Turn My World Upside Down: Jo's Story (24 page)

“Jo,” he said softly. “You’ve been ashamed for years, when the shame was always
his
. You’ve done nothing wrong and yet you hide while he goes on about his life.”

“But—”

“You left school because of him. Gave up on your dreams—”

“Yes,” she argued hotly in her own defense, “but I went back! The last year and a half, I’ve been going to night school. I picked up my credits. I’m going to graduate, Papa. In three weeks.”

“This is
good
and I am so proud of you.” His eyes sparkled madly and Jo understood completely why the kids of Chandler were so convinced her father was really Santa Claus.

Then the twinkle in those pale blue eyes faded. “Graduating is wonderful. But you have a
full
life to live. You cannot allow one evil man to color how you look at your whole world, Josefina.” He stared directly into her eyes and the kindness she saw there softened his next words. “There is only
shame
if you continue to hide the truth.”

Mike sneaked through the living room and into the kitchen—feeling pretty much like a hippo trying to tiptoe through a river. But now that she’d been up on her feet, she so didn’t want to go back to lying on her ass.

The cool blue tiles felt cold against the bottoms of her feet and the morning sunlight glanced off the surface of the lake and sliced into the kitchen like a spotlight sent directly from God. Gorgeous. She only wished she could be outside to enjoy the day. Maybe ripping out someone’s sink.

“No offense, guys,” she whispered, stroking her hand across her belly, “but if you don’t get out of there soon, mommy’s gonna go to a nuthouse and then where will you be?”

“Will you at least lie down in the nuthouse?”

A deep voice, right behind her.

Mike shrieked and turned around. “You know, if you’re trying to
scare
me into labor, you’re doing a great job of it.”

Lucas shook his head. “You’re pitiful, you know it?”

Guilt rose up and took a nip at her, but she gamely bit back. “Geez, Lucas, give me a break.” She lifted her left hand and ticked off her fingers, one by one. “Jack’s in the hospital, Nana’s making everybody nuts, something’s bugging Jo—she hasn’t growled at anybody in at least a week, Sam’s back to work without me, and I’ve been pregnant for freaking
ever
.” She leaned in at him. “I’m a woman on the edge, Rocket Man.”

He tipped her chin up with his fingertips. “Jack’s going home today, Nana’s been bugging you for years, Jo will growl again as soon as she has the time, you’ll
be back at work making some poor homeowner crazy in no time, and you’re
supposed
to be lying down.”

Here came the guilt again. Mike wondered idly if she’d have the same capacity for guilt if she’d been raised Protestant. Then she figured that being Italian would have been enough.

“Ah, come on, remember that edge I was telling you about? I just wanted to sit up to eat some ice cream.” She blinked her eyelashes furiously and tried a smile.

“Is that supposed to convince me?”

Mike blew out a breath and gave it up. “Fine. Sexy I’m not.” Then she perked up. “Can you be bribed?”

“Depends on the bribe.”

“Ah,” she said, getting into the spirit of the thing now, since at least he hadn’t pushed her into a chair yet. “So you
can
be had, you’re just not
cheap
.”

“Exactly.”

“I can respect that.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, moving past her to the freezer. “Chocolate chip?”

Victory!
“Is there any other kind?”

“Not according to my lovely wife,” he said and grabbed the carton. Then tugging on a brass parrot pull, he opened a nearby cupboard, took down two bowls, and carried them to the kitchen table. “Sit.”

“You joining me?”

He went back for spoons. “Somebody has to keep an eye on you.”

“Great,” she said, enjoying the sensation of warm sunlight spraying across her back. “Don’t forget the whipped cream.”

He nodded, opened the fridge, grabbed a red and white can, and said, “Just got an e-mail from Bree.”

Mike took the spoon and bowl he handed her. Bree Gallagher, Lucas’s late brother’s widow, was back in Ireland, living with her family and raising her son. Good thing Mike liked her or she’d be pretty pissy about Bree’s already having gone through the whole birth thing.

“How’s she doing?”

Lucas scooped ice cream into her bowl and grinned. “She says little Justin is smiling and rolling over now. Wants us to visit after the babies come.”

Mike frowned at the ice cream that had seemed so important a minute or two ago. “The babies are
never
coming, Rocket Man. They’re gonna be in there forever. Bree’s already skinny again, I bet, and here I sit looking like the Plumber Who Ate California.”

“Just southern California.”

“Gee, that makes me feel better.”

Lucas dropped to one knee in front of her. Lifting the hem of her shirt, he bent his head and kissed her belly, sending a shiver of something warm and delicious moving through her.

Then he looked up at her and smiled. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. And you humble me every day.”

Tears blurred her vision and love filled her heart. Sighing, Mike reached for him and cupped his face between her palms. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Rocket Man.”

“I know,” he said, grinning now.

“But I still want my ice cream.”

“I know that, too.”

Cash walked through the pile of rubble that had once been a perfect little guest cottage.

He spotted the lacy white curtains, now soggy wet and filthy, draped over a charred timber. Most of the fireplace and chimney were still standing, spearing up from the destruction like a monument to better days. His boots crunched and squished as he kicked crap out of his way and looked for something—
anything
—that could be salvaged.

But the sad truth was, there just wasn’t a damn thing that had come through that fire. And despite it all, he’d been lucky. The fire department had managed to contain the blaze, so that the woods were pretty much unaffected and neither his house nor Grace’s had been in danger. Strange how bad “lucky” felt.

