Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me

by Jennifer Crusie

  “Listen,” Reynolds said, raising a finger. “You are not—”

  “You know, Reynolds,” Cal said. “When you get home, you’re going to figure out that you just gave your kid the same kind of flashback you and I have been having all our lives. And while you are a butthead, you’re not a mean butthead, so that should give you some good nightmares about your parenting skills. In the meantime, you’re picking a fight with somebody who takes no prisoners. I’d back away slowly if I were you.”

  “We’re going home,” Bink said.

  “I don’t see why—” Reynolds began and then Bink looked at him, her gray eyes steely cold.

  “We,” she said, “are going home where we will discuss this. Min, will you and Cal see that Harry gets home safely?”

  “Yes,” Cal said from behind her, and Min nodded, shaking now that the first adrenaline rush had passed. She stepped sideways, back to her own seat, feeling incredibly rash, not to mention rude, and when she turned and sat down, Cal had already started back down the bleachers, Reynolds and Bink following him.

  Out on the field, Harry had his back to them, but Tony was talking to him, so that was all right. Of course, Tony was probably telling him that his father was a jerk, but as far as Min was concerned, that was all right, too.

  She glanced over at Cynthie, who looked thoughtful. “Hi,” Min said, taking a deep breath. “Enjoy the show?”

  “I wouldn’t have done it,” Cynthie said, “but good for you anyway. You have more guts than I have.”

  “It wasn’t guts,” Min said. “I probably overreacted.”

  “No,” Cynthie said. “Cal overreacted, but he couldn’t help it. Reynolds played that family script and it makes Cal insane. He can’t stand being called stupid.”

  “They get that a lot when they were kids?” Min said.

  “I think they both had lousier childhoods than we can imagine,” Cynthie said. “That doesn’t mean you get to hit your brother in front of your nephew.”

  “He probably wouldn’t have,” Min said.

  “I don’t know,” Cynthie said. “But now you’re the bad guy for the family, not him. So you did him a favor there.”

  “I was already the bad guy,” Min said. “His parents hated me.”

  “I don’t think they like anybody much,” Cynthie said. “They’re very self-absorbed people. Not cruel. They just don’t pay attention.”

  “So,” Min said. “You’re the psychologist, right? What do we do for Harry?”

  “Cal will take care of it,” Cynthie said, nodding down at the field, where Harry and Cal were now sitting in the dugout. She tilted her head at Min. “It was doubly bad because you were here, you know. Harry has such a crush on you that to be embarrassed like that . . .” She shook her head and sighed. “You’re right. Reynolds is a butthead.”

  “Is that the clinical term?” Min said.

  “In Reynolds’s case, yes,” Cynthie said.

  Down in the dugout, Tony sat down next to Liza and said, “You know, I used to think that if I was ever in a bar fight, I’d want you backing me up, but I think Min just moved ahead of you in the ranking.”

  “I wouldn’t cross her,” Lisa said. “That man is a complete loss.”

  “Yeah,” Tony said, his eyes on the field. “But Harry’ll be okay. He has Cal and Bink and Min on his side. I’d take that team any day. Christ, look at that.” He raised his voice. “Hey, Soames, look where you’re throwing the ball.” He shook his head but kept watching Soames anyway, ready to help.

  That was Tony all over, Liza thought. He acted like a big lug but if anybody needed him, he was there.

  She was really going to miss him.

  “Tony,” she said as he bit into his hot dog, waiting until he was eating on the theory that it would soften the blow. “We are not going to work out.”

  “What was your first clue?” Tony said around his hot dog, his eyes still on the field.

  Liza let out her breath in relief. “It’s not that you’re not a great guy—”

  “I know.” Tony swallowed and bit into his sandwich again. Out on the field, a kid bobbled a catch, and he closed his eyes. “Jesus.”

  “We just got caught up in that threesome thing,” Liza said, and Tony stopped chewing and looked at her. “I mean, the three of us, the three of you. You know.”

  “Right.” Tony resumed chewing and watching the field.

  “Bonnie and Roger,” Liza said, “that’s a little spooky, but Bonnie doesn’t make mistakes.”

