A Touch of Passion (boxed set romance bundle)

by Uvi Poznansky

  Around noon, they heard water running, but he still hadn’t come out. Heartbroken, the effort it had taken for the last week to hide his grief, to stay strong, to go through the motions of doing something he was loath to do finally became too much. He knew that if the girls needed him, they’d come to his bedroom door.

  He stayed in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin. Moving over to Harley’s side, he spent the rest of the day there, looking out the window, wondering how the sun could be so cheery, the sky blue, leaf buds unfurling into leaves almost by the minute, when his heart was broken.

  Finally, at sundown, he came out of the room he once shared with Harley. “Sorry, girls,” he said.

  “That’s okay, Daddy,” Devon said. “We knew you needed to be alone.”

  “Did you eat?” he asked.

  “We had leftovers. I had pizza and Mom’s macaroni salad.”

  Jason groaned with delight. “Yum! That’s what I’ll have,” he said.

  No one mentioned Harley again that weekend. Jason stayed in bed until Sunday night, only coming out to make sure Devon had everything she needed for school Monday.

  “Do I have to go back?” she asked. “I’d rather stay here with you.”

  “Oh, yes,” Jason said. “Miss Clark asked about you and said she hoped you’d be back on Monday. They need you at school.”

  “Who will see me off?” she asked, looking worried.

  “Why, I will,” he said. “But on Tuesday I have to go back to work so Granny Fran will be here like she’s always been.”

  “Daddy, I’ll be home in the morning too,” Bennie said. “I don’t have to be at work until ten.”

  “Tina, do you need anything from me?”

  “No Daddy,” Tina said. “I’m all set.”

  Jason knew Harley pampered Tina, and he wanted do the same. Keeping things calm and peaceful was key and he hoped Tina would ask if he wasn’t doing the job.

  “Make sure you let me know if you need something, Tina,” he said. “I can’t read your mind.”

  “Daddy, no one can read another person’s mind!” Devon shouted, giggling.

  “Mommy could,” Jason said. “You girls should tell me if I’m missing something important.”

  “We will,” Tina said. “You do the same, Dad. If you need us to do more, just say the word.”

  Wishing Harley could hear the conversation, it certainly would have put her mind at ease. “Mommy would be so proud of you girls. She was so worried we’d all fall apart.”

  “If I don’t pass this midterm, I will fall apart,” Bennie said. “I should’ve taken this semester off.”

  Jason squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll be glad when it’s finished that you got it out of the way,” he said. “Hang in there.”

  “Mom would have offered me a cup of coffee,” Bennie said. Angie put her head on the table and tried to stifle her laughter.

  “Okay, I guess I can do that, too,” Jason said. “Isn’t it kind of late for coffee?”

  “She’d make decaf,” Angie said, straightening up. “Oh, that felt so good. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

  “It sounded like you were having a cow,” Devon said, repeating a phrase they utilized.

  The girls laughed at Devon’s observation while Jason made a pot of decaffeinated coffee and the others brought out cookies Fran had made. It would become a nightly ritual, a before bedtime snack and comforting, often humorous conversation between Jason and his girls.

  Chapter 29

  Thanksgiving

  No pie smells permeated the house in the morning. The decision to bypass pie making until they got to the shore was made unanimously, the hustle and bustle of the week leading up to Thursday didn’t leave even an hour to fill a frozen pie crust with a can of filling.

  “Mom would agree,” Angie said, loading pie making supplies into plastic grocery sacks.

  “Yes,” Bennie said. “Attending Devon’s adorable play was definitely more important.”

  “I wanted to be a pilgrim,” Devon said, trying not to pout. “But being an Indian was okay.”

  “I was shocked they allowed it,” Tina whispered to Angie. “It’s politically incorrect.”

  “I think the politically correct term is Native American,” Angie explained to Devon.

  The sisters conferred, huddling around Bennie as she studied Harley’s list once more. “I think we have everything.”

  “Which list of Mom’s is that?” Jason asked, stopping to pour another cup of coffee.

