What did Kevin and Megan have to do with this? What was his father getting at here? Whatever it was, Linc felt bound to defend his dead brother-in-law. “Dad. Do you have any idea how insulting you’re being to the memory of your own daughter—let alone the man himself? Kevin was a great guy.”
“Of course, he was,” Warren said wearily. “And he loved his wife and children. He also loved that ridiculous Cracker Jack box of an airplane and killed my daughter in the goddamn thing.”
Linc tried not to imagine wrapping his fingers around his father’s neck and squeezing. Hard. “Will you get to the point? Please.”
“Gladly. Imogen was an imminently suitable wife for you. But it wouldn’t have lasted.”
“Isn’t that pretty much what I already said?”
“It is. I’m agreeing with you. But frankly, in my humble opinion, who says a marriage is supposed to last, anyway?”
“Dad. I do.”
His father sipped his brandy. “Just like your sister, so sentimental. And back to my main point. Now that you have custody of my grandson and granddaughter, Imogen becomes an impossible choice as a wife for you. She’s nothing short of a disaster in the making.”
“How many times do we have to agree that we agree?”
His father just kept talking. “It’s a matter of degrees. Were Megan and wannabe flyboy Kevin still alive, Imogen would have been perfectly acceptable for you. You would have spent fifteen or twenty years with her, during which you would never actually have been happy. But she would have given you children, which is what really matters. However, everything’s changed now.”
“And I’m assuming you’re going to explain how?”
“Simple. Sarah Whitman’s precious only daughter is much too self-absorbed to appreciate your sister’s children.”
Linc’s head was spinning. “Wait. Just tell me. Why are you here if you think I’ve made the right decision in refusing to get back with her?”
“To be painfully honest, I had planned to bite the bullet and take your mother’s side.”
After a bracing sip from his own snifter, Linc prompted, “Because...?”
“I would like to make peace with Alicia.”
“Why? You never see her or talk to her. She came back to the States for the funeral last January. I believe that’s the only time she’s ever been in Oregon since you divorced her.”
“True, but I’m not getting any younger. I would like to feel that there’s no animosity between me and my exes—and taking Alicia’s part in this, speaking to you for her, seemed a way to get on her good side. I thought I would try to talk you into reaching out to Imogen and somehow making it work. But I didn’t like having to do that.”
“Because, as you’ve already said, Imogen wouldn’t be good for Maya and Jayden?”
“Exactly. I’m not an especially affectionate man, as you know. Children make me nervous with their grabby little fingers and needy little hearts. Shelby says I’m going to need to work on that.” Warren had a strange, bemused expression on his face. Before Linc could decide to ask him what that was about, he went on, “Shelby’s right, of course. She almost always is. And I want my daughter’s children to grow up safe, well cared for and happy, if possible. Jayden and Maya were never going to be happy with Imogen at your side. I felt guilty about that.”
“But you were going to plead Mother’s case for her, anyway?”
“Yes. But then I met the Bravo girl.”
“Wait. Harper?”
“Yes, Harper.”
“Meeting Harper changed your mind about trying to convince me to get back with Imogen?”
“That’s right—though, to be honest, I’d already been having second thoughts about taking your mother’s side on this, mostly because of Shelby. When I explained the situation to her and said I thought I’d found a way to make a stab at getting straight with your mother, my wife was not impressed with my plan. In fact, she was livid. She said that you had a right to make your own decisions about whom to love and marry and your mother and I needed to butt the hell out. Shelby is a bit of a sentimentalist, too, if you must know.”
Warren and Shelby had met in Paris—at the world-famous bookstore, Shakespeare and Company. A whirlwind romance ensued. They’d married in Vegas eighteen months ago. Linc had only met his father’s much-younger third wife briefly, last January, at the funeral. He remembered her as softly pretty, with lustrous brown skin, a thick cloud of natural curls and a warm smile. “Well. Good for Shelby, then.”
“Yes, she is special and I miss her.” Was that a dreamy expression on his father’s face? Until this moment, Linc had never seen Warren Stryker looking dreamy about anyone. He found the sight vaguely disorienting. “Shelby refused to come to Portland with me because she didn’t like my meddling in your situation vis-à-vis Imogen. Frankly, I can’t wait to get back to her.”
Linc got up and poured them each another brandy. When he took his seat again, he confessed, “I’m still confused, Dad.”
“I can’t say that I blame you.”
“If meeting Harper changed your mind somehow, why even come back to talk to me now?”
His father stared into his snifter some more. “Did Harper tell you that I met her mother at Stanford?”
This conversation was giving Linc whiplash. “No. I’d barely gotten in the door when you rang at the gate. Harper did mention that you dropped by this morning.”
Warren settled back against the cushions. “I have a confession to make.”
“Okay...?” he replied with a slow, wary nod.
“I was completely taken with Marie Valentine all those years ago, as in struck by lightning, love at first sight. That kind of taken. Unfortunately, Marie wouldn’t give me the time of day. She called me a supercilious prig.” He shook his head. “I was crushed—and then furious a few years later when I learned she’d married some guy named Bravo from Texas. The Valentines are an old and respected Oregon family. I felt Marie could have done so much better.”
