“Where . . .” The word got out before Charlie could stop it. She closed her teeth on the rest of the question.

“And David knows because he’s David.” Allie hadn’t noticed her slip. “And Kenny in the coffee shop knows because I switched to herbal tea. I’d have told the aunties sooner, but you were away.”

“You should’ve called.”

“I did call.” Allie snatched the cushion back, her fingers white where they dug into the worn velvet. “You hung up on me! I gave you a chance to be Wild and then I called and then you hung up on me and I don’t have any sisters and now I won’t have any daughters!”

“There it is,” Charlie murmured as Allie began to sob. She tugged the cushion away and gathered Allie up in her arms as Katie slid down onto the sofa with them. When Graham stepped forward, she caught his eye and jerked her head toward the twins’ room.

*   *   *

Graham was sitting in the rocking chair, one of the boys tucked up against his chest, his cheek resting on the soft cap of chestnut hair. Standing in the doorway, Charlie grinned when she realized he was humming Burton Cummings’ “Rocket Launcher” as he rocked. He’d been remarkably understanding about the boys being Gales, only insisting they carry Buchanan as a middle name. Charlie’d assumed Allie had charmed him, but she insisted she hadn’t.

When he looked up, she softened her expression although, with only the night light on, he probably wouldn’t be able to see much detail. “We put her to bed. Katie’s with her until you go in.”

“Is she . . .” Graham kissed his son on the top of the head and stood. Tried again. “Is she all right?”

“Mostly.” Charlie moved over to the crib and stroked Evan’s cheek. No, Edward, it was definitely . . . probably Edward still in the crib. “It’s complicated. We have sisters. And daughters. And she’s . . . different.”

“So are you.” Evan fussed a little as Graham set him down beside his brother.

The difference was, Charlie liked being different. “Hanging up on her worked out for the best. Katie’s always been more of a sister to her than I have.”

Hand rubbing his son’s back, Graham huffed out a soft laugh. “I should hope so.” Fingers lingering, he straightened. “Are you coming in?”

“Not tonight. Katie and I will sleep in my room. At the risk of sounding all tree of life tote bag, you two need to . . .” Charlie waved a hand. “. . . connect.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Since neither of us are fifteen and all oh-my-God insecure about where we stand in her life, yes, I’m sure. Go.”

He got halfway to the door, stopped, came back, and kissed her sweetly. Forehead resting against hers, he whispered, “It’ll be okay.”