The Ready-Made Family (Silhouette Special Edition)

by Laurie Paige

“No, we can’t,” agreed another. He had the well-fed appearance that goes with being a bank president.

  For two hours, they argued each idea brought up. When they started debating whose fault it was that the center was in dire straits, Isa decided it was time to intervene.

  “I have a suggestion,” she offered.

  Five pairs of eyes focused on her, each pair reflecting the hope of instant reprieve.

  “Let’s close for the summer. That would cut down on expenses enormously, since we wouldn’t have to use the air-conditioning. In late fall, when the weather cools, we could start a new program. The amateur the- ater group draws the biggest crowds in the winter, so it makes sense.”

  “What about the loan from this year? The bank is pressing for more than just interest payments.”

  “There’s a trust fund. If we use it—”

  “But that’s our building fund,” the woman protested. “This place needs renovating.”

  “If we don’t have a building, we won’t need a build- ing fund,” the bank president commented dryly.

  “There’s enough to pay off the mortgage and the current loan,” Isa told them. “Once those are paid off, we can start an improvement project and raise new funds. Our admission rates for the plays are low. We could raise them by five dollars.”

  “People won’t show up. They’re used to cheap en- tertainment at the casinos.”

  Isa nodded. “We’ll have to plan a promotion cam- paign to make the plays attractive to visitors. I think we should try convincing some of the stars from the casino shows to do cameo appearances as a public service to help finance our youth programs. It would be fun for them and gain publicity for us.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hall.

  Isa paused to see who was there. Since it was Wednesday, there was no play scheduled that night and rehearsals for a new production hadn’t started due to a lack of funds. They couldn’t afford the electric bill.

  Harrison appeared at the door. “My wife is a great planner. Her plans often come to fruition, I’ve found.” He leaned his shoulder against the door frame, his hands in his pockets, and smiled all around at the little group.

  “Wife?” the one woman on the board questioned.

  “Didn’t she mention it?” Harrison asked with charming innocence. “I’m crushed. We’ve been mar- ried almost six weeks, six wonderful weeks,” he added with a smoldering glance at her.

  Heat rushed into her face as the directors peered at her with varying expressions of surprise.

  “Congratulations,” the banker said, springing to his feet to shake Harrison’s hand. The other three men did the same.

  “I don’t believe I saw an announcement in the pa- per.” The woman eyed them as if she thought they were lying for some nefarious reason.

  Harrison snapped his fingers. “Damn, I forgot about that. Darling,” he said in a sweet reprimand to Isa, “you should have reminded me.”

  “I didn’t consider it necessary.”

  He came to her and looped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. “All brides want their new marital status known, don’t they? It sort of says, ‘look, I won.”’

  The hard edge in his voice caused the others to glance at them in puzzlement. Isa smiled with forced calm.

  “And so I did.” She held up her left hand and dis- played the simple gold band as if it were the Hope di- amond.

  Her husband brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. All the while, his eyes issued a challenge that only she could detect.

  She saw the pattern of the coming months. Harrison would taunt her about their blissful marriage in front of others, so subtly they’d never catch on. In private, he would ignore her as he had for the past month. That night in his arms might never have been. He seemed to resent their marriage more now than he had the day of the wedding.

  “Let’s see what we can do about your problems here.” He took Isa’s copy of the report and settled in her chair.

  She stood there in growing exasperation.

  He patted his knee and gave her a roguish grin.

  “Huh,” she snorted and pulled up another chair. She looked over his shoulder as he read her neat rows of figures, the lists of assets and liabilities, the net worth and balance sheets.

  “Very impressive,” he said when he finished. “I didn’t realize I’d married a female financial wizard.”

  “I have a degree in business management.”

  “Ah, yes, college. Where you were engaged.”

  She couldn’t decipher the dark look he turned on her. “For a brief summer. That’s about as long as a man’s promises last.”

  “But a woman’s last for a year?” he inquired in his Ivy League drawl.

  The five directors stopped reading the reports and watched them with avid curiosity.

  Isa felt the telltale heat slide into her face. She had started the verbal sparring with her remark about men, she admitted, but he didn’t have to remind her of their bargain and, even worse, the words they’d had about it weeks ago.

  A child. I’d like a child.

  There couldn’t be one. Children involved long-range plans. Eighteen years of commitment. They only had a year.

  She still hadn’t figured out why he’d suggested it. To torment her with what might have been and what he’d have someday with his real wife was cruel.

  “I agree with Isa,” he said after a thorough study of her numbers. “You need a stable financial base to work from. I think I can spring for the same amount I’ve been paying on the mortgage for another year. That would provide a basis for the youth program budget if the building was paid for. J.T., you think you and the bank can match that?”

  Harrison had issued a direct challenge, one the banker couldn’t refuse without losing face with his peers gath- ered around the desk. He shrugged in defeat. “I’m sure we can.”

  “Good. Mrs. Barns, you’re involved in your late hus- band’s charity foundation that started the community center. Can you convince the trustees to provide the seed money for a new building fund?”