  “The holiday list. She has one marked fall, but it doesn’t have pie ingredients.”

  The family laughed, agreeing they’d become addicted to the lists, including one of supplies necessary to take to the shore which Harley had made, sending it to each of them in a PDF file. Headings included Halloween at the Shore, Easter in Rehoboth, Granny Fran’s Birthday in Sea Isle City.

  “Gee, that was decent of her,” Tiffany said, yawning as she walked into the kitchen, the older girls looking at her curiously, wondering if she was being sarcastic.

  “I could hear someone snoring all the way in my room,” Jason said, quickly trying to divert attention from her remark, while sidestepping Tiffany as she moved in to hug him.

  “Well, it wasn’t me,” she answered, stopping in her tracks. “I’m just glad I don’t have to drive here from Philadelphia this morning. Thanks for allowing me to spend the night. I know what an inconvenience it must have been.”

  The girls scattered, aware Tiffany’s words were loaded. Bennie had overheard Jason’s side of the conversation on the phone the night before, reluctantly allowing Tiffany to spend the night. Sharing it with her sisters later, they agreed it sounded like Jason was trying to please everyone.

  “It is just inappropriate,” he’d said. “I don’t get it that you’re making such a big deal.”

  A pause in his side of the chat, she assumed Tiffany was arguing and the next thing he said cinched it. “I guess you can stay with the girls or on the couch if you don’t want to drive down tomorrow morning. You’re acting like it’ll take all day.”

  The truth was she lived forty-five minutes away on the other side of Philadelphia, so it made sense to spend the night since she’d wrangled an invitation to the shore for Thanksgiving. Jason’s reluctance to share his free time with her had the odd effect of making his daughters uncomfortable enough to defend Tiffany, in spite of her childishness.

  “Why doesn’t he just stop seeing her if he’s so hell bent on not having her come around us?” Bennie said.

  “I feel sorry for Tiffany,” Tina replied. “It’s obvious she’s in love with Dad.”

  “He feels guilty about Mom,” Angie said. “You could see how uncomfortable Granny Fran was around her last time she came to the shore.”

  “Did you see him hop away from her this morning? Jeesh! She need to give up.”

  After Labor Day, Jason, worn down by Tiffany’s persistence and beginning to weaken due to loneliness, gave in to Tiffany’s demands for a role in his life. “You’ve got to start somewhere,” she argued. “Bringing me around the family avoids you having to take me out in public.”

  “Ha! Is that what you think is holding me back?” he asked. “Tiffany, you’re clueless. But if you want to come around my family I guess it can’t hurt anything.”

  “You act like they’ll fall apart if you move on,” she said, irritated.

  “Tiffany, Harley just died nine months ago,” he said. “Why do I have to keep reminding you? No one’s ready to see me with another woman.” Least of all myself, he thought.

  “I think you underestimate your family,” she said.

  And she was right. Everyone was cordial if not indifferent when she was around, even Jason’s littlest daughter. They ignored her for the most part, for which she was grateful, having little to say to teens and tweens. Tiffany avoided Jason’s former mother-in-law and Harley’s sisters. She mistook their sadness and indifference for rudeness, but she didn�
��t say anything to him because it would have supported his point.

  Nothing was happening in the intimacy department, either, Jason quickly rebuffing any advances she made. He held her hand, but that was it. She’d gotten more hugs from him when he was married than he would allow now and she was mystified.

  “Don’t complain,” her friend Jaclyn advised. “He’s obviously not over his wife yet. It’s enough that he’s bringing you around.”

  On the trip to Sea Isle, Bennie reluctantly gave up the front seat to Tiffany. “I guess I’ll sit in back, Dad,” she said.

  Jason looked from Bennie to Tiffany and back to Bennie again, frowning. “Oh. Okay thanks, honey.”

  Chattering non-stop during the trip, by the time he pulled up to his family’s cottage, Jason’s nerves were fried. Lining up to help unload the car, the girls were stony silent. Tiffany moved ahead of them and reached for her bags. After she’d removed her belongings, Jason spoke up.

