His guarded expression told her that he was expecting rejection. That look on his face was enough to crack the ice at the core of her. “Okay. We can be friends.”
He released a long breath. “Good. Good.” He leaned down to give Touchdown a swift rub and then opened the back door.
“Blake,” she called out as he was leaving.
Turning, he gave her a sad smile. “What?”
“How about you hire The Grand Mountain Hotel to cater any food you want for when the guys show up? That way…” Oh, this was so awkward, she couldn’t meet his eyes. “That way, I can make the cheese dip and anything else you might want with my staff…in a more official capacity.” As a peace offering, it was the best she could do.
“That’s a mighty nice offer,” he said hoarsely, clearing his throat. “Thank you.”
Her heart was beating so fast she could barely catch her breath. “I’ll…draw up a contract once you make up a list of what you want.”
“That sounds great. I’ll sketch something out. You two have fun. I’ll see you soon.”
His broad back faded through the glass door, and she sank onto a nearby chair, awash in messy emotions threatening her control. She could feel the madness breathing down her neck.
You have to stay numb, you have to stay numb, she repeated over and over as she lowered herself to the kitchen floor and started to scrub.
Chapter 7
Facing down the Hale clan and all its adopted members took guts. Natalie arrived at Matt’s house late to ensure everyone else was already there. As she’d expected, conversations started to lag the instant she closed the door behind her. Whether she was ready or not, it was time to face them.
Moira and Caroline reached for each other’s hands, and when her nephew, Danny, made a move toward her, her brother, Andy, put a hand on his chest and kept him in place. Their eyes met, and she knew he was going to speak his mind to her—and she also knew she wouldn’t want to hear it. Her mom came out of the kitchen with Matt, who clapped his hand on her shoulder in solidarity.
They were all on Blake’s side. She could feel it. Even Matt now. Well, the speech she’d rehearsed while cleaning every tile of every floor in her house would hopefully put a stop to any future meddling.
“Can I have your attention, please?” she called out to the people in the den.
Others strolled in from the kitchen to see what was going on. She watched as Terrance emerged in the doorway, wiping his hands on his black apron, and gave her a nod.
“As I am sure you’ve all heard by now, my ex-husband, Blake Cunningham, has moved to Dare Valley. Next door to me, actually. We’ve agreed to be friends. As for his other thoughts about us, well, that’s Blake. Some of you know him. Others don’t. He’s a great guy, who just suffered a huge loss, and I don’t want things to be awkward. I don’t want you to take my side; I don’t want there to be any sides, although there usually are in divorce. I just want you to give us our space. It’s…cleaner that way.”
There was a burn under her ribs as she said those words. What she really wanted to say was that she didn’t want them to try and influence her when she already felt like she was bobbing along on a raft in the middle of the ocean. She caught sight of her mom’s frowning face and forced herself to continue.
“This whole situation is unusual, I’ll admit. There may be press arriving in town since Blake’s retirement was such a big deal, and you might be contacted due to your relationship with me. I wanted to warn you about that so you can refrain from commenting.”
“Are you warning us about pesky journalists?” her Uncle Arthur barked out, leaning on his cane. “Does that include me?”
The relief she felt that someone had finally broken the silence allowed her to release the breath she’d been holding. “Yes. You most of all, you stinker. Don’t expect me to give you an exclusive for The Western Independent. I love you, Uncle Arthur, but not that much.”
“Well, shoot. You’ve crushed an old man.”
She wanted to kiss him right then and there for lightening the mood. Danny looked confused, and no one else had cracked a smile, but at least some of the crushing pressure in the atmosphere had eased up.
“Blake is here to run a football camp for kids with intellectual disabilities as a tribute to his brother,” she told them, having decided to share all the information she had in one fell swoop in the hopes of staving off more questions later. “It’s a wonderful thing he’s doing, and I’m happy he’s doing it.”
Suddenly a memory of Adam laughing flashed through her mind, and she felt a sharp pang of grief, which only saddened her more. Blake had always said that she and Adam laughed the same way—with their whole hearts and bodies.