by Cajio, Linda
"Bring the kids to my house anytime," Michael volunteered. "Six or nine makes no difference, believe me.
"Thanks," Richard said, grateful for the offer. "What we're saying, Richard," Michael finished, "is don't worry about where you're going with a woman. If she's unsure but worth fighting for, then fight for her for all you're worth. If it's love, you won't have to fight. It'll work out in the end. Just hang in there for the duration."
The others chimed in with advice. "Fighting love is totally useless." "Just lie down like a lamb to the slaughter. It'll save you a lot of aggravation." "It's our family motto."
"Ah...guys," Richard said hesitantly. "What you're basically telling me is that despite being married, none of you has a clue about women."
"That's about the size of it," Jared replied.
He spoke for the group.
Chapter Eleven
"I'm still dead."
Callie knew the voice before she saw the face. Lester Jones. She'd been so absorbed in creating her latest statistical spreadsheet that she hadn't heard him enter her office.
"You can't be," she said. "I fixed it. Twice."
"You didn't fix it good enough, girly, 'cause my bank still says I ain't among the living."
"But I talked to them," she protested, outraged. "Sit down and I'll get this straightened out with them once and for all."
As he sat in a visitor's chair, she looked up the information card she'd made for him. She dialed his bank. When she got hold of the manager, she reminded the woman of their previous conversation.
"Yes, I remember," the woman said. "I took care of that."
"Lester says he's still dead to the bank," Callie replied. "He's sitting in my office right now, I assure you. And spitting nails. Could you check for me? I'll hold."
The woman agreed. When she came back on the line, she said in a puzzled voice, "I don't know what happened, but he wasn't corrected in our computer system. I know I did it. Oh, well. It's fixed now."
"Thank you," Callie said, hanging up. To Lester she said, "Okay. You're fixed."
"Ha!" the man scoffed. She couldn't blame him for being dubious. He added, "What about the rest of my life, honey? You fix that as good as the bank?"
Callie sighed, wondering herself if the other agencies she'd dealt with on his behalf had done as they'd promised. "I'll check and call you tomorrow."
"I'll just wait here until you do." Lester wiggled his butt further into the chair, looking as though he wouldn't be moving anytime soon.
Callie eyed him and frowned. He frowned and eyed her back. His stubbornness was almost palpable. She knew she'd lose the staring contest and conceded. "I'll try to get an answer today."
But she had her own call to make first.
When Richard answered his telephone, she said, "Hi. I have bad news."
"You're not canceling on me, are you?" he asked grimly. "I'll drag you out on this date if I have to, Callie."
She chuckled, liking his determination. At least one of them didn't have doubts. "What did you do? Take a caveman pill?"
"Not yet, but I have a feeling I'll have to with you."
She smiled, not able to help herself. It was nice to have a man go primitive. "Actually I called to say I'll be late, so why don't I come straight to your house, instead of you picking me up?"
She was still leery about the idea of exploring a relationship with him, but felt she'd be ultimately better off getting Richard out of her system, rather than won-idering for the rest of her life if she'd made a mistake.
"What's wrong? Why will you be late?"
"Nothing's wrong. I just need to finish a few things here that can't be put off."
Lester cackled, his expression pleased.
"Okay," Richard said. "What time will you be here?" '
"I'm not sure. That's why I want to go to your house. I hope it doesn't mess up reservations."
"The place I have in mind is flexible."
"Good." Lester motioned for her to hurry up with the call. Callie grimaced but asked Richard, "By the way, when I was sick, didn't you call someone you knew in the government to have my friend Lester Jones brought back to fife?"
"The Lazarus guy? Sure. They promised to take care of it. Why?"
"I was just checking, because his bank messed up and didn't correct the situation."
"Is he why you're still at the office?" "Yep."
"Is he planted there with you?" "Yep."
"Wanna take him on the date, too?" "We might have to."
"Just get here as fast as you can - without Mr. tfones."
