by Liz Talley
“That cool spring robot-looking leg?” Chris knitted his eyes together. “That’s what Dad will have?”
“Or something like that,” Lucas said, glancing again at Addy. Her face had assumed an ethereal quality, reminding him of Rubenesque paintings gracing cathedrals. Her soft eyes smiled at him and suddenly all inside him wasn’t about wanting Addy beneath him. A piece of him was satisfied at that moment to be near her, to be able to reach out and draw warmth from her. “But I want you to take your frustration at your mother for not telling you and put it up on a shelf to be forgotten. She is what she is. This wasn’t about not trusting you…it was about loving you so much she didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Wow,” Addy breathed, turning a smile onto the two boys who looked oddly lighter than they had in the entire time he’d been with them.
“So are we good?”
Michael pushed his hair back and leveled his gaze at him. “Thank you for telling us, but you didn’t tell us about what happened between you and Dad a long time ago.”
At that moment, Lucas knew he couldn’t put his brother or sister-in-law in a bad light…and explaining the cheating and betrayal would tarnish their images, which felt like the wrong thing to do. “You know, your mother and father were meant to be together. Sometimes we think we know what we want, but God has a better plan for us. He had a better plan for your parents and put them together. And thank goodness He did. He made you a family.”
Chris nodded his head. “So what you’re saying is that you’re glad Mom and Dad got together because now you can marry Addy.”
Addy choked on her cappuccino.
“That’s not exactly what I was saying, but it’s kind of right,” Lucas said, popping her on the back and trying not to laugh. “So are we good here?”
Michael smiled. “Yeah, we’re good.”
And at that very moment, Lucas felt things shift between him and Michael. It was subtle, but present all the same. Maybe his words hadn’t merely brought Michael some relief but had strengthened the fragile bonds they’d started forming over the past two weeks. Maybe he and Michael moved toward forgiveness.
On many levels.
“Ready to go?” Addy asked, reaching out for Charlotte and scooping her into her arms. Lucas paused a moment and watched how gently Addy moved her, how right she looked with the little girl cradled against her body.
He’d taken pictures throughout the day and itched for the camera in the truck to preserve the sheer beauty of Addy and the child.
“Yep, I’m ready to play ‘Battlefield 3,’” Chris said, banging the chair against the table, waking Charlotte who started whimpering.
Addy nuzzled her and smiled at Lucas, and in her face he saw exactly what he looked for…understanding.
No need to rehash all that had occurred between him and Courtney because somehow or another, Addy got him.
And it had felt that way since he’d first met her.
Meant to be.
And just as Michael had looked lighter, Lucas felt lighter. Something about sharing that burden had given more knockabout room inside him. His heart beat strong against his ribs and his mind seemed to almost sigh with relief. Didn’t make sense but he felt it just the same.
And as they walked to his truck, Charlotte asleep on Addy’s shoulder, the two boys for once not arguing, Lucas slid his hand into Addy’s and felt contentment make a home in him.
*
“YOU’RE HOME,” Flora said when Addy unlocked the back door and entered the kitchen.
“I am, but only for a minute. Thought I’d come see if you wanted to watch a movie with us. Sanitized version of Forrest Gump.” Addy opened the pantry and rifled through the snack basket for a package of microwave popcorn.
“No, I’m working on piecing that pattern for the dress I’m making for the Natchez Pilgrimage. These old fingers ain’t what they used to be and neither are these eyes.” Flora wiggled her fingers and eyed Addy as she retreated from the depths of the pantry. “You sure look pretty, my darling. So glad to see you wearing some color.”
“Thanks. You sure you don’t want to come? The kids are behaving and Lucas is baking brownies. Who knew the man could bake all along? We could have saved ourselves some work.”
“You need a proper date with that man. Not one with kids around,” Flora said, putting her hands on her hips. Addy’s aunt wore a pair of pink Juicy Couture sweatpants and a tight long-sleeved T-shirt that said Cutie Pie. She looked like a teenager except with bifocals, age spots and gray hair.
