“They’re going to stay with Bruno and Anna starting next Wednesday. Soph has to go back to work. Bruno’s taking time off; they’re all going camping.”
“Oooohhh, they’ll like that.” Big sigh of relief. “I’ve never been away from them before. I really miss them.”
“They miss you too, but they’re pretty adaptable.” They were; they could wreak havoc virtually anywhere. Eric figured nobody else in the family was going to miss them when Karen got back, if their current track record held true.
“So how’s it going with you? The parental units trying to borrow money from you yet?”
“Not yet. It’s nice here, Eric, I’m turning brown from the sun. The house is open. There's a central courtyard and lots of flowers. Mom has a gardener called Miguel. My room is at the back, and the birds are amazing in the early morning. I can walk to the ocean, I go swimming every day. Mom and Dad spend part of each day at the orphanage. Mom takes care of the babies and Dad entertains the kids with his guitar. I’ve been trimming everyone’s hair.”
“Jesus.” Eric scowled and shook his head. “That orphanage gig, I just don’t believe it.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “It’s not as if they’re familiar with kids, they never spent that much time with their own. Have they even asked about Simon and Ian?” He knew his parents were right there; he shouldn’t put her on the spot this way.
“I brought a ton of pictures with me.”
They were there, but still he had to warn her. “Don’t expect anything from them, sweet pea. Don’t loan them money, don’t let them exploit you with this hair thing. And don’t let them get under your skin. They’re not worth it.”
“I hear you. I don’t necessarily agree.”
How old did you have to get before you stopped wanting attention from your parents? Older than Karen, that was for sure.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m feeling lots better and Mom’s cook, Consuela, is teaching me how to make tortillas and something called mole. When I get home I’ll cook you guys an authentic Mexican meal.” She took a shaky breath. “Have you heard anything from Scissor Happy? Is Junella going to try and get my license lifted? Is Myrna going to sue me?”
“Fletcher’s dealing with Junella. He figures she’s in violation of several employment laws, so I wouldn’t worry about your license. And Myrna can’t sue you personally, the salon carries insurance for stuff like that. Don’t worry about any of it. Fletch will get it all sorted out. It’ll be history by the time you come home.”
“Tell Fletcher I’m grateful. Tell him I’ll cut his hair free for the rest of his life. Although maybe under the circumstances, he might not think that’s the best offer he’s ever had.”
Good, she could joke about it now. “His hair’s thinning anyway. And before I forget, I told the boys you’d send them postcards.”
“I already did, tons of them, iguanas and Para-sails and big fish. Hopefully they’ll get them before I get back, the mail here isn’t the best. And oh yeah, how’s it going with Synchronicity?”
“They lined me up with this babe called Sylvia, but I flunked out at Dating one-oh-one, so Tessa’s got me in her class for losers.”
That made her giggle. He smiled. She really was better.
“Learn your lessons, big brother. And tell Tess hi from me when you see her next.”
Whenever the bloody rain check kicked in. “Shall do.”
“I should go. I love you, Eric. You’re the best.”
“I love you too, sweet pea. I’ll call you again in a couple days. Remember what I said about Georgia and Sonny.”
“I will. Bye.”
Karen set the phone down, thinking she was going to cry, but she found herself smiling instead at the thought of Tessa and Eric together. So she and her sisters might have pulled it off. And her kids were doing okay. Eric would have told her if they weren’t.
She’d been missing them something awful, so she’d brought out pictures of them to show her parents. They’d sort of glanced at them, but then they started talking about famous musicians they’d had their picture taken with. And Sonny had dragged out a box of photos, and her kids got buried under her parents’ egos.
She’d always thought that if she just had enough time with Sonny and Georgia, she could make them care about her, take an interest, love her the way she wanted to be loved. She knew now that was a pipe dream.
Sonny held up a yellowed photograph. “Look at this one, Karen, this is your mom and I with John Sebastian, from Lovin’ Spoonful.” He kissed Georgia, full on the lips. “Damn, babe, I used to love that blue dress on you.”
