A Man Worth Loving. Kimberly Meter Van

now and I love it.”

      “No need to get snippy, Aubrey,” her mother admonished. “I was only curious. It just seems so random, that’s all.”

      “Well, perhaps it was but now I’m quite happy.”

      “Excellent. Then you’ll enjoy showing us the sights.”

      Aubrey knew that the moment her mother stepped foot in Emmett’s Mill she was likely to declare there were no sights to see, so Aubrey figured it was best to avoid the whole fiasco of a visit in the first place. She tried a different route to dissuade her mother from her plan to visit, and by visit she meant berate Aubrey constantly for ruining her life and by proxy Barbie’s life. “Besides, Mother, I really don’t have time to visit. I have a full-time job as a nanny for this adorable little boy and so it would be a wasted trip. And I thought you and Arianna had plans to redecorate the apartment? You know that will take at least a few months just to agree on the designer.”

      Arianna and Barbie always quibbled over taste and style, sending more than one designer running away in frustration at their inability to come to an agreement on anything from textiles to color. The very idea of being caught in their web of misery was enough to make Aubrey want to live in a cave.

      “Oh, Aubrey,” Barbie said in distaste. “Being a glorified babysitter is not what anyone would call a career. You’re an Ivy League graduate for crying out loud. If you’re not going to use your good looks to their full potential and snag a suitable husband—which really, you should give another thought to as you’re not getting any younger—then you might as well find a way to put that ridiculous degree of yours to use.”

      “I am putting that degree to good use, Mother,” she said, her blood pressure rising with each syllable dripping with disdain from her mother’s professionally plumped lips. “I have a degree in child psychology and a minor in child development. I guess you could say I’m an expert in the field of raising children to be happy, well-adjusted adults.”

      “Darling, a piece of paper on the wall does not make you an expert in raising children when you’ve never had one of your own,” Barbie remarked offhandedly. “And since you can’t have children—someday you’ll realize what a blessing that is—then it’s a bit like someone trying to say they can pilot a plane because they’ve mastered a video simulation. Surely you can see the logic in that.”

      Why didn’t she just hang up? Aubrey actually pictured slamming the phone down so hard that her mother’s ears rang like church bells on a Sunday morning. But she didn’t. Instead she simply remained silent, locked inside her own head while her mother ranted and raved about how her daughter was withering on the vine, going on as if they were in the 1800s and Aubrey was going to die a spinster. Oh, for shame!

      “I have to go, Mother,” she broke in, unable to take another minute, but she had to be sure that she’d dissuaded her mother from boarding a plane to come to Emmett’s Mill. “I promise to visit during the holidays,” she offered, hoping that little white lie was enough to satisfy Barbie for now. She’d think of another excuse not to go home later.

      “Truly?” Barbie asked, clearly suspicious. “You’re not just saying that to get me off the phone?”

      Damn, the woman was onto her. She faked a light laugh. “Mother…please. Would I do that?”

      “Arianna would and you’re exactly alike,” Barbie said, sounding a little hurt, but Aubrey was too impatient to get away from the sound of her mother’s voice in her ear to care.

      “We are not alike and you know it,” Aubrey said.

      “All right, maybe you’re a little more…considerate, but only by a smidge,” Barbie conceded grudgingly. Then her tone brightened. “Oh, if you can make it for Christmas you can go to the Buchanan party with us. You know how Brett always had a thing for you. He became a doctor, you know.”

      Brett Buchanan had grown up to be a dog. Any woman who had the misfortune to bring him home was bound to catch fleas…or something else. She shuddered openly. “No thanks. Not interested in dating anyone, Mother. Not right now. I’m trying to focus on getting myself together first.”

      “Fine. Suit yourself. I’ll be in touch.”

      And the line went blissfully dead. No endearments, no warm goodbyes, just a click and then nothing. She tried to imagine what it’d be like to have a mother who was actually warm and loving, prone to giving big full-body hugs instead of air kisses and awkward pats on the hand as a way of communicating affection. But then, what was the point of conjuring fantasy when it had no chance of becoming reality?

      Thoughts going rapidly downhill along with her mood, she made quick work of getting dressed and headed to the Halvorsen home for work. The memory of Ian’s sweet face brightened her disposition and pushed the sour reminder of her mother’s conversation far from her mind.

      AUBREY WAS IN THE LIVING ROOM thumbing through a magazine while Ian played on a quilted blanket on the floor when there was a knock at the door.

      Giving Ian a smile, she opened the door to find Annabelle on the other side. Sammy’s sister-in-law lifted a bag and smiled warmly. “I have Ian’s milk delivery,” she said as Aubrey ushered her in.

      “Oh, good. He drank the last batch this morning.”

      Annabelle started putting the plastic bags filled with milk into the freezer so they’d stay fresh longer and then when that was finished, she seemed inclined to chat so Aubrey invited her to stay. In truth, Aubrey was curious to know more about Dana, and Annabelle seemed a logical place to start since Sammy wasn’t up to sharing.

      “So how’s it going with Ian?” Annabelle asked, pausing to pluck the boy from the floor to hold him close. She placed a smacking kiss against his forehead and he gurgled with delight, trying to grab on to the burnished-copper curls falling around her shoulders. “Is he giving you any trouble?”

      “Not at all, he’s a wonderful baby,” Aubrey said, smiling at her easy and affectionate way with Ian. It was apparent Annabelle loved Ian deeply and it touched Aubrey to see that open fondness. “I wondered if you might be able to tell me what Dana was like,” she said, watching Annabelle closely for any signs that she might’ve stepped into forbidden territory. When Annabelle merely smiled, her eyes warm with the memory of her friend, Aubrey knew she’d come to the right source.

      “Dana was strong,” Annabelle started, her voice nostalgic. “She overcame a lot from her childhood to build a better life. She was smart and funny, but she was allergic to bullshit. She didn’t dish it out and certainly didn’t let anyone give it to her. She’d be the first person to call you on it if you tried. She’s the reason me and Dean got together.”

      “Really? How so?” Aubrey asked, tucking her feet under her in anticipation of a good story. Lord, she was a sucker for a sweet romance. “If you wouldn’t mind sharing…I’d love to hear what happened.”

      Annabelle grinned and blushed a little but seemed open to sharing. “Well, Dana had already married Sammy when I came to Emmett’s Mill. She knew from the start that Dean was my perfect match even if we were both bound and determined to muck it up. I fought it pretty hard but in the end…he turned out to be my knight in shining armor and I couldn’t resist.” Annabelle got a dreamy look in her eyes but then must’ve realized how silly she looked and blushed deeper. “I must sound like a total sap. But it’s true. Those Halvorsen men…good stock. Every single one of them.”

      “I heard that Josh punched Samuel…do you know why?” she asked, hesitant to bring it up, but her curiosity was burning a hole in her brain.

      “Um, yeah, I did hear about that,” Annabelle said but seemed reluctant to elaborate. She caught Aubrey’s searching gaze and then said, “Well, you have to understand that Sammy hasn’t been himself since Dana died. He’s been…uh…regressing.”

      “Regressing?” She frowned. “How do you mean?”

      Annabelle looked conflicted.