Concern balled in his chest as Wyatt accepted the coffee, dropped a tip into the jar, and made his way back out again. Was Chrissy sick? She seemed fine yesterday. What if something was wrong with Emma? He got to the country club and was about to get out of his car when the concern and curiosity got the better of him. He pulled his phone out and sent Chrissy a text. “One of your coworkers said you had to take off today without much notice. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
It was silly, but he hoped for an immediate response. He definitely didn’t get one. Five minutes later, he sighed and went to work. Chrissy could be in with the doctor right now. Or driving. Or there were any number of other reasons for why she wasn’t responding. For that matter, texting back may not be one of her priorities. Their friendship was new, after all.
Did she even count him a friend? Or was he simply one of her frequent coffee customers? Thinking about it made him realize that he did consider her to be a friend. That she felt the same way was more important to him than it ought to be.
When he reached his office at the club, he was surprised to find Violet there waiting for him. She was sitting on the edge of his desk with a hand on one hip as though waiting to scold him about something. Just what he didn’t need.
“What’s up, Violet?” He walked past her and took a seat in his chair. There was a stack of papers resting on his desk that hadn’t been there yesterday evening. Most likely new to-do lists from Dad. He motioned to them. “It looks like I’m going to be busy today.” Hopefully Violet would say her piece and go her own way. It wasn’t likely, though. Violet took her sweet time about everything, unless it was somethingshethought was important.
“Who was she really?”
“Who was who?”
Violet scowled. “Chrissy. You know, the date you brought to Gran’s birthday party? I went by to visit Gran yesterday, and Chrissy was all she could talk about.”
“Okay.” He was glad Gran liked Chrissy so much, but what did any of this have to do with Violet’s visit here? If anything, this was a conversation that might be coming up between him and Gran. He’d deal with that when he had to. Why was Violet so invested in this? “I guess I’m confused as to what any of that has to do with you.”
That was probably the wrong phrasing to use. Violet felt anything going on in the family was something she should not only know about, but at least be invited to give her input. She raised an eyebrow and slid off his desk to stand and face him.
“You never mentioned Chrissy before. She doesn’t seem your type.”
Now it was time for Wyatt to raise an eyebrow at her. “Excuse me? And you know my type?”
Violet only shrugged. “Come on, little brother. You and I both know Chrissy’s not the right person to help you get over Ashley. She works at a coffee shop, for goodness’ sake. You’re nearly thirty-eight. Dad’s stressed about making sure the country club stays in the family. And Gran’s worried the family name is going to die with you. She’s not getting any younger, you know.”
“I’m aware of that, thank you. And I don’t need help to get over Ashley—I’ve been over her for a very long time.” His ex was the last person he wanted to talk about. Violet, as well as the rest of his family, knew the kind of hell that woman put him through. He wished he could dismiss her actions as easily as most of them had.
He glared at his oldest sister and wished she’d mind her own business. The last thing he needed was for her to throw Gran into the conversation and try to guilt-trip him into something stupid. One would think that her own marriage and three kids were enough to keep her busy. “And since you don’t feel like Chrissy’s my type, you think I should be looking elsewhere?”
Violet’s eyes narrowed. “She works at a coffee shop, little brother. Her hair…” She trailed off as if what she mentioned alone ought to settle everything. “I can’t begin to understand why you asked her to Gran’s party. What were you thinking?”
Wyatt stared at her. Violet had certainly shown her true colors many times growing up, but this was a new low. To dismiss Chrissy entirely based on her employment was unacceptable, and he was certain he’d feel that way if Violet was talking about anyone else as well. He stood again, a good six inches taller than his big sister. “You know nothing about Chrissy.” He nodded toward the obviously new shoes she was wearing—an obsession of Violet’s that she and her husband were in frequent discontent over. “I hardly think you’re in a position to judge my girlfriend on how she makes a living.” He was surprised to hear the wordgirlfriendleave his lips, but he didn’t think Violet noticed.
Instead, he picked up the stack of papers. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some work to do.” He heard her huff and puff as she left the room and closed his office door harder than necessary behind her. Only then did Wyatt sink into his desk chair again with a groan.
Violet was like a bulldog who didn’t let anything go until she’d shaken the life out of it. He’d like to think she would go on her merry way and leave Chrissy out of everything, but he knew better than that.
His thoughts settled on Chrissy. Sure, she was different from any other woman he dated. And Violet was right about one thing: Chrissy didn’t fit what would’ve been considered his type. But seeing how things had ended in the past, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
Wyatt checked his phone and wished she’d text him back. Just because she’d agreed to go out with him Saturday night did not mean they were in a relationship. If they were, he’d know what was going on. And Wyatt certainly didn’t need Violet to remind him of how disastrous his last relationship was. Every detail was etched into his brain as well as his self-confidence. He resisted the temptation to text Chrissy a second time and tried to focus on his work.
~*~
Chrissy placed a cup of hot peppermint tea on the table next to the couch where Emma was resting. Her head was on a pillow with one arm curled beneath it. She gave Chrissy a small, tired smile. “Thanks, sis.”
“You’re welcome.” She sat down on the worn recliner nearby. Everything about the day had been exhausting, from the moment she’d awakened at three in the morning to sounds of Emma coughing and wheezing until she’d returned with medication from the pharmacy not long ago at two in the afternoon. She stifled a yawn.
“You should go take a nap,” Emma said, her words punctuated with a round of coughing.
Chrissy shook her head. “I’m good here.” She crossed her arms for emphasis and leaned into the recliner, a spot in the back poking into her ribs like it always did. One of those comforting annoyances.
The sounds of Mom working in the kitchen filtered into the living room. She was making chicken soup despite Emma insisting she wasn’t hungry. Chrissy completely understood the need to feel busy. That’s why there was a cup of tea sitting nearby completely untouched.
Emma’s eyes drifted closed. Chrissy stared at her sister. Bronchitis was nothing to play around with anyway, but when Emma’s immune system was as compromised as it was, this could be dangerous. She’d spent a good part of the day receiving fluids and breathing treatments. They had a whole list of things to watch for. If Emma developed a high fever, or if the breathing treatments they could now do at home didn’t help, they were to take her to the emergency room.
Emma didn’t want to talk about the fact that her job was making her sick more often than normal, but it was something she was going to have to address sooner rather than later. Working at the desk instead of directly with the animals helped, but she was still around all the hair and dander. And even if Emma wouldn’t admit it, Chrissy was certain she was still helping with the animals at times. It’d be nearly impossible not to in that situation, especially when Emma loved them so much.
Needless to say, Chrissy would be taking shifts with Mom to be certain Emma was doing okay and that her health wasn’t deteriorating through the night.
