Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She GoesA Promise for the BabyThat Summer at the Shore

by Janice Kay Johnson

  He obeyed, shocked that his sunny, joking baby sister was talking to him this way.

  “And don’t look so surprised. Anyway, I’m not belittling your devotion to your job, just questioning the reasons you always give for it. All of us assumed your life was motivated by justice, when it’s actually motivated by duty.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how we were all fooled for so long. It’s never been justice that made you come to Mom’s for family dinners or go to Mass every Sunday. You think it’s your duty to come to family dinners because Leon can’t and to go to Mass because Dad can’t. You come to Babka for dinner out of a sense of responsibility for me. And worst of all, you didn’t marry Jessica because you loved her, but because you thought you had a duty to marry a Polish Catholic girl.”

  Karl sipped his wine, though it could have been vinegar for as much as he tasted it. “Everything you’ve said may be true, but you didn’t say anything about why I go to work every day. I do that because I believe bribery, waste and corruption hurts everyone in Chicago. If Bauer had done his job, the Willis children might still be alive.”

  “You’ve made a compelling argument for your duty to the memory of the Willis children.” He blinked and she smiled in response. “I’ll even prove I’m right.”

  “I’ll admit you’ve articulated your point neatly, but I don’t know how you intend to prove it.”

  She smiled brightly. “I bribed two health inspectors so that I could keep Babka open.”

  He blinked again. “You shouldn’t lie just to prove your point. I’ll think about what you said.”

  “Oh, I’m not lying.” That gaping smile was still on her face. “Exaggerating maybe, but not lying. You can ask Dan. Steve hid a rat in my kitchen and called the health inspectors on me. Dan took the rat to his house and I bargained with the health inspectors to keep Babka open.”

  Paulie the rat. Karl sipped his expensive, tasteless wine and processed what Tilly was telling him. He’d always assumed that pet was some joke of Dan’s, but if what Tilly was saying was true, a city worker had let a health code violation slide for his sister. A small infraction—it wasn’t as though Tilly ran a dirty restaurant—and she’d had an employee trying to get her restaurant closed, but he had stated on record that no infraction should slide. But, small or not, what she’d done was unethical, if not illegal.

  “Why are you telling me this?” He’d have preferred not to know any of this. If he ever investigated the health inspectors’ office, this information was too juicy not to come out in some exaggerated form and then he’d have to think about Tilly’s restaurant and the legacy she’d given their grandmother and how intertwined it was with his public stance on corruption, no matter how small.

  “If you’re motivated by a hatred of corruption in all its forms, you’re thinking about whether or not your office should investigate the health inspectors’ office. If you’re motivated by duty, you’re trying to figure out if duty ties you to your family or to your office.”

  He harrumphed because she was right. “What do my motivations have to do with you sticking your nose in my business?”

  “With my nosiness?” She shrugged and then leaned against the bar, her face close to his and sisterly love in her eyes. “Only that I feel like I have new insight into my big brother. But I’m telling you this because you might find insight into why Vivian’s not packing her bags to move in with you.”

  He was sick of being lectured, but he was also sick of living alone with Xìnyùn for his only company. “Okay, siostra. How will this help me?”

  She pulled back to look at him, her arms folded and her eyes glowing with pleasure. And, if he were being honest with himself, amusement. “I can imagine you asking Vivian to move back in with you because it’s your duty as a husband to live with your pregnant wife.” She tsked at him. “Those are sexy words.”

  “This conversation was bearable so long as you weren’t being sarcastic.” He hated to insult the mother of his child but... “Anyway, shall we go back to the beginning? Remember, Vivian was fired from her job at the casino because she couldn’t prove she didn’t commit a felony.”

  “The casino couldn’t prove that she did. Innocent until proven guilty.”

  “She shouldn’t have even considered cheating.” He pushed his empty wineglass down the bar toward the bartender.

  “Why haven’t you asked me the names of the health inspectors who let my code violation pass?”

  Did she have to bring this up again? “You’re my sister.”

  “Why did Vivian nearly cheat?”

  When had his world turned upside down? If he hadn’t let his emotions get the better of him, he wouldn’t be losing an argument to his sister right now.

  He sighed when all he wanted to do was kick the wood of the bar in front of him. “Because her father needed help.”

  “And?”

  “And I know what you’re trying to do.” She raised her eyebrow at him. He sighed again—heavier this time, so she couldn’t doubt how annoying it was to be badgered by his sister as though he was a first-year law student. “Vivian felt a duty to her father strong enough to question right and wrong. I feel a duty to my family—to you—strong enough to pretend I didn’t hear about your experience with the health inspectors and to not wonder what else they might be letting slide and why. Thus, I should be more sympathetic to Vivian’s choices. And I should apologize to her before asking her to come back home.”

  “Sometimes for a smart person, you can be pretty dumb.” Her laughter removed some of the sting of her words. Some. “Don’t apologize to her because it’s your duty to apologize to her. Beg her to move back in with you because you can’t imagine your life without her.”

  “I don’t have to imagine life without her. I’m living it.”

