Wild Honey

by Veronica Sattler

  “You mean because she’s decided to resume seeing Dr. Martin.” It was the one positive thing Jill clung to; two days after the aborted cruise, Randi had announced just as she was going out the door that she’d made an appointment to see Carol Martin at her office. Just like that. Then she’d left for work—without a word of explanation, without even a hint about what was going on.

  “Well, you’ve got to admit,” David said, “nothing else ever persuaded her to return to counseling.”

  “I know,” Jill said diffidently, “but I wish it weren’t under such…strained circumstances. I mean, if you’d seen her eyes when she returned that evening! They looked—Maybe I’m being silly, but I could’ve sworn they looked…haunted. And then, all that anger. Lord, I wish she’d talk to me about—”

  “Aunt Jill! When’s Mom comin’ home?” Matt’s voice preceded him through the back door. “Is it time yet?”

  Jill quickly pulled herself together and glanced at him. “Matt Terhune, mind your manners and say hello first.” She smiled to soften the chastisement. “You must’ve noticed Uncle David’s car in the drive when you came from Robbie’s.”

  “Uh, yeah.” Matt tossed David a sheepish grin. “Hi, Uncle David.”

  “Hiya, Matt.” David ruffled his hair and made a show of looking him over. “You’ve been growing again, kid. I’d better watch it. Next thing I know, you’ll be borrowing my clothes!”

  Matt giggled, prompting a bark from Ulysses, who’d followed him in. ‘Yeah, ‘n’ I’m gonna grow even bigger, I betcha. Like my friend Travis. He’s real big!”

  David and Jill exchanged a look that said it was all too obvious who still occupied Matt’s thoughts, despite the estrangement between his parents.

  Oblivious to their exchange, Matt turned back to his aunt. “Now can you tell me when Mom’s comin’…puh-Ieez?”

  “Any minute now, honey,” she said with a glance at the clock. “What’s up?”

  He heaved a sigh. “You know—Mom thinks I’m too little for a two-wheeler, but I’m not! I’ve been practicin’ on Robbie’s bike. He let me try it, ‘n’ I can ride it, honest. I only fell once, ‘n’ I didn’t even hurt myself—see?” He held out his palms, which were grass stained but otherwise unblemished.

  “Smart of you to practice on grass,” David said as the sound of a car in the drive drew Matt’s attention.

  “She’s home!” he exclaimed, and raced out the door.

  Jill sighed. “I’d have bought him a bike weeks ago, but Randi—” she gave a helpless shrug “—won’t even agree to letting him have one with training wheels.”

  “You’re still worried about her being overprotective.”

  “Well, isn’t she?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know all that much about raising kids, honey—” he gave her a tender smile “—not yet, anyway. But I do know Matt’s very bright and extremely well coordinated. He seems awfully precocious, while maybe Randi’s just being cautious. You know all those child-development books she’s always reading. Maybe she’s using the guidelines they set for the average four-year-old. I mean, my sister’s kid didn’t even mention a two-wheeler till he was in second grade.”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” Jill replied without much conviction, “but that still doesn’t make things any easier with Matt. I can’t help feeling the poor kid’s straining at the bit, David, and Randi…” She made a helpless gesture.

  “Look, sweetheart,” he said, again taking her hands, “I know how much you love those two, and it’s only natural for you to worry about them. But you’re just weeks away from a very important wedding, love, and in case you’ve forgotten, you’re the main attraction. Brides-to-be are supposed to be happy—” he caught her chin and leaned across to give her a kiss, then smiled into her eyes “—right?”

  “Right,” she murmured with a soft sigh.

  “Atta girl. Now promise me you’ll stop this fretting and leave your sister to Dr. Martin. If Randi’s in danger of becoming an overprotective parent, I’m sure it’s something she’ll address.”

  “Maybe…but we both know there’s a larger issue that needs addressing.”

  “True, but didn’t you once say that Carol counsels the total person? That she doesn’t just address a specific problem?”

  Jill nodded, recalling how Carol had worked on her home environment. “She was as much responsible for helping me to be better organized—to get my homework done on time, that sort of thing—as she was for helping me get past the trauma.”

