Meant-to-Be Mum. Karen Templeton

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      The family room, however, she thought, popping the can’s tab as she peeked in the room, still bore the scars of having been a family room in every sense of the word. Probably one reason why the house was still on the market. The kitchen showed well, sure, but the rest of the house...not so much. Especially to buyers with no desire to take on a fixer-upper, even if most of the work was cosmetic. True, Pop had impulsively donated Mom’s vast, and eclectic, book collection to the library some months before. But since he hadn’t moved any further in that direction, Sabrina could only assume—since they’d never discussed it—that the action had paralyzed him instead of propelling him forward.

      She tilted the can to her lips, remembering the beehive of activity this house had once been, of noisy meals and fights for the bathroom and never-ending chore lists, usually overseen by the man currently grilling their dinner. Now only an eerie stillness remained, a thousand memories whispering like ghosts every time Sabrina returned. For all she’d chomped at the bit to escape more than a decade before, seeing it this way—like a dying person halfway between this world and the next—made her very sad.

      Sadder, anyway.

      The can clutched to her chest, she finally went outside, smiling for her father.

      “Smells great.”

      Standing at the grill, Pop glanced over, then said, “All unpacked?”

      “Mmm-hmm.”

      “Good,” he said, not looking at her, and her eyes filled. Because all she wanted, she realized, was a hug.

      Dumb.

      She’d wondered sometimes, how, with their polar opposite natures, her parents had ever gotten together. Let alone enjoyed the kind of marriage that textbooks could point to and say, This. Mom had been the one who’d wrap Sabrina in her warm embrace, doing all the talking for both of them during those first few weeks after she and Matt had arrived and Sabrina wouldn’t, or couldn’t, find her words. The Colonel, however, hadn’t seemed to know what to do with the frightened little girl clinging to her grief like a tattered teddy bear. Oh, Sabrina eventually figured out that, despite his more reserved nature, Pop cared fiercely about every child in his care, that fostering had been his idea. There was no better man on earth. But sometimes Sabrina felt as if their initial interaction—or lack of one—had set the tone for their entire relationship.

      That even after all these years, she still had no idea how to close the gap between them.

      “Got some vegetable kebabs from the store to go with the burgers,” he said. “That okay?”

      “Sure.”

      Fragrant smoke billowed out when he lifted the lid to the grill, frowning again in her direction. “Sorry to spring Cole and the kids on you like that. If I’d known you were coming—”

      “No, it’s okay. I should’ve warned you.”

      Pop had known, of course, that things had fallen apart between her and Cole their senior year. Just not why. God willing, he never would.

      “Always did like that boy,” Pop now said, flipping the burgers. “Missed him hanging around.”

      “So you ran into him and invited him over.”

      Shooting her another curious look, Pop closed the lid to the grill again. “For more than five years that kid was over here more than he was at his own house. Seemed like it, anyway. Invitation was out of my mouth before I even knew it was there.” He crossed his arms. “Couple of smart kids he’s got there.”

      “So Cole said,” Sabrina said, walking to the edge of the deck jutting out into the large yard off the porch. Shards of dying, early evening sun sliced through the pine trees on one side of the yard, gilding the new grass and her mother’s prodigiously blooming rosebushes. A robin darted, stopped, darted again across the lawn, ignoring the chattering of an unseen squirrel nearby. Images flashed, of badminton and croquet games, of running through the sprinklers. That old Slip ’N Slide. Fireflies. Of lying in the grass on summer evenings, her and Cole and Kelly...

      “You gonna go see the baby tonight?”

      Releasing a breath, Sabrina turned, bracing her hands on the deck railing behind her and refusing to feel sorry for herself, that Matt was married and her younger brother, Tyler, was going to be in a week, that even her oldest brother, Ethan, had found love again after losing his wife three years ago. That things seemed to be working out fine for everyone but her.

      Not that she hadn’t tried—

      Okay, maybe that not-feeling-sorry-for-herself thing wasn’t working as well as she’d hoped.

      “Tomorrow, maybe. It’ll be too late after dinner. They’ll be wanting to get the little one down, I imagine.”

      Her father shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “So you gonna tell me what happened, or are we playing twenty questions?”

      Sabrina smirked. “Wondered when you were going to ask.”

      “Didn’t want to push.”

      She held up her left hand, naked except for the imprint of the ring that had been there only yesterday. “Not that you haven’t already figured it out.”

      “It was his boy, wasn’t it?”

      Her vision blurred, Sabrina nodded. Chad didn’t have his six-year-old son very often—his ex had moved to the West Coast for work, and Robbie went with her—meaning the child wanted Daddy to himself when he did see him. Not that Sabrina blamed him.

      “I couldn’t stand seeing the kid so miserable, Pop.”

      “So you broke it off.”

      “It was a mutual decision.”

      “And the child was six. He would have gotten over it.”

      From anyone else, her father’s words might have sounded callous. Uncaring. Except Sabrina knew the remark came from a place of deep love for kids. All kids. Which only made it harder to hear.

      “You think I gave up.”

      She nearly choked when her father walked over, wrapped her in his arms. For maybe two seconds, but still. Holy crap.

      He let her go to return to the grill, scraping burgers on to a nearby plate before giving her a hard stare. “I wasn’t there, I have no idea what went on between you. But I know you,” he said, jabbing the spatula in her direction. “I know how good you are with kids. How crazy they are about you. So whatever was going on...” He lowered the lid again. “Not your fault.”

      “Yeah, well, you also never liked Chad.”

      “Only because I never felt he was worthy of you.”

      “What? You never said that—”

      “Didn’t have to, did I?”

      “Chad’s a good man, Pop. Jeez, give me some credit.” He slanted a look in her direction, and her СКАЧАТЬ