Unexpected Babies. Anna Adams

your cane?”

      Dan shot her a grateful glance in the rearview mirror, and she smiled back while Uncle Ford wrestled himself out of the car. He insisted he just used the cane to lure the ladies to his supposedly helpless side.

      “We both know I don’t need it,” he grumbled in what he always assumed was a whisper no one else could hear. People came out of the hospital’s vestry to see about the commotion. “Imogen, get out of this car. I’d like to visit my niece before tomorrow morning.”

      “Don’t mind him.” Imogen waved a bottle of vanilla-scented perfume, which she dabbed behind her ears. “He’s worried about your mother, but he’d rather snap at us than admit he cares.”

      Thanks to Aunt Imogen, he was the only guy his age who recognized vanilla at a hundred paces. “I don’t mind, but don’t go up to her room without me. Okay?”

      “I’ll hold Ford back, but you hurry.” She shoved her perfume back in her purse and followed his uncle to the curb.

      Dan parked in the first spot he found and dashed through the lot. Thank God for Aunt Imogen and Uncle Ford. He wouldn’t have to talk to his mom with them around. They were still arguing when he joined them.

      “Don’t tell me not to shout, Imogen. I never shout. Are you suggesting I’m not considerate of sick people?”

      “I’m suggesting you put a sock in it before that guard throws us all out.”

      Trying not to laugh, Dan herded them toward the elevator. That guard wouldn’t tell Ford Talbot to put a sock in anything. Uncle Ford’s wild life made him a legend to every man and boy in town.

      They crowded into the elevator and Aunt Imogen opened her beaded purse. With pale, pink-tipped fingers, she drew out a small brown paper package.

      “Your mother’s favorite cookies,” she said. “Oatmeal raisin macadamia nut.”

      Dan made a face. Worst combination he’d ever tasted. “She’ll be glad to see you, Aunt Imogen.”

      “Watch out your face doesn’t freeze like that. I made some chocolate chip for you. Remind me to pack them up before you go over to Ford’s tonight.” She made a tsking sound. “Chocolate chip. That’s a plain cookie.”

      “Not the way you make them.” He meant it. He could earn a fortune off her cookies if he sold them.

      Aunt Imogen looked pleased. “You may look like a Palmer, but Cate passed you the Talbot charm.”

      Yeah? Most of the time he saw himself as a stiff shadow of his inhibited father.

      At his mom’s room, Uncle Ford used his cane to open her door. His mom was standing at her window. Dan followed his uncle and aunt inside. Just in time to catch the way his mother’s bewildered smile lingered on his aunt. When she saw him, her smile faded.

      “Dan.”

      She sounded different. She seemed less worried, but she still looked at him as if she barely recognized him. He’d always wanted her to put a little distance between them, but now, he needed her to know him. Even though he was eighteen—a man—deep in his heart, he wanted his mom.

      “I’m glad to see you,” she said. “Come in. Let me ask for more chairs. Uncle Ford, take this one.” She offered him the only seat in the room, but he pushed it toward Aunt Imogen.

      “I’ll go to the nurse’s station and ask for more. They should have brought more chairs in here anyway. They know you have a big family. Sit down, Imogen.”

      “No, I’ll go with you.” She nodded encouragingly toward his mom as she hurried after Uncle Ford. “Dan and Cate might enjoy some privacy.”

      Good thing he was a man, or he’d have grabbed Aunt Imogen’s skirt as she passed him. Rocking on his heels, he looked at his mom. Tried to think of something worth saying. She limped toward him, and for a second, he thought she was going to try to hug him. Instead, she kept going. He lurched out of her way as she closed the door.

      “I have to ask you.” She held the door shut. “Why does Aunt Imogen wear a strip of cellophane tape down the middle of her forehead? I swear I saw gold graduation caps and diplomas on this piece.”

      Was that all? He shrugged. “I graduate in three weeks.”

      She waited. When he didn’t go on, she tossed up her hands in an I-still-don’t-get-it gesture.

      “Oh, the tape,” he said. “She always wears it.” He put his finger in the middle of his eyebrows and frowned to show her the kind of wrinkles Aunt Imogen was trying to avoid. “Reminds her not to frown.”

      “How old is she?”

      “Seventy-something. No one’s ever told me. Why?”

      She dropped her hands to her sides. “Well—” she cleared her throat “—I shouldn’t say this, but she has some wrinkles. And the tape—”

      Dan forgot they didn’t know each other any more. “Mom, that’s rude.”

      She raised both eyebrows. “I guess it was. Sorry.”

      Just like that, she looked like his mom, except laughter tugged at her mouth, and for no reason he could think of, he laughed with her.

      She eased the door open. “She was thoughtful to choose tape to fit your occasion.”

      “You should see the Santas at Christmas.” She laughed again, and he did, too, but he felt guilty about it. Aunt Imogen didn’t like to be laughed at.

      “I’m glad they left us alone,” his mom said. “I was dying to ask, but I didn’t want to hurt Aunt Imogen’s feelings.”

      “I think she uses the tape and the hats and stuff to hide how she feels about the gossips in this town. People still spread rumors about that Navy guy.”

      “Navy guy?” She obviously didn’t know. “My whole life is on the tip of my tongue. Not remembering baffles me. I even wondered if I was imagining Aunt Imogen’s tape.” She tightened the belt at her robe and then offered her hand. “What a relief. Good to see you, Dan.”

      Dan shook hands with her. “I’m glad to see you, too.” For the first time since she’d come out of that coma he meant it. “Mom?”

      “Huh?”

      He chewed on his lip. He wasn’t a guy who clung to his mother, but he’d been so scared she was going to die. “Can I hug you?”

      She tilted her head back, startled. “Well,” she said, “yes.” She opened her arms, but he could see she felt funny about it, too. Then as soon as he put his arms around her, she hugged back. Tight.

      “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

      “Thanks.”

      They both moved to neutral corners and avoided looking at each other. But he felt better.

      CHAPTER THREE

      SHOCKED AT Cate’s pregnancy and the fact she’d hidden it, Alan avoided his family that night. He couldn’t have hidden his panic at the uncertain future of his marriage, but he realized he had to keep fighting. Dan and Cate and the new baby needed him to save the business and their family.

      The next morning, Alan parked in front of Caroline’s small cottage. Several miles down the beach from his and Cate’s house, the cottage bore the loving stamp of the Talbot women in its neatly maintained appearance and glinting windows. Like all the Talbot homes, the cottage welcomed visitors.

      Until today, anyway. He might not be so welcome once he suggested Caroline was neglecting her sister.

      He opened the car door and strode up the walk to rap on the door. It swung open. Caroline peered around it and Alan got to the point. “Why haven’t you visited Cate?”