Caroline opened her mouth to answer, but thought twice.
“Are you happy with me?” he asked, suddenly vulnerable.
She supposed.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he decided, his hazel eyes warming in relief, voice dropping, “because I do like sleeping with you, and it isn’t just basic animal attraction. I like touching you in the middle of the night—just touching—and if you didn’t like it, you’d move away, but you don’t. There are times when I’m awake watching you, and in your sleep you scootch closer, like you want to make sure I’m there. Know how that makes me feel? Like a million bucks! So I don’t care if the world knows we’re together, and that starts with your daughter. She’s not going to think less of you for it, unless you’re with me for some other reason that I can’t figure out, when deep down inside you’re really miserable.”
“You know I’m not,” Caroline grumbled.
He brushed her cheek with a gentle fist. “So what’s really bothering you? It isn’t just that Jamie got married without asking permission. You’re not that small a person.”
His gentleness did it, stripped away her fight. She was horrified when her eyes filled with tears, but she couldn’t will them away. “I feel like I’ve lost her.”
“Because of her tie to Chip or your behavior just now?”
Wrapping her arms around herself, she confessed a soft “Both. You said it. She made her own life. I’m not part of it.”
“Of course you are.”
“She doesn’t need me. Certainly not like she used to. So where does that leave me? If I’m not a mother, who am I?” Who am I? How many times she had wondered that in the last few weeks. After years of stasis, so much had changed.
He grasped her elbows. “You’re her mother, her friend, her confidante. You’ll always be those things.”
“Her confidante? Like she confided in me this weekend?”
“Oh, Caro,” he breathed and, drawing her in, wrapped his arms around her, “you’re confusing confidante with consultant. She didn’t consult with you beforehand, but she confided in you as soon after as she could.”
With his chin on the top of her head, her face fit his neck just under the stubble that was his salt-and-pepper not-quite-scruff, not-quite-beard. His skin was warm and his pulse strong, and though he didn’t speak, she felt a dense emotional support. Having always been her own best backup, she had never leaned on anyone quite this way.
Daring to let down her guard, she said a self-conscious “So maybe it is about control. But it’s hard, Dean, hard letting go.”
“Is that why you won’t wear my ring? Afraid of sharing something with someone? Of losing a little of that autonomy?”
She considered that, trying to figure out if it was true and, if so, where it came from. “I’ve just been the one in charge for so long. My parents were Poughkeepsie-centric, so I was on my own once I left, and Roy—well, Roy opted out soon after Jamie was born. When he was around, he ruled, but the rest of the time I was on my own. Jamie was mine. But I swear I didn’t push her. The whole tennis thing came from her. I was just her manager.”
“And cheerleader.”
“Of course. What kind of mother would I be if I wasn’t? But I tried to give her space, honestly I did, especially when she was at RISD, and still I was the one she came home to. So now she’s going home to a husband, and the powers that be say I’m too old to host Gut It!”
“The powers that be don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground,” Dean said with such fervor that she had to believe it. “You’re not too old. Jamie’s too young to do what you do with the show, but she’s better suited than we are to chase little kids around 24/7. Would you want to be in her shoes, starting out raising a family?”
Caroline thought about tired muscles and wrist tendonitis. She thought about quiet time with her computer each morning, minimal cleanup after breakfast, pedicures with Annie, and quality time with her cats. She thought about what she was doing this very instant, arms around Dean, deep breathing, quiet comfort, no interruptions.
Would she want to be starting out raising a family? “No way.”
He chuckled. “Me neither. I kind of like being near the top of the MacAfee Homes food chain. You’re higher’n me, and you’ll go even higher if Theo has his way.”
“Oh, Dean, I’m not sure…”
“If you want to run the company? You keep saying that, but it isn’t so much filling Roy’s shoes as paving your own way. What you did with the Globe was great. Jamie couldn’t have done that—no offense, sweetheart, but she doesn’t have the experience or the gravitas. She will someday, but not yet. And what you’re doing with the Weymouth acreage? Look how you’ve approached that.”
