by Cajio, Linda
She wasn't amused. "That figures."
"I was joking." He paused, then decided he should play his ace. That was bound to make her happier with him. "Joey's bringing the gifts over in the morning."
She glanced at him again, although in a barely interested manner. "He is?"
Richard nodded. "He talked to me about asking you to a soccer game at his school."
She bolted upright. "What! You didn't say anything stupid, did you, Uncle Richard?"
Richard straightened happily, knowing he was on solid ground. "No, I didn't. I'm not that dumb. You'll be happy to know I told him it would be okay with me if he asked you to go."
"Uncle Richard!" she wailed, horror in her voice. "You didn't."
Richard gaped at her in bewilderment. "What's wrong with that?"
"He didn't ask me and now he won't!" She leaped from the chair and ran out of the room.
Richard slumped. "When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?" he muttered. "Especially when I didn't know I opened it?"
A few moments later he got up. He'd wronged Amanda - somehow - justified or not. He needed to tell her he was sorry. He'd also wronged Callie over the invitation. Well, no, he hadn't; her sister had. Still, he owed Callie an apology, too.
He dialed her number. When she answered, he said, "Hi, it's Richard. I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"No." She said nothing else. He wished he knew if she was in her nightgown, ready for bed. Did she wear a gown or pajamas? Baby dolls. She had to be the baby-doll type.
He got hold of his wandering libido. "I wish I'd had control over the housewarming guest invitations because I would have done more than assumed someone I actually liked would be invited. In fact, you would have been first on the list."
She chuckled. "Was it that bad?"
' 'I could have used an interpreter for all those square jaws." He sighed. "I thought you would be there, and I am not happy you weren't."
"Don't worry about it." Her voice sounded warmer.
"I knew you were naive and probably not on the same wavelength, although you were sweet about it. My sister's a nice woman, but she doesn't think sometimes. I love her, anyway."
"But I invited you. You should have come."
"Well...I thought it might be better not to after I talked with Gerri earlier in the day and she didn't say anything about the party."
"It's my fault," he said, thinking he should have yelled like a drill sergeant at Gerri. That might have gotten the message across to the woman.
"It's not your fault, idiot, although you might not be so generous when I tell you I got you two totally useless horse-head bookends that glow in the dark."
"I'll cherish them forever." He meant it, too. "Will you come over for dinner tomorrow?"
"Urn..." She hesitated.
"Please. I'd like a friend. I need one. You can protect me from Amanda."
"Oh, Lord. What did you do now?"
"Nothing. I think. And everything, so I'm told," he said, and filled her in. "So when Joey asked me, I said it was okay by me if Amanda wanted to go. You'd have thought I was the chief torturer at the Inquisition when I told her. What did I do wrong?"
Callie chuckled. "Teenagers hate even the idea that they're under any kind of parental control, let alone to have it acknowledged to their peers. Especially to peers they're attracted to."
"Don't say that part."
Callie laughed this time. "Richard, that's what it's all about when you're that age. Amanda is a teenager, plain and simple."
"I think those are the most frightening words after
'nuclear explosion,'" he said. "Although, I thought it was really polite of Joey to ask me first."
"He's a good kid, despite some of Gerri's nonsense. Matter of fact, you should tell Amanda that."
"I will." He thought of his conversation with Joey. "Hey, is there something wrong with the public school here? I researched the school systems thoroughly before I moved here, but Joey tells me none of the other kids in the development go to the local school."
"I've heard nothing and, believe me, I would have. My sister sends her kids to private school because it's trendy, not for any other reason. Like the material girl she is. Gerri needs to have a show of wealth all the time to prove she's not poor anymore. Everyone has a quirky holdover from their childhood. But as far as the school goes, don't worry about it."
"I don't want to move Amanda or Jason. They've seemed to settle in okay. Since the school system's excellent, I truly don't see the point. But I don't want them to be outcasts, either."
"You're a good uncle."
Her words meant more than anything he'd heard in a long long time. "Thanks. I only wish Amanda thought so. I can't seem to do anything right."
