A Risk Worth Taking

by Zana Bell

  The only sounds were the drumming of rain on the roof and the cracking in the potbelly stove as a log split open in the flames. Adam blew out a breath in blustering protest. “Of course not.”

  Alicia’s blue eyes pinned her hapless son to his chair. He couldn’t meet her gaze. Cressa swirled the dice in the palm of her hand. “I understand where Alicia’s coming from, Adam. You don’t need to look after us, you know. In fact, your concern reads as a kind of arrogance. It’s as though you think that if you play for real, you’ll beat us. But I’ve already told you—I always win.”

  He glared at her. Watching his cool-dude manner shredding around him was fun.

  “Tell you what,” she added, leaning forward. “Let’s make this interesting. I challenge you. If I beat you, then you have to come sailing with me the next fine day.”

  “Yeah, right! And what if I beat you?”

  “Hmm.” She propped her chin on a fist and surveyed him. “That never happens, but in the unlikely event… How about I promise not to hassle you about your ‘stuff’ ever again? Deal?”

  He glanced from his stake of money and properties to hers. She had far more. Well, that was fair enough. She’d been playing the game right from the start. He looked at her and she stared straight back at him. Then he looked at his mother. Alicia’s blue eyes twinkled, and Cressa realized she’d been underestimating the American woman. Clearly, she had edges beneath her Southern warmth. Adam’s black eyes narrowed and he nodded. “Okay, deal. Pay up, Mom.”

  Alicia pushed her money over. “Now you’re talking.”

  Adam leaned forward. “So whattaya sitting on the dice for, Cressa? Throw.”

  Cressa laughed. The game had finally begun.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I’VE WON?” Astonished, Alicia sat back. “Really? You’re both conceding defeat?”

  “Mom, all my money’s gone and all my properties mortgaged. I’m out.”

  “I can’t see me coming back, either.” Cressa gestured at the huge piles of money in front of Alicia. “What’s my fifty-seven dollars compared with your millions?”

  When she’d called Adam on being too nice, Alicia had had little thought of winning. She wasn’t the winning kind. Well, she used to be as a schoolgirl, but that was many years ago.

  Her son grinned. “Accept it. You were on fire! For sure, you had a lot of luck, but you were also canny. I never realized how crafty you can be.”

  Canny. Crafty. How ridiculously proud she felt hearing those two words. “I was, wasn’t I?”

  “The best player won,” said Cressa. “Man, I can’t believe it wasn’t me. Still—” she smiled smugly “—at least I won our challenge.”

  Adam stared at her. “What are you talking about? We were both beaten, Cressa.”

  “Yeah, but that wasn’t the deal. The deal was if I beat you or you beat me. I’ve still got fifty-seven dollars. Amazing, isn’t it? That paltry amount loses me the game, but wins me the challenge. You’re sailing with me the next fine day, buddy.”

  Adam appeared so nonplussed Alicia had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She enjoyed seeing Cressa give her son a run for his money. From the time the young Kiwi had arrived, Alicia had been very aware of their attraction. It was there in the laughter they shared and in the crackle as they clashed. Whenever Cressa was in the room, Adam couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Alicia understood why. The young woman radiated vibrancy and vitality.

  Right now his gaze followed Cressa as she went to put some more wood in the potbelly. Evening was closing in, and as she crouched and opened the door of the stove, the firelight illuminated her features, caught auburn lights in her black hair, which fell loose about her shoulders. Alicia heard her son’s sharp intake of breath, then the laugh that was meant to be casual but had a catch in it.

  “In that case, I’d better get back to it,” he said.

  He retreated as he always did when his defenses began cracking, Alicia noticed. Cressa rocked back on her heels, watching his hasty departure. “What do you suppose he gets up to in his room?”

  Alicia leaned over and switched on the lamp on the sideboard so she could see to sort the cards and money into piles. “I don’t know. He’s not saying, so I’m not asking.”

  Cressa rose, clutching her chest, and pretended to stagger. “Are you a real mother? Do you honestly never pry?”

