by Roz Denny
"Hi, Mom. It's Gabe. Grady said you called. What's up?" He listened for a moment, then straightened. "What?" he yelled. Jumping up, he covered the mouthpiece and shouted for Sarah.
She appeared in the kitchen doorway, her red-rimmed eyes dark and wary. "Tell me," she rasped. "Have the police found something?"
He smiled and motioned her forward. "Not the police. My mother." His voice rose in excitement. "Near as I can understand, Mike got mixed up on the numbers I gave him and called my parents, instead of me. She told him to stay by the pay phone and that she'd come get him. Once she heard his story—how he was mad at you and running away—she promised to locate me. When she couldn't find me anywhere, she talked him into trying you. But by then, you must have been out looking. She never got through to the police. She's been in a tizzy, knowing how frantic you must be."
He reached for Sarah and dropped a happy kiss on the top of her head. "Do you want to talk to him on the phone, or should we turn off that coffee and make tracks over there?"
"Oh, yes, let's just go," she said, covering her mouth with both hands. "Right after you phone the captain and tell him Mike's been found." This time, the tears pouring down her cheeks were tears of joy.
"I can't believe it," she said for about the fiftieth time as they took a circuitous route around roadblocks to an exclusive region of homes on the cliffs overlooking Diamond Head. "Why didn't she just bring him home?"
Gabe squeezed her knee. "Are you kidding? After her escapades with two rambunctious boys, she probably figured he'd just try something later. That's only a guess, mind you."
Sarah glanced at him and smiled. "I thought you said you only tried running away once."
He looked abashed. "Uh, did I say that?"
She laughed, then threw up her hands. "Do you know how good it feels to laugh? I didn't think I ever would again."
He traced a finger down her nose and over her lips. "You don't laugh enough. Marry me, and I'll guarantee you a lifetime filled with love and laughter." Totally unrehearsed, the words had just seemed to tumble out.
Sarah gaped. She sat very straight and folded her hands tightly in her lap, hardly daring to breathe. It was foolish. And crazy. And so tempting.
"Don't answer now if you're going to say no," he said urgently. "I realize my timing is lousy. I'd intended to bombard you with candy and flowers and then offer you all the right words and a ring during a romantic dinner for two." He shrugged repentantly. "Heck of a thing, a guy telling you he loves you when all your defenses are down." Gabe knew he was rambling, but she'd gone so still it scared the hell out of him. He watched her carefully.
Sarah placed a hand on his stubbled cheek. She couldn't help thinking, again, how much he looked like Mike. "Are you sure you're not just caught up in the moment, Gabe? I know you've been alarmed for Mike. We've shared quite a dramatic few hours."
He turned his face and kissed her palm. "If we weren't parked in front of my parents' gate—and if my mother, bless her heart, wasn't viewing this whole scene on her security monitor—I'd show you dramatic. X-rated. It's markedly different from what I feel for your son, Mrs. Michaels."
She blinked as the gates swung inward and tried to escape the red eye of the sensor. "Oh, Lord. What must she be thinking about my touching you like this? I mean, we know how your sister-in-law feels about me."
Grinning, Gabe parked behind a midnight-blue Rolls blocking the circular drive. His father's car. Wonder of wonders—the old man was home. "Don't think Mother's like Mariel. Basically she's old-fashioned. She'll probably ask what your intentions are toward her poor innocent son." He laughed, then swallowed it as Sarah got a look at Billings, the butler who'd run the Parker home since before Gabe was born—and was now striding purposefully down the marble steps to help Sarah from the car. At six foot five, and three hundred pounds, he resembled a tank in a tux.
Her eyes were wide. Stunned.
It amused Gabe to see her give a smart tug on her shorts and smooth a nervous hand over her hair.
"Billings, you're spooking the lady. And don't you dare tell her any stories about my wild youth. Skip right to what a nice guy I am."
"Ah. Is this our young visitor's mother?" The big man's smile grew. He offered Sarah his arm and patted her hand, saying conspiratorially, "That boy of yours reminds me of Gabriel at the same age. Except that your son has better manners."
Gabe sputtered, and it was Sarah's turn to laugh outright.
"I can tell you don't really know him," she said. "Those are his company manners. I suspect he's more like Gabe than you know. In fact, he's given us quite a fright today. Is he all right? I thought for sure he'd come out to meet us."