  “Well, there you are, then. Carol’s sharp. If there’s a problem with the way Randi handles Matt, she’ll see it.”

  “I suppose so,” Jill said, making an effort to look cheerful, since Matt and Randi could be heard approaching.

  For David’s sake, she resolved to leave Randi’s problems to the professional. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what had happened on a certain cruise that was beginning to seem like the dumbest thing she’d ever agreed to.

  “THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS, Jill. I really ‘preciate your tellin’ me.”

  Jill had just told Travis that Randi had gone back into counseling. He shifted his grip on his car phone and sighed. “She won’t even talk to me.”

  “I know,” she replied sympathetically. “But she’s hardly told me any more than I’ve just told you.”

  “So she’s freezin’ you out, too? God, I’m sorry, Jill. I should never have dragged you into this.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly twist my arm. Besides, she hasn’t frozen me out exactly. It’s just that…she’s been awfully quiet lately. I guess we’ll just have to respect her need for privacy. Hey, a guy in your line of work should understand the need to keep secrets occasionally, right?”

  He chuckled. “Right.”

  Jill detected the sadness beneath the chuckle. “Yeah, well, just don’t make me sorry I told you what Randi wouldn’t and get yourself over here. Matt’s been missing you, Trav,” she added softly.

  “Jill, I’m sick with missin’ him—and his mama. Still, I’m afraid Randi wouldn’t ‘preciate—”

  “Not to worry. Matt’s been pestering her, so she’s agreed to let me invite you over—” there was a moment’s hesitation “—when she’s not here, that is.”

  Checking a rude response, Travis scheduled a visit with Matt for the next day.

  “Good enough,” Jill said, “and don’t forget that other thing we talked about, huh?”

  He assured her he wouldn’t and said goodbye, but not before thanking her again for the good news.

  At least, he hoped it was good. He stared broodingly into the distance, not ready yet to pull back onto the highway and resume driving. Randi was in counseling again, thank God. He could only hope it would help her deal with the shattering revelation he’d been inadvertently made privy to on the Sarah Anne. As to whether it helped dismantle the wall she’d erected to shut him out…

  With a growl of frustration, he muttered a choice phrase and started his engine. He really was the world’s biggest fool. It was what he’d always said about people who thought they were in love, wasn’t it? So far, his foray into romantic love had brought him a hell of a lot of grief and not much else. A wise man would just give it up.

  “Dammit,” he said as he pulled onto the highway, “if it weren’t for Matt…”

  The words trailed into silence as an image intruded: the agonized wounded look in Randi’s eyes as she’d stumbled on the truth. As she’d unconsciously voiced the bitter reality behind all that fear. A reality that had lain buried in her subconscious mind for years.

  “Ah, Randi,” he whispered, “I’d give anythin’ to take away your pain. To undo the unspeakable things that put that hellish look in your eyes. But I can’t, and it’s drivin’ me…”

  He sucked in his breath, then released it slowly, forcing himself to abandon this fruitless line of thinking. The truth was, she experienced those things. She had been the victim of sexual abuse as a child, and nothing he said o
r did could change it.

  Taking another calming breath, he forced himself to concentrate on the positive. On the softness of her eyes as they’d danced, on the sound of her laughter. He swallowed thickly. To see her that way again, to hear her laugh, he’d risk everything he had, do whatever it took. And if that made him a fool, so be it.

  Besides, he told himself as he headed for Sunnyfields, romantic love wasn’t the only kind that exacted a toll. A frantic call from his mother, and then another from his father, had alerted him to an unexpected crisis at home. It seemed Troy was furious over something Travis had done. Troy? Furious? His brother didn’t have a furious bone in his body. What in hell was going on?

  “DAMMIT, TRAV, what right d’you have to meddle in my life?”

  Travis gaped at the brother he faced across a stretch of living-room carpet. Troy was furious. Jaw belligerently outthrust, eyes glittering dangerously, his normally mildmannered sibling was looking daggers at him. He couldn’t believe it!