"My thoughts exactly." She hung up.
"Got a hot date, honey?" Lester asked. "You just mind your own business," Callie said, "or your bank won't be making a mistake, okay?" Lester sniffed indignantly. "No need to get huffy. I was just asking. He's a nice young fella. Doubt he could, find his way out of a paper bag, but nice and polite." "Yes, he is," Callie agreed.
She admitted she liked Richard's eagerness to see her. He was good-looking, virile and intelligent, and he wanted her. All tempting lures she found less and less strength to resist.
She straightened out Lester's problem as far as she could while offices were still open, disgusted to discover his pension agency had somehow erred and he was still off their records. The veterans' administration had messed up, too, on his disability. She didn't hold out much hope for the others, but Lester was temporarily satisfied and willing to go home.
After he left, Callie freshened her makeup. She decided her pink satin blouse with the Chinese collar and black suit she'd worn all day would see her through the evening. She resisted the urge to rush home and dress in her fanciest clothes for Richard. The less she preened, the more simple the date would be. She needed simple, for she was nervous, skeptical that officially seeing him was right for her. Wishing she could blame her shift in attitude on her sister's comments, she admitted she couldn't. A part of her was eager for this date, to try for the impossible.
When Richard answered his door, she nearly ran back to her car. He looked so good in his gray suit and dark shirt that she didn't trust herself to get through the evening without falling into bed with him. His maroon paisley tie drew her gaze to the hard wall of his chest. Her blood slowed and heated, throbbing in her veins.
"Hi," he said innocently, yet sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. "You look terrific."
She found her voice. "You do, too."
"Come in for a minute while I get my keys."
She stepped inside. He closed the door just as she I realized the house was silent. "Where are the kids?"
"At my cousin Michael's," he replied, taking his keys I from the catchall bowl on the foyer table. "Remember meeting Jared at the ball? He put me in touch with my other cousins. They're... different, I'll say that. Michael married a woman with six kids."
"God help her oldest," Callie said automatically.
"I think the situation there is different from yours," Richard replied. "Janice, Michael's wife, is an accountant who works out of home. Anyway, the kids are over there this evening. Heather, the oldest, is a teenager, too. She and Amanda seemed to like each other. They were talking about school."
Callie smiled. "Good."
"The triplets are about the same age as Jay."
"Oh, Lord." The thought of four Jasons chilled her - and she liked Jason.
"Little Amy took Mark under her wing. She's a charmer." He grinned. "I actually found a baby-sitter, Callie. That's a major victory for me."
"For tonight." She wanted to be with him alone and deliberately stepped to the door, opening it. "I hope we're going somewhere with dinner in it. I'm starved. If not, just hit a fast-food drive-through, and I'll be a happy woman."
He laughed. "Fortunately I planned well for dinner, so you'll actually get a meal without a wait. I hope."
"That's what I hope, too."
The restaurant was Italian, with dark cozy corners, marvelous food and enough space between tables to encourage intimat
e exchanges. Callie tried not to succumb to the ambience. She was off the hook for the moment since Richard preferred to talk about the kids rather than sex.
"Richard," she said when he finished his tale of Jason's latest prank. "I love your family but this date should be a test to see where we're going. We need to focus on ourselves. The kids just suck me in - they're my weakness. I think we should make a rule that we won't talk about them for the rest of the night."
Richard raised his eyebrows. "You don't want to talk about the kids?"
"No, I do," she said. "That's the problem. We need to talk about us. What you're doing. What I'm doing. What we like and dislike. What our dreams are...."
"I know yours." He nodded. "Okay, you may be right about the kids. So how's school?"
"It's going well, now that I'm caught up with my work." She stopped, having nothing else to say on the subject.
"How long do you have before you graduate?"
"Another eight credits." She smiled, having something else to say on said subject.
"Wow." He looked impressed. He should, she thought. It had taken her years to get to this point. "You could earn that in one year."