“It’s only one meeting.” Later that morning with Herschel Oakes in his Boston office, and she was not looking forward to it. She was actually surprised he had agreed to meet—surprised he had even returned her call on a Sunday afternoon. If he thought she wanted to try them again as a couple, he had another think coming. She was perfectly happy where she was.
Dean’s throat moved, sound vibrating past his Adam’s apple. “I’m talking about the way you’ve taken the lead.”
She sighed. “There’s no one else to do it.”
“I’m talking about you, Caro. You know what you’re doing.”
“I’m flying by the seat of my pants.”
“You have good instincts. You make decisions. You act.”
Letting the argument go, Caroline was quiet for a time, listening to the dove in the maple, to the patter of kitty paws overhead and Champ nosing at the front screen, wanting in. Superimposed on it was the steady beat of Dean Brannick’s heart, not a bad moment at all, when removed from the rest of her life.
She tipped her head back so that she could see his eyes. “I made a mess of things with Jamie again, didn’t I.”
Wisely, he didn’t respond.
“Only it’s worse this time,” she added, “because it isn’t just Jamie, it’s Charlie Kobik, who is now her husband, and the two little boys who will be calling her Mommy before long.” She took a deep, resigned breath. “One bad thing about age? Hard to accept change.”
“One good thing about age?” Dean, her hero, pointed out. “Realizing you need to do it.”
* * *
“Well, that went well,” Chip remarked.
“It was a disaster,” Jamie cried, only then shifting her eyes from the windshield and catching the grim look on his face. The fact that he agreed with her was small consolation for how upset she was.
“Consider it a dress rehearsal,” he warned. Indeed, now that the hour was more reasonable, they were heading home to Skype with Donald and Helene Kobik before Chip dropped off the boys and headed for school. “My parents won’t be much better, and there are two of them.”
* * *
Chip’s parents actually were better precisely because there were two of them. Don calmed Helene when she got caught up in many of the same arguments Caroline had. Jamie couldn’t help but think, slightly hysterically, that the two moms would get along just fine if they could get past the suspicion that their son or daughter had been bewitched by the other’s daughter or son.
Presenting a united front beside Chip during the video call, Jamie tried to look as unbewitching as possible. She tried to look as together as possible, when her insides were a tangle of nerves. She tried to reassure Helene as Chip had done with Caroline, and while there was no Dean to compound the argument, the call ended only marginally better.
“Should we have waited?” Jamie asked the instant the live feed ended.
Still bent over his laptop, Chip looked back at her. “Do you think so?”
“I asked you first.”
He straightened. “My answer is no. What’s yours?”
“No,” she said, relieved that they agreed here, too, especially considering the big deal her mother had made over needing time to know a person. She hated that Caroline had planted even the tinie
st seed of doubt. “I like your parents, Chip.”
“You do not,” he muttered and pushed a hand through his hair. “Hell, you’d think I was twelve.”
“You’re the baby of the family. Your parents worry.”
“They had cause once,” he said, seeming momentarily lost in that old regret. His eyes held sincerity when they focused on Jamie again. “They really are good people. They’ll love you once they get to know you.”
“So will my mom once she gets to know you, but I’m sorry about earlier, Chip. She came across as a bitch.”
He arched a brow at her leg, to which Tad was clinging. Whispering, “Ooops. Gotta work on that,” she knelt to give her baby a hug. His warm little body was reassuring. Funny, given how recently he had become hers, but he was now a constant in her life. She was still trying to decipher his reactions and moods, but even his little tantrums were easier to deal with than, say, Caroline’s right now.
Putting her chin on the top of Tad’s head, she looked up at Chip. “She isn’t usually so rigid. If she was talking about anyone else, she would have been more forgiving. I’m her daughter, so the rules are different. I get that. Still, given our ages, you’d think she’d be less uptight.”
“Same with my mom. At what point do they ease up?” he asked rhetorically, then called into the other room, “Buddy, use the potty before we leave!” Back at Jamie, he said, “At least the men kept the moms sane.”