Gabe fell back a pace, pleased to see that Sarah had gotten over the first shock of seeing his parents' opulent home. He'd have to tell her it was their style, not his. And he'd have to tell the family that he was leaving the hotel business for good. The marina provided more than enough income to support a family.
But when Billings ushered them into the den, the sight greeting him drove everything else from Gabe's mind. His father—the hard-driving, gruff-talking billionaire—was stretched out on his fifty-thousand dollar Aubusson rug playing chess with Sarah's son. Gabe was struck speechless. He'd lost count of all the times, as a boy, he'd asked his father to play and been turned down because his dad was too busy.
Mike looked up and waved. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Gabe. Grampa Dave is teachin' me how to play chest. It's compelcated, but he thinks I'm doin' real good."
"Complicated," Sarah and Gabe said together. Surprised, they turned and looked at one another just as they both said "chess" in wondering tones.
"Mike," Sarah chided when she'd stopped laughing, "we've been worried sick about you. Don't we rate more than a casual hi? And who gave you permission to call Gabe's father anything but Mr. Parker?"
"Um, I did." Flushing, the elder Parker scrambled to his feet. He studied Sarah through eyes very like Gabe's in color and clarity before turning to look helplessly at his wife, who'd just come in. "Didn't you tell me Gabe was gonna marry this lady?" he muttered in a gruff voice.
Nonplussed, the attractive older woman, half his size, slipped her arm through his. "Well, David," she scolded gently, "I'm afraid you may have precipitated his asking."
Gabe didn't let his father dangle in the noose of his own making for too long, although he was tempted—seeing as it was the first time he'd seen the old man at a loss for words. "Relax, Pop. I already asked her. She just hasn't given me an answer. Yet." He tugged at one ear. "I don't suppose she can hear the question too many times, though."
He crossed the room and knelt beside Mike. "It might help my case if you promised not to pull a stunt like this again, kicker. You really gave us a bad scare."
Mike lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry. I was scared, too. The sirens… And they showed all that stuff on TV 'bout the waves that hit here before. I was real scared for my mom, 'specially after Gramma Charlotte said she wasn't home." Suddenly a confident grin edged out his frown. "Grampa Dave said you were too smart to let the tidal wave get you. I shoulda known you'd take care of Mom." Getting awkwardly to his feet, he ran across the room and flung his arms around his mother's waist. "I won't ever do nothin' like that again. I promise."
Gabe and his father locked eyes a moment, then they both turned to watch mother and child. David Parker's hand came out to rest lightly on his son's shoulder.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad," Gabe said with feeling. "All these years…I've never known what you thought."
"Yes, well, I never doubted your ability to survive. You're a lot like my father in that respect." The older man tipped his silvery head toward Mike. "That boy's stubborn, too. I hope you plan to spend some time with him. Don't make the same mistakes I did. I've regretted it more than you know. So many years—they just seemed to get away."
"Dad." Gabe's voice cracked. He brushed one thumb over his stubbled jaw, regained his composure and said with some hesitation, "Sarah hasn
't agreed to marry me. Don't steamroll her." He shot her an anxious look then, aware that he hadn't exactly trodden too softly himself.
Embarrassed at being the object of their conversation, Sarah combed nervous fingers through Mike's golden curls until he ducked away from her hand.
Gabe's mother offered her a sympathetic smile. "I doubt anyone here has eaten much today," she said. "We tried feeding Mike, but I think he was too troubled by what he'd done to eat. Could I interest anyone in fried chicken, potato salad and chocolate-chip cookies?"
"Oh, boy! Oh, boy!" Mike hopped around, begging to stay.
Sarah told him to settle down, then said, "Why, that's Mike's favorite dinner. In fact, I was making the very same thing at home before all this happened."
"Really?" Gabe's mother arched a brow. "Funny. It's David's and Gabe's favorite, too."
Mike grabbed Sarah's hand, then reached for Gabe's. Peeking slyly at one, then the other, he said as if it was a matter of course, "If you guys got married, we could take one of them honeymooms on Gabe's boat—like I seen once on TV. Mom can bring her fried chicken, potato salad and cookies. Gabe and me'll drive the boat."
