Read Family Matters (DiCarlo Brides book 4) (The DiCarlo Brides) Online
Authors: Heather Tullis
Tags: #orphans, #birth mother, #Romance, #Abuse, #Adoption, #clean romance, #suspense, #The DiCarlo Brides
Rosemary sighed but didn’t seem irritated when she glanced at the girl beside her. “You really have to become a better liar if you want to convince anyone over the age of two.”
“Great.” Harrison took that as permission to meddle. He moved to the corner where they put together the salads. “Two oriental chicken salads. And a side of those beer-battered fries for me. I love those things. We’ll take them to another room so she can get away for a few minutes to eat.” He really didn’t care about the distractions of the kitchen—she managed to ignore those reasonably well from her office most of the time, but he wanted to get her talking about more private things, and she wouldn’t do that in her office.
“You’re so bossy,” Rosemary said mildly.
“I have to be when I’m dealing with you,” he answered in the same tone. “Come on, we’ll have a few minutes of quiet, you’ll be able to regroup, and you’ll be calmer when you come back in.”
One of the fry cooks shot him a grateful look that indicated Harrison was right that she’d been testy that morning. Considering the call from her mom, he wasn’t surprised.
“If you’re going to keep coming in here to bother me, I’m going to make you get a food handler’s permit so I can put you to work.” Rosemary grabbed a garlic clove and started mincing it.
“That could be interesting. But I don’t think I need a permit to wash dishes, and I have a funny feeling that’s where I’d end up.”
She smiled. “You might be right. In that case, we have a sink full.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m on my break right now. I can’t do dishes.”
“If you’re in the kitchen,” one of the guys said, “you’re not really on your break, so you better get out of the way or get to work.”
Harrison chuckled. “Why do I get the feeling she’s said that a few times.”
“You better believe it.” Rosemary zoomed through several more cloves of garlic in way less time than Harrison would have believed humanly possible—especially since she still bore a sling for her sprained shoulder. He watched her work, appreciating the graceful way she moved through the task, answering questions and giving orders to the people around her without skipping a beat.
“Order up.”
Harrison looked over to see the salads and a side of fries on a counter—they must have been anxious to get rid of Rosemary if they rushed his order ahead of everyone else’s. “Perfect. Put down the knife, Rosemary. Time to eat.”
“There’s just something about a pushy man that gets to me,” she said with an edge of sarcasm and gave a few directions to her staff. She grabbed her plate from the counter, allowing Harrison to follow her out.
He appreciated that she grumbled but didn’t balk and he directed her down the hall to an empty room.
“Why are we eating in here?” Rosemary asked when Harrison picked a table.
“Because you need to get away from the minions for a few minutes. And I plan to pry about your mother, and you won’t do that if everyone’s hovering around you in the restaurant.”
She lifted her fork and sighed. “They put the dressing on the salad greens instead of on the side.”
“Yup, that’s how the salad’s made. Eat up.” He forked up some chicken for himself and savored the flavor. He waited until she took a couple of bites before jumping in. “What happened between you and your mom? Did you always hate her, or is it something a little more recent?”
“Do we have to go over this? Really, it’s so last year.”
“Quit avoiding the question—you need to tell someone and we have to assess whether she’s a real threat.”
She stabbed at some lettuce with her fork, but slowly, reluctantly began to talk. “I didn’t always hate her. I have vague memories of desperately wanting her to love me like I loved her.” She paused for a moment. “That was a long time ago, though. I stopped trying to make her happy a long time ago. How terrible is it to say that? How much worse that I barely feel bad about it?” She rubbed the back of her neck, then returned to eating.
“Did she abuse you?”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “I really can’t talk about her now. Please just let it go. It’s over.”
His heart ached for her, but he was starting to understand her. “If it were over, you wouldn’t be so wound up about it.” He watched her carefully, trying to nudge her without making her go over the edge. If she still refused, he’d change the subject, or at least shift it laterally a little.
