When We Found Home. Susan Mallery
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to see your dad?”
“I am. How’s it going with you?”
“Busy!” She nodded at the infant and toddler, both in their car seats behind her. “We have a doctor’s appointment and I’m running late. I can’t remember the last time I showered and the in-laws are coming over tonight. It’s card night.” She sighed. “We have to get together and catch up. Say yes like you mean it.”
“I do mean it,” Delaney told her.
Chelsea rolled up her window and waved as she headed down the street.
Delaney watched her go. A few years ago, she had assumed she would be living a life just like Chelsea’s herself. Married with a couple of kids, in-laws dropping by on a regular basis. Tim had talked about it all the time—what they would name their kids, what kind of tent camper they would buy and where they would drive to on their vacations. His dreams had all been the kind most people could relate to—getting married, having a family, putting his kids through college and living in the same house until he was too old to manage the stairs.
She’d wanted those dreams, too. Had told herself she would be happy when it finally happened. Only she’d been the one to take a different path from everyone she knew. First getting her college degree in finance, then taking a job at Boeing. She’d moved up in the company, had moved away from the neighborhood—only a few miles, but still a world away. She’d been the one to buy a condo on her own, and the BMW. Her dreams had been bigger than Tim’s. Now, nearly eighteen months after his death, she wondered if he’d realized that and, if he had, what he’d thought about it.
She circled her car and opened the passenger door. The tiny kitten was asleep in the cardboard carrier the veterinary office had given her. The vet had guessed the kitten to be nine or ten weeks old. Weaned, but still a baby. Underweight, female and uninjured. His guess had been that she’d been abandoned. The staff had fed her after they’d checked her out and now she was sleeping off her feast.
“You’re going to need a name,” Delaney murmured. Picking one out would be fun for Keira, and a distraction from the pain of her recovery. She might not have any serious injuries, but she was going to be sore for a while.
Delaney carried the sleeping kitten up to the front door. The house had been built back in the 1940s, but modernized over the years. A ramp led from the driveway to the front door. Delaney took the stairs, then glanced at the specially modified van parked by the ramp. Her dad had come a long way, she thought, grateful for his recovery. She knocked once, then let herself in the unlocked front door.
“Hi,” she called. “It’s me.”
“Hi, pumpkin,” her dad called. “We’re back here.”
Back here meant the kitchen, Delaney thought with a smile. Because that was where everyone always was in this house.
The kitchen was large and open, more great room than just a space to prepare meals. There was a big table in the middle, a wood-burning fireplace in the corner and a couple of worn sofas by the back windows. On the opposite wall were the cabinets, the stove and a large island.
When her father saw her, he grinned and wheeled toward her. “How’s my best girl?”
Phil Holbrook was a broad-shouldered, well-muscled man in his midfifties. Despite his inability to walk, he kept himself in shape and never let on that he found his wheelchair a problem.
“I’m good, Dad.” She leaned over to hug him, then handed him the carrier. “This is the unexpected little friend I mentioned.”
Beryl, a petite blonde two years older than Phil, came out from around the island and took the carrier. “Oh, she’s precious. How old is she?”
“The vet thinks nine or ten weeks. She was probably abandoned.”
Beryl looked at Phil. “Oh, honey, a homeless kitten.”
“No,” Phil said mildly. “We’re not getting a kitten. This one already has a home.”
“But what about another homeless kitten?”
“We’re going to start traveling. We’ve got that European cruise booked for September. What would we do with a cat?”
Beryl looked pleadingly at Delaney. “Maybe you could keep her.”
“Oh, I’m so staying out of this,” she said with a laugh.
“Travel,” Phil said mildly. “Lots and lots of travel.”
Beryl mock pouted. “I hate it when you’re sensible.”
“No, you don’t.”
She lightly kissed him. “No, I don’t.”
Delaney set the carrier on the floor by the sofa. Beryl and her family had always been a fixture in Delaney’s life from the time she was born. When Phil had been unexpectedly widowed and left with a newborn to care for, the neighborhood women had stepped in to help. Each mom had taken a shift, allowing Phil to go back to work. Delaney had grown up with Beryl’s three kids, including Tim who was four years older than she was. The families had been close with Tim following in Phil’s footsteps, career wise. After getting his associates degree, he’d joined the Seattle Police Department.
Ten years ago, Beryl had lost her husband to cancer and the neighborhood had rallied again. When Phil had been shot in the same ambush that killed Tim, Beryl and Delaney had gotten each other through the initial shock and grief.
Delaney wasn’t sure when friendship had turned to more between the neighbors, but she was glad her father had finally found someone to love. He was recovered enough to have a relatively normal life and now he had someone to share it with. A few months before, he’d proposed to Beryl and she’d accepted. They were getting married in a quiet ceremony in late August, then taking their first cruise together in September.
Beryl straightened. “Go ahead,” she told Delaney. “Your kitten will be fine until you’re back. And while you’re gone, I’ll put together some food for you to take home. You’re not eating enough.”
“I’m eating plenty.”
Beryl didn’t look convinced. “You’re thinner every time I see you.”
“I wish that were true,” Delaney said with a laugh. “All right, I’m off to the pet store. I won’t be long.”
She’d told Malcolm she would keep Keira’s kitten until Keira was home and able to take care of it herself. She’d half expected him to protest, saying his sister couldn’t keep the kitten, but he’d only thanked her for helping.
As she slid behind the wheel of her car and started the engine, she admitted she was having trouble reconciling the confident suit-wearing guy she knew from the office to the shell-shocked brother she’d met at the hospital. She still couldn’t believe Malcolm was Keira’s asshole brother.
From what Keira had told her, she’d been living in foster care in Los Angeles when she’d been found by her long-lost family. Malcolm had flown down to LA to bring her to Seattle. Once settled in her fancy digs, she’d been enrolled at the very upscale Puget Sound Preparatory Academy and pretty much left on her own.
Delaney hadn’t known how much of Keira’s story was true and how much of it wasn’t. Now she was even less sure. Not that she thought anyone was starving the preteen or beating her, but benign neglect wasn’t exactly nurturing.
Malcolm seemed like a decent guy so what was going on at home? Was it possible he simply didn’t know what to do with a twelve-year-old? And what about the grandfather? Where was he in all this?
Delaney sighed. Maybe she was exaggerating the problem. Maybe there wasn’t a problem at all. She would have to scope things out when she returned the kitten and then... Well, she didn’t know what, but she’d been raised to take care of anyone in need and if she thought Keira needed her, she would be there in a heartbeat.