This set them off again. Lori tried to figure out the humor of forgetting to turn on the oven. Apparently it was one of those moments that had to be experienced in real time.

“The thing is,” her mother told her. “You would never have forgotten. That’s what I was telling Madeline when you came home. You were always the solid one, Lori. Not flaky like your sister and me.”

Lori held back an automatic protest that her sister wasn’t flaky.

Her mother’s laughter faded. “Oh, Lori, you were such a good little girl. I could depend on you to take care of things. In my sober moments, I used to think that wasn’t a good thing. Not that I blamed you. You’re the only reason we all survived. But with you around, I didn’t have to worry about what was happening at home. It was all taken care of.”

Lori didn’t know what to say to that. Her recollections were similar but she’d never thought of them in the context of holding the family together. She’d done what needed to be done because her mother was always drunk and Madeline was busy with her life.

“I remember Lori nagging me to eat,” Madeline said. “Or at least eat better than I was.”

“She did the same with me,” Evie added. “I can see that sweet little girl, standing in the kitchen, holding a big pot and yelling that we were all going to sit down and eat together, even if she had to physically make us.”

Lori felt a rush of memories, most of them bad. She pushed them away, as she always did, but her mother kept talking about how much Lori had done.

“I would have been lost without you,” Evie said. “Have I told you that? It’s true.”

Lori felt incredibly uncomfortable. She and her mother didn’t get along. Bonding wasn’t allowed. “I didn’t do that much.”

“Of course you did. Part of recovery is acknowledging what the alcohol did to your family. In your case, Lori, my drinking forced you to grow up too soon. You became the mom. I never wanted that.”

Lori squirmed in her seat. “It’s fine,” she murmured, wishing they could talk about something else. She didn’t want to hear any of this.

“It’s not fine,” her mother said. “I wish things had been different.” She frowned. “Where are your glasses? Did you get contacts?”

“She had Lasik surgery,” Madeline said, sounding smug. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She’ll never be as pretty as you,” her mother said.

The comment made Madeline grimace, but helped put Lori’s world back in perspective.

“Eye surgery?” Evie asked. “I didn’t think you’d want to do something like that.”

“I can’t wear contacts,” Lori said. “I tried and there’s just no way. Now I don’t have to worry about glasses.”

“Is there a man?” her mother asked bluntly. “Women always do stupid things for a man.”

Lori distinctly remembered wishing for a change in topic. Now that it was here, she was having second thoughts.

“I didn’t do it for a man,” Lori said firmly. “I like being able to see without glasses.”

Her mother looked unimpressed.

Lori hated sounding like she’d changed herself for Reid. He’d been the catalyst but not the reason. “Okay, fine. I am kind of seeing someone. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Madeline said. “It’s fabulous and so is he. Remember Reid Buchanan? He’s that hunky baseball player who blew out his shoulder last year and had to retire.”

“I don’t remember that,” Evie told her. “But wasn’t there a mean article about him in the paper recently? Something about him not being…” Her mother’s voice trailed off.

Lori didn’t know what to say. This was a true definition of damned if you do and damned if you don’t. “It wasn’t true,” she said at last. “Not any of it.”

“I see.”

Evie and Madeline exchanged a look. Lori didn’t want to know what either of them were thinking.

“He’s great,” Madeline said. “He adores Lori.”

“I’m glad.” Evie smiled. “It’s time you found someone.”

Lori supposed life was never all one way and neither were people. Evie was trying. Failing, but trying.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LORI SCOOPED some orange chicken onto her plate. “This is really good,” she said. “Where’s the takeout place?”

“A couple of streets down. I’ll show you. It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but the food is great.”

She and Reid sat on the floor, backs against the sofa in his living room in Gloria’s house. The coffee table was covered with open takeout containers. Reid had provided dinner and a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. While Lori was confident they would move into the bedroom later, it felt good just to hang out. More normal, maybe.

“It was strange last night with my mother,” she said, returning to their previous topic of conversation. “I know she’s trying to reach out and I’m beginning to believe she feels badly for what happened all those years she was drinking. I know forgiving her is the right thing to do.”

Reid looked at her. “You will when you’re ready.”

“Maybe.”

Sometimes she wanted to forgive all and get close to her mother and sometimes she was so angry, she wanted the other woman punished forever.

She still remembered being ten years old and breaking her mother’s favorite glass. It had been tall and slender, perfect for mixing drinks without too much ice getting in the way of the alcohol.

Lori had been washing the dishes and the glass had slipped, breaking into dozens of sharp shards. Her mother had been drunk and angry. When Lori had confessed, Evie had started screaming.

“You’re useless,” she’d yelled. “I’m sorry you were born. You’re nothing but an accident. An accident I didn’t want. I have one perfect daughter—why would I want a horrible girl like you?”

The pain still cut as easily as those pieces of the broken glass.

“I know when Madeline’s gone, she’ll be the only family I have left. That should mean something. I keep thinking if I tried harder, I could get over everything.”

“No one is saying you have to,” he told her.

“I know, but I feel guilty for not accepting her changes and moving on. It’s weird. We were talking about the past. I realized we all remember different situations or the same incident, but in a different way. I guess that’s about perspective. I saw what mattered to me, Madeline saw what mattered to her.”

“Maybe everyone has a piece of the truth,” he said. “You can remember the parts you want to remember and let the rest go.”

