On A Night Like This (Callaways #1)

going to be in the hospital for a while anyway, so it's not like you'll be tripping over each other."
    "That's true."
    "He should be happy the house isn't sitting empty."
    "I'm not sure happy is an emotion my father feels very often." She paused. "I sometimes wonder if he has any friends. I know he has colleagues at work and he spends most of his time there, but have you ever seen anyone at his house? Does he ever have any parties, barbecues, or people over for dinner?"
    "My mom has asked him to come over to our house a few times and he always declines. I've never seen any party action."
    "It's weird to think anyone would be happy being that alone."
    "Your father is just different, Sara. I obviously don’t know him as well as you do, but he just seems like a shadow of a person."
    "That's a good way to put it," she said.
    "So think about staying. It would be fun to have you around. We can call Julia and Kristine. They'd love to see you," Emma added, referring to some of their old friends.
    "I haven't talked to them since high school."
    "They're actually nicer now," Emma said.
    "I'll think about it. What are you up to today?"
    "The family is heading to church in about an hour. You could come with us. And then join us for the traditional Callaway Sunday lunch."
    "Your family still does that?" she asked in surprise. The Callaways had always invited family and friends to come for lunch after the noon service at St. Andrews. It was a long-honored tradition.
    "It's not as big of a crowd as it used to be, but there's always good food. If you don't want to join us for church, just come for lunch. Aiden might be there," she added with a twinkle in her eye.
    "That's not necessarily a plus," she said dryly.
    "Oh, I'm betting it is," Emma said with a laugh. "I never totally understood your crush on my brother, but last night, for the first time, I saw Aiden look at you the way you always looked at him. Maybe think about that while you're deciding whether or not to make that flight tonight."

    * * *
    Sara couldn't help but think about Emma's words. They ran around and around in her head. She'd seen that same look in Aiden's eyes, but it was nice to have it confirmed by a third party. But she didn't know what to do about it. Should she stay in San Francisco for a few more days? See where things went with Aiden? Spend time with Emma? Maybe try to have another conversation with her dad?
    Or should she go back to the life she knew, the one she excelled in, the one that was a little bit lonely? If it was lonely, she only had herself to blame. She couldn't make friends in the outside world if she never left her cubicle. She didn't need to move back to San Francisco to make some changes.
    Frowning at the chaotic confusion in her head, she distracted herself with more immediate work. She grabbed a half dozen garbage bags and headed into the kitchen to start the cleanup. When they were full, she realized she'd barely made a dent. But it was a start.
    When the lingering stench of smoke got to be too much, she went upstairs and jumped in the shower. She'd always done some good thinking in the shower, but she was still dithering when she stepped out, toweled off and dried her hair. She put on some clean clothes and then stared at her open suitcase. She could pack, or she could unpack.
    Maybe she should toss a coin. It was not a bad option. She certainly wasn't going to ask her father again. He'd made his viewpoint clear yesterday. So if she didn't stay for him, then who was she staying for? Aiden?
    That was crazy. She could not turn her life upside down for him.
    She just wished the taste of his mouth didn't still linger on her lips.
    Shaking her head, she told herself to stop it, and looked for another distraction. She found it in the box of photographs she'd discovered in the basement. Maybe she should go through those, find a couple that she really wanted and take them back to New York with her.
    Happy to have some sort of a plan, even if it was a short-term activity, she grabbed the box, plopped it in the middle of the bed and sat down.
    The first few pictures she found were from her elementary school years. She'd been such an awkward child, braces on her teeth, hair that never parted evenly, pale skin from all the time she'd spend indoors, her nose buried in a book.
    She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled out a photo of her and her mom when she was about five years old. She had her hand in her mother's, and it was