Linc didn’t know what to say. His father had once believed himself in love with Harper’s mother? No way had he seen that coming. And he had no idea why Warren would tell him this now.
His dad seemed to shake himself. “In any case, Harper looks so much like her mother. And it’s obvious she has that same spirit, as beautiful inside as out. The children clearly adore her. She stood in the pool downstairs with Maya in her arms and Jayden hovering close and I thought, someone like her, that’s who Lincoln ought to marry. Someone like Harper Bravo is going to love my daughter’s children as much as her own. That was when I decided that not only would I not speak for your mother on the Imogen situation, I would come back this evening to tell you outright that I disagree with your mother. I hope that when you do marry, you choose someone who makes you happy, someone who will love not only your own children, but Maya and Jayden, as well.”
Chapter Eight
“Did everything work out all right with your dad?” Harper asked two hours later.
By then, the kids were in bed and Linc was feeling pretty damn good.
And why wouldn’t he feel good? He’d already made love to his favorite nanny twice—once hard and fast and a second time with slow and satisfying attention to detail.
He braced an elbow on his pillow and stared down at her, naked in his bed with that gorgeous wheat-colored hair like a wild halo around her arresting face. “You look so good in my bed.”
She chuckled, a sweet, happy sound. “Why, thank you.”
He traced a finger slowly from the center of her smooth forehead, down between her eyes, along the bridge of her nose, over those lush pink lips to her pointy, pretty chin. “My dad said you’re as beautiful inside as out.”
“Wow. I’m flattered.”
“He likes you—and that’s saying something. As a rule he reserves judgment on anyone until he’s know
n them for decades, at least.”
“What about his wife?”
“Shelby, you mean?”
“Yeah, his current wife. He can’t have known her that long.”
“You’re right. He hasn’t. And he appears to be completely in love with Shelby. Like you, Shelby’s an exception to his general disdain for anyone he didn’t go to school with. The jury’s still out on whether he even likes me.”
She shoved playfully at his bare chest. “That can’t be true.” Sliding her slim hand upward, she eased her fingers around his nape and rubbed gently.
He tipped his head back a little, encouraging her touch. It felt right, when she touched him. Already, he had trouble imagining his world without her to come home to.
She gazed up at him, those big eyes so direct, free of guile. “Warren told me that he’d met my mother in college.”
“He mentioned that to me, too.”
“Small world, huh?”
“Yes, it is.” He bent for a kiss. Her lips parted in welcome. He took his time kissing her. When he lifted his head, she asked, “So, he just dropped by to say hi, then?”
Linc tried to decide how much to tell her. She’d made it much too clear that this thing between them was just for the holidays, that they were both supposed to move on when he and the kids returned to Portland. Would hearing that his dad thought he ought to marry someone like her have her leaping out of bed and reaching for her clothes?
Probably better not to mention it. And as for the whole mess with Imogen, well, that was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now.
He told the truth, just not all of it. “My dad was in town and knew I would be here for meetings. So yeah, he came by to check in with me.”
“You didn’t get much time together. Want to invite him for dinner tomorrow?”
God, no. “That’s a nice thought. But he’s heading back to Colorado tomorrow.”
“So then he lives in Colorado now?”
“In Vail, yes. Shelby, his wife, grew up there. She owns and runs a bookstore and her parents are there.”
Harper tugged on his earlobe. “I guess I won’t suggest that you invite your dad and Shelby to Valentine Bay.”
“They won’t come.”
“You won’t know if you don’t ask them.”
“Let it go.”
“Gotcha.” She whispered, “Come down here.”
He lowered his head till they were nose to nose. “What?”
“I think you have issues with your dad.”
Smiling, he kissed her again. “Figured that out, did you?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“He’s not so bad, really. And I meant what I said about him and Shelby. He’s different since he met her—gentler. Kinder. The man is in love with his wife.”
“You’re saying he wasn’t in love with your mom?”
“If he was, he never showed it much—same thing with his second wife, for that matter. I always thought he had no heart. It’s possible I was wrong.”
“So he’s making progress, as a husband and a human being.”
“That’s one way to look at it, I guess. They do say that the third time’s the charm.” He rubbed his nose against hers and then nuzzled his way over her cheek to that perfect place behind her ear. From there, he carefully placed a line of kisses down the side of her silky neck.
She let out a soft, willing sigh.
And for the rest of the evening, Linc forgot all the troubling issues with his ex-fiancée. He gave no thought to his meddling mother or his suddenly rather likable father, who had once been in love—or at least deeply infatuated—with Harper’s mother.
* * *
The next day, his meetings were shorter. He was able to get back to the house at a little after five. He and Harper took the kids out for pizza and then for a visit with Santa at Washington Square Mall.
Jayden was in his element. He perched happily on Santa’s lap and talked the poor guy’s ear off, posing for the photographer with a giant smile.
Maya was another story. She was fine at first, staring at Linc from Santa’s knee, a little unsure of the concept, but willing to roll with it. The photographer snapped one shot of her, looking apprehensive.
