by Lucy Score
Waverly knew virtually nothing about Xavier’s family. His parents were married, his mother was a professor, and he had two younger sisters. But she’d walked into more enigmatic situations before. After years of being interviewed, Waverly had learned how to get information out of people. She’d get to know them and, through them, Xavier.
They still hadn’t talked about what had happened the night before. Her skin heated at just the thought of their lovemaking. She wasn’t sure either of them was ready to face the consequences of last night, and the longer they went without acknowledging it, the longer they could pretend that everything was normal.
As normal as their lives could be, she thought wryly.
She leaned back in her seat and slipped on a pair of oversized sunglasses as the jet touched down on the skinny ribbon of a landing strip.
On one side of the strip, a thick copse of scrubby pine trees spiked toward the blue sky. On the other, the rolling green of mountains dominated the horizon, still white capped even in June.
The plane came to a neat stop, and Idle Lake’s population had just increased by two, Waverly thought.
The attendants cleared their exit, and Xavier led the way down the plane’s stairs to the tarmac. The Colorado sun warmed her cool skin, and the change of scenery so different from Bel Air distracted her from the nerves collecting in her belly.
A shrill whistle cut through the air, and Waverly spotted a man approaching the plane. He wore neatly pressed charcoal chinos and a button down, sleeves rolled up in deference to the weather. Even from this distance, she could see the family resemblance: the way he moved, that ambling stride of purpose and the grin, though she’d only seen it rarely on his son.
Xavier met him on the asphalt and wrapped the man in a bear hug, slapping him on the back. She couldn’t hear their exchange, but their laughter carried.
Had she and her mother ever been that happy to see each other? Had they ever exchanged such an easy and bright greeting?
Both men turned as she approached, and Xavier held out his hand to her. She took it without thinking and let him pull her into his family fold. “Waverly, I’d like you to meet my father, Emmett. Dad, this is Waverly, your house guest for the weekend.”
Waverly smiled and offered her hand to the man. “Thank you for letting me invade your home, Mr. Saint.”
“Please, call me Emmett,” he said, engulfing her hand in his. “And I should be thanking you for putting my son on a plane to see us.”
She waited for the inevitable awkwardness that usually arrived hand in hand with an introduction, that flicker of recognition and the ensuing judgments that followed. But there was nothing but easy friendliness in Emmett’s eyes.
Xavier certainly came by his looks honestly, Waverly decided. Emmett’s hair was a shade or two darker and flecked with silver. It took to curl on top, and Waverly wondered if Xavier’s would do the same if it were longer.
Emmett’s eyes were a gray blue and crinkled at the sides when he smiled. And that smile, just slightly off-center, reminded her so much of his son.
Their bags were loaded into a tidy late model crossover, and Emmett slid behind the wheel. Waverly grinned when Xavier made a move to slide into the backseat next to her. “I think I’ll be fine back here by myself, X.”
“Old habits,” he said with a wink and took the passenger seat. Emmett navigated through the cozy mountain town calling out landmarks of interest to Waverly. The high school where Xavier had captained the cross-country team. The community pool where Xavier had lifeguarded for two summers and where he’d saved little Alex Lewis. And did Xavier know that Alex was a sophomore in high school now and just passed his lifeguarding exam?
When Emmett pointed out the park where Xavier had gotten caught necking with a girlfriend in high school, his son drew the line.
“Dad.”
“Uh-oh, Emmett. He’s using the ‘you’re-in-trouble’ voice on you,” Waverly teased from the backseat.
“I see you’re familiar with my son’s bossy tone. He gets it from his mother.” Emmett winked at her in the rearview mirror.
The Saint men bantered back and forth through the downtown, where Emmett had someone to wave to on every block. Idle Lake had all the feel of a frontier gold mining town with its cluster of painted wooden storefronts and boardwalk-style sidewalks. Down cross streets, Waverly caught glimpses of the glittering lake water that beckoned residents on a lazy summer afternoon.
