Like Father, Like Son

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Like Father, Like Son Page 11

by Karina Bliss


  “You’re trying to protect her, but sometimes kids feel more secure by being included at difficult times.” Pip cupped a handful of soap bubbles and watched them pop, rainbow colors under the ceiling light. “My grandmother lived with us in her last years. It taught me that illness and death are a part of life, and being family means supporting each other through good times and bad.”

  When only a couple of bubbles remained, she fisted her hand. “If they’re close, Kaitlin will want to be involved, and it may aid your father’s recovery. And if he dies, well, then she’ll have more memories.”

  He frowned. “He’s not going to die. But I’ll think about it.”

  Leaning forward she smoothed Joe’s brow, the lines of fatigue around his mouth. “You need rest.”

  He shook his head, and tiny droplets of water fell from his wet hair to his broad shoulders. “Do you ever,” he said, sounding frustrated and amused, “stop looking after people?”

  “Do you?” she countered. “You’ve sold your home to pay for your dad’s care, you’ve been nursing a sick woman—”

  “Money, a bed and a jug of water are easy. But you give time, attention—you give yourself.” He hesitated. “I don’t do that, Pip.”

  She wrung out the washcloth, then wiped away the steam on her face. “My oldest brother and his wife had my first niece since I’ve been away,” she reflected. “Dad’s had some heart trouble—nothing serious, but enough to remind me I won’t have my parents around forever. And I have twenty-six cousins, half of whom I’m close to.” Pip smiled. “Even a ‘charmer’ like you can’t compete with the pull of family.”

  He chuckled, then hauled her around so she rested against his chest. Taking the washcloth, he began a slow, soapy sponge down. “How the hell did such a homebody end up living more than six thousand miles away?”

  Pip surrendered herself to the sensual roughness of the washcloth on her upper arms and shoulders. “I’d been burning the candle at both ends, slotting counselor courses around a full-time teaching job, when one of my mentors suggested the teacher exchange program as a working holiday.

  “The clincher was my breakup with Rob. He was a good friend of my brothers and I got tired of seeing hurt expressions every way I turned—and that was just Ben and Chris.” Behind her, Joe chuckled again. “Leaving the country was the only way I could make a clean break.”

  He ran the washcloth across her collarbone. “And has absence made the heart grow fonder?”

  “Of Rob?” Pip turned her head so she could look up at him. “Do you think I’d be in this tub if it had?”

  He paused in his work. “No,” he conceded, “but I’m trying to stay neutral. Isn’t that a rule in holiday romances? Or in our case, working holiday romances?”

  “I don’t know. You’re my first, too. We’ll just have to wing it.” He dipped the cloth in the bath, then trickled hot water over her breasts. It felt wonderful.

  “So is Rob still pining?”

  “God, no! It took him only three months to meet someone else and get engaged.” She was finding it hard to concentrate as Joe ran slow circles over her breasts, the washcloth a delicious abrasion on her nipples. “I wasn’t that special, after all.”

  He nuzzled the side of her neck, his erection nudging her bottom. “Quit fishing for compliments.”

  “I am special?” Pip said innocently.

  “You’re here, aren’t you?” There was laughter in his voice.

  She pulled the washcloth out of his hand and dumped it over his head. “Of all the arrogant—”

  He put his mouth on hers and Pip punished him through the kiss instead, capturing his exploring tongue between her teeth, before acquiescing. Their bodies slid together, unbearably erotic. Until the alarm on her sports watch beeped, and they broke apart.

  “What’s that?” said Joe.

  “A timely reminder to take contraception.”

  “You do take it seriously.”

  She reached into her cosmetics bag, sitting on the vanity, then popped the pill. “No kids until I’m in my thirties and the most sought-after family therapist in Auckland, with at least fifteen staff under me.”

  “Always wanting to be on top.” He pulled her back into the tub, reversed their positions and entered her in one thrust.

  “Oh,” said Pip.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he said huskily.

  “Way ahead of you,” she whispered back. And then they didn’t talk for a long, long time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “IT’S SO PRETTY,” Kaitlin breathed, holding the ornate necklace against her purple T-shirt.

