Building Dreams

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Building Dreams Page 3

by Ginna Gray

"I changed my mind, okay. I think it's more important that I spend some time with Mike."

  Reilly leaned back against his own desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "All right. What's bugging you?"

  The question earned him a sour look. "What's bugging me? I'll tell you what's bugging me. Mike is spending practically every waking moment at the widow Benson's apartment. He's been over there everyday for four straight days, ever since Saturday when she started moving in. In the mornings he gobbles down his breakfast and bolts out of the apartment like he's going to a fire. All I hear out of him is 'Tess this' and 'Tess that,' " he mimicked in a nasty singsong. The mere mention of the woman's name made Ryan want to grind his teeth.

  "It'll pass. Anyway, where's the harm? She seems like a nice person."

  Ryan snorted. "People are seldom what they seem. Especially women. Regardless, I don't want Mike to get attached to her."

  "Why not? The boy could use some feminine influence in his life."

  "He has Mom and his aunts for that," Ryan argued. "And there's Erin and Elise and David's wife, Abby. He has plenty of women in his life."

  "C'mon, Ryan. They all live in other towns. Erin and Elise live in another state, for Pete's sake. Mike sees them on holidays and at family gatherings. Look, the kid's been motherless for the last eight years. It's only natural that he'd try to find a substitute. Face it, brother. Mike needs a mother."

  "The hell he does! Mike and I are doing just fine on our own." Glaring at his brother, Ryan thumbed his chest angrily. "Whatever my son needs, I'll give him."

  "Hey. Don't get defensive on me. You've done a great job with Mike. Nobody's saying you haven't. But face it, there are just some things that only a mother can provide."

  "And you expect me to believe that's why Mike is hanging around the Benson woman? Because he's looking for a mother substitute?" He gave a bark of scornful laughter. "Yeah, right. That's why he picked a delectable redhead with sexy eyes.''

  A grin spread over Reilly's face. "So you noticed, huh?"

  "I'm not blind," Ryan snapped. "Just because I don't care for women or trust them doesn't mean I can't appreciate the way they look."

  "Good. I'm glad to hear it," his brother said with a wink. "Maybe there's hope for you yet where women are concerned." With a smug smile on his face, Reilly walked over to a metal locker, removed a pair of jeans and a chambray work shirt, sent his brother a taunting wink and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Ryan's icy stare followed him and bore into the bathroom door. His eyes narrowed into two slits. Don't count on it, brother.

  ❧

  Balancing on Tess's kitchen step stool, Mike hooked the curtain rod over the bracket and snapped it into place. "There. That does it. That's the last one," he said, and jumped down in one agile leap.

  Tess moved in and attached the tiebacks to the dotted Swiss curtains. When she had fluffed the folds and adjusted the drape just so, they both stepped back to admire their handiwork.

  "Oh, Mike. They look lovely. In fact, the whole place looks lovely."

  Turning in a slow circle, she surveyed with pleasure what she could see of the apartment, which at present was the nursery, where she and Mike were, and a bit of her bedroom across the hall. All of her furniture was arranged where she wanted it, curtains or draperies framed every window, her pictures and paintings hung on the walls and all of her familiar keepsakes and decorative items were in place. Every box and carton had been unpacked and their contents put away. There wasn't so much as a scrap of bubble wrap or packing material in sight.

  "I can't believe we got it all done so quickly. I really don't know how to thank you, Mike. You've been such a tremendous help. With Amanda out of town on assignment these past few days, I would have been on my own if it hadn't been for you. I never would have managed without you."

  She turned to Mike, but her grateful smile collapsed when she saw his face. He looked as though he had just lost his best friend. "Why, Mike. What's wrong?"

  "Nothing." He shrugged and looked at the floor, his mouth sulky. "We're all done, huh?"

  "Yes. There's not a single thing left to do."

  "I guess that means I won't be seeing much of you anymore. I mean..." He shrugged again and dug the toe of his sneaker into the carpet. "Now that we're all done, there's no reason for me to come over.''