  Tony swallowed. “Neither does Roger. They’ll be okay.”

  Liza nodded. “And Min and Cal . . . well, I don’t know, but he’s not taking her for a ride, so I’m butting out of that one.”

  “Good.” Tony took another bite, squinting at the field.

  “But you and I are toast,” Liza finished.

  “Yep.” Tony shook his head at the field. “That kid has no arm.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re taking this so well,” Liza said, annoyed.

  Tony shrugged. “I like you, but you’re always charging someplace, creating disturbance, and I like my stability.”

  “Chaos theory,” Liza said.

  “Yep,” Tony said. “Disturbed systems move to a higher order or disintegrate. We disintegrated. Also, you hate sports. Big deal. Nobody’s mad. What’s not to take?”

  “Then why didn’t you end it?” Liza said, annoyed.

  “I liked the sex. Oh, hell.” Tony scowled at the field where a hapless child had just missed a grounder. “You know, some kids should not play baseball.”

  “Actually, I liked the sex, too,” Liza said, thinking about it.

  “Anytime,” Tony said. “Now that’s an arm.” He lifted his chin and shouted, “Nice one, Jessica!”

  Jessica waved back at him and then forgot Tony and crouched down, waiting for whatever came next.

  Jessica is no dummy, Liza thought. “I do like you,” she told Tony, and he looked at her and grinned.

  “I like you, too, babe,” he said. “If you ever need a guy beat up, call me.”

  “Thank you,” Liza said, touched. “If you ever need a woman slapped, you have my number.”

  “Really?” Tony perked up a little. “Can I watch?”

  “And this is why we’re no longer having sex,” Liza said. “So you’re okay?”

  “Yes,” Tony said, and then yelled, “No, no, no,” at the field.

  Liza stood up and kissed him on the top of the head. “Don’t be mean to these kids,” she told him before she left him. “They’re going to grow up to own the companies you’ll be working for.”

  A few minutes before the game ended, Min went down to the fence where Cal was leaning on the dugout. She stood there for a minute, not sure what to do, and then she cleared her throat.

  “That was good, what you said to Reynolds,” she said, hooking her fingers in the chain link. “Really good.”

  Cal looked out at the field.

  Look at me, damn it, Min thought, and searched for something that would get his attention. “And . . . really hot,” she lied, and swallowed hard. “I was very turned on. If there hadn’t been so many people here, I’d have done you in the dugout.”

  Cal stood very still and then turned to her, his face still wooden.

  Uh oh, she thought.

  “Give me five minutes,” he said. “I’ll clear the place.”

  Min exhaled in relief. “You had me worried.”

  “Sorry.” Cal walked over to her and leaned on the fence to talk to her, looping his fingers through the chain link so they touched hers. “That was a bad flashback.”

  “Your dad.” Min crossed her fingers over his because touching him again felt so right. “I got that. Is Harry okay?”

  “No,” Cal said. “But he’ll live.”

  “I don’t know if Reynolds will,” Min said. “Bink looked like the Angel of Death.”

  “His ass is grass,” Cal said. “Doesn’t help Harry much.”

 
“Why did she marry him?” Min blurted. “I’m sorry, but—”

  “He blinded her with charm.” Cal smiled at her tightly. “He met her in college and took one look at her money and threw everything he had at her. She never had a chance.”

  Min thought of Bink, probably a frightened little owl in college, running into the glamorous and gorgeous Reynolds. “Why does she stay?”

  “Because he loves her now,” Cal said. “Harry’s birth changed him. He’s a lot better than he used to be.”

  “Damn,” Min said. “What was he before?”

  “A charming bastard,” Cal said, his face grim again as he looked down at her. “Just like all the Morriseys.”

  “That’s not you,” Min said.

  “Oh, honey, it is sometimes,” Cal said miserably. “More than you know.”

  “I’ve never seen it,” Min said.

  “That’s because I wasn’t a bastard with you,” Cal said. “You beat that out of me early.”

  Min grinned. “Well, you asked for it, Charm Boy.”