  “We have a tried and true method for unloading. Watch precision at work!”

  Each girl took her assigned bags out of the back of the car. Next, Joe and Fran came out to greet them. “We’re here for the food!” Joe bellowed, looking at Tiffany curiously. He had to hand it to his son; exposing his mother and daughters to a girl as young as Tiffany took balls.

  “Pie making ingredients,” Bennie said, handing over grocery bags full of flour, sugar and fresh fruit. “Do we have enough time for baking before dinner?”

  “Loads of time,” Fran said, nodding to Tiffany. “We’re ready to bake. Hello Tiffany, nice to see you again.”

  “Thank you for having me,” she said. “I don’t bake so this will be fun.”

  “You’ll learn a lot today, trust me,” Fran said. To Jason and the girls, she whispered, excited, “Your Aunt Bea’s here.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad,” Tina said, turning to the cottage.

  Tiffany had eventually heard the story of Dave and Bea, hoping they’d stay apart. It would make her life with Jason so much easier not to be the odd woman out, avoiding having Harley’s best friend at every family function. Seeing them together in the cottage, she had to force a smile on her face, even as Bea ignored her, barely able to be civil.

  Organized chaos ensured for the next hours as an assembly line of sorts sprouted up with piecrust rolling and filling mixing taking place. When time was up, six pies, one of every variety lined up for their turn in the oven. Only pumpkin was duplicated. “One recipe is Mom’s recipe and one is a new one from the internet,” Angie said.

  “Why would you try to duplicate perfection?” Bea asked, echoing everyone’s shocked concern about replacing Harley’s famous pie.

  “What? It was her idea.”

  Relief and laughter buzzed over the crowd. “I miss Harley right now. She was always in charge of pies,” Bea said.

  Fran noticed Tiffany putting her hands up in defeat, stepping away from the pie collection, grimacing. Maybe making pie wasn’t such a great idea, Tiffany thought, mimicking similar responses over the next hours if anyone dared to mention Harley’s name in her presence, attitude casting a pall over dinner.

  Later that night, Fran would say having Tiffany’s nastiness there was good. “We couldn’t get melancholy or sad because we had that twit sitting where Harley usually sits,” she whispered to Joe in bed.

  “It’s the first time they didn’t stay for the long weekend,” Joe replied, sad. Everyone seemed shocked when Jason and the girls said they were leaving, especially Tiffany.

  “There’s a new sheriff in town,” Fran said. “I’m not sure for how long.”

  “You don’t know that,” Joe said. “Jason might ask her to get married for all you know.”

  “He won’t marry her. In the first place, she’s jealous of his kids. Jason will never put another woman in front of his daughters.”

  Joe wasn’t so sure that was true. But rather than make Fran angry by suggesting that Tiffany’s tight little body, flaunted for all to see in her skin-tight blue jeans and sweater might be enough motivation for marriage, he wisely let it go.

  “My son, David acted like a love starved teen boy today,” Fran said, disgusted.

  “Why did Bea come? I mean I’m happy she did but what does it mean? Did they get back together or what?”

  “Who knows? I think Jason told him Tiffany was coming and Dave didn’t want to be alone. You noticed he’s sleeping in the recliner, right?”

  “I don’t notice nothin’,” Joe said, reaching for her. “Come here. I’m sick of talking about our sons. They’re grown men. If they want to mess up there lives, let ‘em.”

  Cuddling next to her husband, Fran sighed. “Jason didn’t have anything to do with his problems,” she said defensively. “His life got messed up for him.”

  Joe held on to Fran, grateful he didn’t have to worry about her dying when their boys were teenagers. “Poor Jason,” he said. “I’ll try to step it up helping over there.”

  “You’re doing fine,” she said, patting his cheek. “No one could ask for a better father.”

  Heavy traffic on the Garden State Parkway delayed Jason’s arrival home by half an hour. A nervous wreck, he watched the clock, determined Tiffany was going to get into her car and be on the road before ten.

  “Home sweet home,” Angie called out when they turned into the driveway, the others agreeing.

