The Complete Novels of the Lear Sisters Trilogy (Lear Family Trilogy #1-3)

Now she wouldn’t even talk to him. He’d tried three times to get her on the phone, and three times, she’d hung up. On the fourth and fifth attempts, the answering machine had picked up. Which left him with the image of Rebecca’s face when he called her empty. And oh, lest he forget, her sobbing “You made me believe” had haunted his sleep for three nights now, and okay, his days, too, because he had believed, too. Now that belief felt dashed to pieces.

It made his little triumph with HGG look asinine by comparison. But at least he had pulled that off—HGG was now leaning toward an endorsement for Tom. Which pretty much left Matt standing smack dab in the middle of the huge hole Rebecca had created when she quit the campaign.

He once thought he’d be happy if she was gone from the campaign, but he wasn’t even remotely happy. He was pretty miserable, actually. All this time, he’d thought Tom was treating him like a second-class citizen when he was, in actuality, the Anointed One. Tom had even allowed him to be bumped off his anointed pedestal by a former beauty queen.

It wasn’t Tom, it was Matt’s own jealousy and arrogance that had put him there. Maybe Rebecca was right—he’d mowed everyone over as if he was somehow entitled to do so. Pat had great ideas about education, which he could not recite today if his life depended on it. Angie had done a great job with the phone bank, in spite of his early misgivings about her. Had he even once commended her? Hell, no. Even Gilbert had written a couple of excellent speeches, yet Matt continued to think of Gilbert as a kid who needed his guidance.

And in the process of reviewing his more outstanding character flaws, he’d have to admit that he never really gave Rebecca any credit. She had worked extremely hard, pulled off an improbable bingo fund-raiser, and was always thinking outside the box. But he’d lashed out at her for being the kind of woman Tom wanted to hang with instead of him, and now, thanks to his supersized ego (which he had not heretofore known was that big), he was standing in the hole, missing her.

God yes, he missed her. He missed her smile, her carefully hand-addressed envelopes and children’s drawings. Missed hearing the latest diet or recipe tip for the e-newsletter and her motivational office decorations. And Matt missed Grayson. That kid slayed him. He missed green slime candy and Hot Wheels and SpongeBob SquarePants.

With Rebecca and Grayson gone, the whole campaign felt empty, and Matt cursed himself for having such a fat mouth. This was a mess he had no clue how to climb out of—before, on those rare occasions he’d gotten himself into trouble with a woman, he’d never really cared enough to get himself out. He damn sure had never said such hateful things to a woman before, even the one or two who probably deserved it. The whole deal was pretty remarkable for a former all-star ladies’ man and left him feeling very uncomfortable and uncertain, like he really didn’t know what he was doing anymore about anything.

Matt sort of muddled through the days after that bad scene with Rebecca, feeling very weird. He skipped Sunday dinner with the folks, not feeling up to their usual cheerful interest in his life.

It wasn’t until the following Friday that he actually got Rebecca on the phone. He had, in a moment of desperation, tried one last time, and much to his great surprise, she picked up. “Rebecca? Rebecca, how are you?” he quickly asked when she answered.

His question was met with cold silence.

“Listen, I really need to talk to you about the other night—”

“Matt?” she quietly interrupted, her voice sounding hollow and far away.

“Yes?”

“Please don’t call me again,” she said politely, and the phone went dead.

That was when Matt decided to make the drive out to see his folks, because he needed something solidly familiar.

He met his sister, Bella, on the drive, holding her baby girl. “Where’s Bill?” he asked, reaching for the baby.

“Golf, where else?” Bella said. “Cameron, will you let your Uncle Mattie hold you?” she cooed, handing her nine-month-old daughter over to Matt, who smiled at him as he gazed down at her chubby cheeks.

“Look at her smile,” Bella said. “She really likes you, Matt. Doesn’t that make you want one of these for your very own?”

Yes. Oh, yes. “Maybe someday,” he said noncommittally, and together with his sister, walked inside.





Sherri Parrish, Matt’s mom, was watching her two oldest children on the drive and saw the wistful look on Matt’s face as he looked down at his niece, which she thought was a little odd. Of all her children, Matt was the least interested in marriage and children. Kept complaining that he hadn’t found The One.