“It’s going to be hard to do since he’s all they have,” Addy said.
“Y’all have me,” her aunt said, cocking her head. “Unless you don’t trust me anymore?”
Addy would never admit her doubts about Flora’s progressing disease to her aunt, but she wasn’t sure Flora could handle three unruly, precocious kids for an evening. “Of course I trust you, Auntie. I just don’t think it’s fair to ask—”
“Why the heck not? Shit, I can handle a few kids,” Aunt Flora cracked, waving a hand.
“Flora.”
Her aunt smiled. “I’m getting too old to mince words.”
“You look and sound like a rap video,” Addy joked, ransacking the candy jar for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
“How about tomorrow afternoon, I take the kids to the movies? Or maybe down to Audubon to the zoo?”
“Alone?”
“I’ll call Patti and she can bring her grandson Tristan. She has season passes and it’s not hard to handle kids at the zoo…they can’t touch any animals or break anything.”
“I’ll ask Lucas,” Addy said, hoping she used good sense and hadn’t let her desire to have Lucas alone skew her judgment.
Heck, her judgment had been skewed when she’d decided to not worry about forever, but to embrace the now. So un-Addy-like. Or at least unlike the Addy she’d become. But she wanted this weekend more than she wanted to be sensible.
Walking back into the darkening shadows, Addy’s lizard brain kicked in.
Nothing but shadows. No movement but the wind. No sounds but the swish of nearby traffic and the leaves brushing against their neighbors. The dark wasn’t scary…it was the evil in the bright light of day that scared the bejesus out of Addy.
She walked across the back porch of the Finlay house and Kermit brushed against her knees.
“Agh!” she stepped back and nearly fell off the step. Lucas poked his head out and she smelled the brownies baking.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I didn’t see the dog,” she said, looking down at a smiling Kermit. His tongue lolled out and he lifted a paw and scraped it down her leg. She gave him a pat. Pavlov. Humans were ruled by it just as much as their canine friends.
Lucas stepped out and swept her into his arms. He didn’t kiss her, just settled her into his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Thank you for today, Addy.”
“Mmm,” she said, wrapping her arms about him, leaning into him, enjoying the hard warmth of his body against the softness of hers. She inhaled his scent, trailed her fingers up and down the ridges of his back. She wanted to memorize him so when he was gone and she lay in her bed alone, she could recall the way he felt. “Today was surprisingly fun. Never thought I’d say that about a date with kids along for the ride.”
“You’re good at Frisbee Golf.”
“My nephew Connor taught me,” she said allowing her hands to slide into the back of his waistband, massaging his lower back.
“You fit me, Addy,” he said, dropping little kisses atop her head, brushing a hand through the tendrils falling from her braid. His head lowered and he kissed the spot beneath her ear, that oh-so-sensitive place on her neck.
A small shudder rent through her.
“Uncle Wucas! Chris woke me up,” Charlotte said from the open doorway.
Addy peered over at the tot who rubbed her eyes and blinked sleepily at them. “We’re coming.”
Lucas growled, nipping her ear. “I
told you. This isn’t fair.”
“Hey.” She swatted him, smiling up at him as she stepped from his arms. “By the way, Aunt Flora wants to take the kids to the zoo tomorrow. Her friend has passes.”
Lucas’s eyebrows raised and she’d never seen such a satisfied smile before. “Really?”
“If you don’t have anything to do…” she drawled, walking her fingers up his arm. “Tara wants you to go mow her yard.”
He made a face.
She poked a finger at his chest. “Just kidding. I want you to mow my yard.”
His eyes narrowed.
“And by yard, I mean mow—” she blew into his ear “—my—” she trailed a finger down his chest “—yard.” She brushed her hand against his fly, feeling his arousal.
She smiled that smile given by all femme fatales throughout history and sashayed, yes, sashayed to the back door.
“I’ll sharpen my blade,” Lucas said.
Addy laughed.