  The gold chain was a bit old-fashioned, but she loved the heart-shaped diamond and all the blue stones around it. She gave the highest compliment she could pay. “It’s exactly what a princess would wear.”

  She sat in her second cousin Sue’s bedroom, surrounded by the four Carson women and thrilled to her toes to have long-lost relatives who were both beautiful and kind. She wasn’t quite clear on how she’d got them—Dad was vague on the details—but if it was good enough for The Princess Diaries, it was good enough for Kaitlin.

  And the story behind the necklace was so romantic. About a poor English boy, Kaitlin’s great-great-great-great—she kinda got lost with the greats, but there were a lot—grandfather, and the rich man’s daughter who gave him the necklace to help him escape to America when their affair was discovered. He was supposed to sell it, but instead he worked hard and kept it, and gave it to his wife when he eventually got married. Kaitlin thought it would have been even more romantic if he’d died of a broken heart, but then she wouldn’t be here so she forgave him for falling in love again.

  “I’ll lend it to you for your wedding,” promised Great-Aunt Jenny, replacing the jewel carefully in its black velvet box. “Now let’s take it to your father.”

  Dad was going to be looking after the necklace for a while. It had something to do with keeping it away from Great-Uncle Sam, who was the only one of her new relatives Kaitlin hadn’t met yet. It seemed odd that a man would want a necklace, but the grown-ups had noticed she was there before she could hear the whole story.

  “Can we wake up the babies so I can play with them?” Kaitlin asked Sue, who only laughed and shook her head.

  “Honey, we’ve just got them to sleep.” Sue had the best job in the world—looking after foster babies, though baby Carrie was hers and Uncle Rick’s by adoption.

  “Come and eat pizza instead,” suggested her other second cousin, Belle, who had the next best job in the world; working for a pizza company. She’d brought a Hawaiian one especially for Kaitlin, since the grown-ups were all eating shrimp. Yuk.

  “First we’ll go give this necklace to your daddy,” said Great-Aunt Jenny.

  Kaitlin skipped ahead to where the men had gathered around the barbecue in the yard. The horizon sucked the last heat from the setting sun like a kid with a lollipop. This family needed more babies, she decided, so there’d always be one awake to play with.

  It was just after five-thirty on a Thursday evening in early October and she was thrilled to be seeing Dad on a school night. Thrilled to be spending time with her new relatives.

  Dad and Uncle Daniel had moved away from the barbecue to make room for the cooks to serve up the food. “You have the look of a guy that’s getting la—” Uncle Daniel caught sight of her. “Laid pipe,” he continued. “Gas pipes, electrical conduits.”

  “Uncle Daniel,” Kaitlin interrupted impatiently. “Do you want a baby?”

  His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “No, thanks, honey, I’ve got a beer.”

  Following a half dozen steps behind her, Great-Aunt Jenny paused at the open sliding doors to exchange a word with her husband, who carried a plate of grilled corn inside.

  “No, I mean do you want to get married and have babies. Since you’re so old?”

  “I’m only thirty-seven and three quarters,” he said solemnly. “And you’re my favorite baby.”

 
She pulled a face; he pulled one right back. “So Great-Aunt Jenny’s your sister, right?”

  Hearing her name, Great-Aunt Jenny started walking over.

  “Half sister. Your great-grandmother was our mom but we had different dads.”

  “And Sue’s your niece.” Kaitlin grinned. She loved that you could be someone’s uncle even when you were only nine years older. She knew that Uncle Daniel was really her great-uncle, too, but he seemed way too young to call him that. “Are you related to anyone else here?”

  “Only you, pumpkin, and your dad. You’re my real family.”

  Great-Aunt Jenny’s smile faltered. She stopped just short of their group.

  “Jenny, I’m sorry,” Uncle Daniel said awkwardly. “I only meant that I’ve always known these guys.”

  “That’s fine, Daniel.” She smiled again, but you could tell she was still kinda hurt. “Joe, thanks for doing this.” She held out the black velvet box. “I appreciate it.”

  Dad took the necklace, but he didn’t look happy about it. “I’m thinking a month max,” he said.