Georgia and Sonny bent over the snap, their sun-ravaged faces glowing, their daughter forgotten. Sonny’s arm was around Georgia’s hips, and she bent and pressed a kiss on his brown-spotted balding head.
They were self-centered, aging, pathetic and sad. Those things were undeniable. But Karen couldn’t help but notice that they cared deeply about each other, and that the caring went beyond what might be expected of a couple who’d been together over forty years.
Astounding as it was, they were still in love, the way Karen had been in love with Jimmy in the beginning. She even heard them making love at night, their quiet laughter. She saw them touch each other just for the sake of touching.
It made Karen unbearably lonely, but it also gave her something positive. Her brother and sisters referred to Sonny and Georgia as write-offs when it came to parenting, and they were right, even Karen understood that now. But they loved each other, and they’d made their marriage work, in whatever dysfunctional manner. It was an accomplishment, something in their favor. It comforted Karen.
She even understood a little of their failure at parenting.
Kids demanded all you had to give, they drained you. Karen knew that all too well. Most people did a balancing act with their kids, this much for themselves, that much for the kids. Georgia and Sonny simply took a hundred percent for themselves. Somewhere she’d read that the children of lovers were orphans. It was all too true.
The fortunate thing was that she and her sisters had always had Eric to love and care for them. What hurt was that up till now, Eric hadn’t had anyone of his own caring for him.
He was so stubborn, so afraid to love anybody in case they didn’t love him back, and he needed love so much. If only he’d give in and let himself fall for Tessa.
At noon on Saturday, Eric gave in. He’d told himself he wasn’t calling Tessa. She was the one with the bloody rain check, she could damned well call him. There was no way a woman was going to jerk his chain this way, on again, off again, hot, cold, maybe. It was all over with her except for the formalities.
He’d started welding together something he called Woman, because it had dawned on him that ball bearings would make perfect nipples, and a piece of old railway steel was just the right shape for a body. He could leave the center empty where the heart should go.
But he couldn’t concentrate, and after he’d come close to blinding himself for the second time, he snatched up the phone. It was time to get a few things straightened out between them. They needed to discuss stuff like, was she okay for money, did she want to come and work for him just as a stopgap. He’d had women driving for him before, they were terrific. She could leave again whenever she liked.
“Tessa, hi.” It was a beginning.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I’m in bed, I still have a headache. Why don’t you come over and cure it? I’ll leave the back door unlocked.”
He’d stuffed some underwear and things in a sports bag and was out the door before he remembered he still didn’t have a car, which was totally stupid, he owned a flourishing business and four trucks, for Christ sake.
He whistled down a cab, and at the Volkswagen dealers on Kingsway he bought a new turbo diesel Jetta. He was going to get black, but he remembered something Tessa had said and changed his mind.
Driving it was a dream. It shot ahead at stop signs,
zipped in and out of traffic. It looked classy parked in front of Tessa’s place. No more bitching about his dump trucks and what the neighbors would think.
He went in the back door, and down the hall to her bedroom. She actually was in bed, wearing something white and see-through, no sheet because it was a really hot day. She sat up against the soft pillows and he could see her nipples, shadowed against the cotton. Her pillowcases were trimmed with eyelet.
He knew eyelet; his sisters had had dresses out of it long ago. With her wild curls touching her shoulders and that mouth and those nipples, she looked like a painting from behind some bar, only better.
She said, “What took you so long?”
“I had to stop at the dealers and pick up a car.” He sat down and pulled off his shoes. “As soon as your headache’s gone, we can go for a ride.”
“How old a car?” Her voice was suspicious. “Does it actually run?”
“New. Right off the showroom floor.”
“You bought a new car? I thought you only liked old ones.”
“A guy can change; nothing’s written in stone.”
“My god, Eric, do you have any idea how sexy new cars are?”
