He moved away from her to greet Trevor with a hearty clap on the back. Claire’s mother took advantage of the opportunity to swoop in, appearing before her next. She tucked her chin down and frowned at Claire in that patent, I-am-very-disappointed-in-you way that only mothers can really perfect. “How are you doing, dear?”
“Fine,” Claire answered as she received a hug from her mother.
“And how is Garrett?”
“I’m sure he’s fine too,” Claire gritted.
Her mother’s frown deepened until she had a deep vee furrowed in her forehead. “You don’t know how your husband and the father of your child is doing?”
Claire sighed, feeling a bone-deep weariness. “We’re getting a divorce, Mom. We don’t talk very often.”
“What is going through your head?” Her mother’s voice was discreetly low but still hard as steel. “You have that baby to consider now.”
“I know.” Claire made eyes at Sophie, who thankfully took the hint and came over for a rescue.
“How about some pictures?” Sophie asked with an unnatural amount of brightness. “You should see some of the gorgeous shots I got of the Notre Dame, Montmartre, the Eiffel Tower. I managed to paint a bit too, believe it or not.”
“I can’t wait,” their mother declared, turning back to Claire and patting her cheek, rather condescendingly to Claire’s mind. “We’ll talk later, dear.”
“Why don’t we all go in the living room,” Sophie suggested loudly. “Can I get anyone drinks?”
As the group began filing into the living room, the telephone rang.
“I’ll get it,” Anne offered. “Sophie, you get the pictures ready.”
“The phone’s on the kitchen counter,” Claire called to her mother. “I left it there last night.”
Anne made her way to the kitchen, brooding over Claire’s ridiculousness as she went. Really, why couldn’t Claire see she and Garrett were perfect together? Why couldn’t she put the baby’s needs first? Was this some sort of premature midlife crisis?
“It better not be,” she grumbled as she picked up the cordless phone and hit the talk button. “Hello?”
“Claire?”
Anne blinked. The confused-sounding male voice on the other end of the line was definitely not Garrett’s. “No,” she said, “this is her mother speaking.”
“I’m sorry. Could I please speak with Claire?”
He seemed polite enough, but Anne didn’t like him. What was he doing calling for her daughter, anyway? “She’s not here,” she lied. “She’s back at the house with her husband.”
Anne didn’t know why she’d said it, but she was glad she did when she heard the man’s reaction.
“Why is she there?” he asked, sounding angry, maybe even a little jealous.
Oh Lord. Suddenly everything made perfect, awful sense to Anne. Claire’s leaving Garrett, her refusal to reconcile with him even with the baby, all of it. Claire was seeing another man.
“They’ve reconciled.” The lie left her mouth before Anne even thought it over. She couldn’t let her daughter throw away a good marriage with the father of her baby for an affair with some man.
“Excuse me?” The disbelief in his voice gratified her.
“I can give you the number there if you’d still like to reach her,” she offered, feigning helpfulness.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, and hung up.
Anne hung up the cordless and stared at it for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt for meddling. Then again, she was only doing what she thought best. After all, a mother’s duty was to look after her daughter, especially when her daughter was making a complete mess of her life.
Yes, it had to be done, Anne decided, going off in search of her family. It was as simple as that.
Logan didn’t know what the hell he was doing.