  “Thanks for coming down here,” he said softly, and then Tony called him and he went back to the field.

  Min went to sit beside Bonnie, and it wasn’t until Bonnie reached over and covered Min’s hands with hers that she realized she was shaking.

  “How’s it going there?” Bonnie said.

  “This fairy tale thing,” Min said. “It’s not for kids.”

  Min went out to the parking lot after the game and found Harry in the backseat of Cal’s car, and Cal leaning against the passenger door, waiting for her. Don’t lunge for him, she told herself. Harry will notice.

  “How are we doing?” she said.

  “We’re going to have lunch,” Cal said, straightening. “And hear a lot of Elvis because thanks to you, that’s now Harry’s favorite music.” He opened the car door for her.

  “That’s because Harry has great taste,” Min said, sticking her chin out. She got in the car and said, “Hey, fish guy, I hear we’re going to the diner for lunch. All Elvis, all the time.”

  Harry nodded.

  “If I were you, I’d ask for processed meats,” Min said. “In fact, ask for a brat. Milk this sucker for everything you can get.”

  Harry looked surprised and then he nodded.

  “Ready, Harry?” Cal said as he got in.

  Harry nodded at him, soberly. “May I have a brat for lunch?”

  “What?” Cal said and turned to look at him.

  Harry peered back, woebegone.

  “Minerva,” Cal said, looking straight into her eyes. “You’re corrupting my nephew.”

  “Me?” Min lost her breath and smiled at him. “No, no. It’s just that Americans eat twenty billion hot dogs a year and I think Harry should have one of them.”

  “Yeah,” Harry said from the backseat.

  “Twenty billion,” Cal said and started to laugh, and Min relaxed a little.

  When they were on the road, Min looked over the seat at Harry. “So what’s new in the world of fish?”

  “Are you wearing those fish shoes?” Harry said.

  “No,” Min said. “I found another shoe sale. I am wearing glass slippers with cherries on the toes.”

  Cal looked down at her feet. “They’re okay,” he said after a moment. “But they’re not fish.”

  Harry nodded.

  “So explain to me about ichthyology,” Min said, and for the next two hours, Harry did, while Min tried to be fascinated but mostly thought about ways to get Cal to touch her. Anywhere. She’d take a pat on the head. To start with. But even with the distraction of Cal, by the time they were finished with lunch, Min knew more about fish than she thought possible.

  “I may never eat seafood again,” Cal said, as he held the car door for her.

  “Yes, but if there’s any money in fish, Harry will support you in your old age,” Min said, trying to ignore how close he was, and got in.

  When Cal was in the car, too, Min said, “So, Harry, how you doing back there?”

  “Can I have a doughnut?” Harry said, looking woebegone again.

  “Harrison,” Cal said. “You are pushing it.”

  “Drive to Krispy Kreme,” Min told Cal, who rolled his eyes and drove.

  When they got there, the “Hot” sign was on, and Harry turned his owl eyes on Min. “Can I have two?”

  “Harry,” Cal said.

  “Yes,” Min said. “Today you can have two.”

  “This is a mistake,” Cal said, but he went inside with them and they drank milk and ate warm chocolate-iced glazed doughnuts and talked about fish, and Min remembered the picnic table and tried not to breathe faster. By the time Harry was done with his second doughnut, he didn’t look woebegone anymore.

  When they got back to the car, Cal said to Min, “You’re in the backseat.”

  “Okay,” Min said, and got in the backseat, not sure why she’d been banished. Maybe Cal had seen the lust in her eyes and was trying to protect himself.

  Harry looked happy as a clam riding shotgun for about five minutes. Then he turned green.

  “Yep,” Cal said and pulled over.

  Harry opened the door and lost two doughnuts and a pint of milk into the gutter.

  “Oh, honey,” Min said, wincing with guilt. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was worth it,” Harry said, wiping his mouth. “And I kept the brat.”

  Cal passed him a bottle of Evian. “Rinse and spit. At least twice.”

  “Where’d you get that?” Min said while Harry rinsed and spat.

  “I bought it when I paid for the doughnuts,” Cal said. “I’ve been here before.”

