When We Found Home

In contrast, Alberto had wanted to be a part of everything Malcolm did. He’d taken him to the business each week, after school, introducing him to the wonder that was Alberto’s Alfresco. He’d attended parent-teacher evenings and every game when Malcolm had signed up for the soccer team. When Malcolm had lost his mother, Alberto had been the one to hold him while he sobbed out his pain. Jerry hadn’t even come to the funeral.

Years later, after Jerry had died, Malcolm had moved back into the big house on the lake. He knew his grandfather wasn’t getting any younger and wanted to spend time with him while he could.

At the top of the stairs, the landing became a long hallway. To the left was his suite of rooms, to the right were two additional suites. Keira had the corner rooms at the far end, chosen for the big windows and amount of light they let in. Carmen had been worried that a child from sunny Los Angeles would find winter in Seattle too dreary. Malcolm had thought nothing about Keira’s personal space beyond the fact that it was mercifully far from his own.

He liked to think he was inexperienced when it came to children rather than the asshole brother Keira’s phone had proclaimed, but he had a feeling she was more correct than him.

He walked down the hall, then knocked on the partially open door. “It’s Malcolm. May I come in?”

There was a very long pause followed by a soft “Yes.”

Keira lay in the middle of her full-size bed. She looked impossibly small and pale against the lavender linens, her freckles and eyes the only color on her face.

The bed was against the far wall, giving her a view out large windows. She had the corner room. On the second wall of windows were a built-in window seat and a desk. Opposite them were custom bookshelves and a large dresser for storage.

Her suite was the mirror image of his at the opposite end of the house. He knew there was a large second room that had been decorated as a playroom-hanging out space for her and a full bathroom. His second room had been converted into a home office.

Carmen had picked out the furniture and arranged for the remodel and installation. Malcolm had done little beyond nod when shown the color palette she’d chosen. Now he wondered if Keira liked the room or not, because God knew he’d never bothered to ask.

He pulled her desk chair over to the bed and sat down close to her. The untouched breakfast tray sat on her nightstand.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “My head hurts but the painkillers help. I’m going to get up later and walk around. Carmen says I need to get my blood flowing.”

“Makes sense. The plan is for you to stay home until Monday, unless your pediatrician changes things tomorrow. I’ve spoken with your counselor at school. Your assignments are posted online and I’ll pick up the rest of your books later. Everyone agrees you can wait until you feel up to starting on your homework.”

Her blue gaze was steady, her mouth a straight line. “So if I think I’m not ready, I don’t have to do anything?”

“Not for now.”

“Isn’t that ridiculous? What if I say I’m never ready to start studying? How do you know I won’t take advantage? Maybe I’m perfectly fine and should go back to school today.”

He swore silently, realizing once again he was the least equipped person to be dealing with a twelve-year-old kid. He had no idea of what to say or think or how to act. She was a mystery to him, and not a fun one. She looked like their maternal grandmother and enough like Jerry to make him wary, but her personality was all her own.

“Keira, you were hit by a car. I think you get a break for a day or two.” He hesitated. “Do you want to go back to your classes today?”

Tears filled her eyes. For one horrifying second, he thought she was going to start crying, but then she blinked several times and shook her head. “No. I’ll stay home until Monday. But I’ll start doing my homework as soon as my headache goes away.”

Was a headache normal? Should he offer her something? He gritted his teeth and reminded himself that Carmen was handling the medications. Better that it stay in the capable hands of one person.

“What about the kitten?”

At first he wasn’t sure what she was referring to, then he remembered the scraggly-looking creature Delaney had carried into the ER.

Delaney—now there was a problem without a solution. He’d done his best to avoid thinking about her, although at some point they were going to have to talk. He owed her. He had no idea what she thought of him, but based on how she’d glared at him while they’d been discussing Keira, she no longer found him the least bit appealing. Not that he cared about her or her opinion, it was only—

“Malcolm!”

What? Oh, right. “The kitten.”

“Yes. I’ve been saving my allowance. I don’t know how much it costs to buy litter and stuff but maybe instead of giving me the money, you could use it to buy food and a scratchy post. Cats need to sharpen their claws.” Her jaw tightened and her chin raised ever so slightly. “Because I’m keeping the kitten.”

He was more taken aback by the gesture than the words. Not that it looked familiar, but because he knew what it felt like to do it, mostly because he did it himself when he was backed into a corner. The gesture was a combination of defiance and bravado—a message to himself and whoever had provoked the sensation of being trapped.

On the heels of that revelation, he was forced to deal with the reality of what her words meant. Keira was concerned about having to pay for a pet. The guilt knife turned a couple more times, reminding him that if there was a way to screw up relationships in his family, he’d probably done each at least twice.

“You’re welcome to keep the kitten—” he began, only to have her interrupt.

“It’s just a kitten. Even cats aren’t that big and I’ll totally take care of her. I’ll put the litter box in the alcove in my playroom and keep her in my rooms. She’ll be fine.”

He smiled. “Like I said, you’re welcome to keep the kitten.”

Her fierceness faded a little. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Tell Carmen what you need and she’ll get it. We’ll have to have it checked out by a vet.”

“Delaney already took her in. She texted me and told me and that she’s a girl and she’s pretty skinny but healthy otherwise. Lizzy is nine or ten weeks old. They think she was just abandoned.” Keira’s mouth trembled. She paused for a second, as if to gather self-control, then continued. “She’ll need vaccinations, though. Do you want my savings for that?”

He didn’t know if he should swear, throw something or take off for Bali. Instead he leaned toward his sister and did his best to look friendly rather than frustrated. “Keira, I will pay for whatever your kitten needs. Food, scratching posts, toys, vaccinations. Just tell Carmen, all right?”

“What if she needs surgery?”

“It’s covered.”

“Good, because she’ll need to be spayed when she’s six months old. It’s the responsible thing to do.”

“I’m glad you know that.”

“What if she needs a heart transplant? They’re expensive. Will you do that?”

He was fairly confident there was no such thing as a feline heart transplant, but that wasn’t the point.

He looked at Keira, meeting her wary gaze, and nodded. “Yes. I will pay for your cat to have a heart transplant.”

She visibly relaxed. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll take good care of Lizzy. I promise.”

“Why Lizzy? Why not Muffin or Fluffy or whatever else it is people call cats?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m twelve, Malcolm, not five. It’s Lizzy for Elizabeth Taylor because she’s beautiful. I know it’s a cliché, but it reminds me of Angelina and I still miss her.”

He was having trouble following the conversation. “Angelina is your friend from Los Angeles. The, ah, person who took you in after you lost your mom?”

“I didn’t lose my mom. She took off and left me and then she overdosed.”

Keira was nothing like the sweet kids who had populated the sitcoms he’d watched when he’d been growing up. “But Angelina is the person who took you in?”

“Yes.”