One Big Happy Family

by Andrea Edwards

  Her heart—and her resolve—began to waver. She was no longer quite so sure that her feet were on the right road.

  “Poker’s over there and bingo’s this way,” Kevin was saying. “And I think there’s a blackjack table back there.”

  It would be fine, she told herself. She could enjoy his company and enjoy life. She didn’t need to think everything through a million ways just because she was having fun one evening.

  “Let’s do poker, then bingo,” she said. “We’ll save blackjack for last.”

  Laughing, they went from one game to another, arm in arm. They won more than they lost, but mostly Sam was just having a good time. Kevin was so easy to be with, so ready to laugh at her jokes and share her silences.

  Little by little he was opening up to her, too. She found out he had two kids—one about to be a college freshman and one a sophomore—who had lived mainly with their grandparents once his wife had gotten ill. She sensed there was distance between him and his kids—more than just the hundred or so miles down to Purdue; a distance he didn’t know how to cross.

  When the evening was winding down and prizes were being awarded to those turning in the most play money, she was conscious only of a sense of disappointment that it was over.

  “Look at this!” Fiona cried, joining Sam and Kevin at the table where they were turning in their money. “I won a door prize.” She held up an autographed football.

  “Cool, Fi,” Sam said. “Prissy and Elvis will love it.”

  “Prissy and Elvis?” Kevin asked.

  “Her cats.” Sam turned back to her sister. “I guess I’m not the only lucky one in the family.”

  “I always thought I was the lucky one,” Alex said, coming up behind Fiona and slipping his arms around her.

  “You just want my football,” Fiona teased, but her eyes grew soft with obvious love.

  Sam just looked away, conscious of a real burning in her heart. A yearning, for just a moment, to be the center of someone’s existence. It would come someday, she told herself. She just had other things to do first.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” a man on the stage called out. “We’ve totaled up the big money winners for the evening and we have some prizes to give away.”

  The crowd shifted to get a better view and Sam found herself standing in front of Kevin, leaning up against him while his arms lightly encircled her. It was just a temporary encircling, she thought. Just for this evening, she would let herself be the captive of his eyes.

  “The prize for the third most money won tonight goes to Miss Hattie Merrill.”

  “All right, Aunt Hattie!” Cassie called out as the older woman walked up to the stage.

  “We have a gift certificate from Reader’s Paradise for this lucky lady.”

  “Way to go, Aunt Hattie,” Sam cried, then looked up over her shoulder at Kevin. “Aunt Hattie’s been taking care of Cassie’s fiancé’s twins since they were babies. She’s really the nicest lady.”

  “What’s she going to do once Cassie and Jack marry?”

  “She says she’s moving out and finding a job. Cassie says she’s staying right there.”

  Kevin smiled. “So all you Scott women are rather pugnacious.”

  Sam gave him an offended look. “All but me.”

  He chuckled and tightened his hold. It felt too good.

  “Second prize for the evening’s winnings goes to Mickey Baylor.” There were some cheers and catcalling from the other side of the room as an older man climbed up onto the stage. “Mickey gets a gift certificate from Bobick’s Golf Shop.”

  Once Mickey had left the stage, the emcee frowned at the paper in his hands. “It seems we have a tie for first place. Our book of ten dinner coupons from Michiana-area restaurants was won by Samantha Scott and Kevin Delaney.”

  Sam felt her cheeks go fiery. They’d won ten dinners together! Her family crowded around her, laughing and calling teasing remarks.

  “I’m not sure how this happened,” the emcee said. “Perhaps we can split the prize. Give them each five dinners.”

  “Or they can just share the ten,” Cassie cried out.

  “Cassie!” Sam hissed at her, even as hands were pushing her and Kevin up onto the stage. “This is ridiculous,” she said to Kevin.

  “Hey, no big deal,” he said lightly. “It was your good luck. You can have them.”

  “No, we both won them,” she insisted.

  “Here you go,” the emcee said. “Are you two going to fight over the prize?”

  “Not at all,” Kevin replied. “The lady can invite anybody she chooses to share her dinners.”

  The emcee winked broadly at him before turning to the audience. “Anyone as long as it’s you, eh?”

  Everyone laughed, even Kevin, but Sam was finding it hard to breathe. It wasn’t the idea of winning, but that the idea of spending ten romantic dinners with Kevin was becoming obsessively appealing. Ten whole dinners alone together at some of the area’s best restaurants; long hours to talk and get to know each other.

  “And you said you weren’t lucky,” Fiona mocked.

  Sam started, realizing they’d come off the stage and were making their way toward the door. A few people were starting to clean up the games, but most of the crowd was on their way out.

  “Nice job, Sam,” someone said.

  “Lucky dogs,” someone else called out.

  Sam just stuck the gift certificates in her purse. “We’ll argue this out some other time,” she told Kevin.

  “Nothing to argue. It’s yours.”

  “You can have half, you know.”

  The ceiling lights were on in the lobby, all the pretend neon was lost in the glare. The magic was over with, the evening was done.