  “Mind tellin’ me what this is all about?” he asked carefully.

  “You bet I’ll tell you!” Troy gestured wildly out the window, where their father could be seen practicing his golf swing. “Out of the clear blue, at breakfast this mornin’, the father you coached informed me he got in touch with Aunt Lousie at Stanford yesterday.”

  Frowning, Travis nodded, still uncertain where this was leading.

  “He also informed me,” Troy went on tightly, “that the way was all clear for me to go there and work with her. And that I had you to thank for it!”

  “Well, hell,” Travis replied, “I thought—”

  “Well, you thought wrong! The fact is, I have no intention of goin’ into medical research. Not with Aunt Louise or anyone else!”

  “But—”

  “But did you take the trouble to find that out?” Troy demanded hotly. “Hell, no. Not the great all-knowin’ Travis McLean! You just come sashayin’ in here and…and take over, don’t you? Well, just who d’you think you are? Who gave you the right to run my life?”

  Travis was floored. It had never occurred to him to check with Troy first. But he loved his brother and he’d known he was unhappy. He’d just assumed…

  But this wasn’t the first time he’d wrongly assumed something about a person he loved. What right did you have to barge into my life this way…to just take over? Randi’s angry words, so similar to his brother’s, came to him with unnerving clarity.

  “Troy,” he said, feeling his way blindly through the possibilities suggested by the jarring comparison, “I never meant to tell you how to run your life. All I wanted—”

  “All you wanted was to be in charge,” Troy accused as he crossed to the door. Reaching it, he turned back, his anger unabated. “Dammit, Travis, you’re every bit as controllin’ as the old man ever was! I’m fed up. From now on, I’ll thank you to butt outta my life!”

  Stunned, Travis watched him slam the door behind him. Finding his way to a chair, he slumped wearily into it, dropping his head into his hands. Bewildered and hurt—he loved Troy and had only meant the best for him—he never heard the door reopen until a soft voice intruded.

  “Guess he was pretty hard on you, huh?”

  He raised his head and met Sarah’s sympathetic gaze. “I could hardly believe it was Troy, talkin’ like that.”

  She sighed. “I know…but, Trav?”

  “Hmm?” he replied absently, still smarting under Troy’s condemning comparison of him to their father. Controlling! Is that what he was?

  Sarah placed a hand gently on his arm. “Travis, Troy sounded awfully harsh, I realize, but think about it. Is that necessarily a bad thing—for him, I mean?”

  Pondering this for a moment, he heaved a sigh. “You’re thinkin’ maybe it’s a good thing, is that it? That maybe ol’ Troy’s been overdue for somethin’ like this?”

  She nodded. “From what I’ve seen and heard from him lately, it could be he’s finally comin’ into his own.”

  “Go on,” he urged, interested despite his bruised feelings.

  “Well, followin’ the reconciliation between you ‘n’ Daddy, a lot of things’ve been happenin’. But I’d say Troy’s behavior’s been the most remarkable…”

  A FEW HOURS LATER Travis climbed into the Alpha, greatly sobered by what he’d learned. Following the exchange with Sarah, he’d sought out his brother and apologized. From the heart, and Troy had known it. Then they’d had a long talk.

  Though Troy didn’t want to go into medical research, he’d made up his mind to make a career change. On his own. Travis had wanted to jump up and hug him, but he’d wisely held back, sobered by the new strength and maturity he saw in Troy; he didn’t need or want approval from his big brother.

  Troy was giving up surgery to study sports medicine. Given his love of sports, it was perfect. So perfect Travis wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him, then throttled the thought; he’d sworn to butt out, and that started now. It wasn’t his business to speculate on his brother’s affairs. Or try to run his life.

  In the end Troy had apologized for the comparison to their father at his worst. He said he realized Travis was motivated by love, whereas the old Trent McLean had been blindly selfish. Still, Travis had acted blindly, too. He hadn’t seen what he was doing.

  Just as he hadn’t seen what he was doing with Randi? A good question. He loved the woman, and he’d have sworn he was only trying to help her. But he’d have sworn the same about Troy, and Troy had practically accused him of being a control freak, for God’s sake! Was that what he was?

