Page 34 of Christmas with Holly

“Tonight?” Shelby asked, frowning.“Now?”

Mark nodded and described the situation. Allison and Bill looked sympathetic, while Shelby appeared increasingly distressed. This sign of concern for Holly gave Mark a new sense of partnership with her, a feeling of connection. He wondered if she would consider going back with him. He wouldn’t ask her to, but if she offered…

Standing from the table, Shelby touched his arm gently. “Let’s talk about this in private.” She sent a somewhat weary smile in Allison’s direction. “Back in a sec.”

“Absolutely.” And the two women exchanged one of those unfathomable female something-is-brewing glances.

Shelby went with Mark to the entrance of the restaurant, to a corner where they could talk undisturbed.

“Shelby—” Mark began.

“Listen,” she interrupted gently, “I’m not trying to frame this as a choose-between-Holly-or-me thing…but she’ll be fine without you. And I won’t be. I want you to come to this party tonight, and meet my family. There’s nothing you can do for Holly that Sam’s not already doing.”

By the time she had finished speaking, Mark’s feelings of warmth and connection had vanished. No matter what she said, she was making him choose between her and Holly. “I know that,” he said. “But I want to be the one doing it for her. And there’s no way I could have a good time tonight, knowing my kid is sick. I’d be in a corner with my cell phone the whole time.”

“But Holly’s not yours. Not your own kid.”

Mark looked at Shelby as if he’d never seen her before. What was the implication? That his concern for Holly wasn’t valid because she wasn’t his biological child? That he wasn’t entitled to worry about her to this extent?

It was often in small moments that significant things were revealed. And with that spare handful of words, his and Shelby’s relationship had undergone a sea change. Was he being unreasonable? Was he overreacting? He didn’t give a damn. His first concern was for Holly.

When Shelby saw Mark’s expression, she lifted her impatient gaze heavenward. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

His brain methodically rearranged the words into a more precise truth. She had meant it, despite how it had sounded.

“It’s okay.” Mark paused, feeling the supportive trusses of their relationship being dismantled in this conversation, every word a hatchet-strike. “But sheismine, Shelby. My responsibility.”

“Sam’s, too.”

He shook his head. “Sam is helping. But I’m her only legal guardian.”

“So she needstwogrown men hovering over her?”

Mark replied carefully. “I need to be there.”

Shelby nodded and let out a slow breath. “Okay. Obviously there’s no point debating this right now. Should I take you to the airport?”

“I called for a cab.”

“I’d offer to come with you, but I want to be there for my cousin tonight.”

“I understand.” Mark put a hand on her back in a gesture of appeasement. Her spine was stiff and straight, as if it had been carved in ice. “I’m going to take care of dinner. I’ll leave my credit card number with the hostess.”

“Thank you. Bill and Allison will appreciate that.” Shelby looked glum. “Call me later and let me know how Holly is. Although I already know she’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” He leaned down to kiss her, and she turned her face so that his lips met her cheek.

Nine

The cab ride to the airport seemed to take forever. The flight back to Friday Harbor was so slow that Mark was certain he could have gotten there faster by kayak. By the time he’d driven back home to Rainshadow Vineyard, it was almost ten o’clock. An unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway, a white Sebring.

Mark entered the house through the back, walking straight into the kitchen. Sam was there, pouring himself a glass of wine. He looked haggard. The front of his T-shirt was water-splotched, and his hair was standing up in places. An array of medicine bottles and empty glasses had accumulated on the counter, as well as a plastic jug of rehydrating drink.

Sam looked at him with a flicker of surprise and shook his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you,” he said in resignation. “My God, Shelby must be pissed.”

Setting down his bag, Mark stripped off his jacket. “I don’t give a damn. How is Holly? Whose car is in the driveway?”

“It’s Maggie’s. And Holly’s better. She hasn’t thrown up for an hour and a half.”

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