  Her eyes darted around the group as if looking for someone to pass the buck to. “Well, I suppose,” she finally agreed.

  “Great. James, the attorney association sometimes involves itself in charities. They should be good for a donation and perhaps some legal advice. How about talking to them?”

  The attorney nodded obediently.

  “We can get some of the building trades to donate time and expertise in reconstructing the building, maybe bring in some of the high school kids to help out and make this a real community effort,” Harrison finished. “Has anyone checked about getting the building on the National Register? That would give us all kinds of cred- ibility.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Isa exclaimed, seeing the possibilities broaden.

  “That’s why two heads are sometimes better than one.”

  His eyes sent another message as they skimmed over her. Her breath caught in her throat as she thought of their two bodies entwined in the pool.

  “Yes,” she admitted, “for some things, two are bet- ter.” For establishing a home. For raising a family.

  He nodded, then he concentrated on questions from the directors as they explored the ideas he’d tossed out.

  Isa kept the minutes of the meeting while Harrison directed the discussion. During her time there, they’d tried to heap all the responsibility on her. Harrison had neatly turned the tables on them. Each director went home with a task to perform before the next business meeting.

  “What?” he asked when they left.

  She continued her study of him. “You know very well.”

  He pushed his chair back so he could stretch his long legs straight out and crossed them at the ankles. With his thumbs thrust into his pockets and a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth, he exuded triumph.

  “Did I do good?” he demanded.

  “You know you did.” She looked down at her en- twined hands
. “Thank you. I could never have handled them half so well.”

  There followed a beat of silence.

  When she glanced at him, it was to see a somber expression on his face, not the self-satisfied grin she’d expected. His gaze roamed over her in a moody perusal. He paused when he met her eyes. “It was nothing.”

  His voice reached right down inside her and started the tiny sun to blazing. Its warmth spread through her, warming her in places she hadn’t realized were cold.

  “Shall we go home?” he asked. “Are you through here?”

  “Yes.” She checked her watch. “It’s after ten. Rick will be wondering about us. I told him I’d be ready to go at eight.”

  “How did he get home?”

  “I sent him in a taxi. Thank you for stopping by.” She stored the reports in the file cabinet, locked it and her desk, then picked up her purse. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  She followed Harrison on the drive to the house. When they were parked in the garage, he asked, “Why aren’t you using the other car?”

  “I’m afraid to,” she confessed lightly. “It’s too ex- pensive. If I had an accident, I couldn’t pay you back for a long time…a very long time.”

  He snorted impatiently. “I have insurance,” he re- minded her. “As my wife, you’re covered. In fact, you and your brother are on my health and accident insur- ance now.”

  “I didn’t intend…it isn’t necessary…”

  “Of course it’s necessary. You’re my wife. Rick is part of our family. I changed to a policy that took in all of us.”

  She didn’t know what to say. It made her feel funny, as if she and Rick really belonged, as if the three of them had formed a real family. “Thank you.”

  He gave an impatient snort as he unlocked the door, but he didn’t say anything more. They went into the dark, silent house.

  “Rick doesn’t seem to be home yet,” she said. All the usual worries surged into her mind. He could be hurt, dead, lying on the side of some road, run over by a speeding driver—

  “Isn’t tomorrow a school day? It isn’t some kind of holiday, is it?” Harrison asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “We’re going to have to establish some rules around here on hours and such.” His tone was hard.

  “I’ll talk to him,” she said quickly.

  “Perhaps I’d better.”

  “No, please. I’ll handle it.” She waited while he studied her for a long minute, then he nodded.

  He covered a yawn, stretched, then headed for his room. “I’m off to bed. Care to join me?” he tossed over his shoulder.

  “No, thank you.” She sounded primly formal, as if refusing an invitation to a party of uncertain reputation.

  “Too bad.” He didn’t sound at all as if he meant it.

  She hurried to her room. Later, dressed for bed in her long nightgown, she wondered at the heaviness that clung to her. It wasn’t as if she’d invited her husband’s attentions.

  Was she one of those women who protested because she wanted to be swept off her feet like a pliable reed that could be bent to anyone’s will? Of course not. She had other things to do—like wait up for her errant brother.

  She wondered what she could say to Rick that would make him see the danger in his actions. A feeling of hopelessness washed over her, dampening her usual op- timism.

  Fatigue pulled at her as she went to the study and flicked on the television news. She wondered if Harri- son was doing the same in his room. There was a set in a wall unit across from his bed.

  Longing rushed through her before she could close the door on those thoughts. Her husband had been the most incredible lover, warm and tender, all the things a woman could desire.

  She forced herself to read a magazine so her mind wouldn’t stray to things that would never be. Sometimes it was so hard to go on pretending. Sometimes she was invaded by the most incredible longing….

  Sighing, she stretched out and rested her head on the padded sofa arm. Rick would surely be home soon.

  Isa woke with a start and rose to a sitting position. She listened. She heard a noise as someone entered the house.

  “Rick?” she called. “I’m in the study.”