He took off his shorts and T-shirt. “I’m hoping maybe you could show me.”
“Lie down here.” He did, and she slid down his body, her mouth soft and tickling, teasing and then urgent, and when he couldn’t bear it any longer he rolled her beneath him.
“Don’t close your eyes,” she said, so he didn’t, moving in her slow and long, holding back because that way it took longer, looking into her eyes and sliding, sweat like hot oil between them, hers and his and then no space, just nerves and heat, and her eyes, melting, and a long, shuddering slide, and they broke together, fire and trembling peace.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Chaste makes waste
Fantastic orgasms just weren’t enough, Tessa decided.
Probably all the other women who’d fallen for him thought the same as she had in the beginning, they could take him or leave him, no big deal. Wrong, wrong. She loved him. She wanted so much more from him than orgasms. It might not even bother her so much if people didn’t keep getting married.
Her father had phoned at eleven last evening. “We wanted you to know we’re in Reno. Your mother and I just tied the knot.”
Tessa’s heart thumped, and her voice was so quavery she wondered who the heck was talking. “Congratulations.” She’d been half expecting it, but it was still an awful shock. What should she say?
“I hope you and Mom sell that damned motorcycle and live happily ever after, Dad.” That was dumb, but she didn’t exactly have a script prepared.
“Thanks, honey. Your mom’s here, she wants to talk to you.”
“Tessa?” Maria sounded breathless and fluttery. “Oh, Tessa, it was the nicest wedding. I wish you could have been here. They have the cutest little chapel, and they supply flowers and everything. You’re not upset with us, are you, honey? I know you had some misgivings, but we’re older now, we know what we want. And Tessa?”
She hadn’t meant to cry, but she was. “Yeah, Mom?”
“Tessa, we’re so much in love.” Maria was crying, too.
“I’m really happy for you, Mom. For both of you.”
And just like that, she knew it was true. She knew that this time, she wanted her folks to make it. She wanted it so much she’d been afraid to admit there was a possibility, but what the heck had there been to hang her hopes on? Certainly not their past performance, or her own marital track record. But somebody deserved a happy ever after, and it might as well be her parents.
Eric mumbled, “You okay, Tess?”
Her head was on his shoulder, his leg across her thighs.
“Your headache better? Is there anything you want? Something to drink, maybe?”
Just a little glass of commitment, big guy.
“My mom and dad got married last night. They say they’ve fallen back in love again. You ever been in love, Eric?”
Time passed and he didn’t answer, so after awhile she gave up, slid away and sat up. She kept expecting more. She had to stop that.
“My headache’s totally gone, you should patent this cure of yours. Let’s go out and celebrate your new car and my new parents. I’ve got this summer dress I’ve never had a chance to wear yet.”
“You sure you’re okay with that?”
“The dress? Absolutely, you’ll like it, it’s almost sheer. The car? I’m boondoggled and hornswoggled that you’d break with tradition and buy a new vehicle. What color is it?”
As for commitment, if you think you’re riding out of Dodge in a new car without a gunfight, you’ve got a news flash coming.
“Red. And I didn’t mean the car, I was talking about your parents.”
“You bought a red car? But I love red cars.”
“I know, you told me once. What about your parents?”
“I love them, too. They’re over eighteen and Mom’s not pregnant this time, so I’m pretty optimistic about it. C’mon and have a shower with me.”
It took a long, long time to get clean, and when they finally made it to the car, Tessa took one look and fell in lust.
“You can drive if you want.” Eric tossed her the keys, and when she climbed in, the new leather smelled so good she wanted to lick the seats.
A guy can change, he’d said. Nothing’s written in stone.
Maybe there was an opening here. Maybe all she needed was a foolproof plan.
Wednesday morning, Anna sat at her kitchen table with her laptop, charted her horoscope, and tried to plan her life for the rest of the week.