  “She’s still within driving distance and if you’re not at work, you’re at Mom’s house or Healthy Food. Life without her will mean she won’t even be around for you to pretend you don’t love her. Go home and think about what Dad would say about that, smart guy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  AS SOON AS they got home from the night’s work at Healthy Food, Susan collapsed into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “The problem,” she said, her voice muffled by the folded arms her head was lying on, “is that I want to close my eyes, and my legs want to tap dance.”

  Vivian filled two mugs with milk and stuck them in the microwave. While the milk was heating, she got chocolate syrup out of the fridge and some spoons. Hot chocolate was acceptable when both punchy and tired. What Vivian really wanted was a whiskey, but between Jelly Bean and Susan’s medicine, hot chocolate was as much of an indulgence as either of them was allowed right now. When the microwave beeped, Vivian put the steaming cups of milk on the counter and made their drinks—heavy on the chocolate. Susan perked up at the click of the mug on the table.

  Wrapping her hands around her mug and sitting across the yellow laminate kitchen table from her mother-in-law, both of them too hyper to sleep, was as good a chance as Vivian was going to get to broach her idea with Susan. If Vivian didn’t jump now, she’d probably chicken out from jumping later, and then how would she ever learn to fly?

  “I was thinking of taking over Healthy Food when you retire.”

  Susan didn’t do more than blink at Vivian’s bald statement. Now she knew where Karl had gotten his poker face. Her mother-in-law slurped her hot chocolate, leaving Vivian with nothing more to do than shift in her seat.

  “None of my children are interested in Healthy Food,” Susan finally said. That wasn’t a no. “Do you propose to wait until I die and hope I leave it to you in my will?”

  It wasn’t a yes, either.

  “Well, I was hoping to buy you out.” Vivian took a noisy sip of her hot chocolate, hoping to cover the nerves making her heart beat a million times per minute
.

  Susan’s mug clunked on the table. “Vivian, I enjoy having you live here and think you are great at Healthy Food, but, well, you’re living here because you have no money.”

  The flat tone her mother-in-law used when pointing out the flaw in her otherwise great plan made Vivian squirm. She tried to cover it up by sipping more hot chocolate, but Susan probably saw through the ruse. “I know. And, since I am working, I should probably be paying you rent or something. I’m not family.”

  Susan’s face darkened; Vivian had insulted her, which was the last thing she had wanted to do. “So long as you are the mother of my grandchild, you’re family. I don’t want to hear anything said otherwise.”

  The warmth spreading through Vivian had nothing to do with the hot drink or overheated kitchen. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “When the baby’s born, you should invite your aunt Kitty and your cousins to visit. And your father—it would be nice to meet him.”

  Vivian grimaced. “You’ll be meeting my father sooner rather than later, if his email was any indication. Just promise not to give him any money.”

  Susan cocked her head, her concern on her face clear. “Is that what buying me out at Healthy Food is about? Not having any money to give to your father when he comes?”

  “No.” Her father’s email had prompted her to think about why she was working at Healthy Food and if Healthy Food offered her more than just money. So, the germination of the idea had come out of fear—fear for when her father finally tracked her down. But, before presenting it to Susan, Vivian had given herself time to think it over without her father’s email bounding about in her head. “I like Chicago. I like the people who come into Healthy Food. I know I’m not Polish and I’m especially not a Polish cook, but I’d like to stay a part of it all.”

  “You don’t have to be a part of Healthy Food to be a part of the community. You’re Karl’s wife and,” Susan continued before Vivian could interrupt her, “the mother of his child, no matter the state of your marriage.”

  “I want something on my own terms.” I want a solid foundation without relying on Karl for it.

  Susan picked up her drink and eyed Vivian for a long while over the edge of her mug. “This is what you really want to do?” she asked before taking a big swallow.

  “Yes. The idea is new, but once I had it...” Vivian trailed off, not sure how to put how she felt into words. “Once I had it, I knew it was right.” She played her trump card. “Right for both me and Jelly Bean.”

  “Humph.” Susan knew what Vivian had done there but didn’t seem inclined to argue. “Raising a child is hard enough, especially if you’re going to be a single parent. How will you manage to do both?”

  Vivian bit her lip. The hopeful part of her had expected Susan to be wholeheartedly supportive, even though the rest of her had known that wasn’t realistic. Family or not, they were discussing a business deal. Vivian straightened her shoulders and faced her mother-in-law like a business partner—lip no longer between her teeth.

  “I’m sure it won’t be easy. But women have figured out how to manage a child and build a career before I got pregnant. I’ll figure out how to do it after I give birth. And I’m sure I can start figuring it out in between.”

  She wanted to ask if Susan would help with childcare, but she chose to keep that to herself for now, since her mother-in-law seemed to be looking for shortcomings to pounce on. “Whether or not Karl and I divorce, I’ll want to work.” She’d been working ever since she was at an age that someone would hire her. “I’m sure he’d help pay for childcare.”

  “And when you’re working the night shift?” It was a good thing that the mug was mostly empty of hot chocolate the way Susan was shaking it at her. “Who’s going to help that baby with homework? Read bedtime stories and tuck him in at night?”