*
SUNDAY DAWNED RAINY and gray, and Lucas cursed the clouds when he took Kermit out for a short run. Michael was reading, Chris was clicking that stupid control and making machines fight each other and Charlotte was glued to the Creampie kitten movie. He had about fifteen minutes to stretch his legs, gather his thoughts and expend the frustration at the damn weather. The drizzle spat at him, and Kermit took extra long to do his business.
Ben and Courtney’s neighborhood was nice, sitting not far off Carrollton in a nice area of midsize, tasteful houses that clustered around the grand dames lining St. Charles, which ran perpendicular with the busy street. Not far away were the arches of Tulane and the graceful solidarity of Ursuline Academy. He hooked a left onto St. Charles and then huffed it back up State Street and then across to Nashville.
By the time he reached the gray-blue house on Orchard, the misty rain had stopped and the sun peeked out.
Hallelujah.
By the time he’d dressed the kids, fed them lunch, given them money and then warned them to behave or risk the loss of a limb…or at least phone privileges, he was a giant ball of horny need.
Not good.
Addy didn’t need him jumping her bones the minute he walked through her door.
Flora showed up on the porch at a quarter of noon wearing jeans and a shirt that she’d likely stolen out of a teenager’s closet. The woman took dressing young to extremes, but her smile was open and her friend had a four-year-old boy with her.
Lucas bent down and eyeballed Charlotte. “Be nice to Tristan. Remember what happened with Sheldon?”
She nodded. “He hitted me.”
“Yes, so use good manners just like your teacher taught you, okay?”
“Okay.”
He rose and gave Michael and Chris the look his father had often given to him and Ben. “Keep your hands off each other and be nice to your sister.”
Chris saluted. “Aye, aye, Uncle.”
And off they went, leaving Lucas to shower, shave and run out for a bottle of wine. He grabbed a small clutch of flowers as he checked out at the grocery and then booked it back to Orchard Street. He wanted every second of every minute with Addy to count.
When he pulled into the driveway, he groaned.
A car sat in the drive.
A car with a nun in it.
Chapter Sixteen
SISTER REGINA MARIA wasn’t bigger than a popcorn fart, but she covered every inch of ground she trod.
And she trod toward him.
Glowering.
“Mr. Finlay?”
“You drive a car?” As opposed to flying on a broom?
She glanced back at the silver Toyota Highlander before piercing him with flinty eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He didn’t have an answer. “What can I help you with, Sister?”
“First, I think it would be appropriate for you to ask me to step inside. I’m a human being, not an animal who conducts business in a driveway.”
Something sank inside him and he shifted the grocery bag and gestured to the house before casting a desperate glance at Addy’s place.
So much for every second of every minute.
“Come inside, Sister.” He pulled out the key and unlocked the door, praying the living room was halfway cleared of toys, clothing and the load of towels he hadn’t gotten around to folding.
Nope. Same ol’ messy living room. Clothes-folding fairies had not descended upon the laundry basket.
Sister Regina Maria’s eyes widened, but she was polite enough to keep her mouth pressed into a disapproving line. She refused to sit…of course, he didn’t blame her. Chris had left his socks on the cushion. He sat the bag on the coffee table and turned to her. “So what brings you here on a most holy day?”
“The Lord’s work, of course.”
“No telephones at the nunnery?”
“Nunnery? We don’t call our home a nunnery. Does this look like eighteenth-century Europe to you?” she snapped, crossing her whip-thin arms.
“Sorry. Can I get you a coffee? Tea? Beer?”
She shook her head. “I like cold beer but not on Sunday. My grandmother was Baptist.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant, but whatever. He wanted her to spit out the reason she’d invaded his quality time with Addy…and then get the heck out of Dodge. “Okay. How may I help you?”
“I understand the situation. You’re taking care of your niece while Mrs. Finlay is away, but Charlotte is having some difficulties as I’m certain you’ve noticed.”
He arched a brow. “Well, they’re going through an adjustment having me taking care of them. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“She’s hitting other children and she keeps wetting her mat at nap time.”