Jamie frowned. “The men.”
“My dad and Dean.” He paused. “What?”
“(A) that remark borders on stereotypical, and (B) Dean didn’t quite keep my mother sane.” When Tad squirmed for freedom, she kissed his head and let him run off. More pensive, she said, “Dean and Mom—why didn’t I see that coming?”
“Maybe because they’ve known each other so long. Do we like him?”
“Yes, we like him, but why in the world she needed to keep it a secret is anyone’s guess.” She considered, then added a meek “It is a little weird, though.”
“Imagining your mother with Dean?”
She stood, sighed. “Imagining my mother with anyone.”
Sputtering a laugh, he slid an arm around her waist. “I can’t begin to go there with my folks. As far as I’m concerned, they’ve had sex three times. Period.”
Thinking that he knew so well how to handle her, she locked her hands at the small of his back. “They have a right to do it.”
He snickered. “You think?”
She did, which was why she wasn’t truly upset thinking of her mother and Dean together. It actually made her feel better to know Caroline wasn’t alone, since now she herself had Chip. She had never felt that way about Brad, probably because he had never fully occupied her the way Chip did. Even now, with so much urgency on her mind, he took her away, if for only a minute or two.
“Anything beats thinking about telling Theo, but I do need to do that, seeing as he’s my first stop. Not that I have time for this right now.” Chip had already offered to drop off the boys, so that she could see Theo and then go on to the office. Presentations were crucial. If she had a prayer of having something done by tomorrow, she needed every possible minute.
Chip drew her to him, his eyes the riveting blue that never failed to send a little thrill through her. “Are you sure I can’t go with you?”
“I’m sure. Mom was right. I need to do this myself.” The thought of it tied her in knots all over again. She would love to have her husband with her as backup. But her grandfather could be unfiltered when it came to pithy remarks. She didn’t want Chip hearing that.
* * *
Knowing where Theo would be and that he would be softer there, she drove to his house. Though the Tudor structure was totally old-world, with its half-timbers and stucco over a fieldstone skirt, its second-floor gables, its grand portico and broad stone steps, the house had always called to Jamie. She had never once dreamed of redoing it, though many of her recent designs involved updates on the Tudor style. Theo’s house was Theo’s house.
More to the point, Theo’s house was Jamie’s grandmother’s house. Though Patricia was long dead, her generous spirit lived in the antique furnishings and exquisite art she had personally bought. These things evoked her memory at every turn, but nowhere was that more true than on the back patio.
That was where Jamie headed. Circling around, she walked over well-mown grass, passing beds of heirloom flowers in staggered states of bloom, a stone chimney, and shrubs of varied greens. The patio was soapstone. Patricia had herself set the stones, which were a richly veined gray and held enough of a pattern to delineate three large vaguely circular shapes, one each for lounging, grilling, and eating.
Surrounded by an outer yard of ancient trees in full leaf, the patio itself was lush. Jamie vividly recalled Patricia on her hands and knees, weeding the gardens that bordered the stone. A subservient woman doing her husband’s bidding? Only the ignorant would think that. Patricia was strong and quiet. She was also insistent when she believed in a cause, whether that cause was building a pergola, which was right now covered with lilacs, or raising money for the church. Though she had never been directly involved in the operation of MacAfee Homes, she took joy in the house her husband had built her. That joy shimmered over the gardens even now.
By contrast, Jamie’s first glimpse of Theo so alone squeezed her heart. Wearing suit pants and a shirt, he would add a tie and jacket before heading to the office. For now, his neck was open, sleeves rolled to expose forearms whose skin was marbled and loose. A creature of habit, he was drinking orange juice, eating the last of the scrambled eggs and toast that his housekeeper had made, and reading the newspaper.
He didn’t see her until she slipped into the chair closest to him, at which point he looked up with a start, then came alive. Gleeful, he slapped the paper.
“See this?”