  It was just as well, Sam reflected as they walked in silence across the parking lot. This kind of explosive attraction was rife with problems and complications that she didn’t want right now, she kept reminding herself as Kevin drove her home. And besides, they hardly knew each other. So then, why did her heart feel heavy, as if Santa had skipped their house?

  “It was a nice evening,” she said, when he pulled his car to a stop in front of her house.

  “Yes, it was.”

  Sam turned to stare out the window. There were no hidden meanings in Kevin’s words. Sparks didn’t fly, threatening to engulf them. Whatever enchantment had almost captured them earlier was gone now.

  “Want to take a walk?” she asked him.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “Just let me run in and change my shoes.”

  Kevin waited on the porch, and she was back in a moment, ready for a pleasant end to a nice evening.

  Kevin took her hand and they walked down toward the lake. The air had a sharpness to it that made the stars seem more distant, more forbidding. They turned onto the path that ran alongside the shore, and followed it until they came to a dock a few hundred yards from the inn. They walked out onto the pier and leaned on the wooden rail at the end, staring down into the dark, still waters.

  “There’s something about the lake,” Sam said after a long silence. “It’s so peaceful. I’ve been feeling more like a river these days.”

  “That’s just how I’ve been feeling lately,” he said. “Like I’m rushing headlong into danger without a life preserver.”

  There was a new tremor in his voice, a hint of that earlier passion. She turned to find him watching her.

  He reached out, brushing back a curl from her face with infinite slowness. She took his hand before he could pull it away, and held it against her cheek, needing his touch but not having the words to say so. Her eyes met his. The intake of his breath was sharp and fast as he moved suddenly to pull her into his arms.

  Their lips met in a blinding flash of passion. The air that had caressed her cheeks with its warmth was chilly compared to the blazing heat that surrounded them. Sam couldn’t hold him close enough, couldn’t kiss him deep enough. Their tongues pushed and probed, pulsing to a basic rhythm that
was echoed in Sam’s pounding heart. It was as if the world had come to a halt, as if all life was suspended for the moment except their needs and passions.

  They pulled apart slowly, uncertainly. Their gazes were locked, their chests heaving. Her heart slowed enough so that the nighttime song of the crickets could be heard. But all she knew was the whirlpool depths of Kevin’s eyes. She was drawn to them, wanted to drown in their raying turmoil. Kevin turned to face the lake, gripping the wooden railing as if it was his lifeline.

  “So, Scarlett, think you can survive another burning of Atlanta?” he asked.

  Sam tried to steady her breathing. Consciously she paused between breaths until she could speak. “I don’t want this to be happening between us.” Her voice was uneven, light enough to be carried away on the breeze.

  “So we ignore it,” he said.

  “How?” She watched him in the pale light thrown from the houses across the way. He was holding himself rigidly in control, his hands still gripping the railing.

  “Just not see each other,” he said.

  His words were a quick stabbing of her heart, and a silent wail of pain rose from deep in her soul, even as she agreed it might be best. “What about those periodic checks you have to make on the inn?” she asked.

  He turned then, his shadowed eyes on her. “I forgot about those visits.” His gaze seemed to search her face, seeking the answer to some question she couldn’t put into words. He returned his gaze to the water as a car pulled into a driveway nearby. The sound of the motor died away. He sighed. “That makes it all the more complicated.”

  “Why?”

  “It just does,” he said. “We’re in business together, so to speak. If we went out socially, it could look like harassment or coercion.”

  “To who?” She wished she could see his eyes, really see into them and know what his heart was trying to say.

  “I don’t know,” he said. His voice was weary. “To me. To anybody. It would just make everything awkward.”

  “And it isn’t now?”

  He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, setting the sparks off again. But this time, she didn’t fly into his embrace and he didn’t sweep her into his arms. They just looked at each other, stared into the shadowy depths of the other’s soul as sparks singed the air between them.

  “We’d better go back,” Kevin said, and led her along to the path.

  Once they got to her yard, he dropped her arm. Although their shoulders were brushing, he made no move to touch her. Sam wrapped her arms around herself and trudged at his side. Her body was afire, wanting his touch, but not wanting it. She didn’t know how to sort out this craziness.

  He took her arm as they went up to her back porch. “I guess I was a bit of a caveman back there,” he said.

  She shrugged.

  Kevin stopped walking and turned her to face him. “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes stung and she blinked back sudden moisture. “Yes,” she finally said, then seemed to collapse into a sigh. “I don’t understand any of this. I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t have time for one. But if I’m so damned uninvolved, why is my heart racing so?”

  He put his arms around her, holding her close to him but somehow keeping the fires at bay. “We need to think about all this someplace where thought is possible. And that’s not out here in the dark alone with you.”

  She sighed into his chest. “I don’t see what there is to think about.”

  “This thing between us is too hot to play around with.”

  “Let’s be honest,” she said. “Neither of us want love, but obviously we’re attracted to each other. Aren’t we adult enough to enjoy the passion and avoid the entanglements?”

  “Love isn’t something you dictate. Your only defense against it is to avoid situations where it’s likely to grow.”

  Sam looked at him and saw his stubbornness. She kissed his cheek quickly, then stepped back before she could be caught in his spell again.