"She's thirteen. No parent can."
"Can I do anything right with you?" he asked softly.
"Oh..." Her voice faltered as if he'd set off an unexpected spark. He hoped so. Talking to her about child-raising held an unexpected intimacy for him. Finally she said, "You do okay."
"I'll do much better," he promised.
"And, Richard...I'll see you tomorrow."
When he hung up the phone, he admitted he liked keeping her off balance.
He planned to keep her even more so.
"I shouldn't be doing this," Callie muttered, pulling into Richard's driveway the next evening.
She stopped in front of the house itself, halfway around the horseshoe drive. The house's elegant, French-chateau facade was miles above her boxlike apartment complex. She bet the inside was to die for. Yet the formality was an odd place for a guy to bring three kids to live. She would have thought someplace less structured and formal-looking would have been more suitable.
Her nephew, Joey, came around the side of the house with Amanda. The pair weren't talking, but walking side by side with just enough distance between them to indicate interest and insecurity.
Callie smiled as she got out of the car. Oh, most definitely a mutual crush, she thought. "Hi, guys. How's it going?"
"Hi, Aunt Callie," Joey said, looking surprised. "Oh, yeah. You're having dinner here, too."
Amanda blushed furiously. "I asked him."
Callie grinned at her. "Great. He's very cute, isn't he?"
"Aunt Callie!" Now Joey blushed furiously.
"Well, you are. And if you're lucky, then Amanda thinks so, too. What's on the dinner menu? Anybody know yet? Do we have to make a great escape for pizza?"
"Japanese," Amanda replied, her blush lessening. "If my uncle doesn't mess up."
"I'll make sure he doesn't." Callie wondered what kind of cook he was. Probably hopeless, helpless and sexy there, too.
As the two teens led her into the house, she knew she probably shouldn't have come to dinner. Her sister's lack of follow-up invitation had hurt, and Richard's apology had soothed her. Accepting his dinner invitation was partly from vulnerability and partly from the desire to flaunt him under her sister's nose. That Joey was eating here, too, would only rub Gerri's social climbing the wrong way. Her son and her sister, but not her. Maybe it would wake Gerri up enough to show some true manners from now on. Maybe.
The quick look at the downstairs rooms they passed reassured her. The house was big, and the furnishings sparse. Toys and papers were scattered everywhere, giving the place the lived-in look of any normal child-harassed household. Not perfection, not even close. She needed to see that, she thought. Or maybe not.
Richard stood among the steaming pots, expertly flipping strips of meat with tongs. He grinned at her and wiped his brow. "Hi."
"Hi yourself." She held up a couple of perfectly nice horse-head bookends. "Here's your housewarming gift. The batteries died so they don't glow in the dark anymore."
"I'm disappointed." He chuckled. "Hey, they are nice. Thank you."
"You're welcome." She'd been pleased to find something male and dignified.
A loud banging exploded from behind the cooking island.
"That's just Mark, th
e Emeril Lagassi of the toddler world," he shouted above the din. "Kid's been back here for an hour having a ball."
"That's all that counts," Callie said, laughing wryly. Richard wasn't hopeless and helpless in the kitchen. At least he was still sexy. He had the best of the three going for him. "Need some help?"
"No, no. Yes. I won't lie. Could you watch the soba noodles while I do the vegetables? Both need major attention, more than a convict on parole."
"Sure."
Callie came around the island. Mark sat on the floor surrounded by every pot and pan Richard wasn't using. The child stacked and restacked a set of plastic bowls, then banged a pan on the floor several times as a reward for his good work.
"Foo! Foo! Foo!" he shouted happily.
"Give him a set of bars and a tin cup to run back and forth across them, and you'd have the next Jimmy Cag-ney," Callie commented.
"He thinks he's cooking." Richard hollered, "Amanda! Go find Jason and tell him it's dinner in five minutes. By the time you find him, it will be."