And then she turned her head to glance up at the big guy in the red suit with the white beard.
“No!” she screeched and burst into frightened tears.
Linc scooped her back up again. She grabbed him around the neck, buried her face against his throat and wailed like it was the end of the world. He mouthed an apology at Santa and carried her back to where Harper waited.
“Hawp!” Maya cried, and reached for her, but without letting go of Linc. They ended up with both of them holding her, one of her little arms clutching each of them around the neck, the three of them all smashed together as she sobbed like the world was coming to an end, with Jayden standing close, staring up at them through worried eyes.
Slowly, Maya settled. Harper whipped out a tissue and wiped her tears away.
“I scawy,” Maya whimpered, when the sobbing finally stopped.
Linc frowned at Harper, who translated, “Scary, I think—right, honey? You were scared?”
Maya sniffled and nodded.
“It’s okay, Maya.” Jayden tugged on her little pink shoe. “When you’re scared of Santa, you can always try again next year.”
Maya gave her brother a firm nod. “’Kay,” she agreed.
Harper suggested, “I think right now what we all really need is ice cream.”
Nobody disagreed with that. They went to Sub Zero, which made nitrogen-frozen ice cream to order. By the time they left the mall, Maya’s fear of Santa had been forgotten, banished by a frozen concoction that included cookie dough, cake batter, chocolate syrup and sprinkles.
“Can we see the lights?” asked Jayden. “Please?”
It was a half-hour drive to Peacock Lane. They took the Marquam Bridge across the river to the Laurelhurst neighborhood in Southeast Portland.
Only a few of the pre-Depression-era houses on the four blocks that made up Peacock Lane had all their Christmas lights up this early in the season, but there were enough lavish displays to satisfy the kids. Linc drove slowly as the kids stared out the windows, happy and wide-eyed at the bright lights, the giant blow-up Santas, the prancing reindeer and waving snowmen.
The ride back to the house was a quiet one. Jayden and Maya dozed in the back seat. Linc played Christmas music on the Bluetooth, but down low. He and Harper didn’t talk much, just shared a glance and a smile now and then.
He felt connected around her. Like everything made sense, all the random pieces of his life fitting together to make something good, something that felt so right.
So what if they’d only met a couple of weeks ago? Already he knew he needed to convince her to try Portland instead of Seattle when she made her move next year. Good thing he had the whole month to show her that she should be with him and he needed to be with her, and it shouldn’t be that much harder for her to find satisfying work in his town.
* * *
That Sunday, he and the kids went with Harper up to Daniel Bravo’s house for the regular Bravo family Sunday dinner. Jayden and Maya had a great time, trooping up and down the stairs after the older children, helping to set the tables when it was time to eat.
Linc enjoyed hanging out with Harper’s family. They were a boisterous, fun crew. Being around them had him reflecting on how much he missed the sister he’d failed to spend enough time with while he’d still had the chance.
The Bravos also got him thinking about his dad, had him considering the possibility that maybe Warren Stryker wasn’t such a poor excuse for a father, after all. He kept mentally revisiting Harper’s suggestion that he invite his dad and Shelby to Valentine Bay sometime this month.
Tuesday at lun
chtime, during a video chat with Alan and Jean, he mentioned that he’d seen his dad in Portland the week before.
Jean said, “I hope you got to spend some quality time with Warren. You don’t see your dad enough.”
He couldn’t remember ever spending much time with his father—quality, or otherwise. “Well, he just stopped in for a drink Thursday evening, so we only had a little while together.”
Alan said, “Megan used to reminisce on how your dad and your mother took you to Valentine Bay every Christmas, back when you and Megan were little.”
“They did, yes.”
“Why not invite him to the cottage?” Jean suggested. “You’re in Valentine Bay for several weeks. He might find a time he can manage to fly out there.”
It was so close to Harper’s suggestion, he found himself replying, “I’ll do that.” And then instantly reconsidering. “Possibly...”
Jean smiled benignly. “Good, then. Think it over.”
At which point, Maya held up Pebble and commanded, “Gamma, kiss-kiss.” Jean blew a couple of big kisses, after which Jayden asked to see the ocean.
The giant ship was somewhere off the coast of Guatemala at that point. Alan scooped up their laptop and carried it to a window of their penthouse stateroom so that Jayden could get a look at the view.
A few minutes later, as they were wrapping up the visit, Harper appeared.
Maya and Jayden greeted her with shouts of “Hawp!” and, “Harper! I drew more Christmas pictures!”
“Hi, Maya,” Harper replied and then beamed at Jayden. “I can’t wait to see those.”
On the laptop screen, Alan and Jean shared a look. Jean asked, “Is that the nanny you hired?”
“It’s Harper,” Jayden corrected his grandmother.
Linc kind of loved that. Jayden saw Harper as a person, not a function. He signaled her over to sit with them on the sofa and made introductions as Maya crawled into Harper’s lap and Jayden sprinted for the kitchen to grab the new pictures he’d stuck on the fridge.
Jean said, “It’s such a pleasure to meet you at last.”
A Temporary Christmas Arrangement Page 13