If only Claire could be the recipient of as much fortune. Her smile sagged a bit at the thought.
“So, show me the pictures,” she demanded in her best older-sister, authoritative voice. She desperately needed distraction from her own bleak mood.
Sophie winced a bit and exchanged a meaningful glance with Trevor.
“What?” Claire looked from one to the other, having the suspicion she wouldn’t like the answer.
“Mom and Dad are coming over to see the pictures,” Sophie admitted, looking guilty.
“Soph.” Claire grimaced. “When are they coming?” A slightly evil inner voice added,I can leave before they get here.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love her parents, because she did. It was just that she’d been avoiding them both—mostly her mother—as much as possible lately. Her mother was absolutely in love with Garrett, and every time Claire saw her, she was treated to endless sermons on the benefits of marital counseling. It got old.
Not to mention the tiny issue of the paternity of the baby. Okay, so it wasn’t tiny. It was rather large and rather important, especially since Claire’s mother still thought Garrett was the father.
“When are they going to be here, Sophie?” Claire asked again when her sister stalled.
“Well…” Sophie hedged. Two short honks of a car horn burst through the silence. “That would be them pulling into the driveway now.”
“Sophie.” Claire pulled aside the curtain and peered out the window to see her petite, blonde mother and her father getting out of their Volvo. “You know I’m trying to steer clear of them.”
“I know, but I couldn’t not tell them we were back, and when I called, Mom was so excited that I couldn’t tell her she wasn’t allowed to come over,” Sophie said, still sounding as guilty as she looked when Claire turned back to her.
“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I know how she is.”
“Did you tell her about you and Logan?” Sophie asked.
“No,” she admitted.
“Claire.” It was Sophie’s turn to play the role of reproving sibling. “You’re going to have to tell her some time.”
“Actually, she wouldn’t have to, per se,” Trevor offered, casually stroking Sophie’s side as he spoke.
“Don’t encourage her,” Sophie chastised.
“Then don’t meddle,” he rejoined, giving Sophie a pointed look. “She’ll do what she thinks is right.”
“I guess so,” Sophie grumbled reluctantly as the doorbell chimed. “I’ll get it,” she added rather dryly, striding to the door in three steps.
Claire noted that despite Sophie’s rather large tummy, she didn’t suffer from the pregnancy waddle. Totally unfair.
Happy greetings interfered with her jealous musings as Sophie exchanged hugs with their mother and father. Her mother, a small, elegant woman in her sixties, wore white pants and a pink sweater set. Claire wondered how long it would be before she cornered her.
“Sophie, sweetheart, how was Paris?” their mother exclaimed, sending an arch glance Claire’s way. “Your sister has made herself so scarce we thought you took her with you.”
Claire groaned. Probably not long.
But her father approached her first, looking as if he’d just stepped off the golf cart with his sweater vest, tan pants, and loafers. He smiled down at her, his blue eyes reassuring. Claire noted he had a great deal more flecks of gray in his hair now than he had the last time she’d seen him.
She couldn’t recall when that had even been. Feeling guilty, she hugged him. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”
“And you, honey,” he murmured, pulling away to look down at her. “I hope everything’s all right.”
“Everything’s great.” The lie sprang to her lips easily, naturally.
His too-knowing gaze probed hers. “I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me. But now isn’t the time or the place, is it?”
“No,” she agreed, “it isn’t.”