  “Let’s hope Sam’s given up by then,” Great-Aunt Jenny replied. She looked at Kaitlin and said brightly, “Who wants to eat? Sweetie, go tell Belle and Sue we’re ready.”

  En route, Kaitlin stopped to listen by the babies’ door just in case they were awake. Not a peep.

  “Have you noticed anything different about Joe?” she heard Sue say to Belle, down the short hall in the kitchen.

  “I have, but I can’t put my finger on it. I mean, he’s always been a good-looking guy…but granite, you know? He’s softer somehow.”

  “He’s got the glow,” said Sue softly.

  “The love glow?” Belle sounded in awe. “You think there’s a woman brave enough to slash through those thorns?”

  “He’s not that bad,” protested Sue, but she was laughing. “Well, okay maybe he is, but he wasn’t always.” There was a moment of silence. “I so hope I’m right.” She sounded like a kid wishing for a very, very special Christmas present.

  “We could ask him,” Belle suggested.

  “Go ahead,” said Sue.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Aunt Jenny says the barbecue’s all ready,” Kaitlin announced, stepping into the kitchen. Both women started guiltily. She thought about telling them that Dad wouldn’t go out with Miss Browne, then decided against it. Sue would only be disappointed.

  Still, Kaitlin had a question for her dad when they began the drive home a few hours later. “Love doesn’t make you glow, does it, Dad?” she asked sleepily.

  “No, honey, not as far as I know.”

  Kaitlin yawned, snuggled down into the leather seat and closed her eyes. “Don’t forget your seat belt, Dad.”

  “TELL ME HOW YOU MET Nadia,” said Pip a month later.

  Considering they were sitting in a downtown restaurant, celebrating Halloween by eating Creepy Crawler pasta and Monster Mash salad, it was fitting, Joe thought wryly, she’d ask a question that raised specters.

  By now he knew his girlfriend well enough not to flinch at her fearless inquiries or suspect a sinister female agenda. For all her frankness Pip respected his right to privacy and took no offense if he shook his head on a subject. Which meant he rarely did.

  As he weighed his answer, a group of young hobbits and goblins at the next table started singing along to “Monster Mash.” The ghosts on Pip’s head-bopper bounced as she swayed to the music. They’d been given the damn things at the door and Joe had chosen the smallest—devil’s horns. “Remind me how we ended up here?”

  “Because I wanted a Halloween experience.” She passed her scissored fingers across her eyes, imitating Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction, and Joe grinned. “And Anita said this was the place all the kids recommended,” she finished.

  “It is,” agreed Joe. “Nadia and I used to bring Kaitlin here before she went trick-or-treating.”

  Pip stopped swaying and the ghosts trembled to a halt. “Oh, Joe, I’m sorry. Would you prefer to go somewhere else?”

  “No, it’s okay.” He’d got used to the ache around events like this. “It’s fun watching you have fun.” Her enjoyment of everything, from the jack-o’-lanterns and cobweb place mats to the costumes worn by the junior patrons, gave him a new appreciation of the holiday.

  Just then a body walked past their booth, carrying his head under his arm. Pip stared after it in fascination. “You want me to tell you how the costume works?” he offered.

  She shook her head and the ghosts danced. “No, I prefer the magic.”

  Joe picked up his Bloodthirsty Mary. “To magic,” he toasted, and their eyes met. Lately he couldn’t tear his gaze away from hers.

  “Monster Mash” faded into Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, who sang “I put a spell on you.”

  Joe blinked, then raised his glass and drank, welcoming the grounding burn of Tabasco in the tomato juice.

  Pip picked up her fork, then put it down again.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “I still get the occasional wave of nausea…. It’s gone now.” She picked up her fork again. “That food poisoning sure is persistent.”

  “Did you ever get checked out by a doctor?”

  “I’ve made an appointment for next week.” Spearing a shrunken-head baked potato, she began eating. “So, you were going to tell me how you met Nadia.”

  “She was my college roommate and I was on the rebound. We got drunk together one night and ended up in bed.”

  Brokenhearted and gut lonely after Nana Jo’s death, he’d taken advantage of Nadia’s feelings for him. He still despised himself for that.

  Pip added sour cream to her potato. “You must have been in a lot of pain to be that irresponsible.”