"If I were going to school full-time," she replied. "It'll probably take me another two with night school. I can only carry one course during a semester, two if I'm lucky."
He leaned forward. "Have you considered scaling back on your workload or finding a job with more flexible hours so you can attend school full-time? It would be worth the sacrifice."
"I'm sacrificing now." He had no idea how consuming work and school could be without piling on more.
"I have to be able to eat, Richard. The job I have now pays extremely well. It allows me to be on my own, something I'm not willing to give up even for school."
He smiled slyly. "You know you still work for me, and I'm a very flexible boss."
"That was a technicality while you were sick." Lord, she thought, trying to imagine working in the same room with him for hours at a time and not making love. It couldn't be done. Right now, even though their conversation wasn't meshing, she wanted nothing more than to shut him up with a kiss. He'd be dinner for her - and dessert. Who needed food? Pulling her thoughts back, she said, "What does my working for you for those few days have to do with anything?"
He shrugged a little too nonchalantly. "I was thinking that if we made it permanent, you could go to school full-time. I probably can't pay what you're used to - after all, you work for the government - but I'd be extremely flexible. Night hours, for example..."
Unfortunately night hours appealed more than he would ever know. The offer of work was sweet; she had no doubt he meant it. No one in her family had ever suggested they would be willing to support her while she went to school. "Thank you, but no. The object of college is only to finish school, not finish in record time."
"Too bad." He grinned. "I liked having a secretary."
"You were so out of it you didn't even know you had a secretary until I told you you did." She grinned back at him. "My turn for questions. How did you get into the export business?"
"My roommate in college was from Fiji. Ronnie Uvatu. His dad brought over Fijian art for collectors when he visited. I fell into the business through him, then began importing more commercial items, like fruit, toys and such. Everything grew so fast from there that I left college to handle the business full-time. I bought out Ronnie's dad, and the rest is Holiday Imports."
"So you just point to something and say, Til import that'?"
He chuckled. "Sort of. It's guessing at trends, believe me. I bombed with the electric kettle. That was my foray into the big time."
"An electric kettle?"
He nodded. "Micronesian countries use them like crazy, so I thought well, hell, if they're big in the tropics, they'll be big here. They weren't. They still aren't, even though I see them in catalogs sometimes. I took a bath on 30,000 for this area alone. A hot bath."
She groaned. "Bad joke."
"No kidding. I stuck with past success and bounced back with the Australian fascination. Americans love Crocodile Dundee. And frozen New Zealand lamb."
"You import that?" she asked, surprised.
"I'm the paperwork man for a food distributor here in Philadelphia."
"No wonder my food bill's so horrendous. I had no idea such layers existed in getting a lamb chop." Clearly he was aggressive and thrived on working for himself. She admired that. "How are you doing with the job and suddenly having to raise three kids?"
"Can't tell you. Your rules."
She stared at him for a full moment, nonplussed by his refusal. Then she realized what he meant. "Oh, that's okay. You can answer."
He shook his head. "Rephrase the question."
She groaned. "When did you get a law degree?"
"I was a big 'L.A. Law' fan. Actually I was taking pre-law for my college major. Come on, you can ask the question in a different way."
"All right. How is it going with your current situation?"
"Barely managing."
"Oh." She felt bad. He had two overwhelming tasks and was trying to handle them simultaneously. "Can I help?"
"No."
His tone held a finality that offended her, as if she wasn't good enough to touch either his business or his kids. "Pardon me for offering."
He laughed. "You sound like I just told you that your dress clashes with your shoes. I said no because your life is busy enough, too busy. And you've already been a tremendous help. Don't worry, I'll manage. I think I'm beginning to get the hang of it."
She looked heavenward. "Richard, you are hanging on by your fingertips. Amanda's very fragile emotionally, and she's a teen. No other recipe for possible disaster is necessary. She could erupt at any moment. Jason's a bundle of energy with no place to put it, and Mark has fallen backward in the toilet-training department. You need help."