  Abruptly, the reason for his distress became clear. Tess gazed tenderly at his woebegone face, her heart melting. "Oh, Mike." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it between both of hers and looked deep into his eyes. "Of course there's a reason for you to come over. We're friends. That's all the reason you need. You're welcome to visit me anytime you Hke."

  Mike looked up, a glimmer of hope in his blue eyes. "Really? You mean it?" His voice broke, sliding from a manly baritone into a squeak, but for once he didn't look discomfited.

  "Yes, of course I mean it. The truth is, I'll be hurt if you don't come over often. I'm new here, remember. You're the only one in the whole complex I know. If you don't visit me I'm going to be terribly lonely."

  "Oh, don't worry," he said, perking up dramatically. "I'll be here. I promise."

  "Good." She gave his hand a brisk pat. "Now that we have that settled, you'd better hurry if you're going to that game with your father.''

  "Jeez! I almost forgot. I've gotta get cleaned up before he gets home." He took off at a lope. Smiling, less followed more slowly. She waddled into the living room just in time to see Mike streak out the front door. "Bye, Tess! See ya tomorrow!"

  Chuckling, she shook her head and eased down onto the sofa.

  Tess was getting so large, her body was becoming more cumbersome by the day. Almost all movement was awkward for her, but sitting down was particularly difficult. Getting up was even worse.

  Leaning forward, Tess stuffed a pillow behind her back and lifted her feet onto the hassock. With a sigh, she leaned back and splayed her hands on top of her swollen tummy.

  "Well, baby. Here we are. This is home now. No matter what anyone else thinks, I know I'm doing the right thing. When you get here, you're going to have my time. All my time."

  Beneath her palms, the baby kicked as though he or she understood, and Tess smiled. "And you know what else? We're going to make each other happy, too, you and I. We'd better," she added with a wry chuckle. "We're all we've got. It's just the two of us, sweetheart."

  Tess had read that a newborn infant recognized its mother's voice from hearing it while in the womb, and that the baby drew comfort from the sound. It worried her that, living alone as she did, she seldom had anyone with whom to talk. To compensate, she had started carrying on one-sided conversations with her unborn child so that the baby would grow accustomed to her voice. Also, it made Tess feel less alone.

  Rubbing her distended abdomen, Tess wrinkled her nose. "Well...actually...that's not absolutely true. There is your daddy's family. But the Bensons live way up north. And anyway, they and your daddy were estranged. That means they didn't get along," she added in a confiding whisper.

  "Not that the Bensons are bad people, mind you. In fact, they're considered pillars of Boston society. The problem is they're...well...managing." Actually, Tom had called them manipulative and domineering, but she hesitated to use such harsh words when talking to the baby. They were also distant and snooty, but Tess kept that thought to herself. "That's why Daddy stayed away from them. And somehow I don't think he would like for us to go to them for help, either."

  The baby kicked again, and Tess moved her hands over her tummy in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Resting her head against the edge of the sofa back, she gazed at the ceiling through half-closed eyes. During her six-year marriage to Tom she had met his parents only once—briefly—when they had come to town to attend some sort of charity gala. She and Tom had met them for dinner at a posh restaurant, where they had endured three interminable hours of stiff, at times interrogating, conversation. She had gotten the impression that the elder Bensons had not been all that taken with her.

&nbs
p; Tess shook her head at the memory, a bemused half-smile tugging at her lips. It still boggled her mind that her warm, loving, unpretentious husband had been the offspring of two such stuffed shirts as Harold and Enid Benson.

  Tess knew Tom's older brother Charles only slightly better. He had visited them three or four times when he'd been in town on family business. Though not as stiff as his parents, he was ultra sophisticated and polished, but at least he had made a halfhearted effort to be friendly.

  As yet, the Bensons did not know about the baby. The last contact she'd had with any of them—Charles included—had been at Tom's funeral, and she hadn't known then that she was pregnant. She had written to them twice but received no reply. She could only conclude that to Tom's family, his death had severed whatever tenuous tie had existed between them.