The storefronts ended, and miles of sidewalk began. Houses styled after log cabins dotted the streets on spacious lots. Every home had a view of the mountains that loomed over the town, and every neighborhood was prettier than the next, and then they were turning onto a paved driveway.
She wasn’t sure where she’d pictured broody, perfect Xavier growing up, but it wasn’t here in the stucco and stone home with its copper and cedar shake accents. It wasn’t grandiose like the neighborhoods Waverly had grown up in. But it had charm from its traditional architecture blending perfectly into the wooded lot. An emerald green lawn rolled out from the front porch to the sidewalk and street.
No need for security gates and walls here.
The house said family, tradition, foundation.
They would know their neighbors here, Waverly thought. Kids would play together moving from backyard to backyard while parents enjoyed a drink and the sunset from the deck.
Emmett eased up to the detached two-car garage in the same stucco and stone as the house. “We’re home,” he announced, shutting off the engine.
Waverly saw the curve of Xavier’s smile as he peered through the windshield at the house. Xavier Saint was home.
They piled out of the car and followed Emmett toward a side entrance facing the garage when a giant gray furball shoved its way through the screen door.
“Hamilton!” The delight in Xavier’s voice tickled something deep in Waverly’s chest.
The dog lumbered its great bulk down the three short steps to the walkway and romped into Xavier’s waiting arms. When he dropped to his knees to give the dog’s fur an appropriate ruffle, Hamilton jumped his meaty paws to Xavier’s shoulder and licked the sunglasses off his face.
Xavier laughed.
Waverly shook her head. “I’ve spent nearly every waking hour with this man in the past few weeks, and I’ve never seen him this happy.”
“A boy and his dog,” Emmett laughed. “No love story can top it.”
They watched the love fest unfold as Xavier and Hamilton tumbled over in the grass.
“Come on,” Emmett said. “We’ll let them get reacquainted, and I’ll introduce you to Xavier’s mother. She can tell you several embarrassing stories about him before he notices we’re gone.”
Waverly laughed and trailed Emmett up the steps and through the screen door. They entered a large kitchen crowded with cabinets, a butcher block island on wheels, a huge oak table with mismatched chairs that seemed to be doubling as a desk, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases.
Pots bubbled and steamed on the gas range. Bowls and other cooking accessories littered the worn wooden counters. Jars of spices and the remains of a rainbow of ingredients clustered around the range and sink.
In the midst of it all, a tall, narrow-framed woman swore a blue streak at whatever was cooking in the oven.
Emmett had to cup his hands and shout to get her attention.
“Carol!”
The woman jumped and yanked the ear buds out of her ears. Even from across the kitchen, Waverly could hear a soaring aria.
“Jesus H. Christ, Em! You scared the shit out of me.” Carol shoved a hand through the sweep of sandy blonde hair going silver. Her brown eyes, Xavier’s brown eyes, held none of the reproof of her tone. Her gaze traveled over Emmett and landed on Waverly.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, and in them, Waverly saw recognition and realization. “Oh!”
“Hi,” Waverly waved awkwardly.
Carol wore an apron
decorated with cardinals and sprigs of holly over holey, low-slung jeans, and a University of Colorado t-shirt. And a murderous expression on her face.
“I’m going to kill him,” she announced, slamming down a spoon and advancing on Waverly. “Emmett, where is our son?”
“Out rolling around on the lawn with the dog.” Emmett didn’t look at all perturbed by his wife’s anger.
Carol came to an abrupt stop in front of Waverly, who resisted the urge to take a step back.
“‘I’m bringing a guest,’ he says. ‘She’s a client,’ he says. But do the words ‘Waverly Sinner the actress’ cross his tight lips?” Carol ranted.
“I’m guessing they did not?” Waverly ventured.
Carol rolled her eyes heavenward and surprised Waverly with a hard hug. “Welcome to our home that I would have redecorated from basement to attic if I had known you were our guest. You’re welcome to stay even after I kill my son.”