Amanda looked murderous. She probably didn't want Joey to know she had to look after her brother, Callie thought, remembering the time a boy she'd liked had been scared off by her responsibilities. They just weren't cool.
"Joey, make yourself useful and go with her," Callie said to the boy.
"Sure, Aunt Callie." The boy looked happy to help. Young love did that.
After the pair left, Richard cleared his throat loudly. "Joey's a nice boy."
"Yes, he is." Callie didn't look up from the soba pot.
"Do you think she's too young to...to be around a boy like that?" he asked.
Callie shrugged. "Hard to say."
"Okay." Richard looked bewildered.
Callie shook her head. "Look, they're both pretty young, so I'd be surprised if it went beyond holding hands and an occasional peck on the lips."
"I don't even want that," he exclaimed.
Callie laughed. "Richard, you're sure to make it worse if you don't relax. She has a crush, her first probably, on a boy who's got his first crush, too."
"Okay." He shook himself. "I'm relaxed."
"Yeah, like a wolverine's relaxed. You need to talk to Amanda about sex."
"Oh, God! Can't I have one normal conversation with the kid?"
"Nan. She's a teenager. Look, you want her to respect her body, right?" "Lord, yes." Mark banged pots.
"And you want her to know what to do if a boy ever pressures her in the future." "Is there no end to this?"
"Foo! Foo! Foo!" the next Jimmy Cagney shouted.
"You want her to know these things ahead of time, before her first real date."
Richard paused. "That makes sense."
"Of course it does. Better to do it before she's doing more than walking around the house with a boy. Talk to her about the emotional side of sex, not so much the mechanics. She probably knows that part. Heck, Jason probably knows that, too."
"Great. Another one in the wings."
"Actually I thought Joey and Amanda looked sweet together," Callie said, pulling out a soba noodle with a fork to test for doneness. It needed more time.
"You did?"
"Mmm-hmm. You know, this is fraught with danger for my nephew. A boy's first crush can devastate him if it goes badly."
"That's true. Mine dumped me for a kid on the basketball team. It took me six months to get over it."
"She was a fool," Callie said.
He turned her toward him. "I'm glad you think so. But I like my latest crush much much better."
Callie looked into his gorgeous brown eyes. She couldn't not look. His lambent gaze fascinated her. His lips closed the distance in the most innocent and yet exotic of kisses. His mouth plied hers, seeking a mutual response. She could taste his scent, imprinting its uniqueness on her brain. She could feel his breath hot on her cheek. She could hear his search for air to fill his lungs. She could smell the burning of his passion....
It reminded her of bad broccoli.
They broke apart just as the pan of vegetables turned black. Richard yanked the pan from the stovetop, rescuing it before a fire actually started. But nothing edible could be salvaged.
"Damn!" he cursed, looking disgusted.
"Oh, no," Callie murmured, realizing the boiling soba noodles had mined to a lump of glue.
She and Richard looked at each other. "Pizza."
Richard kissed her again, this time hard and fierce, his tongue swirling with hers in the sudden heat that gripped them both.
When he finally eased his mouth away, he said, "Might as well be in for a lion as for a lamb."
Callie panted for breath, her head dizzy. He would be in for something if she didn't watch herself. Boy, did she have to watch herself.
Callie called in the pizza order while Richard cleaned up the Japanese-dinner mess. The kids, no surprise, were delighted with the change.
"Don't tell Mom," Joey said to Callie. "She thinks pizzeria pizza is too oily and has lots of fat."
"No sweat," Callie replied. She winked at Joey.
Joey grinned.
Anything to take her mind off Richard's disturbing kiss, she admitted. Both disturbing kisses. They had shaken her to her toes, each in its own way. She tried to keep her emotions in balance, but like Amanda, she was all too aware of the male and all too gooey-eyed in his presence.
She did bounce back to earth a bit when Richard discovered he didn't have enough cash in the house to cover the bill. The delivery person wouldn't take a credit or debit card.
Callie sighed and got the cash from her purse. "You really know how to treat a girl right, my friend."