"Yeah, but we can't talk about it at dinner." He smiled smugly.
Callie eyed him, resisting the urge to strangle him for throwing her own words back at her. "We can now. I just decreed it."
"Actually I was enjoying getting to know what you're doing with school. We haven't even talked about your major yet. What is it?"
She waved a hand in dismissal. "Forget me. I'm not interesting."
"I think you are."
"Richard, you need help with the kids. Now why don't you just admit it?"
"I may need help, but you won't be the helper. You have other things to do. But I do find it interesting that your offer to help is automatic. Think about it, Callie."
"I..." She paused, recognizing he was right. Despite her adamant order to speak only about themselves, she had brought up the children. She found them more important to talk about than her courses or her job, or his. Worse, she now argued to allow her help with the kids.
Maybe she needed to look further inside herself, find out what was really in there.
"I feel guilty about the kids."
Richard glanced up from his after-dinner coffee, surprised by Callie's admission.
She set her coffee cup down and sighed. "It's not right for us to be out having a nice dinner without them."
She had been quiet after their discussion about whether or not she could help with the kids. He'd won that battle, but now it was clear her concerns had coalesced in another fashion. What a romantic date.
"They're probably having a great time getting to know their second cousins," he replied. "We're supposed to be here, getting to know each other."
"I know, I know. But what if they're not having a good time?" she asked logically, her gaze earnest. "Amanda's all over the place emotionally when she's at home, let alone when she's stressed out. Jason could barely let you be sick without panicking. And Mark's only two. Enough said there. We've just about finished dinner. Let's go get them."
"You make it sound like they're Little Orphan Annies at Miss Flanagan's." Richard grimaced. "First, you don't want to talk about them, then you want to talk about
them, then you feel guilty about not taking them to dinner."
"I know, I know," she repeated, then sighed. "Don't you feel the least guilty leaving them with strangers?"
Richard thought about it for a second. "No."
"Richard! How can you say that?"
"Because they're with family. Granted, I haven't seen Michael in years, but he offered the other day, and I felt it was right. I know my brother saw Michael occasionally, the others, too, and he liked them. Michael's got six stepkids. He never would have offered to watch mine for a night if he didn't like kids, now would he? Stop sweating it."
"This must be a man thing," she said in disgust.
"What's a man thing?"
"Anything that women don't understand."
"Maybe, Callie, you ought to rethink yourself," he said, feeling pressured because he didn't feel guilty. "Why are you worried about the kids when they're not even yours?"
"I know they're not mine." Her voice trembled with anger. "I never thought you would say something like that."
He reached across the table and took her hand. "I didn't mean to offend you. I love it that you care about the kids. I know they love it, too. I also know you're afraid of ties that keep you from your goals. What I was saying so poorly was that you shouldn't have to feel guilty, because they're not your responsibility. Right now I'm feeling guilty because you feel guilty, and yet I don't feel guilty. Boy, are we screwed up."
She laughed. "I think you're right." "So why exactly do you feel guilty?" She made a face.
He gazed at her sternly. "We've had two fights and a veal parmigiana."
"We didn't fight. Not really. We just disagreed."
He chuckled. "You really are confused. Finish your coffee and we'll go get the kids. Knowing you, you'll hound me until we do."
Her relieved smile almost had him laughing. Still, he wondered what her contradictions meant. Hope, an emotion he wanted to believe, said the contradictions meant she cared, possibly cared deeply, for him and his family. Despair said they meant she didn't find him interesting enough for one evening without his niece and nephews. Common sense told him her state of mind might be good or it might not.
Richard set aside his thoughts, since they might confuse him, and finished his coffee. He kept the conversation light on the ride to Michael's. Callie seemed more animated, as if she was looking forward to seeing the kids. That wouldn't surprise him after what her brother had told him regarding her need to nurture. If his hope was right, then he had seen it refuse to be tamped down tonight, no matter how much she tried to force it back.