She said nothing for a moment, then seemed to give in. “She’s just self-absorbed, okay? Everything is about her, and how it affects her. It was never about me, unless I was what made her life worse than it would be otherwise, which was most of the time. You want to know why I got into so much trouble in school? Because I wanted my parents to pay, or to pay attention, I’m not sure which anymore. Both of them. Dad wouldn’t acknowledge that I was his in public, and Wanda just didn’t care about anyone but herself. She drives me crazy and she never gives up. But I’m not playing this time.” Her face was tight and pain lingered in her eyes.
Harrison watched her. The urge to fix what was wrong was almost overwhelming, but he knew he couldn’t, that it wasn’t possible. He had strong feelings for her, ones that were growing stronger all the time, and he wanted to be her sounding board. That was what she needed most. The question was how to get her to keep sounding. “What will you do when she keeps contacting you?” He already knew the question wasn’t
if
but
when.
Rosemary’s jaw clenched and she stabbed at the salad as if it were her worst enemy. “I’ll get a restraining order. And maybe I’ll take Cleo to Italy after September first. She’d like it there. It’s perfect, and we could use assumed names so she can’t find us and we’ll spend the rest of our lives relaxing on the beach of the Mediterranean and drinking those fruity drinks with the umbrellas.” She shoveled the salad into her mouth while she spoke, moving automatically when she was so upset.
His heart sank a little as he realized she didn’t see him there beside her on that beach, but he wasn’t going to be that easy to dismiss him. “Sounds like a plan. You think your beach might have room for one more?”
Her lips twitched a little. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be happy to have Jonquil visit anytime.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes.
“That was just mean.” Harrison grabbed a fry from the plate and held it out to her. She eyed it warily. “Go on,” he said. “It won’t bite you. It’s only one fry.”
She bit her lip, then took it, closing her eyes as an expression of bliss covered her face while she ate it. “I haven’t had fried food for so long. I love these things.”
“Have another.” He nudged the plate closer to her.
“No. One’s my limit. Really, I can’t eat them or I’ll blow up like a blimp.”
He slid his eyes over what he could see of her too-thin figure. “Give me a break, you will not. You’re gorgeous, and even more so when you don’t look half-starved.” But he didn’t push her any further. She’d eaten most of her salad, including all of the chicken. And she’d talked, though he hadn’t been sure he would be able to get her to spill. “You need the energy to deal with what’s going on.”
She leaned back in her seat and looked at him, searching his face. “Why do I do that?”
“Say mean things about yourself and have an unrealistic body image? I have no idea.” But he really wanted to understand.
“No,” her voice was void of amusement. “Why do I talk to you about stuff like that? Why can’t I seem to help myself? Lately it’s like you set some food under my nose and I start talking.”
The thought pleased him. “I should feed you more often. In fact, you and Cleo should come over for dinner at my place. Say, tomorrow night.” He’d spent time with them almost every night since their date, but it wasn’t enough. And he wanted to see her in his space, see how she acted when it wasn’t her territory. See how he felt about it.
Rosemary crossed her arms over her chest, but the gesture was oddly self-protective rather than defiant. “Why don’t you give me honest answers?”
He shrugged. “Why do you ask stupid questions I can’t answer? Or questions I can answer, but which you don’t actually want the answer to?”
“If I didn’t want the answer, I wouldn’t ask,” she insisted.
He wasn’t sure if that was true, but decided to take the risk. “Okay, then. You talk to me because it’s me. I’m the one for you and somewhere deep inside, you know it. You’re safe with me because I won’t judge you for being angry with your mom and dad or any of the crazy things you’ve done. You know I’ll love you no matter what, so I’m safe and you can get it all off of your chest.” There, he’d said it, and it didn’t make his insides twist up the way he’d expected. It was actually a relief to say it aloud, even if it meant risking her denials.