  “We need time,” she said. “I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

  She didn’t wait for his reply, but sped into the house. When his car had pulled away and the night was once more bathed in silence, she walked slowly up the stairs to the third floor. The room was drenched in moonlight as she stepped over to the windows and stared thoughtfully down at the lake.

  Chapter Four

  Kevin slowed the car and pulled onto State Road 17. It was a gorgeous August day—sunny and warm, with only a hint of fall. But he just frowned into the glare.

  He hadn’t slept much last night. Every time he’d drifted off, he’d felt the wonderful softness of Sam in his arms. Then he would jerk awake only to find that his lips were aching for her. Or that he longed to breathe in her gentle scent. Being awake didn’t help at all.

  In the middle of the night, with only the silent blinking of the clock for company, he and Sam seemed so possible. Not just possible, but right and necessary and the only sane course of action. Why was he hesitating? He was attracted to a beautiful young woman who was attracted to him.

  No rational man would think twice. No rational man would worry or question. What was twelve years’ difference? Or even thirteen? What mattered was a person’s spirit. His zest for life.

  Ah, there lay the problem. Did he still have the same zest for life he’d once had? Or had life and all its pain made him cautious and careful? An observer rather than a participant?

  He had lain awake most of the night, seeking answers in the breezes that rustled the leaves of the trees. Morning had been the only thing that had come.

  But somewhere around mid-morning, or maybe it was when he was heating up a can of soup for lunch, he’d suddenly known there could be no Sam and Kevin. It just wouldn’t be fair to her. She’d said she had too much to accomplish before she settled down, but if the right man came along, she would learn she could do both. But how would she recognize the right man if her attention was focused on him?

  He was glad that he had this barbecue to go to this afternoon, although it would awaken painful memories. But they were familiar memories, ones that belonged to him. And if he wasn’t particularly comfortable with them, at least he knew how to deal with them; knew their place in his life. And they helped him remember his place in the whole scheme of things.

  A sign came up. Plymouth—nine miles. Kevin just sighed and let the past wash over him.

  That summer six years ago had started on such a high. Everything had been going great. Stacy had been about to start high school in the fall and couldn’t wait; was planning her wardrobe and schedule and activities. Jon wasn’t all that excited about eighth grade, but he’d gotten a mountain bike for his birthday and was going to spend his free time exploring the county parks with his friends.

  It had started as a great summer for Debbie, too. She’d been accepted into the university’s creative-writing program and was anxious for the fall semester to begin.

  Then everything went down in flames. Just a few days before the Fourth of July, Debbie had gone in for a routine checkup.

  They all went into a state of shock when the diagnosis was dropped in their midst. Lymphoma. Cancer of the lymph glands.

  Kevin couldn’t believe it. He tried not to believe it. He wanted to take the whole family and run off to some tropical island in the South Pacific, as if putting distance between Debbie and the diagnosis would save her. But reality set in and he knew that their only chance was to start treatment immediately.

  The kids had wanted to stay and help, but Debbie couldn’t take that. She’d always been the strong one in the family, the one who’d taken care of everyone else. Having to endure radiation treatments and chemotherapy was hard enough, but appearing helpless in the eyes of her children was more than Debbie could bear.

  So the kids spent the summer with Debbie’s parents in Plymouth. It was less than an hour’s drive from their house; near enough to visit often but far enough to give Debbie the space she needed. And they would be back
together in the fall when school started.

  Fall came quickly but so did more treatments, and it didn’t seem right to bring the kids home. So Stacy and Jon started school in Plymouth.

  It seemed there was always something. The days were filled with one crisis after another, and there was barely enough time to breathe. By the time Debbie died, Stacy was a junior and sports editor on the school paper, in the glee club and drama club, and on the softball team. Jon was a sophomore, and the track and basketball teams, the only sophomore on the varsity squad. It didn’t seem right to pull them out of what had become their community. Besides, Kevin needed some time to heal himself.

  As it turned out, the time had never been right to transfer the kids to South Bend, and both of them graduated from Plymouth High School. Stacy had been the valedictorian of her class and Jon had received the Kiwanas award for outstanding student athlete in his senior year. Debbie would have been proud.

  Kevin sighed as he turned into his in-laws’ neighborhood, an old tree-lined area on the west side of downtown Plymouth. He had hoped that the kids could spend this summer with him—kind of a last thing before they really went off on their own, to give them all a chance to catch up with each other. Stacy was going into her sophomore year at Purdue University and Jon would be a freshman there.

  But Stacy got a chance to work with a summer-theater group at the university and Jon, along with a part-time job in the athletic department, wanted to go to summer school. Kevin wasn’t going to stand in their way.

  So now all they had was a day. One afternoon—before school started—to get caught up with their lives.

  Maybe that was why he’d been mopey these past few weeks, he thought. His kids were almost grown and had lives of their own. Lives in which he was only a peripheral player, at most.

  Kevin parked at the curb and slowly made his way to the back of the house. Debbie’s parents lived in one of the newer homes on the street, a sprawling ranch built back in the early sixties. The trees and bushes were all mature and a profusion of color provided a testimonial to his mother-in-law’s green thumb.