Waverly gave a relieved laugh. “Thank you, Dr. Saint. I appreciate your hospitality. You have a lovely home.”
“Call me Carol.”
“See? Bossy tone,” Emmett said, elbowing Waverly. “Dear, uh, how do we know Waverly?”
Carol rolled her eyes again. “You’ll have to forgive my uneducated husband, Waverly. He hasn’t been to the movies since the late nineties.”
“Ah, yes. I believe it was Titanic,” Emmett said thoughtfully. He brightened. “Are you in movies?”
Waverly nodded in amusement. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn’t know, nor particularly care, that she was an actor. “A few.”
“I’ll educate you later on Waverly’s body of work, but first, before my soon-to-be deceased son comes in, please tell me that you’re dating Xavier and not ‘just a client’ as he made sure to mention eight times on the phone.”
“Stop pumping Waverly, Mom,” Xavier said from behind her. The screen door thumped closed. His suit had sprouted a thick coating of grass and dog hair, and his tie had been dislodged. The grin on his face told Waverly that he was confident he could coax his mother out of her anger.
Hamilton, a similar grin on his furry face, abandoned Xavier’s side and shoved his nose into Waverly’s crotch in greeting. She ruffled his ears and guided his nose to less personal areas. He bounded away from her under the table and returned, nudging a worn hamburger toy into her hand. The cloth was hard, suggesting many hours of dog slobber exposure.
Waverly took the burger and tossed it toward the refrigerator and Hamilton lunged after it.
“Well, I know how Waverly will be spending her weekend now,” Emmett sighed, as Hamilton romped back with the burger.
Carol gave the dog an absent-minded pat as he barreled past her to get to Waverly.
“I am not happy with you,” she said, jabbing an unpolished finger in Xavier’s direction.
He caught her wrist easily and reeled her in for a hug. “If I told you who I was bringing, you would have had the house torn apart and refitted for royalty, which Waverly wouldn’t have wanted.” He winked over his mother’s head at her. “Is that pot roast I smell?”
“Yes,” Carol said extricating herself from her son’s hug. “And you can watch the rest of us eat it.” She wasn’t quick to forgive, and Waverly could respect that.
A horn sounded three short bursts from the driveway, and Hamilton, burger in mouth, skidded for the door.
“The girls are back,” Carol said. She gave Xavier a sharp tap on the cheek. “You thought my reaction would be bad? I can only imagine what Chelsea and Maddy will do.”
“That’s why I told them already,” Xavier grinned that heart-breaker smile.
At Carol’s gasp of indignation, he laughed. “Mom, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to go psychotic on the hospitality. I told them so they wouldn’t completely humiliate the rest of us by asking what co-star is the best kisser or squealing like a twelve-year-old.”
Just such a sound tore through the kitchen, and the screen door slammed shut behind the two women who had entered. Hamilton plowed under the table, bumping chairs out of his way.
Xavier swore and put himself between Waverly and the new arrivals.
“I told you she was coming!” he protested.
Both girls strained to see around his broad shoulders. Once again, the family resemblance was unmistakable. They had their mother’s nose and cheekbones, their father’s coloring, and Xavier’s mouth. The one Waverly judged to be slightly older wore slim gray pants and a navy silk blouse. The younger one rocked denim cutoffs and a faded Idle Lake High t-shirt that had seen more than a hundred washings.
“Yeah, but now we’re actually seeing her,” the younger of the two said, bouncing on her toes. Her ponytail sprang over her shoulder. “Oh my God. Waverly Sinner is in my kitchen!”
“You make one move toward that cell phone, and I will put you in the oven with the pot roast,” Xavier threatened.
His sisters were obviously immune to Xavier’s threats. Ponytail rolled her eyes in an exact replica of their mother. “Relax, big brother.”
“No pictures,” Navy Silk said gruffly in a spot-on imitation of her big brother.
“No Tweeting,” Ponytail added in the same.