Sudden and unexpected change, thanks to Uranus. That was obvious; Sophie was due to arrive in a couple minutes with the boys. Jupiter in retrograde, so spiritual progress would be limited. How could anybody be expected to make progress with two small boys around? And Pluto aspecting heavily, indicating massive upheaval.
That was happening already. She’d just had yet another blowup with Bruno. Her stomach hurt and she couldn’t even finish her yogurt because of it. And all she’d done was point out the things she didn’t want the boys to touch while they were here.
“It cost a lot to have the house and yard feng shui’d. The aquarium and the jade plant and the pond in the garden are guaranteed to bring harmony to our relationship, so please tell the boys they’re to stay away from all of them.”
He’d looked at her as if she was some loonie he’d happened to stumble across sitting at his kitchen table. “Anna, you taught kids for eleven years, for cripes’ sake. What’s the big deal with your own nephews spending a couple weeks here?”
“You really need to get a handle on your emotions, Bruno, I’ve told you a zillion times you should learn to meditate. And teaching teenagers art and social studies isn’t the same as having a five-year-old and a three-year-old living with us. My pupils went home at the end of the day.”
And it had taken her eleven years to figure out teaching wasn’t what she was cut out to do. She wasn’t that good with kids. Astrology was her mission in this life.
“It’s good practice for when our own kids come,” he said in that exasperated tone he was using on her these days. “A person would think you didn’t even like kids, the way you go on about Simon and Ian.”
“I love them. I just don’t want to live with them.” He was mentioning their own kids more and more lately, and each time she’d get this same sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sure, she wanted kids, she’d told him that before they were married. She just hadn’t added maybe, someday, later. Much later.
It was too bad, but Bruno just wasn’t keeping up with her spiritual growth, and it was causing problems between them. She told him so, and he shoved his breakfast aside and stomped out into the yard.
She went to the window. He was putting up a basketball hoop on the side of the garage, dangerously close to her lilies. She tried to see cleansing light around him, but she couldn’t get
it past the tension in her gut.
Two weeks. Two whole weeks with Simon and Ian.
Sophie’s car had just pulled into the driveway. She heard Bruno call to the boys, and then Sophie opened the back door and came in.
“Anna? How’s it going? Got any coffee?”
Coffee wasn’t good for the central nervous system, Anna knew that, but she’d just brewed a second pot. She’d have to do a deep tissue cleanse when this was finally over, to get rid of the negative emotional residue in her cells.
“Isn’t it a glorious morning?” Sophie was practically singing. ‘There’s nothing like Vancouver when the sun shines.” She sat down, looking as if she was bursting with well being, blue eyes shining, skin creamy and glowing, lips—were Sophie’s lips always that swollen?
“What’s up with you, Soph? You look sort of, well…..enlightened.”
Which was hard to fathom, because the last time Anna talked to her, sometime last week, Sophie had almost lost her famous cool. The boys had knocked over a display of spaghetti sauce in the supermarket. Not cans, eighteen glass jars, which had sprayed over Sophie, the boys, three customers and a clerk. Apparently the manager had asked if Sophie would please not patronize his store again.
Maybe Sophie was so happy because it was a huge relief to be getting rid of the kids? Two weeks. Apprehension gripped Anna by the throat.
“I’m over the moon, Anna. You’ll never guess what’s happened.” Sophie’s voice was lyrical. “Rocky finally caved.”
It took a moment to process that. “Rocky? He finally took you out?”
“Not exactly. Apart from taking the kids places, we’ve been staying home and going to bed early. Thank heavens little kids sleep a lot.” Sophie leaped to her feet and threw her arms around Anna. “Oh, God, Anna, last night he proposed. ”
“In bed?”
“Of course in bed, it’s the only place we’ve been alone.”
“You think he meant it?”
Sophie gave her a withering look. “Of course he meant it. He’s finally come to his senses. We’ve known each other forever, it’s stupid to waste any more time.” She did a whirling dance around the kitchen table. “I’m so happy I can’t stand it.”
MAKE ME A MATCH (Running Wild) Page 21