He cut his eyes at her. “Harper’s not coming over today. Make whatever you want for dinner.”
“Why isn’t she coming over?”
He took a breath and tried not growl at her. Joyce didn’t deserve it and she had already borne the brunt of his frustrations too many times. “Because I can’t write today.”
“You’re in your office at your computer. You look like you’re going to write. You wrote yesterday and the day before—”
“Joyce.Please.” He was on the verge of cracking. He kept his eyes on the computer, but he could still see her in his peripheral vision. Watching him. Evaluating his mental state. Pitying him.
Her eyes narrowed, filling with compassion and understanding a moment later. “Oh,” she said softly, with anguish in her voice. “You had the dream again, didn’t you?”
He ground his teeth together and looked blindly at the screen. “I just want to be left alone.”
Joyce didn’t budge, although he was sure she’d understood him. “Talking to Harper seems to help you. Maybe she could help with this?”
“Nothing can help with this.” Although Harper was some kind of therapist, wasn’t she? Maybe she could help. But he couldn’t find it within him to care. He sighed and finally looked at her. “I’ll eat the scone, all right?”
She gave a little nod. “If you need anything—”
“I’ll let you know.” He picked up one half of the scone to prove he was going to eat it.
He set it down again when she left, brushing his fingers off on his pajama pants. He glanced at them. He hadn’t gone for a run, hadn’t showered, hadn’t changed.
He needed to do those things. But he couldn’t find the energy or the desire. Not today. He got up from his desk, the email unsent. He closed the office door and lay down on the couch again.
Nothing mattered right now. Jeanie was gone. She always would be gone. Nothing he did was going to change that.
Nothing would ever matter again.
ChapterForty-One
“In you go,” Harper said. Archie trotted through the door ahead of her. She’d been planning to start coffee but as she came back from letting him go potty, she could smell some brewing. That was such a good thing to find this early in the morning.
Frankie was in the kitchen getting a cup of that coffee. Her laptop, tablet, and fancy electronic pen were on the counter.
“Morning,” Harper said. “It’s so nice to have the coffee already going. Thanks for doing that.”
“No problem,” Frankie said. “I’m used to getting up early, although I’ve been trying to sleep in while I was here. Apparently not this morning, though. Figured I might as well make myself useful. How’d you sleep?”
“Good. You?”
Frankie nodded. “Good.”
Archie drank from his bowl, slurping noisily. Harper got a scoop of kibble for him and added it to the other bowl. He went to work on breakfast right away.
“So,” Frankie started. “I talked to Willa last night. She’s struggling a bit. Just burned out, I think, from so much work and school and never getting a break.” She made an odd face. “I did something, and I hope you’ll be okay with it.”
Harper took her phone out of her back pocket, set it on the counter and took a seat at the breakfast bar, instantly curious and slightly trepidatious. After all, Frankie had contacted their birth mother without Harper knowing about it. She gave her sister her full attention. “What did you do?”
Frankie inhaled a deep breath, letting it out again before she answered. “I invited her here for a week. I hope that was okay. I know I should have asked you first, but it was late, and she was on the verge of tears, and I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.”
Harper immediately shook her head. “Oh, my gosh, don’t be sorry. It’ll be great to have her here. I haven’t seen her in ages. I’m glad you invited her.”
“You are?”
“Absolutely.”
Frankie slumped like a weight had come off her shoulders. “Okay, good. Thank you. You’re a good sister. And a fabulous aunt.”