“No Facebook, no SnapChat, don’t tell Mom…” they continued to tick off Xavier’s commands one by one, and Waverly snickered.
“I’m disowning you all,” Carol said and stormed back to the stove. “Waverly and Em and I will enjoy this delicious dinner, and the rest of you can scrounge for scraps with Hamilton.”
At the word “scraps” the dog thrust his head between two dining chairs and barreled over to Carol. “I was making a point, buddy, not offering a meal,” Carol told him. The dog slunk back to Waverly and gave her a devastated look.
“Come on, Zav,” one of the sister’s begged. “You can’t keep her from us the whole weekend.
“Fine,” Xavier relented. But before they could rush her, he grabbed both in a headlock and spun around to face Waverly.
“Waverly, these mutants are my sisters, Chelsea and Madeline, who have promised to behave themselves or they’ll be banned from the house this weekend. Mutants, this is Waverly. Don’t bother her.”
He released them and looked as though he immediately regretted his decision when they rushed her for hugs. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”
“Shut up, Zav,” Madeline squealed. “We’re hugging famous!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
They settled her into Chelsea’s old room, a bright upstairs bedroom with a Jack and Jill bath and a view of the lake that butted up against the property’s backyard. The walls were a mossy green, the furniture decidedly feminine, and the bed soft. Carol had offered her the master, but Waverly had politely and firmly declined. Twice.
Waverly stashed her suitcase in a corner near the closet and took a few minutes to freshen up in the bathroom to erase the travel weariness. As she changed into a long, flowy skirt and simple black tank for dinner, she could hear the sounds of family rise up from the first floor. Raised voices, excited chatter, and quick bursts of laughter.
Xavier’s room was next door to her own, and when she saw the door open, she paused. He had changed, too, she noted. He lay on top of the handmade quilt on his double bed in casual khaki shorts and a t-shirt. His feet were bare, hands tucked under his head as he stared up at the lazily circling ceiling fan.
Hamilton was flopped over on his back next to Xavier on the bed, his tongue lolling happily out the side of his mouth.
“I’ve never seen you this relaxed,” Waverly said from the doorway.
He didn’t spring to attention as she’d have expected. Instead, Xavier rolled his head to the side and beckoned her in. He patted the mattress, and she sat to face him as he propped himself up on an elbow. Hamilton grumbled at the intrusion.
“Sorry about my family,” Xavier said, his tone low.
“Relax, X. If anyone needs to apologize for their famil
y, it’s me. I like yours. They’re…real.”
“Real crazy.”
Waverly smiled. “They’re nice. Normal.”
“Give it until this time tomorrow, and you’ll be begging me to call the jet,” he teased.
“It’s nice seeing you so happy,” she said, changing the subject.
“I’m taking five before I connect with Micah and Hansen and the rest of the team. And I need your help.”
Waverly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had asked her for help. “Name it.”
“You’re going to regret offering,” he said, with a devilish grin.
“What do you need?”
“We’ve got about half an hour before dinner. I need you to keep my family distracted so I can get caught up. Mom will microwave my phone if she thinks I’m running the business instead of spending quality time with the family.”
“On it,” Waverly said, springing up from the mattress. “Close your door and run the water in the shower. I’ll see you in thirty.”
“Devious mind.” He reached out and caught her hand before she could escape. “We’re going to have to talk about last night soon, Angel,” he warned her.
Talking would only ruin it, she thought. “Let’s focus on tonight for now,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze and escaping through the bedroom door.
-------
Very little had changed in the Saint household since Xavier had left for the military. Maybe there were more knickknacks on the endless bookshelves, definitely more books, and the furniture in the family room had been replaced, but the bones of the house and the dynamic of family were the same.
The four upstairs bedrooms still housed the same furniture they had for the better part of two decades. Downstairs, his mother’s study was a crowded, chaotic mess of books and papers whose piles never got smaller. His parents’ master suite add-on was on the other side of the study, accessed through the family room. They’d built it for sanity when Xavier and his sisters were all in the throes of their teenage years.