  He appeared at the door a moment later, hands thrust into his pockets, his posture defensive. “Yeah?”

  “It’s after midnight,” she said accusingly, unable to stem the note of anger.

  He shrugged.

  “Where were you?”

  “Out.”

  “Alone?”

  “With a couple of guys.”

  “From school?”

  He shrugged again.

  She persisted. “Were they classmates?”

  “One of them was.”

  “And the other?”

  “Just a guy I met.”

  She summoned all the patience she could muster. “Where did you and your friends hang out until mid- night?”

  “We were at one of the casinos.”

  “You’re too young,” she began, then realized he stood as tall as she did and could easily pass for twenty- one.

  “I didn’t play or anything. I just watched.”

  “You shouldn’t have been there.” she said slowly, searching for words. She laid a hand on his arm. “You had other things to do. Like be here at home when I arrived. I was worried.”

  Rick couldn’t meet his sister’s eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He wanted to tell her Moe, who he’d thought was his friend, was in town and threatening him, telling Rick how he’d get him in trouble, what he’d do to her and Harrison if Rick didn’t go along with his orders.

  Moe was planning on robbing a bunch of stores. He wanted Rick to recruit a gang to do it. Rick wanted out. He didn’t want his family to get hurt or his friends to get in trouble.

  Once more he wanted to throw himself into his sis- ter’s arms and have her make everything all right the way she used to. But he couldn’t. It was his problem. He’d figure out what to do.

  “That isn’t good enough,” Isa told him. “If Mrs. Addleson had dropped in, what would I have told her, that you were hanging around the casinos?”

  “She didn’t, did she?” A sudden vision of having to return to the detention center shook him. Aww, man.

  “No, but that’s beside the point.”

  He summoned the tough-guy stance that got him through hard times. His sister had enough troubles. He couldn’t throw himself at her and cry for help. She’d confront Moe without a thought to her safety. He had to get out of this on his own, but first, he would have to deflect her attention to something else.

  “Why are you worried? You got a good deal here, married to a man with all kinds of money. You don’t have to work at all, but you don’t even act like a wife.”

  Even as she gasped, he knew he’d gone too far and that he’d hurt the only person who’d ever cared about him. He didn’t know what to do. He swallowed as words knotted in his throat. Aw, man, aw, man.

  Isa controlled herself with an effort. “You don’t know anything about it,” she said in a low voice.

  “Well, it’s weird that you two don’t share a room. What kind of marriage is that?”

  “None of your business. We’re not here to discuss my marriage. It’s your behavior that’s the problem. From now on, you will come straight home from school. Maggie will tell me if you don’t,” she warned when he gave one of his defensive shrugs. “You’ll be in your room at nine every night. Lights out by ten.”

  “I’m not a kid—”

  “Then stop acting like one. If you get in trouble, you could be sent to a juvenile center. Is that what you want?”

  “I’m not going to get into trouble. I can take care of myself.” He wouldn’t look at her.

  She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to tell him she’d lost the chance to find any kind of happiness with her husband by forcing him into marriage and saddling him with a family that was nothing but trouble. But when she looked at her brother, she saw a young
person halfway between child and adult, unsure of his place in the scheme of things.

  Sorrow rooted out her anger. His pretended indifference was a shield against an indifferent world, a world he’d learned not to trust. Their father’s word had been as solid as a straw in the wind.

  When she reached out to touch his shoulder in sym- pathy, he shied away as if she had struck at him. The sorrow deepened.

  “We have a good life here,” she told him, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. “You’re smart. You can get a scholarship to college, be anything you want. Don’t throw it away.”

  For a second, he looked as if he might cry, then the boy was gone, replaced by the hard-knocks kid. “Yeah, sure. Is it all right if I go to bed now?”

  “Yes,” she said through a constricted throat.

  She watched him walk away in the loose-boned, ef- fortless way of the natural athlete. He had so much po- tential. There were so many ways it could go wrong.

  After returning to her room, she tried reading to put her mind at rest so she could sleep, but it was impos- sible. She flicked out the light and sat in the dark, her thoughts roaming from her relatively happy child- hood—when her mother had been there to do the wor- rying about the family—to her own adolescence that had been filled with work and worry, to the present when she’d thought things would somehow be wonder- ful for a year.

  What wishful thinking that had been.

  The loneliness of the past nine years washed over her. She’d learned never to cry, but lately she’d felt con- stantly on edge, and sad, so very sad. She didn’t un- derstand herself at all anymore.

  Rising, she laid her book on the table and went to the window. The cover was off the pool and a dark figure stood beside it, the lithe, masculine body cast in silhouette against the underwater pool lights.

  Her heart pounded, echoing in her ears as if it beat in a great empty cavern. Harrison raised one hand in an invitation to join him, but there was no one outside with him.

  She realized he knew she was there, hiding in the dark, watching him….

  Her hands went to the tie on her robe and paused. She pulled in a ragged breath, let it out in a shaky sigh. Without any conscious decision on her part, she moved to the patio door, opened it and stepped out.