  “Let yourself into the house,” Jason called out, throwing the keys to Bennie. “I’ll help Tiffany load her car.”

  Keeping his eyes averted, he knew she was throwing daggers at him with her looks, but he avoided an argument by staying busy gathering her bags.

  “I thought we were spending the weekend at the shore,” she said. “Talk about getting the bum’s rush.”

  “No one gave you the bum’s rush, Tiffany. I just changed my mind,” Jason replied honestly. “There was too much going on.” He avoiding chastising her for what was deplorable behavior, from pouting when anyone mentioned Harley’s name, to rushing out of the room in tears when Jason left to help his father with a chore.

  Pressing the unlock button on her key fob, the trunk lid rose and when it hid them from view, she finished saying her piece. “You are giving me the bum’s rush,” she said, arguing. “Now I have to drive through town in the dark.”

  “Tiffany, give me a break,” Jason said. “You drive at night all the time. I hear the women at work talking about the hours you keep at the bars. I think you’ll be safe on Thanksgiving night if you head straight home.”

  “I thought I’d stay the night again and we could do something tomorrow,” she said, refusing to give up.

  “I spend the Friday after Thanksgiving with my girls,” he said.

  “Well, maybe you could integrate me into the fun,” she suggested, forcing a smile.

  “We’re really not ready,” he said, trying to be kind. “This is our first Thanksgiving without their mother.” He didn’t say bringing you along today was against my better judgement but I did it for peace.

  “I know that,” she said, sick of hearing about the firsts. “They seemed fine.”

  “Probably having a stranger there kept everyone from dwelling on Harley,” he said.

  “Ugh, that hurt. A stranger? Jeesh Jason, you really know how to hurt a girl.”

  “Well, to the folks you are a stranger.”

  “Stop keeping me away then,” she said, her voice getting louder against her will. “Take a stand.”

  Jason realized he didn’t want to take a stand, at least where his family was concerned. As gently as he could, he took her aside, leaning against the car. “Tiffany, we need to talk.”

  “Oh no, not the we need to talk maneuver. Give me a break.” Slumping against the car, Tiffany pouted, but didn’t give in to the fury she felt.

  “This isn’t going to work,” he said softly, worried she’d make a scene in his driveway. “I’m not ready. My family’s not ready. No one is ready.”

  “Well then what is this all about?
” she asked standing up straight again, her finger switching between them both. “Ever since Harley got sick, it’s been you and me. I heard through the grapevine she was jealous of me.”

  Tiffany dropping Harley’s name infuriated Jason but he managed to keep his cool outside of a twitch in his jaw. “Please don’t bring her name up. We’re not arguing about Harley. As a matter of fact, we’re not arguing. There’s nothing between us but what I thought was a friendship. Maybe I was wrong. For you to start talking about her…”

  Stopping before it got out of hand, he was finished. “Tiffany, go home. We’ll see each other at work, but this is over.”

  Glaring at him, she debated slapping his face, but decided theatrics was a bit much even for her. “Fine,” she said. “Thanks for the worst Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.”

  Whatever, he thought, biting his tongue. He checked his watch while watching her car roll down his driveway. It was ten on the nose. If they moved fast, they could get back to Sea Isle by midnight.

  Chapter 30

  Friday morning, Fran and Joe discovered Jason and his family, spread out over the living room, the girls sleeping but Jason just waking up. “Why didn’t you go right back to your rooms?” Joe asked, pulling afghans over his granddaughters.

  “We didn’t want to make the noise,” Jason said, getting up from the recliner, his arms over his head, stretching.

  “Why didn’t you wait for the morning to come back?” Fran asked, following him into the kitchen.

  “We missed being here,” Jason said. “After Tiffany left, I asked if they were up for the drive and everyone said yes. So here we are. I never really intended on staying home. My motto from now on is don’t rock the boat, don’t change the routine, status quo is best.”

  Fran and Joe high-fived, chuckling. “Pop and I were worried.”

  “No worries, Mom. I’m not going to run off and marry Tiffany, okay? I would always include you in my plans.”