“Was his mama there?” Ida asked.
“Yep.”
“Then he’ll mind.”
“I was out of the hospital most of the day,” Edward said. “I didn’t get a chance to meet the new ER chief.” He looked pointedly at Flann. “I heard you did, though.”
Flann turned slicing and buttering her baked potato into a work of art while she considered her answer. Parsing her words at the family table was something new, but Harper was sitting right next to her, and now, by extension, Presley was too. She guessed Harper and Presley would share everything, the way her mother and father did. The family, the concept of their unity that had been with her all her life, seemed blurry now. When Carson had married Bill, they’d welcomed him into the family, but he’d been deployed for a large part of their marriage. Now that he was home, and Harper and Presley were getting married, the core of the family would be changing. Something else she needed to get used to.
“Abigail handled things well. She looks to be well-trained,” Flann finally said.
Edward regarded her silently.
Her mother passed her a bowl of green beans. “Vegetables.”
“You know I don’t really like—” At a sharp look from her mother, Flann let that battle go and took some of the steamed beans.
Ida said, “I think we can assume that anyone Presley hired would be well-qualified. How did the two of you get on?”
Flann gritted her teeth. Of course her mother would get to the point. She always did. “We got along fine. Dealing with her is the same as with any other consultant.”
“Mmm,” Ida said. “Except, in this case, you are the consultant.”
Flann put her knife and fork down. “That’s true.”
“And you’re used to being at the top of the food chain,” Ida remarked casually.
Edward coughed on a laugh. “Those of us in medicine wouldn’t necessarily agree with that, my dear.”
“Nor do I, necessarily,” Ida said with a hint of Southern sweetness. “But I wager that’s not the way Flannery looks at it.”
“There’s not going to be a problem,” Flann said, more for Harper’s benefit than anyone else’s. She was tired of the subject already and wanted to put it to rest. Hoping to divert the attention from her feelings about Abigail, she tried for a change in topics. “Presley tells me she has a teenager.”
“Oh hey,” Margie said, looking up from the eReader, “I met him today. At the library. Blake.”
“Did you invite him to supper?” Ida asked.
“No, but I offered to show him around town. He seems kinda shy. You know, he’s a city kid, so I guess everything here seems weird.”
“All the more reason to invite him and his parents to dinner so they’ll feel welcome.”
“Okay, the next time I see him, I will.” Margie went back to her reading, instantly absorbed.
“There’s just Abby and Blake,” Harper said. “Presley invited them over to her place on Saturday.”
“As she should,” Ida said, “but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t also.”
“I’ll see to it,” Harper said, and Ida nodded.
Edward said, “How are things coming along with the purchase of the White place?”
“Good,” Harper said. “The grandsons have been wanting to sell that place since old Mrs. White died. It’s the right size, got the right amount of land, and Presley already feels comfortable there.”
“So, Carrie’s going to move into your place,” Flann said.
“Seems like a good solution,” Harper said. “The caretaker’s place is move-in ready and I’m leaving most of the furniture. She won’t have much to do and she’ll be close by all of us.”
Flann considered the possibility of spending the night with Carrie at the old caretaker’s house on her parents’ homestead—if they got further than one date. Assuming Carrie called her. She supposed she could put her Jeep in the barn if she didn’t want to advertise her personal comings and goings. She could work it out if and when the time came.
“It’s a pretty big place,” Ida said casually. “What’s it got—four, five bedrooms?”
Harper grinned. “Four besides the master, which we figure will be about right. I guess it’s a good time to let you know we’re thinking about adopting as soon as we can.”
Everyone at the table stopped eating and stared at her.
“Well,” Ida said finally. “That’s welcome news. The sooner the better, because you can never have enough grandchildren.”
Flann looked away before Harper got a look at the shock in her eyes. Harper married with kids. The picture had never occurred to her before, although why not, she couldn’t imagine. Harper was practically a carbon copy of their dad. A family physician who made house calls and always would. Rooted in the community, born to head a family. Of course Harp would want her own family as soon as she could, now she’d found the woman she would make a life with.
“That’s a splendid idea,” Edward said. “How long do they expect the process will take?”