Jamie had seen two things that morning. First, she had seen Chip, the boys, and the beautiful wedding ring that she kept looking at in amazement but that Theo hadn’t noticed. The ring was stunning and held a world of meaning for her, but the subtlety of it would camouflage its meaning. Second and haunting now, she had seen Caroline’s disappointment.
“What’s there?” she asked.
“Your mother’s interview. She did a damn good job, damn good job. She keeps saying no to it, but she’s a fine spokeswoman for the company. You need to tell her that, too.” He pushed the paper aside. “So, little girl, if you aren’t here to talk about the Globe piece, why’d you come?”
Jamie tried to still her nerves. “I have news, Granddad,” she said. Spotting the housekeeper approaching to offer food, she shook her head. The instant they were alone again, she faced Theo. She hated doing this to him when his spirits were high. She hadn’t seen him animated since Roy’s death. But her news wouldn’t wait.
His creased face grew progressively drawn as she told him about her broken engagement, about Brad’s plans to leave the company, and finally about Chip. By the time she finished, he was frowning, his blue eyes confused. Seeming older, he turned away for a moist cough, then shifted gingerly on the cushions of the iron chair to face her.
“Brad is leaving?”
“Yes. He misses his hometown.”
“I thought Williston had become his hometown.”
“Apparently not.”
“What about loving you?”
“I’m afraid we were both wrong about that. I’m sorry, Granddad. I know the last thing you need right now is having to hire a new lawyer.”
Theo’s mouth was a pale line. “Bad timing, so soon after…” Roy’s death.
“Yes,” she said and waited. Brad had only been half of the news she had delivered. She had no clue what Theo was thinking about the other half. Giving him time to process it all, she remained quiet.
Finally, screwing up his face, he asked, “The washed-up hockey player?”
“But he’s not washed up,” she rushed out with a promising smile and sat straighter
. Earlier, with Caroline, she had felt like the little girl Theo always called her. Now conviction gave her new force. “He teaches here in town and runs a successful hockey camp for kids each summer. He has a three-year-old son he’s raising himself, lives in the house he grew up in—”
“Living back home?” Theo broke in. His implication was clear, made all the more so by the disdainful tone of his gravelly voice.
“Actually,” she countered, “he bought his parents two homes to retire in. He has plenty of money.”
Theo gave a guttural grunt. “He made a mess of his life.”
“He knows that. Trust me, he does. He hit rock bottom but pulled himself up. He’s gainfully employed, has a family behind him and a son needing him, and his instincts are good.” She hurried on, unable to resist the argument. “We all liked Brad. But Brad didn’t want a child, couldn’t even open his heart to an orphaned one, who happened to be your namesake grandson. So we can intellectualize his merits all we want, Granddad, but on the things that matter most, he fails.”
Theo continued to scowl. “You could’ve raised Tad yourself.”
“I could have. And I would have. I had a good example of single parenthood in Mom.” It was a slam against Roy, but it was the truth. Theo didn’t deny it with so much as a raised brow. “Believe me, I was in no rush to get married, certainly not on the heels of breaking up with Brad. Tad is not the reason I married Chip.”
From inside the house came a distant phone.
Theo seemed not to hear it. His eyes didn’t waver. “What is?”
“I love him.”
“That quick?”
“That quick,” she replied, driven by determination, even a smidgeon of anger. If the ringing phone meant Caroline wanted to share her feelings about Jamie’s marriage, grit was needed. “Call my behavior impulsive, Granddad. Lord knows, Mom did. But when it comes to Brad, at least, he was happy to let me go and take a job halfway across the country—a job, PS, that he’d apparently been considering for a while.”
Guilt stopped her. She hadn’t meant to sound resentful. “I’m sorry. That was unnecessary. Brad served MacAfee Homes well. But he has an assistant who can cover until we hire someone else, and in the long run, the company will be stronger for it. As for Chip, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. He and I think alike. We’ve both done the superstar thing and understand about passion and focus. Right now, his focus is on his son, and on me and Tad. That said, I understand your caution. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.”
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