  Should she write and tell them about the baby? Tess groaned. She had been asking herself that question for months. On the one hand, it seemed wrong not to. But on the other hand, she was uneasy about how they would react to the news. Tom had always maintained that the only way to remain independent from his family was to have as little to do with them as possible. She certainly did not want them interfering or trying to take control of her child, as they had tried to control Tom.

  Tess didn't know what to do, so she kept putting the decision off. There was plenty of time.

  From the McCalls' apartment on the other side of her living room wall, came the faint sound of a shower running and Mike singing at the top of his lungs in his cracked voice Tess grinned and closed her eyes. A minute later she heard Ryan McCall climb the stairs and enter the apartment.

  Suddenly an idea occurred to her. Tess opened her eyes and sat up, mulling it over. Of course. Why hadn't she thought of it sooner. She had been trying to come up with a way to thank Mike properly for all his help, and this was perfect. She would do it right now.

  Getting up off the sofa proved difficult but after three tries she finally heaved herself to her feet and headed for the telephone.

  Mike's father answered on the second ring.

  "Mr. McCall, this is Tess Benson. I—"

  "Mike can't come to the phone right now," he said shortly. "He's in the shower. You'll have to call back later."

  "Oh, but I'm not calling for Mike," Tess said in a rush, sensing he was about to hang up. "I called to talk to you."

  The statement met dead silence at the other end of the line.

  Suddenly, Tess felt uneasy and she wasn't sure why. "I uh... I called to invite you and Mike over for dinner Friday night. After all he's done to hel—"

  "No."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "I said no. I'm turning down your invitation."

  "I..." Tess was so flustered she could barely think. She had never met anyone quite as abrupt as Ryan McCall. "Oh. I see. Well, look, if Friday isn't convenient we can make it-"

  "The answer would still be no. It isn't a matter of inconvenience. I'm simply not interested in having dinner with you."

  Tess was shocked to the core of her being. She could not utter a sound, and for several seconds the line hummed with a stunned silence. Never in her life had anyone spoken to her with such brutal frankness. Hadn't the man ever heard of tact or social grace?

  Finally Tess cleared her throat. "I see. Mr. McCall, have I offended you in some way? If so, I assure you it was unintentional."

  "Very good, Mrs. Benson. That really sounded sincere. But you're wasting your time."

  "I— Pardon me? I don't understand."

  "You can cut out the innocent act. I know what you're up to."

  "Up to?"

  "Having Mike over constantly. Flattering him, making him like you. Inviting the two of us over for dinner."

  "Mr. McCall, I have no idea what you're talking about. I merely thought that you and your son would enjoy a home-cooked meal. It was just my way of thanking Mike for his help and you for allowing him to give it."

  "Yeah, right," he sneered. "You know, at first I thought you were one of those licentious women who get their kicks by seducing young boys."

  "What!?"

  "But now I realize that you were just using Mike to get to me," Ryan continued without missing a beat.

  "Using— Me—? You—? You mean you thought I would seduce—? Oh! Ohhh! Why, you... you..."

  Tess sputtered and fumed, too shocked and enraged to think of anything vile enough to call him.

  "Save your outraged act for someone else," Ryan snapped. "It doesn't work on me. As I said, you're wasting your time, Mrs. Benson. I'm just not interested."

  Tess gulped a deep breath and fought for control. "Mr. McCall, you are not only a colossal egotist, you're sick and disgusting! I am hardly at the peak of my sexual attractiveness at the moment, but even if I were, let me assure you that I would not be interested in you!"

  She had started off speaking slowly and distinctly through her clenched teeth but with each word her voice rose in pitch and volume, until by the time she reached the end she was shrieking.

  "Good. Then we understand each other," he said matter-of-factly, and hung up.

  ❧

  Tess gasped and jerked the receiver away from her ear. She stared at it. "Oh! Of all the—!" She slammed the phone down so hard it jumped out of its cradle and she had to do it again, which made her all the more furious.

  Unable to move, she stood there, shaking all over, her heart pounding, breathing hard. Several seconds passed before she noticed. Oh, Lord. It couldn't be good for the baby to get so upset, she thought. Calm down. Just calm down.

  Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes, splayed one hand against her heaving chest, the other across her belly and drew several deep breaths.

  "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," she soothed in a caressing voice. "I shouldn't have yelled like that. But Mommy's okay now. Everything's fine."

  Gathering her scattered composure, Tess pushed away from the wall and returned to the sofa, lowering herself gingerly onto the cushion. She still felt shaky. No one had ever made her that angry before. She hadn't known she could get that angry.

  But then, who wouldn't if they had to deal with an obnoxious man like Ryan McCall?

  When she had met him, she had given him the benefit of the doubt and put his abruptness down to a bad mood, but not this time. The man was a rude, evil-minded, ill-tempered brute. Imagine! Accusing her, in her condition, of coming on to him! And worse, of trying to seduce his thirteen-year-old son. It was a mystery how that hateful man ever produced a boy like Mike.

  Mike. Tess sighed, sadness washing over her. As bad as she hated to, she would have to break ail ties with the boy. His father obviously did not approve of their friendship. Anyway, the way things stood, she doubted that she could hide her feelings. Certainly she wouldn't be able to hold her tongue whenever Mike mentioned his father, which was sure to be often. Mike and his dad were close, and the boy clearly adored him. Whatever else he was, Ryan McCall was apparently a good parent.

  Tess discovered that she did not have the heart to tell Mike that they could no longer be friends. When faced with those guileless blue eyes and that eager face, she simply could not utter the words. So she tried to discourage him by withdrawing.

  Over the next few days she avoided him whenever she could. When he knocked, she didn't answer her door. She monitored her telephone calls through the answering machine, never picking up when the caller was Mike. When she left her apartment or returned, she did so quietly, tiptoeing in and out like a thief, and feeling as guilty as though she were one. On the few occasions when she did run into him, she pretended to be either in a hurry to get somewhere or terribly busy.

  Mike, however, was not one to be put off by evasions. On the evening of the third day after the disastrous telephone conversation, he waylaid Tess in the hallway outside their apartments.

  ❧

  It was late when she climbed the stairs and found him sitting on the floor outside her door. He looked as though he had every intention of stay
ing there all night if he had to.

  Tess jerked to a halt at the top of the stairs so suddenly that Amanda nearly barrelled into her.

  "Hey! Watch out," her friend yelped, but Tess didn't hear her.

  "Mike! What are you doing here? It's late."

  Mike looked up, his expression sullen. "Waiting to see you."

  "Oh.'' Tess licked her lips and glanced uneasily at her friend. "We've.. .uh.. .we've been to a Lamaze class. Amanda's my coach."

  "Hi there, sweetie. How ya doing?" Amanda said, but he merely shrugged and mumbled, "Okay" before returning his attention to Tess.

  He climbed to his feet and brushed off the seat of his pants. His gaze never left her.

  "I thought you said we were friends."

  "Why... we are, Mike."

  "Then how come you didn't answer your door this morning when I knocked?" Both his look and his tone accused.

  "I ... guess I wasn't here."

  "Your car was in the parking lot. I checked."

  "I see. Well, then..." Tess gestured vaguely. "I must have been in the mail room."

  "Uh-uh. I checked there, too."

  Amanda remained silent. Her shrewd gaze switched back and forth between them.

  "I see. Well...I, uh... I suppose we just missed each other somehow," Tess said lamely.

  Mike stared at her in silence. Tess could feel the guilt written all over her face, but there was nothing to do but brazen it out.

  "Can I come in?" he asked finally.

  "Oh. Well...I'm pretty tired, and it's getting late. Maybe some other time."

  Hurt flashed in Mike's eyes. Then pride took over and his young face grew remote. "Yeah. Sure." He nodded and stuck his hands into his back pockets. "See ya."

  Tess watched him walk away with a lump in her throat.

  "Would you mind telling me what that was all about?" Amanda demanded the moment they stepped inside Tess's apartment. "You were downright cold to that boy."

 

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