you have to give me time to really paint, because the room has to be done this afternoon. We need to get it ready for—” she lowered her voice “—for your daddy.”
So much for relaxation.
She patted some more, focusing on the April-fresh air coming through the window she’d cracked open, trying to soothe the anxiety that gripped her every time she thought of Boone coming home. Not that he had ever lived here, in either this house or Comeback Cove. Not that he even thought of Canada as home anymore.
But in two days, he would be here, whether she was ready or not. And painting was the least of her worries.
Allie bounded up the stairs, her footsteps eliciting the usual symphony of creaks and protests from the aging stairs. Jamie’s loud burp was just one more note in the song. By the time Allie sailed in, Kate had Jamie settled on the other side, leaving her free to cross her legs, sit back and gratefully accept her sister’s offerings.
“Ooh. That’s not a cheese stick.” Kate drank deeply before tucking the bottle of water at her side and diving into the plate of cheddar, crackers and apple slices with gusto.
“Yeah, well, I figure I’m allowed to pamper you once in a while. Though seriously, when are you going to learn to set an alarm on your phone to remind you to drink?” Allie mock scowled before grinning and gesturing toward the wall in front of her, where hints of faded wallpaper still peeked out from the first coat of robin’s-egg-blue paint. “I still don’t know if it was a good idea to paint right over this.”
“In a perfect world, I would have scraped off all seven layers and made a fresh start. But there’s a limit. Besides, this place is so old that the wallpaper might be the only thing holding it up.”
“You love it and you know it.”
“Well, yeah. But love doesn’t always make you blind to faults.” She grinned. “If it did, Mom would have run out of things to say to us years ago.”
“True that.” Allie grabbed her roller and attacked the wall once more. “So, Katydid, not that I don’t adore spending a gorgeous Sunday helping you paint instead of hanging out with Cash the Wonder Boyfriend, but how about you tell me the real reason this needed to be done so quickly? I mean, it was one thing when we had to get the first floor ready in record time. Things had to be perfect for Prince Jameson.” She curtsied to the baby. “But you said you weren’t going to put this place up for sale until he was a year old or so, and honestly, there’s lots of other work that’s more pressing than making this room look decent. So, what’s the rush?”
Kate let her head fall back against the chair. She had known this talk was coming. She simply hadn’t thought of the right way to handle it yet.
“Boone is coming.”
Oops. She should have waited until Allie had finished reloading her roller. That might have helped prevent the blue streak now decorating the floor.
“Son of a...” Allie grabbed a rag from the bucket of water and swiped at the wayward paint. “He’s finally making an appearance?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“And why not? I mean, I know you guys only got married so Nana wouldn’t freak when she found out you were pregnant, but still. He’s been gone a year.”
“Ten months.”
Allie waved the words away. “Details. The point is, he has a beautiful baby who is five months old, growing every minute practically, and Boone hasn’t bothered to even meet him? Excuse me if I’m not feeling incredibly gracious.” She frowned at the half-painted wall. “Or if I suddenly don’t feel like busting my butt on this.”
“Allie, come on. You know he wanted to come back sooner, but it’s not like you can easily do a long weekend run from Peru to here. And with his partners gone, it’s been up to him to keep Project Sonqo running.”
“I know. I know.” Water splashed as Allie tossed the rag back into the bucket. “Look, I have lots of respect for what he’s doing there. The way he and the MacPhersons started Project Sonqo, the way they’re connecting the crafters with new markets and teaching the women how to see themselves as small businesses... It’s all good. Great, really. And I know that Boone had to step up when—what’s his name—Mr. MacPherson—”
“Craig. Craig and Jill.” Jamie was falling asleep, his swallows slacking off and his eyes closing in the classic milk-drunk pose. Kate gave him a gentle jiggle. She had no problem with him nursing himself to sleep, but she wanted to be sure he’d had enough. She didn’t want to lay him in his crib and get herself put back together only to have him wake up in fifteen minutes because he decided he needed more.
“Right. I understand that Boone had to take over when Craig got sick. I mean, look, cancer is bad enough when you’re dealing with it here. I can’t imagine what it must be like in that part of Peru, living so far from hospitals and everything. So, total sympathy, okay? But...” Allie scowled. “There must have been somebody Boone could have brought in to run things. Some way he could have been here when his own son was born.”
Kate held her tongue. Allie was well aware that Jamie’s arrival a couple of weeks ahead of schedule had complicated everyone’s plans. If he had been born on time, or even late—as everyone had assured her was usually the case with first babies—Boone could well have been on hand for the big event.
At least, that was what she told herself.
“Allie, I know you’re not happy about the way things turned out. But—”
“Don’t tell me to let it go. Because you know that if the positions were reversed, you wouldn’t.”
There was some truth to that. Anyone who hurt Allie had to be prepared to face the wrath of Kate, and if that happened, they ended up counting their blessings, because it meant that Kate got to them before her mother did.
But this was different. Boone had been nothing but honest from the start. Ten minutes after meeting him at a fan convention in Ottawa, she had known that he was going to be around for only a few months, that even though he was still Canadian he considered Peru his home, that there was no chance of anything long-term or forever between them. He wasn’t a family man. Kate, on the rebound from a bad breakup, had been fine with that. She’d definitely wanted permanence and a family someday, but at that moment, short-term and fun and intense had been just what she’d needed.
That was, until a perfect storm of chances and failures had led to the perfect baby sleeping in her arms.
“The point is,” she said, easing Jamie upright, “Craig and Jill are running things again, and as soon as they were caught up, Boone booked a flight. He’ll be here Tuesday. Call me sentimental, but I didn’t want to put him in a room that had faded flamingo wallpaper on one wall and giant chrysanthemums on the others. So we’re painting.”
Allie’s grunt was all the proof Kate needed that her sister didn’t approve of any of this. No surprise there. What was surprising was that Allie hadn’t yet mentioned that they were prepping a second-story room for Boone, when Kate and Jamie were already established in Nana’s old room on the first floor.
Any minute now...
“Hang on.”
Kate lifted her chin. She could wait for Allie to say it, or she could get the hardest part out of the way.
“That’s right,” she said as evenly as possible. “He’s sleeping up here.”
“You’re putting your husband—the man you haven’t seen in ten months, the guy who almost made you commit an act of public indecency on the beach that day—in a separate room?”
“That’s right. And no, before you ask, I’m not moving my stuff up here.” Kate rose from the chair with all the grace of a lame giraffe. “He’s not coming just to meet Jamie, Allie. Or to help me get the place fixed up so I can sell it. He’s also coming home so we can get a divorce.”