“Oh,” he said, wondering why the teacher hadn’t called. Didn’t they just have parent-teacher conference? Oh, damn. He’d missed it because of the stomach virus epidemic.
“Charlotte was out the last part of the week and no one was present for her conference. I figured a home-site visit was in order, and as I am the principal of the lower school, I must address what is amiss with Charlotte.” She glanced around.
“It’s not as if Courtney is at a spa. Ben is near death, and I, an uncle she’s never seen before, have been left to care for her and her brothers. Whatever could be amiss in her world?” he drawled with an extra helping of sarcasm.
“Oh, dear,” Sister Regina Maria said, lifting a weathered hand to clasp the dangling crucifix lying against her charcoal sweater. “Her teacher told me Mrs. Finlay was out of town, but not that Mr. Finlay had been gravely ill.”
Lucas relaxed a little. “Charlotte’s adjusting to change. I can talk to her about the hitting, but I’m not sure about the mat wetting. Perhaps those pull-up things? In Modern Parenting, a psychologist suggested major changes can set potty-trained toddlers back. I’m certain it’s a phase.”
“You read Modern Parenting?”
“When there’s nothing else around,” he said, shaking his head. “Look, I’ll talk to Courtney. Ben is tremendously better and he may be moved to New Orleans the latter part of next week. I’ll make sure Courtney calls the school and sets up a conference with Charlotte’s teacher.”
Sister Regina Maria nodded, resembling a crow with beady eyes. From around the couch, Mittens strolled, curling about the woman’s feet. The nun bent and stroked the cat. Yeah, seemed about right. Like recognized like.
“That would be acceptable. Next time you need to inform the school when there is something of this magnitude ongoing in a student’s life. We do care, Mr. Finlay.”
“Note taken. My sister-in-law feels this is a sensitive issue, and I hope you will keep this conversation confidential. I appreciate your coming by on your day off,” he said, acknowledging the nun had her heart in the right place…even if she was unforgiving of taking up too much time in carpool line. It was the stupid harness in the car seat’s fault.
“Oh, today is not my day off, Mr. Finlay. For a woman of God there is no
day off.”
“Right,” he said, motioning toward the door, wanting her to leave as soon as possible. But also concerned about Charlotte. He’d had no idea, though come to think of it, she’d worn different clothes home a few days in a row. He’d thought she’d spilled something on them and had to change into her play clothes packed in her pink Creampie backpack. Now he knew she was having a harder time than he’d thought…and he needed to check those plastic grocery bags he’d tossed in the laundry room.
Poor child. Her world had been rocked to such an extent…and she’d had no way to tell him…other than hitting and pulling a Kermit on the plastic mat he sent with her every day.
“I’ll be in touch if there are any further problems,” the nun said, with a curt nod.
“I’m sure you will,” he murmured, sweeping a hand toward the door. “If there isn’t anything else…”
“That will be all, Mr. Finlay,” Sister Regina Maria said, giving Mittens a final pat, skirting the couch and marching toward the open doorway. “I have other problems to correct. Unless you need further instruction on carpool procedures?”
“I’ve gotten the hang of it.” He made a face behind her back but smiled when she whirled back toward him. “Yes?”
“Might I recommend procuring some help? This place isn’t fit for children. Healthy environments make healthy children.”
Lucas looked around. “They’re the ones who did this.”
She gave him a wintery smile. “But are they in charge?”
Good question.
He was pretty certain they were, but perhaps a little spring cleaning was in order.
But he wasn’t admitting that to the Wicked Nun of the West.
“Have a good day, Sister.”
“You, too,” she said, stepping outside and clipping most efficiently down the porch steps.
“Oh, I intend to,” he said, grabbing the wine and flowers and relocking the front door.
*
ADDY HAD FLIP-FLOPPED a dozen times on what to wear for her date with Lucas. Jeans and a T-shirt? A flirty dress? Or just meet him at the door in a bustier and garter belt?