  “It was self-indulgent teen angst,” he said, stabbing at his bloodbath lasagna. “I’d been rejected by my high school crush and thought a bruised ego entitled me to cut loose.”

  “Except Nadia got pregnant and you got married.”

  “It was the right thing to do.”

  To his astonishment Pip slid around in the booth and kissed him, all soft lips and sour cream. “What was that for?” he asked as she slid back and resumed eating.

  “You’re a good person.”

  “The marriage failed, Pip,” he reminded her.

  “It lasted almost nine years,” she answered. “Given its beginning, that was some effort you two made. Did you ever love her, Joe?”

  Only Pip would have the nerve to ask that question. “Yes,” he said. “But never the way she needed me to, never fervently. For the most part we worked hard, and we did a lot of pretending.”

  In contrast, his relationship with Pip over the last month had been effortless, probably because they had no expectations of each other. Actually, that wasn’t true. Last week when he’d called to say he’d be forty minutes late to pick her up because he wanted to clear some paperwork, she’d said, “I’m not Nadia.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Either you arrive at the time we arranged or we postpone.” No threat, simply a statement, delivered in a cheerful and reasonable tone.

  “Okay, let’s postpone.” Joe didn’t respond well to ultimatums, no matter how cheerfully delivered. “How about tomorrow?”

  She lost none of her friendliness. “I’m going to the movies with Anita.”

  “Thursday?”

  “Having dinner with my neighbor.”

  “Friday?”

  “Remember I’m spending the weekend in Tahoe?”

  Unwilling to back down, Joe made a date for the following week. They had a wonderful evening being scrupulously nice to each other, followed by raw makeup sex. And he’d learned his lesson.

  “Let’s make a deal,” Pip said now. “Honesty between us no matter what. And if it gets too difficult with me leaving, we part with no hard feelings.”

  So damn earnest, so endearingly a stickler for fair play. They still had seven weeks before she retu
rned to New Zealand for Christmas. Plenty of time to start reining in this infatuation.

  Joe tapped his horns. “You shouldn’t be making deals with the devil.”

  “Ah, but I know his weakness,” said Pip, peeling back the lapel of her silk shirt to reveal a scarlet bra strap.

  He stopped smiling. “Let’s skip dessert.”

  While they waited for their check, he nuzzled her neck, making her shiver as he whispered huskily what he was going to do to her when he got her back to the hotel. “Joe, we’re in public,” Pip said breathlessly.

  “Let ’em look,” he growled, and kissed her, because he badly needed to. When they finally broke apart her eyes were heavy-lidded. Then she glanced beyond him and her eyes widened. “What, another headless body?” he teased, turning with his arm still around her shoulder.

  Staring back were Nadia, Doug and two princesses.

  “WELL,” SAID PIP BRIGHTLY, as they all sat in the booth watching the girls eat dessert. “Isn’t this nice?” The adults had settled for coffee.

  Eyes shining, Kaitlin and Melissa both nodded vigorously. Delirious with joy that their matchmaking had worked. “If you marry my dad,” said Kaitlin, “we’ll be related. Won’t that be cool?”

  Dressed in a yellow satin ball gown—“I’m Belle from Beauty and the Beast”—Kaitlin squished her hoop skirt under the table to reach her dessert, and her tiara fell into the ice cream. Retrieving it, she licked it clean.

  “Not very princesslike,” said Nadia, her face set in a smile. At any minute Pip expected writhing snakes to break through.

  “We’re not getting married,” Pip assured Nadia. She nudged Joe for confirmation, but he’d taken refuge in a conversation with Doug about sports, the male equivalent of a panic room. The two men were getting on better now that Kaitlin’s relationship with Joe had been sorted out.

  “Besides,” said Melissa authoritatively, “if she married your dad she’d turn into a wicked stepmother. They all do.” Melissa was dressed as Ariel from The Little Mermaid, and appropriately blue because she refused to wear anything warm over her puffed short sleeves. In a long red wig she looked more like Pippi Longstocking on a bad hair day. “You’ll just have to stay in love.” She sighed theatrically and the tight skirt that made up her tail strained at its chiffon seams. “It’s so romantic.”

 

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