"Sail the boat, kicker," Gabe said. "And the word is honeymoon. But kids don't go."
"They don't?" Mike's face fell.
"No," Sarah said. "No kids allowed. The honeymoon is just for Gabe and me."
Gabe threw her a glance, his heart climbing into his throat. Did that mean…? He waited impatiently for her to elaborate.
Mike stepped back to stand beside Gabe's father. "Boy, Grampa Dave," he said with a sigh. "I didn't think Mom'd ever say she'd go. Now can I stay here and learn more about chest like me and you planned?"
"Chess," the elder Parker corrected, grinning broadly. "And yes, you may."
"Mike!" Sarah was horrified until she noticed that all three Parkers were trying to suppress smiles. "Oh, I give up." She joined the laughter with an overwhelming sense of relief. She knew now that Gabe's real world was no different from her own—knew that the same things mattered to both of them. She knew it with a certainty that reached to the bottom of her heart..
Gabe wrapped her in a bear hug and gave her a long leisurely kiss. When at last he let her go, he muttered, "I'd feel a whole lot better if you mentioned somewhere in here that you loved me."
Gabe's parents each snatched one of Mike's hands and hustled him toward the door. He wiggled loose and craned his neck. "What you doin', Gabe? Teachin' Mom to kiss?"
Sarah's face flamed.
"Nope," Gabe answered. "She does that pretty well now."
"Oh!" Mike trudged after Gabe's parents. At the door he turned again. "Aunt Mitzi said someone hadda show her how to hang loose. I'm kinda countin' on you, Gabe. Else I ain't never gonna get to see 'em surf."
"After the doctor says you're well," Sarah promised, although she didn't even scold him for saying "ain't." She smiled up into Gabe's eyes. If that last tidbit wasn't proof of her love, after all the times she'd said no to surfing, she didn't know what was.
"All right!" Mike yelped, starting to skip. Then he stopped as if he'd thought better of it and walked sedately through the archway.
Gabe held his tongue until they seemed to be alone. Sliding his arms down Sarah's back, he molded her body tightly to his. "Is that what this is about?" he growled. "Banishing ex-husbands and surfing phobias, Sarah?" It had better not be, his look warned. He was just old-fashioned enough to want the words.
She shook her head. "It's about love—and about me trusting you enough to hang loose." Sarah brushed a finger over the deep crease caused by his sudden grin. "Don't you recognize the change?"
"How loose is loose?" he murmured, dropping a row of kisses from her ear to the pulse hammering in her throat.
"Oh, Gabe," she breathed, "you talk in riddles, just like Mike. From the moment our paths crossed, you two were so much alike it was scary. One more reason I can't help loving you," she mused, following his lips for a kiss.
"At last!" he exclaimed, leaning back triumphantly. "Those little words I've been waiting to hear."
"Zowie!" Mike yelled, withdrawing his nose from around the corner of the door casing. "Mom finally said she loves him. Let's eat, guys."
Gabe threw back his head and laughed. "A man after my own heart."
Sarah punched his arm. "I'll race you to the table."
"Hey," Gabe called. "You've got a head start."
When he rounded the corner after her, Sarah leapt out, threw her arms around his neck and smothered his lips in a kiss more ardent than the one he'd bestowed on her. "Is that loose enough to take your mind off food, Parker?" she asked, suddenly breathless.
He groaned. "If you hang much looser, lady, I can almost guarantee the honeymoom, as our son calls it, will precede the wedding. As it is, I'm considering letting Grady assess the marina damage all by his lonesome."
At the words "our son," Sarah's heart filled to bursting. They were going to be a family. She and Mike and Gabe.
And wouldn't Mitzi be furious—missing the news of the decade? Smiling, Sarah rose on tiptoe and claimed another lengthy kiss.
Gabe didn't quite know how to break it to those waiting in the kitchen. But kissing Sarah beat fried chicken, potato salad—and even chocolate-chip cookies.
EPILOGUE
"Hurry up, will you, Dad? Mom'll be hoppin' up and down, and she'll say it's my fault we're late." Mike gave the cocker spaniel Gabe's father had given him for his tenth birthday a final pat and shut the gate.
Gabe unlocked the minivan he'd bought to pick up Sarah and his new offspring from the hospital, pausing to ruffle the slicked-down curls of his adopted son. Mike, he thought, was growing more like him every day. Patience wasn't his long suit, either.