  Alicia couldn’t help smiling. Cressa was a wonderful comic. “I used to,” she said. “But even as a kid, he’d head off on some secret mission and only tell me about it afterward.”

  Cressa tipped her head to one side, and her long hair swung with the movement. “Why? So you couldn’t stop him?”

  “Partly, but I think he wanted to see how things would pan out. Then he’d know how to play the next scene, if you catch what I mean.”

  Alicia was uncomfortably aware her nonchalance was disingenuous. Actually, she’d have given her collected works of Shakespeare to learn what he was up to in his room, but no way would she admit this to either of the young people. Cressa would use the admission as ammunition to force Adam to explain himself, whereas Alicia was playing the long game. She’d lost her children’s trust years ago. In recent months, she’d finally earned it back with Sass. Now she had to do the same with Adam. That he wouldn’t confide in her cut deep. Yet she still had hope they would find their way into a better relationship. All her offspring displayed personality traits common in adult children of alcoholics. She’d done a lot of reading about this since her recovery. Sass had turned out an approval seeker, a workaholic with intimacy issues. Cole had become addicted to excitement, his impulsiveness propelling him into rash actions. Adam, with his over-developed sense of responsibility, was driven by a desire to help people. He instinctively sought out damaged women, like Crystal, to try to rescue them. Alicia knew, too, that under his easygoing manner, he was riddled with low self-esteem, dismissing his achievements and dwelling on failure. She hated to see him short-change himself like that. However, analyzing her children was one thing. Helping them was another. They were all on their own journey.

  Alicia watched Cressa pace to the French doors and stare into the pouring rain. It was so dark out she probably couldn’t see anything. With Adam gone, her sparkling humor had turned into a restlessness that emanated from her in palpable waves as she dug her hands into the back pockets of her cargo pants. She always dressed in combat wear: khakis or jeans with big boots. Practical, of course, but Alicia wondered why she never wore anything feminine, even to the wedding. It would be interesting to see if she could be coaxed into something softer.

  “He’s infuriating.”

  Alicia banged the property cards into a tidy bundle. “I know.”

  “He puts on this accommodating exterior, but he really goes his own sweet way, and nothing’s going to stop him.”

  That was a fair summation; however, Alicia wasn’t ready to form female alliances. Her first loyalty was to her son, so she remained quiet.

  Cressa swung around and returned to the table, taking Adam’s seat. She was only partially in the light, which made her eyes glitter. Alicia was careful not to read too much in their green depths. Cressa picked up the community chest cards, but instead of putting them away, began shuffling them absent-mindedly. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  Alicia was wary. “Yes, but I hold the right to not answer.”

  Cressa had a way of detonating situations.

  “Did you love Adam’s father?”

  “Oh. Well, I don’t know.” The question flummoxed her. She’d never asked herself that. Maybe hadn’t dared to. “No, I don’t think so.” She paused, thought about it. “If the situation had been different, maybe. There was definitely a connection. But the timing was wrong. I was married. I had an affair for all the wrong reasons.”

  “Like what?”

  Alicia stared at the fake money in her hand. “Loneliness, I guess, but also poor self-esteem. Possibly an ugly desire to lash back at my unfa
ithful husband.”

  “Oh.”

  Alicia gave her a sidelong look. “You think that doesn’t sound at all romantic.”

  “I thought it might have been more…you know.”

  “What? Passions beyond our control, that sort of thing? Oh, at the time I believed it was.” She began to sort the money once more. “It’s so very easy to talk oneself both into and out of relationships.”

  “So how can you tell when you’ve found the right one?”

  That made Alicia laugh. “Heavens, I don’t know! I’m the very last person to ask. In fact, if you ever find the answer, call me. I’d be interested. Not that it’s relevant now. All that relationship stuff is far behind me.”

  “You’re still young,” said Cressa, which was charitable of her. Alicia could clearly remember how ancient fifty-one had once seemed.