  Heaving a sigh, he headed for Langley. The company shrink wouldn’t talk to him, but maybe he could consult the Internet for some insights. He had a lot to think about.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  LIPS PURSED, twisting this way and that, Matt eyed his reflection in his mother’s antique pier glass. They were in her bedroom, and Matt’s apparel for the wedding had just arrived from the tailor. “Boy, this getup sure is fancy,” he muttered.

  “Ring bearer’s an important job, honey,” Randi said fussing with a cuff on his tuxedo pants—no easy matter, given his squirming—“and weddings are pretty fancy affairs.”

  “Yeah, but I’m glad we didn’t get those stupid shorts.” He wrinkled his nose. “They were too fancy.”

  Suspecting Matt’s definition of “fancy” ran along lessthan-positive lines, his mother smiled to herself, but didn’t comment. The “shorts” he spoke of were the formal short pants that were traditional garb for ring bearers. Matt had refused to wear them. And while Jill had gone along, Randi thought he looked so adorable in them she’d tried to push the issue. But not too far, thank goodness.

  It was one of many checks she’d made on such behavior lately. Controlling behavior, according to what she’d learned in sessions with Carol Martin. She hadn’t merely been growing overprotective, as Jill had once suggested; at a time when Matt needed to become less dependent, she’d been trying to keep control of him in lots of little, but telltale, ways.

  Children who’ve suffered abuse often grow into controlling adults. The doctor’s words echoed in her mind. Because they once felt so utterly helpless, they’re driven to prevent this from happening again. By exerting an iron control over their lives, they hope never again to become victims. But through this behavior they make themselves victims of another sort, becoming prisoners of their own fears. And when these fears extend to their children, they can become overcontrolling parents.

  “Mom, how come we don’t do stuff with Travis anymore?”

  Matt’s words jarred her, she blinked at him, trying to focus on his question. Or, more to the point, form a reply.

  Travis was a delicate subject. He was in her thoughts more than she’d admitted to anyone except for Carol, but she avoided discussing him at home. She missed him so fiercely she feared breaking into tears in front of everyone; those she shed at night, aching and alone in her bed, were bad enough.

  But she’d sent Travis awa
y, and he finally seemed to have taken her at her word; following that initial flurry of phone calls, he’d made no further effort to contact her. Ironically this hurt, since she’d avoided contact herself; but she had a lot to sort out with regard to Travis. Surrendering control for Matt was one thing; surrendering it to a man—a man who’d already demonstrated his ability to make her lose control of her body—was something else entirely. It frightened her.

  Counseling was helping her to understand and deal with her fears. But then there was the guilt. The guilt she felt every time she looked at her son and remembered how happy they’d all been together—she, Matt and Travis. Every time she looked into her son’s eyes and saw not just the son, but the father. Every time Matt mentioned that father and she couldn’t reply—because she’d sent him away. Every time—like now. Think fast, Terhune!

  “Oh…well, honey, uh, didn’t you just see that Disney movie with him last week?”

  “Yeah, it was great!” Matt’s grin faded as he turned to her. “But that was just me ‘n’ Travis, Mom. How come we don’t do stuff with you? Don’t you like Travis anymore?”

  Like him? I ache for him, but I’m afraid! Oh, God, I’m so confused! He said he cared about me, that he wanted to marry me, even, but…how can I believe him or trust him when he—Don’t cry, Terhune. Don’t you dare cry!

  Stooping to pick up some tissue paper that had fallen from the tailor’s box, she avoided Matt’s eyes and summoned a reply. “Well, honey, I’ve been awfully busy lately, what with the wedding and…and my work at the hospital.”

  It sounded lame even to her. The look she glimpsed on Matt’s face said he didn’t buy it, either.

  “Tell you what,” she said briskly. “Let’s get you out of these things. We don’t want them to get wrinkled, and—”

  “Mom…”

  She looked at him, and the unfamiliar sadness in his eyes was an arrow through her heart. “What is it, darling?” she asked.