The youngster, trying to act like a grown-up ten, pulled out his comb and juggled gaily wrapped packages while he attempted to flatten his curls again.
It seemed to Gabe that Mike had sprouted a foot since Lou Page had tracked down Farrell Michaels and got him to sign the adoption papers.
"Mom don't like surprises," the boy said as he climbed into the van and buckled in.
"Doesn't," Gabe corrected. It had become second nature to him. "But to which surprise are you referring? She's had a few lately."
"That nanny Gramma Charlotte sent. The mess you and Grampa Dave made addin' bedrooms was bad 'nuff. A nanny'll send her into orbit. You sure Mom'll like my presents?" he asked before Gabe could mention the g's he'd dropped.
"What's not to like?" Gabe asked, backing over the newly asphalted drive onto the main street. "They're frilly."
Mike leaned over Gabe's shoulder. "Jim Cline said babies are a lot like puppies. They sleep and eat. Is that true?"
Gabe laughed. If he had a dollar for every time over the past year and a half that Mike had demanded to know if something was true, he'd be a rich man. "True enough, son," he concurred. "Plus, they wet."
"Oh." Mike sat back, looking thoughtful. "Is that 'cause they're girls? Girls are always runnin' to the bathroom when we chase 'em at recess," he said wisely.
This time Gabe swallowed his grin. "Now that will surprise your mother, kicker. She says her books don't have nearly enough about infatuation."
"Fatuation?" The boy wrinkled his nose. "Susan Dixon isn't fat. She's pretty. She has long red hair. Don'cha 'member? Susan was at soccer camp this summer. She plays soccer real good."
"Susan?" Gabe glanced sharply in the rearview mirror. "I see. That's why you chose the name for your sister so readily. Sue the soccer ace."
Mike blushed. "You said Mom liked the name."
"She does. Her only stipulation was nothing cutesy, like DeeDee or Sheena. Hey, here we are, kicker. St. Jude's. Are you ready for this?"
"Sure. Feed 'em. Burp 'em. Rock 'em. It's cool."
"Ye-e-es," Gabe drawled as they got out. "More or less. Why don't you wait in the lobby? Your mother promised to be ready."
"Hurry up. I feel dumb holdin' pink packages. What if one of the guys
sees me?"
"Give them one of the lollipops that say 'It's a girl!'"
Sarah was ready when Gabe stepped into her room. He kissed her hello and said how beautiful she was as he helped her into the wheelchair—a requisite for new mothers. Then he kissed his babies. "Mike's downstairs. He bought presents all by himself with his lawn-mowing money. You'll be glad to hear I steered him away from the hot-pink and chartreuse soccer balls."
"Will he be jealous, do you think?" Sarah asked worriedly, reaching for Gabe's hand as the elevator began its descent. He glanced over at the nurses who were carrying his daughters and rolled his eyes. "I think we'll keep him too busy for that, love."
The elevator door slid open, and Mike spotted them at once. He stood as they approached. Packages fell at his feet. "Wow," he said, frankly awed. "I know Dad said we had triples, but I didn't know they'd all look alike."
"Triplets," Sarah corrected, moving to hug him. "Abigail, Emily and Susan, meet your big brother, Mike." She indicated three rosebud faces, all sound asleep. Before she could say more, the outer doors opened and Mitzi and Osamu rushed in carrying three large pink panda bears, followed closely by Gabe's parents, who clutched three dolls.
A very pregnant Mitzi stopped short and flashed Sarah a big grin, along with the island hang-loose sign. "I've never seen you looking so content, my friend," she said, "but see if I ever advise you to hang loose again."
Osamu stepped up, shook Gabe's hand and tweaked Sarah's nose. Yet it was at Mike that he winked and said solemnly, "I swear this wasn't in the plan when I recommended Befriend an Island Child to your mother. I'm still in a fog over the prospect of one baby. And you have three."
"I know, Sam," said Mike. "Ain't I the luckiest kid on Oahu?"
"Ain't, Mike!" a chorus of adults scolded.
The boy shot them a long-suffering look and picked up his three pink packages. "I think we should go home and get busy feedin' and burpin' these triples, so you guys won't have so much time to fuss about the way I talk. That's what I think."