She started to protest and he pressed a finger to her lips. “I told you that you didn’t want the answers. If you don’t like it, don’t ask.” He hesitated for half a second, then pushed just one inch further. “I love you, Rosemary. I’m in love with you and nothing you do or say is going to change that. Freak out if you want, but it won’t scare me away.” He leaned back and finished off his fries while she sputtered—it was nice to see her off balance for once.
“You’re just... nuts... crazy. No way you could love me this soon. Forget it.” She stood from the table and stalked off.
He decided challenging her when she was trying to process his words would be asking for trouble, but he couldn’t just let her walk away without saying anything. “Thanks for lunch. What do you think about dinner tomorrow? Want me to pick you up, say around six?”
She turned to him in disbelief when she reached the door. “You have a lot of nerve.”
“You have to eat.” Making sure Rosemary didn’t starve herself would be a nice bonus. “Come on over. It’ll be fun.”
Her lips pressed together and he wished for a kiss goodbye, but figured that wasn’t going to happen now. She nodded. “Six. Don’t be late.”
He grinned when the door slowly shushed closed behind her.
Rosemary told herself that it was only fair for her to play host to Cleo and Hannah sometimes. Cleo had been to Etta’s to play with Hannah four or five times already, so though she had a pile of work to do, Rosemary agreed when Cleo asked for her friend to hang out, and she didn’t argue when Hannah pulled out a game she’d brought along with her.
“
Beat the Parents
, huh? What’s that all about?” Rosemary asked.
“We play against you,” Cleo said. “Since you’re the only parent, you can call one of the sisters if you can’t answer the question, I guess. But if we beat you at the game we get to make cookies.”
“Oh yeah?” Rosemary was fine with making cookies regardless of who won, but decided to play along. “What do I get if I win?”
Cleo’s face scrunched up a little and she whispered to Hannah, who nodded. “If you win, we’ll actually do the dishes after we bake the cookies.”
Rosemary laughed. “It’s a deal. Loser does the dishes. Set it up and I’ll put my stuff away.” She hibernated her computer and stashed it and the pages back in the carrying case—not entirely easy when one arm was still in a sling, due to the sprained shoulder—then took them to her room. When she returned, the girls had everything set out and ready to go. “Tell me how this works.”
The girls explained the rules to her, though Rosemary had the funny feeling they were tweaking them to favor themselves. They started the first round and the girls answered the question of who was the first man to walk on the moon—she was impressed.
Then Rosemary’s came up.
“Where was Daniel Radcliffe when they found him to play Harry Potter?” Hannah read.
Who? Apparently it must be the kid in the movie—or one of the kids in the movie, but how was she supposed to know that? “Um, how many times can I call one of the sisters for answers?” Rosemary asked.
The girls whispered again, though neither was very good at using quiet voices so she could hear every word. “Five,” Cleo announced a moment later.
If all of the questions were like that, Rosemary had the sneaking suspicion she was doomed. She considered which of her sisters was most likely to know the answer and dialed Jonquil’s cell phone. “Hey, I’m playing a game with Cleo and Hannah. My question is what, what’s his name again?” she asked.
“Daniel Radcliffe.” Hannah answered and the girls giggled together.
“Right, Daniel Radcliffe. What was he doing when they found him to play in
Harry Potter
.”
Jonquil laughed. “Not to play
in
Harry Potter
, you dork. He’s the lead. You really need to spend a little less time in the kitchen and more at the movies.”
“Do you know the answer or not?” Rosemary asked, not amused by her sister’s teasing.
“Nope. Let’s see, how about if you guess that he was in grocery store, or playing video games. I could swear I heard of some child actor being discovered at an arcade, but I don’t know who it was.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome, and hey, good luck with that. I hope you didn’t bet them anything valuable. It sounds like those girls are going to take you to the cleaners.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that feeling already.” Rosemary shot the girls a look of censure, which only made them giggle again.