Celebration's Family. Nancy Thompson Robards
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older than Kate was.
Kate’s baby would’ve been five later this year if it had survived. It was a memory she’d tried to suppress since the topic of death and kids had come up this morning.
Actually she hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind, despite the way she’d tried to ignore the dull ache in her heart. All the more reason to find a viable way out of this plan for the good doctor. One that didn’t involve dates or leaving his kids at home.
She clicked on her email account, glanced at the full in-box, but she couldn’t bring herself to open any of the correspondence. She swiveled her chair toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, stared out at the Dallas skyline and let her mind wander far away from the memory of the child she’d lost.
Bachelor auctions. Think. Fund-raisers. Think harder.
Cullen Dunlevy hadn’t been thrilled with Liam’s steadfast refusal. So completely letting him off the hook seemed out of the question. And Dunlevy hadn’t seemed pacified by Liam’s offer to simply write a check. He wanted Liam to take an active role like his colleagues. She wasn’t sure why Dr. Dunlevy was so adamant about Liam participating, but she’d definitely observed some underlying tension.
It didn’t really matter.
Well, it shouldn’t anyway.
But it did. To her.
If someone as busy as Liam Thayer didn’t have the time—or the inclination—to auction himself off and go on a date, why was Dunlevy pressuring him? More important, what else could she come up with to make both men happy?
Emceeing wasn’t an option because Maya LeBlanc, international chocolatier and supposed matchmaker, was fulfilling that role. But what to do with Liam?
Too bad he was so adamant about not being in the auction. I would’ve bid on him, she mused as she meditated on the geodesic sphere atop Reunion Tower.
Suddenly she had a thought; something that just might get Dr. Thayer off the hook, if he was willing to be a good sport and play along.
She glanced at the time on the lower right-hand side of her computer. Since it was close to six o’clock, he was probably gone for the day, and she wouldn’t be able to reach him at the hospital. That was all right; it would give her some time to stew on the idea and make sure it was airtight. She’d give him a call tomorrow and see just how willing he was to put his money to good use.
* * *
Liam wholeheartedly supported the pediatric surgical wing—after all, the venture had been a project Joy was passionate about. But why did they have to do this asinine auction that would dishonor Joy’s memory, embarrass his daughters and make a mockery out of the loss and grief he’d suffered?
He wheeled the car into the driveway and glanced at the glowing dashboard clock. It was nearly eight o’clock; darkness was creeping in and spreading over the sky like a stain. He’d stayed at the hospital making his final rounds later than usual. It was times like these that made him grateful he had dependable Rosalinda. Nanny, housekeeper and cook extraordinaire.
His stomach rumbled at the thought of the food Rosie would have waiting, hot and ready for him when he walked in the door. At this hour the girls would’ve already eaten. He hated missing meals with them.
Rosalinda had picked them up at the ballet studio after their dance classes and had fed them. At least he could rest assured that they were in good hands with her. She was a kind, trustworthy woman. Someone with a benevolent heart and no ulterior motives.
As he pressed the garage door opener, his gaze slid to the rearview mirror where he had a perfect view of the yellow two-story house across the street. Kimela Herring’s house. Ever since letting Kimela get too involved with his family right after Joy had died, he was cautious when he left the house. Now he and Kimela mostly avoided each other.
He might have felt bad about having to set Kimela straight, except that she had broken a cardinal rule: she’d tried to use his daughters to get to him. What was worse, it had soon become clear that Kimela’s objective was to send the girls away so that the two of them could make a life together.
The stupid thing was that Liam hadn’t even seen it coming. He’d been so out of it after losing Joy that Kimela Herring had nearly rearranged his household before he’d figured out what she was up to, all in the name of being a good neighbor.
That wasn’t going to happen again. No way in hell. Calee and Amanda were thirteen years old. In five years they would be in college. In the meantime, the best thing he could do was to spend these years focusing on the girls and his patients.
He steered the car into the garage, pressed the button again, and watched the door moan and growl as it closed, eclipsing Kimela Herring’s house.
And his emotions froze up again. The initial anger had evaporated, leaving him feeling zilch. Nada.
Nothing.
Except for an underlying fierce protectiveness that nothing was going to hurt his girls any more than they’d already been hurt. If anyone tried, he would take them out. And he didn’t mean out on a date.
The thought had his mind skittering back to Kate Macintyre, and her offer to talk to him and help work out something. He sensed that she wasn’t the type to strong-arm him into participating. That was decent of her. More than decent, he thought as he let himself out of the car. But she’d get his donation for the surgical wing. Wasn’t the bottom line always what people were after?
She was obviously passionate about her job with her family’s foundation. It was refreshing to meet a woman who was interested in the greater good of the community rather than feathering her own nest like his manipulative neighbor.
As Liam opened the door leading into the kitchen, their mixed breed dog, Frank, barked a greeting and the aroma of something delicious welcomed him home. The smells made his mouth water.
“Hola, Dr. Thayer,” Rosalinda said. “Did you have a good day?”
He petted Frank. “Hi, Rosie. It was a tough day, but everything turned out okay. It’s good to be home. Thanks for staying. I’m sorry I’m so late. Where are the girls?”
The grandmotherly woman took a plate from the cabinet. “They are upstairs showering and then they will do their homework. It’s no problem to stay a little later. I’m happy to help you when I can. Are you hungry?”
“Rosie, you read my mind. Plus the smell of your delicious cooking could make anyone hungry. What’s for dinner?”
By the time Liam had washed his hands, grabbed his e-tablet and sat down at the table, Rosalinda had set a plate of homemade meat loaf, mashed potatoes and steamed green beans in front of him.
“Thanks, Rosie,” he said. “This looks delicious.”
“You’re welcome, Dr. Thayer. I hope you enjoy it. I want you to know I made the cupcakes and left them for Amanda at school. She was very sweet. Hugged me and thanked me when I picked her up from her dancing lesson. You have a darling girl with a good heart. Two sweet girls, because Calee, she is a good girl, too.”
He was relieved that Amanda had thanked Rosie, especially when the generous woman had taken the time to make the treats from scratch rather than stopping by the bakery and buying them ready-made. Since losing her mother, Amanda, who had always been the more reserved of his twins, could sometimes appear sullen and aloof.
Liam had expressed his concerns about this to their grief counselor, but the shrink had assured him Amanda was okay. He’d attributed her moodiness to typical teenage hormones compounded by the loss of her mother. Amanda was doing well in school and engaging in dance. The counselor had told Liam those signs made him believe everything would be fine. If she appeared to worsen or withdraw, Liam should let the counselor know.
Liam had found that the best way for all of them to cope was to stay as busy as possible. He had the hospital; the girls had school and dance. It seemed to be working since they all put in full days and came