“I told him it might be best for him to just show up for the ceremony tomorrow, if he really wished to attend the wedding to satisfy appearances, but he refused.” John looked between the two of them, helpless. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. As Eve noted, I did invite him.” Nicholas rolled a pen between his fingers. “I’ll tell Livvy.”
John placed his hand on the chair’s control. “If you point me in Tani’s direction, I’ll break the news. I’ll run interference through the night for her. I don’t want Brendan to make her upset.” Tani had always been like John’s surrogate daughter. Over the past month, the two of them had made great inroads on repairing their relationship.
Mentally, Eve cursed her father. She understood why Nicholas had invited him—that stupid hope—but that hadn’t meant Brendan had to come.
Eve allowed herself a few deep breaths. She wouldn’t become overwrought by this. Nicholas and John didn’t know the extent to which Brendan had bullied her when she was young—only Madison and, more recently, Gabe knew the more sordid stories—and she’d like to keep it that way. She’d manage her father the way she always managed him, with distance and shields.
She poked those shields. They didn’t feel as strong as usual, which was worrisome. It was okay, though. Worse came to worst, she would stay silent and fly under Brendan’s radar. She was good at that. “Tani’s in the garden in the back. The deck is accessible, and there’s a ramp for you.”
“Oh good. I was hoping to see the garden.”
“I can accompany you.”
Nicholas rested his hand on the table. “Let me phone in for one meeting and I’ll join you.”
“Keep the meeting short. You don’t want to miss out on life because you’re working, Nicholas.”
“Yes, sir.”
The second they opened the door, a shout echoed through the hallway. “Grandpa John!”
John looked one way, then the other, a smile splitting his face. “Where is that boy?”
Kareem careened around the corner, his puppy yapping behind him. Kareem scampered into John’s lap without a hint of hesitation. Kareem had a sprawling family on Sadia’s side, including two grandparents who doted on him. He had quickly adopted John as Paul and Jackson’s kin, and the affection was mutual.
John squeezed Kareem close. “There’s my boy. And who’s this?” He peered down at the puppy, who was sniffing the wheels. Eve bent, picked him up, and deposited him in her grandfather’s lap as well.
“That’s...” Kareem frowned. “I forgot what I named him last.”
John scratched the pup’s ears. “He looks like your grandpa Sam’s puppy.”
Kareem readjusted himself. He was always hungry for any stories about his late father and his family. “What was his name?”
“Rascal. I helped name him. Sam got him for a thirteenth-birthday present. I was so jealous.”
“Because he was the best dog?”
“Yes.” John’s smile faded. “I took care of him for your grandfather when he was in the camp. He was indeed the best dog.”
Kareem grew solemn as well. Sadia wanted her son to know as much of his multicultural heritage as possible—Pakistani American, Japanese American, and Hawaiian. Sadia and Jackson had matter-of-factly explained to Kareem how his grandmother Tani’s parents had once been sentenced to an internment camp for Japanese Americans. Somehow, they’d struck a balance between not scaring the boy but still impressing the gravity of his history upon him. Eve was forever awed with Kareem’s ability to process information. “Was he so happy to see Rascal when he got out of the camp?” Kareem asked.
John’s eyes darkened, and Eve knew the situation probably hadn’t been so simple. But he nodded, and Kareem didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
Kareem ruffled his dog’s ears. “I can name my dog Rascal Two. But we can call him R2. Like R2-D2.”
John cleared his throat. “Well, now. I think your great-grandpa would have liked that.”
Eve smiled, thinking about how much Gabe would enjoy the pup’s name as well.
Ah, stop thinking about him.
Impossible, especially when they came across him hugging two tall black women in the foyer. It took Eve a second to place Sonya and Rhiannon, and she immediately blushed.
She’d been daydreaming about making out with Sonya’s son. She was allowed to blush.
The trio separated. “My gosh,” the older woman exclaimed and put her hands on her hips. “Is this handsome little man Paul’s son? Last time I saw you, you were tiny.”