  “Thank you. However, I’m happy as I am, enjoying my freedom since I resigned my job.”

  Cressa put the community chest cards down, picked up some houses and began stacking them end on end. It struck Alicia that this was symbolic of the young woman’s life. She was full of action but didn’t seem to achieve much in the long run.

  “Don’t you get lonely? I mean, Adam and I aren’t much company a lot of the time.”

  Alicia did feel alone often. She missed Sass and Jake and the boys. Being part of a family again for a while had been fun. But she wasn’t going to indulge in self-pity. There had been too much of that in the past, along with self-loathing. “At the risk of sounding clichéd, I’m actually finding it very therapeutic to get to know myself again.”

  “Is that because you aren’t—I mean, you’re getting over…that is, getting better?”

  Part of Alicia winced, but another part appreciated Cressa’s clumsy attempt to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Adam was still tiptoeing around the issue, pretending it wasn’t there, which was why Alicia had ambushed him in the game. It had erupted out of frustration of being continually treated with kid gloves. She loved that he cared, but she ached for some real communication.

  “Yes, since I stopped drinking, I’ve found I can think clearly again.” She put the lid on the box. “Of course, it does mean I have to face up to my many failures.” Cressa began to demur, but Alicia shook her head. “No, I’m past platitudes and pretenses. I did okay for my kids. I kept them housed and fed and clothed. I wasn’t there enough for them emotionally, though, I realize that. But something went right.” She smiled. “I’ve got the best children a mother could hope for. They’re all fine adults.”

  The tragedy was her boys couldn’t see that yet. They were both wrestling demons. With Jake’s help, Sass had overcome hers.

  “Yeah, Sass seems amazing. Adam’s pretty cool, too.” Then, as if she’d said too much, Cressa abruptly changed the subject again. “So, what will you do when you get back to the States?”

  “Truthfully? I don’t have a clue.” Alicia laughed, suddenly feeling young and mischievous. “I haven’t been this free since I got pregnant at nineteen.”

  “And had to get married. I remember you telling me the other night. You know,” said Cressa, not making eye contact, “that’s why I landed up nearly marrying Brian.”

  That went some way to explaining this young woman. “What happened?” Alicia asked, trying to sound both gentle and matter-of-fact.

  “I miscarried.” She said the words boldly.

  “Oh, my dear.” Alicia put out a hand, but Cressa pulled back out of the light.

  “These things happen. No biggie. Best thing, really. Can’t imagine being a mother and tied down. Instead of like now—” she gave a bright smile “—when I can go where life takes me.”

  “That’s good,” Alicia said cautiously, not sure how to read this conversation.

  “It’s great, I can tell you. Everything’s an adventure. I’m always meeting new people, having new experiences.”

  She spoke with raffish confidence and Alicia could see why her son was fascinated. But she felt the stirrings of unease for Adam.

  “Well, now,” she said. “That does sound very free.”

  Cressa leaned forward, so the light of the lamp fell fully on her face. “What is it?”

  “What do you mean?” Alicia played ignorant.

  “There’s something you’re not saying.”

  She was no fool, this young woman. At the beginning of the conversation their friendly politeness had slipped comfortably into familiarity. But somehow, in the past few minutes, she and Cressa had jumped over weeks of getting-to-know-yous. Alicia hesitated, tempted to pull back and spare Cressa, but her urge to protect Adam was too strong.

  “I was just thinking how being free and being lost can sometimes look the same.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE STORM WORSENED in the following hours, rain lashing the house, the howling wind whipping the trees. Immersed in his studies, Adam didn’t pay it much mind, but nearing midnight a different noise caught his attention. It sounded like a faint shout. There seemed to be a distant banging, but nothing else penetrated the wind and the rain, so he went back to his books. Then he heard it again. He cocked his head. Perhaps his tiredness was giving him hallucinations. He’d been studying all day apart from meals and the time-out to play Monopoly. His eyes were aching and his back was stiff. Maybe this was the equivalent of aural exhaustion.

