Page 62 of Haystacks and Hoaxes

She twisted away from him. “Who says he’s myboyfriend?” She didn’t recall announcing to anyone yet that they were officially dating.

“He did.” Decker snickered. “Quit being so cranky. It’s your birthday.”

“Then I can cry if I want to,” she teased, quoting the lyrics to an oldie but goodie pop song.

“Well, it’s my job to dry your tears.” He yanked a paper towel off the holder and stalked menacingly in her direction.

“Says who?” She ducked away from him, nearly spilling her coffee. It wasn’t fair that he looked so put together this morning in his gray slacks and white dress shirt, while she was still fighting yawns and mental sluggishness.

“I’m your big brother,” he reminded loftily. “It’s my job to look after you.” He grinned over his shoulder at his wife, who’d just entered the room.

“Chanel!” Mila sent a look of protest at her sister-in-law. “A little help? Since you married the guy, he’s supposed to be your problem.”

“At the moment, he’s your problem. I wouldn’t think of horning in on a family moment.” Chanel moved to the fridge, looking like a million bucks in an ivory maternity sweater dress that hugged her slender curves and growing baby bump. She poured herself a glass of milk and sipped on it.

“That’s it. I’m moving out. Today, in fact.” Mila muffled a laugh as she watched Chanel make the mundane task of sipping on milk look elegant.

Her sister-in-law didn’t look the least bit ruffled. “Not before we celebrate your birthday, chickadee. We have plans,” she announced dramatically.

Mila’s lips parted in surprise. No wonder her brother had been trading cagey looks with his wife. Probably for thesame reason they looked dressed to go on a hot date.Whereas I am not.She glanced in dismay down at the sweatpants she’d slept in and the fuzzy slippers she’d jammed her feet into before padding down the hallway. “Whatever you have in mind, can I go dressed like this?”

Chanel looked so alarmed that Mila burst out laughing. “I’m kidding,” she chortled. Her sister-in-law’s expression had been priceless, though.

“Go. Change.” Decker steered her toward the massive arched doorway leading to the massively long hallway. “Your man will be present at the party, if that helps you decide what to wear.”

“Party?” Consternation clogged her throat. “Sorry, champ. I’m not in the mood for a party.”

“Then get in the mood.” He gave her a playful nudge to get her moving.

“And to think I spent the last few years wishing my older brother would pay more attention to me!” Mila stomped toward the guest room with her coffee still in hand.

“Love you,” Decker called after her.

She shut the guest room door without answering him and took her time drinking her coffee before getting dressed. On the upside, her brother’s shenanigans had put her in a slightly better mood, not that she was about to admit it to him. He had a big enough head already.

There was no way she could compete with Chanel Supermodel Kingston with her outfit, so Mila didn’t even try. She tossed on a pair of stone-washed jeans with a bit of grunge at the knees — boot cut style so she could pair them with her most delicious pair of cowgirl boots. The caramel colored beauties with ivory floral stitching had been a gift from hermother last Christmas.

Mila pulled on a warm, cable knit turtleneck sweater in the same shade of ivory. Then she added chunky gold jewelry and the tiniest touch of makeup, only enough to take the shine off her nose.

Stepping into her mom’s gift, however, had made her slide back into her funk from earlier. As she finished applying makeup, she sent her parent a silent plea.Please, please, please answer my messages, Mom!Mila was worried sick about her. Knowing her mother’s penchant for drama, she was probably still coming out of shock. But still.I just need to know you’re okay, Mom.After discovering all her mother had been through since becoming a widow, Mila had been drowning in guilt. She hadn’t made her mother’s life easy, not even a little. She’d been a moody, rebellious kid who’d turned into a moody, rebellious teen — purposely misbehaving because of the attention that came along with it.But I promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll give me the chance.

In a burst of desperation, she slid to her knees beside the guest room bed, tipping her head against the soft white comforter. “Please, God,” she murmured. “I need You today. My family needs You. We’re a very needy bunch.” They didn’t deserve special treatment, but God already knew that. She’d been reading her Bible more lately and had been touched by all the references in it to her Heavenly Father.

“I especially need a father,” she added in a choked voice. Bless her stepfather’s heart! She’d never given him much of a chance, either. She’d been too busy resenting him for not being her real father, which was completely unfair. The way he’d stood by her mother during her darkest hours had cast him in a whole new light. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated Chet Kingston. Help me be the daughter he deserves.” The guy had been under noobligation to marry her mother or adopt her sullen daughter, but he had. He was kinder and more generous than she’d ever given him credit for. It was time to start acting like it.

A gentle knock on the door made her curl to her feet. “Coming!”

To her surprise, little Gwen awaited her on the other side.

“Sweetie!” Mila stooped down to hug the child. “What are you doing here?” She looked adorable in her favorite pair of red velvet overalls that she wore every chance she got, even though Christmas was over.

“Party.” Gwen lifted her chubby arms in the air. “Mila Rabbit.”

“Oh, you sweet, sweet thing!” Mila lifted the child and was rewarded with a squeeze hug accompanied by lots of grunting from the effort it took. She danced into the great room with Gwen in her arms. “We’re ready to go,” she sang out, prepared to go to battle with anyone who told her she couldn’t bring Gwen along.

For an answer, Chanel bustled into the room with a fluffy quilted red and white velvet coat that was a perfect match to Gwen’s outfit. Knowing her, she’d probably designed it herself. “Arms out, baby girl.” She made a game of bundling Gwen into her coat, which Gwen somehow accomplished without hopping out of her aunt’s embrace.

“Never mind about moving out,” she muttered as she helped buckle Gwen into her car seat. “I’ll miss this kid way too much, unless…” She stepped back, wagging a finger at her brother and sister-in-law. “Unless you agree to visit me as often as I visit you, so I don’t lapse into a severe case of niece withdrawal symptoms.”

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