“Cool,” Margie added. “Can you get two at once?”
“Yes, possibly,” Harper said, laughing. “As to how long, I don’t know. The agency says the average time is a year to two, but we could get lucky.” Harper lifted a shoulder. “We’re flexible about things like age or ethnicity, as long as we have a healthy child. The rest will be up to us, then, right?”
“All a child needs,” Ida said, “is love. You let us know if there’s anything we can do, and when the time comes, with the two of you working, I expect to be lending a hand in that child’s care.”
“Thank you, Mama,” Harper said softly.
When dinner was finished, Flann helped Harper and Margie clear the table while her mother and father retired to the back porch with a glass of wine.
As soon as the last dish was dried, Margie said, “I’m going into the village for a while. See you.”
“See you,” Flann said.
“Be careful on your bike,” Harper called as the back door slammed.
Alone in the kitchen, Flann searched for a neutral topic of conversation, something she’d never had to do with her sister before. The silence drew on until it felt awkward.
“So what do you think?” Harper said finally.
“What do you mean?”
“About the kids thing.”
“I think the two of you will be great parents.” Flann meant every word from the bottom of her heart.
“Big change, though, huh?”
Flann grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, flicked off the top on an old bottle opener screwed to the undersurface of the wooden counter, and handed it to Harper. She opened one for herself. “It’s about time. You probably should’ve been married five years ago. You were made for it.”
Harper laughed. “It feels now like that’s the truth, but I didn’t know how much I wanted it until I met Presley.”
“Then I guess that’s a sign you found the right woman.”
“So about the wedding,” Harper said. “We’re going to have it here, of course, and we both want pretty traditional.”
Flannery laughed. “No surprise there either.”
“So you’re going to stand up with me, right?”
Flann’s chest tightened. “Harp, I’ll always stand with you. No matter what.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s a dumb-ass thing to say. You don’t thank me for being your sister.”
“How about for being my friend?”
“Not that either.” Flann scrubbed her face. She hadn’t been doing a very good job of letting Harper know she was happy for her. Too busy feeling sorry for herself. “Is falling in love and getting married turning your brain to mush?”
“Only sometimes.”
“I think Presley is great, and the two of you are going to be super together.” Flann grinned. “As for the kids thing? Bring ’em on. We need new blood for the softball league, and we can get started training them up.”
Laughing, looking younger by a decade, Harper took a long pull on her beer. “So, how do you really feel about Abby?”
Flann tensed. Had Harper read something in her face earlier? Because Abby Remy kept intruding on her thoughts. A lot more than a new professional colleague, even one who’d effortlessly moved in on her territory, should have. She kept remembering the quick sure movements of her hands as she examined the patient, the steady certain tone in her voice, the focus in her eyes. She was a strong woman, attractive just for that. And then there was the elegant curve of her cheekbones and the sensuous lift of her lips, on the rare occasions when she smiled, and the dynamite shape in a tight, curvy-in-all-the right-places body. Thinking about Abby’s body was a really bad idea, since heading down that path would only lead to disaster. She only had to spend five minutes with Abby to know she wasn’t the kind of woman to cut loose for a night and then walk away with a smile and a wave. And those were the only kind of women Flann wanted to think about—fun-loving, field-playing women just like her. “Presley made a good call. Having someone competent in the ER so we don’t have to worry when we can’t get there right away will take a load off us all.”
“I’m glad you’re okay with it,” Harper said. “Presley really likes her. They were pretty tight in college and then—well, you know how it is when you get to med school. You have a tough time keeping any kind of relationship going with anyone most of the time, and they haven’t really seen each other for a while. But the connection is still there.”
“Yeah, I got that when I talked to Presley earlier. She told me a little about when she and Abby were in college—pretty impressive,” Flann said, “that Abby made it through college and med school and residency while raising a kid.”
That was another really good reason to keep her distance. Single women with kids were like mama bears—protective and reluctant to let anyone close. Rightly so, but not for her.
“Dad did it,” Harper said, “but he had Mama. I don’t see how he could’ve done it and set up his practice without her.”
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