  The third time the noise definitely sounded like his name. Distant but urgent. Alicia would have gone to bed hours ago. Leaping to his feet, he called out, “Cressa?”

  The house was very quiet as he tore through it. In the kitchen the yell was louder and more distinct, as was the sound of banging metal. “Adam, help!”

  Wrenching the back door open, he peered into the wild night. It was pitch-black out and impossible to see through the torrential rain. “Cressa,” he bellowed.

  “Adam!” He heard strained relief in her voice. “Quick, I’m going to fall.”

  He began running toward the garage, where the sound was coming from. As he drew closer, he could make out a figure swinging from the gutter at the tallest peak of the high roof. Above her he could see a heavy sheet of corrugated metal flapping freely on two sides. A big gust would rip it off.

  “Cressa, hang on!”

  Images of her falling jolted his heart as he raced across the yard, skidding through mud, splashing into deep puddles, dashing the rain from his eyes. He hardly noticed he was drenched in seconds.

  “My fingers are slipping.”

  He was right under her when she fell, flattening them both into the mud.

  “Oh, my God, Adam.” She immediately scrambled off him. “Are you okay? Have I killed you?”

  She’d knocked the wind out of him. He tried to suck in oxygen, but his lungs refused to cooperate. Light exploded in front of his eyes. Then the light steadied and he realized Cressa was aiming a flashlight at his face. He went to yell at her, coughed instead, and blessed air flowed into his body again.

  “What the hell were you up to?” His question came out as a croak.

  Rain poured down her face, and her hair hung in rat tails. She grinned. “Thank heavens! I’m so relieved to hear you speak. I was just rehearsing my ‘Alicia, I’m terribly sorry, but I just killed your son’ speech.”

  She helped him get to his feet. Still shaken, he tried to collect shattered thoughts. “What about you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. You provided a nice soft landing.”

  He grunted. He had a lot of words in his head—most of them not nice at all—but he wasn’t yet up to shouting more than the necessary. “What the hell were you doing?” That was better. Severity was there and volume was returning, too. Another five minutes and he’d be able to give her a piece of his mind.

  “I was trying to fix the roof. Look.” She shouted above the noise of the wind and gestured upward.

  “I saw that. But alone? Why didn’t you come and get me?”

  She held out her hands. “For a few nails? I’m perfectly cap
able, you know.”

  He wanted to shake her. “Clearly, you’re not.” They had to shout because of the storm. He’d have been shouting anyway.

  “The ladder slipped.”

  She made it sound as though it wasn’t her fault at all.

  “Don’t they teach you anything in school about safety in the workplace?”

  She wouldn’t look at him and he decided to save the rest of his harangue for later. He was cold, wet and furious. “Where’re the damned hammer and nails?”

  “I’ll do it. You just hold the ladder.”

  He glared at her so sternly that she shut up and instead turned the flashlight on the mud and soaked grass around their feet. The fallen ladder was nearby. Something glistened; he bent and retrieved the hammer. The nails took a few minutes longer. He raised the ladder and felt it being violently buffeted. Anger surged. She could have killed herself with her foolhardiness. Damn woman and her damn silly notions.

  She didn’t say a word as she held the ladder, and he felt grim satisfaction when he saw in the glimmer of the flashlight that she at least looked a little chastened. The job itself took only a few minutes, though brute force was required to wrestle down the piece of metal and bang the first holding nail in. Did she honestly think she’d have the strength or the reach to do such a job on her own?

  Pounding with the hammer vented some of his feelings. The last nail got a couple of extra whacks to assuage some of his desire to throttle her. In silence he descended the ladder and put it away. In silence they trudged back to the kitchen. There was no point in racing. She was wearing an oversize raincoat, while he was already saturated.

  At the door she kicked off her big boots. His sneakers were soaked and he realized the soles could have been treacherously slippery. He’d been so livid he hadn’t stopped to consider. No way would he admit that, however. The moral high ground was his territory and he intended to keep his flag firmly hoisted above it.