He looked humiliated. "I'm sorry. I haven't had a chance to go to the bank lately."
"I'm teasing you," she said, giggling. "But you are one heck of an interesting date."
He laughed wryly, finally seeing the humor in the situation. "Boy, I am a hot date, all right. A hot potato you ought to drop."
"I'll hang in there - until I get my money back." She saw his face. "I'm teasing, I'm teasing. You don't have to repay me."
"That wasn't the part that worried me."
Callie regained her equilibrium during dinner. The kids were great, just themselves, and that made the meal easier. She liked the simple fare, the uncluttered attitude and the general company. The meal Richard had originally planned, while more elegant, wouldn't have been as much fun. Right now she could have been back home in the small row house with her brothers and sisters. She liked the feeling, even though she didn't want to.
When the kids split for other venues, she and Richard lingered over after-dinner sodas yet again. Her lot on dates with him, she thought in amusement. But her curiosity about him got her.
"Tell me what a diplomat does," she said.
"Mostly I go out to the airport and make sure the entry paperwork for a shipment isn't screwed up," he replied. "I also pay bills here in Philadelphia as necessary for the country I represent. I help any businesspeo-ple traveling through the region. Once I had to straighten out hotel reservations when a troupe of Balinese dancers appeared at the Spectrum."
"Is Indonesia your country?" she asked. She wasn't sure whether she was awed by the exotic idea of his being a diplomat or deflated by its reality.
"Only one of them. I actually represent most of the Micronesian states now." He chuckled. "I import from them, and after I gave an old office telephone system to Fiji, they asked me to be the local consul for them. Many countries tap someone they know in a city to be consul, usually someone who does business with them or has family connections in the old country. After Fiji, more and more Pacific Rim countries came to me. They made a kind of business conglomerate of the post after that. I pretty much cover them all."
"Wow. Do you go over there often?"
"A couple times a year for my own business, but sometimes for diplomatic reasons. I import and export goods, mostly clothes and furnishings. And chili mix. People in Sumatra are big on Southwest chili. Don't ask me w
hy."
She sighed with envy. "You've been around the world, and I haven't been farther than Disney World."
"That's like being on another planet," Richard said, laughing.
"True."
"What do you do at the County Office on Aging?" he asked. 'I was surprised by that. I would have thought you'd be a teacher or a child-care worker. You're really good with kids."
Callie waved a hand in dismissal. "I love kids, but I've also had enough of them, believe me. Since I was the oldest of six, I had to raise my brothers and sisters. My parents aren't rich - you saw that. I told you about Gerri's quirk. Mine is working with older folks. They're on the opposite end of the caregiving, which is refreshing.
"What do you do there?"
She liked that he was curious about her, too. It felt nice to have a man interested in her. "Lots of paperwork mostly. I help people find housing and nursing care or point them to other resources they need. I track statistics, local and federal, make reports, write grants and get federal funding however I can. It's a glorified secretarial position."
"I bet it's never dull."
Callie chuckled. "Most people think it is. And sometimes it truly is, but not often. Usually I'm run off my feet."
"You have classes, too, at night. You mentioned them. Are they related to the job?"
He had a wonderful habit of focusing in on her face, as if anything she did or said was of immense importance to him. What a gem, she thought. A gem with exactly the kind of baggage she didn't need. "I'm also finally going to college. At night. It'll take me about eight years to get my degree in liberal arts, but I'm getting it."
He grinned. "Wow. So you didn't go right after high school?"
"I couldn't." She shrugged. "I had a scholarship to Temple, but I had to help my family, so I couldn't go then."
"That's obscene!" Richard exclaimed, outraged. "Why couldn't the next oldest take over or something?"
"There was more to it than that," she said. "It was just a tuition scholarship, so it only covered half the cost. We didn't know other tricks to make college more affordable. Lots of things that I eventually learned for my brothers and sisters I didn't know for me at the time." She shrugged again, then smiled. "College won't be handed to me, Richard, and so it'll be all the sweeter when I graduate."