Ann Evans - Home To Family

She thought about what those words meant. Friends for years. The simplistic description didn’t do justice to the relationship she had shared with Matt. How could you accurately describe your feelings for someone who had, quite possibly saved your life?

“Good,” Perry said. “I don’t like the idea of someone poaching on my turf.”

“Thank you. Always nice to feel like hunted game.”

She gave him a look of mock severity, though inwardly she felt a stirring of annoyance with him again. His tendency to make assumptions regarding their relationship grated on her nerves and reminded her unpleasantly of her father’s possessive treatment of her mother.

He laughed and put his arm around her waist. “How soon can we get out of here? I want to go someplace private. I’ve yet to give you your Christmas present, you know?”

She hid a frown. There was no way she wanted to leave this party until the D’Angelo family made their appearance. Considering the hell Matt had been through last year, she felt it imperative that she see him again. See with her own eyes that he’d recovered.

“It may be a while,” she told Perry, hoping she sounded less irked than she felt. “Now that the clinic’s closed for the holidays, I don’t want to miss wishing some of our patients Merry Christmas.”

Perry looked sulky, but probably knew her well enough by now to guess that she couldn’t be talked out of staying. She snatched up a paper plate and began slipping finger foods onto it. Perry liked to eat, and the caterers had done such a wonderful job that everything looked inviting.

There was a slight swell of chatter near the front door as someone new arrived. Leslie watched as the D’Angelo clan entered, dispensing coats and jackets to the hired help and calling out Christmas greetings to friends nearby.

Leslie’s heart took a leap. For as long as she could remember she had thought them the handsomest family in the Lightning River area. As a teenager, she’d spent many nights in her narrow single bed wishing she could somehow be magically granted membership to their inner circle. With her mother weeping in her bedroom and her father passed out in the living room from too much drink, Leslie—through her friendship with Matt—had seen the D’Angelos as warmer, grander, more fun than any family she had ever come in contact with.

She was long beyond that kind of fantasizing now, but she couldn’t help thinking that they were still a force to be reckoned with. With the exception of Rafe, Matt’s younger brother who had left home to seek his own place in the world years ago, this family could weather any storm—together.

They’d certainly had to weather one last year with Matt.

Sam, the patriarch of the family, who had suffered a stroke a few years ago and was still confined to a wheelchair, led the way with his wife, Rose, at his side. Rose’s two Italian sisters, Renata and Sofia followed, looking almost like twins in straight skirts and bulky Christmas sweaters. Behind them stood Matt’s only sister, Adriana. She had on a swirling red dress that set off her hair in dramatic prettiness, and she laughed as Tessa, her niece, said something in her ear.

Behind them Leslie caught sight of a tall man in the doorway, a glimpse of shining dark hair. She felt a momentary constriction in her chest and realized she’d been holding her breath.

Matt. At last.

A moment later, she saw that it wasn’t Matt at all, but his older brother Nick, his arm around the waist of his wife, Kari, who looked surprisingly graceful and thin in spite of her advanced pregnancy.

In the last year, Leslie and Kari had become friends, and as the baby’s due date drew near, Kari had relied more and more on Leslie for advice, friendship, and occasionally—when her hormones got the best of her—a shoulder to cry on. She had married Nick after a whirlwind courtship last year and was thrilled about the baby, but scared to death.

For a handful of heartbeats after Kari entered the foyer, Leslie waited expectantly for Matt to follow. But suddenly the door swung closed, locking out the cold, night air. Clearly, no one else had come.

“Is that him?” Perry said close to her ear, indicating Nick, who was scanning the room for friendly faces. She caught a whiff of the bourbon he’d been drinking.

“No, that’s his older brother.”

As though sensing her disappointment, Perry caught her close suddenly and nuzzled her ear. “My sweet angel. Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Leslie nailed on a soft smile, determined not to let her disappointment show. So Matt had not come after all. Not surprising, really.

The Matt D’Angelo she’d grown up with had always enjoyed being the center of attention—expected it, almost. But with the exception of the quick trip back he’d made last year for Kari and Nick’s wedding, he hadn’t come home very often. There were bound to be questions, and people here tonight would be filled with curiosity.

Rosa, his mother, had hinted that Matt seemed different now, and though Leslie hadn’t had the opportunity to question exactly what that meant, she could imagine how such a tragedy could change a person. How could it not?

The evening wore on. Leslie headed for the kitchen to make sure the catering company brought extra plates to the buffet table. She ran into Doc Hayward and Kari D’Angelo talking in the back hallway.

Doc, who looked younger than his sixty-six years in a bright red sweater that set off his white hair handsomely, motioned her over. “Leslie, you’re just who I’m looking for. Do you know if we have any more of that cream at the clinic? The one I prescribed for Kari last week.”

“I think so,” Leslie told him, then smiled at Kari. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone through an entire tube already.”

The woman grimaced. “I’ve lost it. I don’t seem to be able to keep track of anything lately.”

“That’s really not unusual,” Doc said. “You do have a lot on your mind right about now.”

“I’m driving Nick crazy. He’s posted sticky notes everywhere. I used to kid him about being overly structured, but these days, having his organized mind running interference is the only thing saving me from looking like an idiot.”

“You’re doing fine,” Doc said. He patted Kari’s shoulder, and Leslie thought that, with his kind smile and gentle, faded-blue eyes, the old man had a bedside manner that could make any patient feel safe. “Another two months and this will all be behind you.”

“It can’t come soon enough.”

“Any decisions on a name yet?”

“Not yet. And since we don’t want to know the baby’s sex, the names haven’t even been narrowed down to a boy or girl. Everyone in the family has an opinion.”

Leslie grinned. “With the D’Angelos, that’s no surprise.”

“It’s just a good thing I love them so much,” Kari said, taking a sip from her glass of ginger ale. “Last week I found a note pinned to the front door of the cabin that said, “Do you like Mercedes?” I spent ten minutes trying to figure out why Aunt Renata wanted my opinion about cars before she told me that was her latest suggestion if the baby was a girl.”

The three of them laughed.

Perry was suddenly at Leslie’s side. He draped a proprietary arm around her shoulder. “What’s so amusing?”

They filled him in, but it must have lost something in the translation because he looked as if he didn’t really understand. Obviously he didn’t see the humor in living in a large Italian clan that could make you feel like the single most beloved person in the world and drive you to distraction all at the same time.

It occurred to Leslie that she didn’t know much about what Perry’s own family life was like. Or even if he was close to them. Why had she never bothered to ask?