He lifted his head and squinted into the late afternoon sunlight spearing through the copse of trees in golden shafts. A soft wind kicked up and rustled the leaves as it carried off the stench of charred wood and soggy fabric.

“Well,” a quiet voice said from inside the tree line, “this
is
a mess, isn’t it?”

Grace Van Horn, Cash’s aunt, stepped out of the shadows and gingerly picked her way through the ruin.

He forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Heard you were home. Good trip?”

“Oh,” Grace said, skimming the tips of her fingers through her impeccably styled snow-white hair. “It was wonderful. Henry and I had a lovely time.” She frowned as she came up beside him. “In fact, he just left. Told me he’d been to see you.”

“Yeah.” Cash shook his head and kept his gaze focused
on the glistening, blackened heap in front of him. “He wanted to pay me for the damage.”

Cash still couldn’t believe it. He’d expected that Jack’s father would have wanted to wring his neck for endangering his son. Instead, he’d been the one apologizing and trying to make good on what Jack had done. None of the Marconis blamed him—but they didn’t have to. Cash knew damn well why this had happened. Because he’d allowed Jack into his life. Because he’d gotten sloppy. Careless.

He’d forgotten that the most important rule was to
not care
. That the only way to keep yourself safe was to let no one in.

“That’s very like him,” Grace said, nodding in silent approval. “But I’m guessing that you didn’t allow that?”

“Of course not,” Cash said, “I’ve got insurance. I don’t need him to pay for something that almost got his son killed.”

“Most people in your position would be angry at Jack. Thinking about suing his parents.”

“Yeah, well I’m not most people, am I?” he asked, swinging his gaze to the aunt he’d loved since his childhood. It was only through Grace Van Horn that Cash had
ever
known anything about a normal life. Had experienced even slightly the kind of family ties he’d always hungered for. “It was
my
fault, Grace,” he muttered thickly, wondering why nobody understood that but
him
.

“I’m sure you see it that way, but—”

He cut her off. “It’s the truth. I left that propane torch out.
I
taught Jack how to use it.
I
let him come over here all the damn time. I spent time with him. Got too close to him. Never should have,” he muttered, his
voice dropping as his mind once again painted pictures of what might have been.

“Cash . . .”

“No.” One word. Harsh. Painful. “The kid could have been killed.”

“He wasn’t.” Her voice came soft, patient.

“Just lucky,” he said, and winced when somewhere beneath the rubble something broke with a groan.

“Accidents happen, Cash.” She laid one hand gently on his forearm.

That touch calmed him, but did nothing to change the resolution pounding through his head. All night, all day, he’d been seeing Jack lying on the deck, bleeding, burned, in pain. He saw again the fire sweeping closer to him, inch by hungry inch.

The sting of dozens of tiny burns on his own back reminded him just how close to disaster they’d all come. And he wouldn’t let it happen again.

“Cash,” Grace said, her voice firming, as she willed him to look at her. “I know you feel bad about Jack, but when you care about someone, you take the risk of pain.”

“Funny you should say that,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve just been telling myself the same damn thing.”

“Take a hike, Lucas,” Jo said as she marched into Mike’s house.

“Excuse me?” Her brother-in-law was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. He looked completely comfortable and completely baffled at the sudden invasion of Marconis.

“Forgive her,” Sam said from right behind Jo. “She’s got a bug up her butt about something and won’t even tell me why she dragged me out of the house and brought me over here.”

“I’m
going
to tell you,” Jo snapped, shooting a glance into the empty living room. “As soon as we’re alone, the three of us.” She gave Lucas another long, meaningful look. “Where’s Mike?”

“In the kitchen,” he said. “More ice cream.”

“Perfect,” Jo declared, and stomped across the entryway to the closet. Yanking it open, she reached inside for Lucas’s jacket. Then scooping his car keys off the hall table, she tossed them at him.

This could have waited until the morning, but Jo didn’t want to wait another damn minute. She’d told Papa the truth and that had been the hardest part. Now, she needed to tell her sisters. She needed to finally, and at last, stop hiding.

But she wasn’t about to do it in front of Lucas.

“Can’t I just go upstairs?” he asked, a little wistfully.

“No, you can’t. Go away,” Jo insisted, shoving his jacket into his hands.

Sam patted him absently. “Go to my house. Jeff’s watching
The Terminator
.”

“The first one?”

“Does it matter?” Jo asked.

“Yes, the first one,” Sam answered, ignoring her and focusing on Lucas. “Jeff says the third one doesn’t count, and in the second one, Linda Hamilton is just way too intimidating.”

“Yeah,” Jo snapped, “and I just hate the way she did her hair in that one. Can he go now?”

“Good God, Jo, can you
please
take a pill of some kind?”

“I want
five
minutes of my sisters’ time,” Jo argued, throwing both hands high. “Is that
really
so much to ask?”

“You don’t ask. You demand,” Sam pointed out.

“If you guys are gonna argue,” Mike shouted from a distance, “at least do it back here where I can join in!”

“Okay, ladies,” Lucas said, juggling his keys as he put on his jacket. “I’m gone.” Then he shot a look over his shoulder. “You two promise to keep Mike off her feet?”

“Hell, I’ll tie her to a chair if you’ll just go away!”

Lucas laughed at her and Jo had a minute to realize the man was getting way too used to the Marconi way of life. They didn’t scare him at all anymore.