  Harry sat back in his seat. “It’s pretty gross out there. Should I pour the rest of the water on it?”

  “Sure,” Cal said, and met Min’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “We Morriseys always wash out gutters with Evian.”

  “You people are pure class,” Min said.

  When they pulled into Harry’s driveway, which was a clone of Cal’s parents’ drive, Harry turned to Cal and said, “Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome, Harry,” Cal said.

  Then Harry leaned between the seats and whispered, “Thank you for the doughnuts.”

  “My pleasure,” Min whispered back, and then she leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “I love you, Harry.”

  He grinned at her, and then shot a superior look at his uncle.

  “Harrison, if you’re making time with my girl, you’re in big trouble,” Cal said.

  Harry grinned wider and got out of the car. “See ya,” he said and slammed the door.

  “He’s a little young for you, don’t you think?” Cal said, meeting her eyes in the rearview.

  Min swallowed. “Yes, but he’s a Morrisey. You can’t resist that charm.”

  “Yeah, I thought it was particularly charming the way he barfed in the gutter,” Cal said. “You going to move back up here with me?”

  “I kind of like it back here,” Min said, faking unconcern. “Home, Morrisey.”

  “Get your butt up here, Dobbs,” Cal said, and Min laughed and got out of the car.

  When she was in the front seat and Cal had pulled out of the driveway, she said, “Is he okay?”

  “Sure,” Cal said. “Harry’s used to throwing up.”

  “I mean about the game.”

  “Yeah,” Cal said. “It’ll come back to haunt him at odd moments from now on but he’ll handle it. He got rescued. The people around him told him he was fine. And Bink will handle it for him at home. It’s just tough when it’s your dad telling you that you’re stupid.”

  “Yeah,” Min said, hating Jefferson Morrisey with a passion. “How are you doing?”

  “Me? I’m fine.”

  “Good,” Min said, and took a deep breath. She’d been on simmer for way too long. She had him alone, it was time for a plan. The smart thing to do would be to get everything out in the open, beginning with telling him she knew about the bet, discuss it li
ke adults, and then maybe she could jump him—

  “What?” Cal said into the silence.

  “What?” Min said, jerking back in guilt.

  “You went quiet,” Cal said. “Spill it.”

  “Oh.” Maybe a full frontal approach wasn’t the way to go. “Well,” Min said. “I was thinking . . .”

  “Uh huh,” Cal said.

  “. . . that we have some issues to, uh, settle. I think. I would like to settle them.”

  “Yes,” Cal said, sounding as if he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about but was willing to play along anyway.

  “Because I think . . . maybe . . . we could . . . you know . . . give this a shot,” she said. “If we talked.”

  Cal’s hands tightened on the wheel, but he kept his eyes on the road. “All right.”

  You’re not helping, Min thought. “Did you know that seventy-eight percent of couples keep secrets from each other?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Cal said.

  Min nodded.

  “You made that up, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Min said. “Although I bet it’s close. Is there something you’re not telling me? Something from . . .” She shrugged. “. . . oh, before you met me?”

  Cal didn’t say anything, and when she looked over he had that Oh, hell look on his face. “You already know,” he said, “or you wouldn’t ask.”

  “Well, yes,” Min said, every muscle she had tensing. Why’d you have to ask? All those people who say, “Just talk about it,” they’re idiots.

  “Min, it was years ago. My life was hell, and she was so great, and Reynolds was treating her like dirt—”

  What? Min thought, her stomach plummeting.

  Cal shook his head. “She’s a good person. I fell pretty hard.”

  “Oh,” Min said, and told herself, Next time be more specific about the confession you want, you dumbass.

  “Nothing happened, Min,” Cal said, glancing at her as he drove. “Bink isn’t a cheater, and as much as I want to smack my brother every time I see him, I wouldn’t do that to him. We just talked. A lot.”

  “Uh huh,” Min said, trying to sound bright and encouraging.

  “It was years ago,” Cal said. “She said I was the only person who didn’t care about her money. You’ve met her. You know what she’s like. She’s wonderful.”