“I wish I could.”

He put down his fork. “I want to go public with Madeline’s illness. I want to get the story out there so people think about donating. You said she was a rare blood type. I’ve been doing the research and the odds of finding a donor for her aren’t great. I think we can change that.”

Lori didn’t understand. “Go public as in…”

“Talk to the press. Hold interviews. Talk about the importance of donating. Do you know that here, in the States, you have to opt in to a donation program. That the assumption is you’re not interested in donating unless you say otherwise. But in Europe, it’s the opposite. The assumption is people want to donate. If you aren’t interested, you have to opt out. That makes a whole lot more sense to me. I’ve been talking to some donation centers. They’re willing to help coordinate the process with me. With us.” He paused and glanced at her. “Did I get too ahead of myself? Are you pissed?”

Pissed? She leaned over and kissed him. Her eyes burned and she figured the tears weren’t all that far behind.

“You’d do that for my sister? You did the research and now you’re willing to go out there and face the world?”

She wanted to say he couldn’t. That he would be slaughtered in the press. But Madeline’s life was too important. Still, she had to make sure he understood what he was getting into.

“There’s still that article,” she said. “You know any interviewer is going to bring it up.”

Reid shrugged. “The people who matter know the truth about me.”

“Meaning me and four hundred other women,” she teased.

He didn’t smile back. “Meaning you. I’d want to talk to my family. This is going to mean they could be in the spotlight, too.”

He touched her face. “It’s going to be embarrassing and uncomfortable the first couple of times, but then we’ll talk about Madeline and how organ donations save lives. The message will get out. What do I care if a few people make cracks at my expense?”

He was making sense in the best way possible. “I can’t believe you’ve already done research.”

“I’m an impressive kind of guy.”

“Yes, you are.” She leaned in and kissed him again. “More than impressive. You’re spectacular. If you ever need a letter of recommendation, let me know.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap. “I just might take you up on that,” he said, before he kissed her back.

REID PARKED in his usual spot, then walked in through the front of the Downtown Sports Bar. A couple of the guys called out to him, he heard a few cracks and kept on moving. Cal, Walker and Dani were already there, in their usual table in the corner. He greeted them.

“I know I’m not late,” he said as he made a fist and banged knuckles with both Cal and Walker, then hugged his baby sister.

“We got here early so we could talk about you,” Dani said with a grin.

“Great. What did you decide?”

“That you might just turn out okay.” She sat back down and pushed his beer toward him. “Actually, we all beat you by about two minutes.”

He tugged on a lock of his sister’s short hair. “I haven’t seen you in a while. What’s going on?”

“Still working for Penny while I look for something else. She’s hoping I’ll change my mind about leaving, but I can’t. I need to get going on something of my own.”

“Where have you been looking?”

“All over the city. There are some interesting places out there.”

“Like where?” Cal asked.

“Valerie’s Garden. Fabulous restaurant, great staff, incredibly strange vegan food. Not for me.”

Reid had never much been into tofu, either.

“You doing okay otherwise?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m doing fine. Moving on with my life.” She touched his arm. “Don’t worry.”

“We all worry,” Walker said. “It’s part of the job description.”

“Well, I do need help with one thing,” Dani said, looking at Reid. “I want to find out about my father. I have nothing to go on, which means I need to talk to Gloria. What are the odds that her transformation is genuine and that she’ll help me?”

Reid looked at Cal and Walker. They both shrugged.

“She’s changed,” Reid said. “She’s trying.”

“For you guys,” Dani grumbled. “You’re family.”

“She was great to Penny and the baby,” Cal offered. “It’s not like she loved the idea of Penny being pregnant with another guy’s kid but she was friendly. Almost charming. Honestly? It kind of freaked me out.”

“She was good to Elissa and even asked her to bring Zoe on her next visit,” Walker said.

“I’m tempted to talk to her,” Dani said. “But not quite tempted enough.”

“Want me to say something?” Reid asked.

Dani shook her head. “No. This is my dragon. I have to make peace with it or slay it myself. Metaphorically, of course. I’m not advocating killing Gloria…yet.”

“No one thinks you are,” Cal told her. “We’re here for you. You know that, right?”

“I do.” She smiled. “So that’s me. What’s up with you, Reid? You’ve been lying low these past couple of months.”

“With good reason. I do have a couple of things I need to talk to you about.” He glanced at Walker. “You got my letter of resignation, right?”

Dani glanced between the two of them, then glared at Reid. “You’re quitting your job here? Just like that? Did you know?” she asked Cal.

Cal shifted in his seat. “He might have mentioned it.”

Dani grabbed a chip from the pile of nachos and chomped down furiously. She swallowed. “Dammit, I’m always the last to know. I swear, the next time I get a great secret, I’m not telling any of you.”

“It wasn’t a secret,” Reid said. “I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while. I’m not good at running this place, probably because I’m not interested. There are some good managers here.”

“I know,” Walker said calmly. “Don’t sweat it. They’ll pick up the slack until I get someone else in here.” He looked at Dani. “Are you interested?”

“In working here? No, thanks.”

“You’d be in charge. I’d like to keep it in the family. And don’t say you’re not family because you are.”

Dani glanced around. “Not my thing. I want a real restaurant. Not liquor and finger food. But I appreciate the offer.”