Family Love

“Come home, Angelique,” she’d pleaded with me. “I need your help.”

But I was not going home. I couldn’t face it and all it represented for me, especially knowing Calvin and his wife lived there.

In the two years since my divorce, I’d maintained as much distance as I could, skipping the Love family Christmas with excuses about busy seasons and whatnot involving my new, lame-ass job that at least allowed me to stay in the city. But this year, I knew I’d get roped into the melee. I had about six weeks to figure a way out, but part of me didn’t want to do that.

“All right, all right, hold your water,” I said, grabbing my purse and heading out into the cool, early November air. “I’m coming. I’m just a few blocks away.”

“Hurry, will ya?” He hung up.

Deciding that to walk there would be quicker and cheaper than hailing and paying for a cab, I started hoofing it toward the giant bookstore, where, I was told, they’d had to issue tickets for the A.L. Amatore book reading and signing.

Aiden had taken our father’s family’s old country name as his pen name. The movie based on his first book, the one chronicling our parents’ wild and crazy start as a couple, was being filmed in and around a horse farm in Virginia, since hardly any decent farms remained in Kentucky.

I’d stayed in touch with Cal after he made that trip down to Florida, catching me at my absolute worst. He and his wife, another doctor he’d met and dated in med school after I took a powder and mailed him his ring back like the loser I was, lived in Lexington now with a mortgage, a dog, probably even a white picket fence. But no kids. A fact that gave me a completely inappropriate sense of satisfaction. I tried not to resent the hell out of the woman, considering I’d never met her. I usually failed.

The whole family was descending on my city for this weekend, complete with kids, teenagers, the works. I’d dreaded it like the very plague, but now that the big day had arrived, I found myself looking forward to guiding everyone around, taking them to a show, to some great restaurants, seeing the familiar-to-me sights through their fresh, un-cynical eyes.

I noted the long line out the door of the bookstore, and experienced a thrill of pride for my youngest brother. Although I was also a little squeamish about having my parents’ early lives splashed all over the big screen. Aidan had used different names, but it was well known that he’d based it on their story.

Sometimes, especially lately, a waitress or checkout girl would do a double take at the sight of my name, then shoot me a knowing smile, or flat-out ask me if that sexy Italian stable hand was my father.

I hadn’t read the book, and I didn’t think any of my brothers had, either—even Kieran, the one among them who actually read books.

But today was all about Aiden, “Little A,” as he’d been referred to until he got old and big enough to put a stop to it.

His wife, Rosie, and their kids—Jeff, now an angst-riddled teen, and Mandy, their energetic little girl who’d apparently decided she wanted to be a horsewoman like her grandmother—had been flown in by his publisher and put up at an expensive downtown hotel. He was doing the circuit—national morning talk shows, a few late night ones, and two big signings. Today was the first.

By the time I got past the guy at the door by flashing my VIP pass and made it up to the second floor, everyone was there.

Mama and Daddy had flown in with Antony, Kieran, Margot, and Cara, along with all their kids.

Dominic and Diana drove up with Jace and LeeA

I hugged everyone, exclaimed over kids, including AliceLy

“You’re late,” Mama said, and rubbed something off my cheek with her finger.

“Don’t spit shine me.” I ducked out of her reach.

She frowned and sighed, shouldering her purse and glaring at the growing crowd. “I hate these things,” she said. Daddy put an arm around her and kissed her forehead. “How’s the job?”

“Fine,” I said, unwilling to explain how much I hated it.

The doors had finally opened, and the long line was moving forward, headed to the escalators. Rosie gave Aiden one more kiss, then herded her kids over to us. Mandy latched on to her grandma.

“Let’s go find a horse book,” she insisted. Mama smiled and smoothed her curly brown hair.

I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Antony with his son, Josh, Mandy’s counterpoint cousin, born within hours of each other. The boy had his mother Margot’s looks, coolly blond with ice blue eyes, but the Love family jaw line and chin dimple. Since he was growing into his father’s attitude, I knew they were in for a seriously wild ride once he discovered how his stark, aloof good looks would be catnip to girls.

Kieran had Sean, his youngest, on his shoulders. Cara stood next to Frankie, their oldest. Margot was fussing over AliceLy

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of them all. Desire for stability, a good man, and a family had been consuming me lately. I figured it was my biological clock, tick-tocking away within my apparently barren body. Explicit and constant dreams about Calvin Morrison woke me nearly every night, leaving me pissed off, feeling sorry for myself, and insomniac.

A sharp smack on my butt made me shriek. Dom stood behind me, shit-eating grin on his face. Diana walked over to hug my parents. Jace had her little girl LeeA

We all turned to look at our youngest brother Aiden, who was sitting, sipping water, and looking sheepish at the sight of the masses of people who’d come to hear him read and have him autograph their book.

“Fuckin’ bookworm,” Dom said, his grin getting wider. “I always knew he had ‘famous’ written all over him.”

My sense of peace in the presence of my entire family ought to have been a warning. Nothing was ever this calm or perfect or wonderful for the Love family.

I saw her first.

I don’t know why I picked her out of the crowd. I’d been talking to Cara and Kieran while their little boys raced around the room, ostensibly being watched by the older cousins.

“Got a promotion,” Kieran was saying.

“Oh?” I’d said, preoccupied for some reason with a woman in the line waiting with the latest A.L. Amatore novel tucked under one arm. I frowned, wondering why she was bugging me. “Oh, wait, you’re go

“Yeah,” he said, gri

“We weren’t going to say yet, Francis.” She used the short form of his middle name in a way that made me smile. “This is Aiden’s weekend, remember? Besides, it’s a total accident,” she said to me. “I’m too damn old. Sean’s almost nine already. My doctor is pissed off at me. That’s such a weird thing, making your doctor mad.”