  “You worked and had four—” Vivian almost said three and barely corrected herself “—children. You weren’t a single mother when they were young, but you were by the time Karl was sixteen.”

  “And my working nearly screwed up Renia, even though I had my mother-in-law to help me.”

  “Will I not have you?”

  “Will you need me?” Susan countered.

  Vivian wanted to walk around the table and shake Susan for being so cold and unenthusiastic about this idea, but instead she gritted her teeth. “I suppose I won’t need you, but I would like your help. Even if I hadn’t decided learning a new business while pregnant was a good idea, I’d want your help with Jelly Bean regardless.”

  Finally, Susan put down her mug and her face warmed into a smile. “I just wanted to make sure you were serious—and that you knew what you were getting yourself and that baby into. You should be around to love my grandchild, but I also hope you’ll set an example for him or her about making your own way in the world.”

  Vivian’s shoulders relaxed and she bit her lip again. “So, you like the idea?”

  “I’m not against it.” Vivian supposed that was close enough. “How do you propose to raise the money?”

  “I know I should probably be paying you rent, especially now that I’ve been working, but maybe the rent I would be paying you could go in a separate bank account. Set aside, for when you’re ready to retire.” Vivian squared her shoulders again. This idea felt a lot like jumping off a cliff blindfolded, but that didn’t mean she had to go about it in a slouchy manner.

  “It won’t be enough, Vivian. I don’t plan on retiring soon, but even still, it probably won’t be enough.” Susan was taking her seriously. Vivian wanted this plan to work, even if she knew everything about dealing cards and next to nothing about running a restaurant. For Susan to have faith in her meant there was more than a zero chance she could succeed.

  Vivian closed her eyes on all the problems, groping about for a solution in the dark. “I know. I’m...I’m not sure what to do about the difference. I’m hoping to have a plan figured out when the time comes.”

  “From what I know about you—and your father—you could probably use your seed money and spend a couple of nights at a casino to make up the difference.”

  “My father likes to believe his future is in the roll of a dice or the turning over of a card. I’m not interested in that.” Her father would never stop at having won enough to cover the cost of buying out Susan. He’d be so enthralled with the feeling of winning that he’d play and play and play until he owed money to someone sketchy. Vivian’s childhood hadn’t been built on quicksand because her father was a bad schemer, but because he didn’t know when to get out.

  Vivian was pretty sure she knew when to cut her losses, but that didn’t mean she wanted to ever walk into a casino again, even if she weren’t banned.

  “Karl has the money. He could give you everything you need.”

  Vivian knew that. And she also knew that Karl would probably do it now, if she asked. He’d like the idea of her buying Healthy Food. But then her ownership of Healthy Food would be dependent on him, and she wouldn’t be more independent than she was now. “If, when the time comes, we’re a regular married couple and we make the decision to buy you out of Healthy Food together, then that may be an option. Right now, I’m not going to ask.”

  Making a decision as a couple to buy his mom out of her restaurant was a far cry from Karl giving the money to Vivian while she was broke, pregnant and living at his mom’s house.

  Susan nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t entirely understand what is keeping you and Karl apart, but he’s the father of that child and needs to own up to his responsibilities.”

  An image of Karl, standing in his whimsical clock-and-watch-print boxers, trying to convince her to move back in with him because of his responsibilities flashed through Vivian’s head. “Don’t worry. He is.”

  “I won’t do this with you on the shake of a hand. We’ll find a lawyer to
draw up a contract with an out for you. You might decide Healthy Food and the old Poles who eat there aren’t your future, after all.”

  “I might.” Anything was possible, after all. “And you might decide—” especially after meeting her father “—that you don’t want Healthy Food in my hands. Or maybe those old Poles don’t want me running their neighborhood restaurant.”

  Bigger than Vivian’s concern over money was her fear that the neighborhood would never accept anyone as Healthy Food’s owner who wasn’t blood-Polish, even if she was married to Karl. Most everyone had been nice to her, but paying the Chinese wife for your dinner was one thing, knowing she was in charge of the Polish food coming out of the kitchen was another.

  Susan rolled the bottom of her mug on the table as she appeared to consider Vivian’s concern. “Some of the customers will say you don’t understand the Polish community and they may say you don’t belong here every time you make a decision they disagree with. They do it to me, and I have a Polish maiden name. But my Polish ancestors came to this country before the Revolutionary War and so I don’t understand what it’s like to be really Polish. Staple of this community or not, I’m lucky if I’m an eighth Polish. It will be worse for you, and you’ll have to learn those people aren’t worth your time. Concentrate on the customers who aren’t blind fools.”

  Vivian let that worry slide for right now. She had until Susan retired to win the community over. Susan was right that it wasn’t worth her time agonizing over it. She could nail down the tangibles of taking over Healthy Food and worry about the intangibles—such as discrimination—later.

  Her mother-in-law smiled and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened. Softened. “If we are to do this, tell me what you know about running a restaurant.”

  Susan probably wasn’t going to change her mind about the deal now, but Vivian was still nervous saying, “Nothing. I took a couple of hospitality classes at UNLV, but with nothing ahead of me except more dealing, I doubt I retained anything. I’m hoping to learn from you, before you retire.”