“Woman, you’re too much.” I chuckled and took her hand. “But now that you’ve given me that idea, that’sdefinitelyin the plans for after the party, when we come back to the room.”
A few hours into the party, I paused to admit to myself that I was having a surprisingly good time.
Drew had gone all out, of course, from the decor to the food and music to the special touches like the cinematic “life rewind” video that played while we ate an incredible meal. The ballroom was transformed into a twinkly, over-the-top celebration, but what I was feeling was bigger than the party.
For the first time in forever, it seemed like the old days. Or at least as close of a version of the old days we could have with theheart of our family missing. My brothers and I shared plenty of laughs over dinner, reminiscing about when life was simple.
It was no surprise that Gwen fit in perfectly. She was my emotional support human, giving me secret nods and check-ins throughout the night and squeezing my hand when the conversation turned dicey. But overall, it was a much more pleasant evening than I’d anticipated.
A win all around.
The night shifted into overdrive once my father gave his surprisingly emotional toast and the fireworks kicked off. The open bar and DJ had everyone on the dance floor, which was my cue to head to the bar for refills.
“More champagne?” I asked Gwen, nodding toward her empty flute.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Ashford?”
“Never,” I whispered in her ear. “I want you fully coherent for all of the wicked things I’m going to do to you once I get you back to our room.”
Her giggle warmed my heart.
Was it supposed to be this easy? Even in the early days with Miranda when we were rushing to the altar, I couldn’t ever remember it feeling this natural. It was hard for me to believe that being close to someone could be so…right.
I was more than a little buzzed as I made my way to one of the many bars spread around the ballroom and patio, but I couldn’t blame the alcohol.
“Well, hello, stranger,” a voice rang out from behind me.
I turned to find Uncle Hank, my mom’s younger brother, grinning at me. We’d been close with her side of the family growing up, vacationing together pretty much every year, but time and distance had made it harder for us to make time to see one another. Still, he was a happy reminder of my mother. They had the same warmth, which served him well in his oncology practice.
We embraced and slapped backs. “What a night, huh?” Uncle Hank said. “But your father deserves it after everything he’s been through lately. We were all so worried.”
I swallowed my confusion, because I had a feeling my uncle had just revealed something to me that I wasn’t supposed to know. As far as I was aware, the only thing Oliver Ashford had “been through lately” was golf and vacations. Nothing to worry about at all, so what could he possibly mean?
“Right.” I pulled back to stare at his face. I didn’t want to let on that I had no idea what he was talking about. “What are your thoughts?”
The vague, open-ended question would hopefully draw him out.
“About the test results? Such a relief.”
I forced a neutral expression despite the worry boiling inside of me. “Of course, agreed. Tell me more. What’s your take?”
I didn’t want him to realize that he’d just accidentally spilled a family secret and pull some bogus doctor-patient confidentiality bullshit with me. My hunch had been right; something was up with my father, and I wasn’t going to let this chance to get some answers slip through my fingers. I swallowed down my anger, my frustration. I could deal with them later. For now, I needed to keep my cool.
“Any time we see a shadow on a scan, it’s a cause for concern,” Uncle Hank said. “And the fact that your father’s was on his lung was especially worrying given his history with smoking. Add in the inconclusive test results, and it felt like the writing was on the wall.”
An unexpected bombshell. Worry spiked before I shoved it back down again, reminding myself that the final result was okay.
“You assumed it was cancer,” I said flatly.
“Of course we did. It wasn’t a stretch to prematurely diagnose him. I suggested he go to Sloan Kettering for additional tests, and thankfully, that gave us the clarity we needed. Not cancer.”
Everything was sliding into place.Thatwas why he’d been in Manhattan when he’d announced out of the blue that he needed to hitch a ride home with us.
“What are you drinking?” Uncle Hank asked as the crowd parted and he moved up to the bar.
“Oh, I’m good for now,” I said, backing away. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit, I need to take care of something.”
More specifically, someone.
