A Little Bit of Déjà Vu (14 page)

“I’m not confusing anything. I could have sex with any girl at school. Hell, I could have two at a time if I wanted. But I love Emma.”

“Granted, a few teenage marriages work out, but even if you really care for her, you have a better chance of being elected President.”

Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t care what the odds say. I’m not leaving for school without her.”

Jake yanked opened the door on his SUV. “You’re a hard-headed idealist, Alex. Sadly enough, you’re just like me.”

“Good. It’s a helluva lot better than taking after the other half of my gene pool.”

“Son,”—Jake huffed—“you’re not being fair to your mother. You don’t know all the circumstances.”

“She deserted me. What more is there to know?”

It was time to sit down with Alex and tell him about the dreams. Jake didn’t have to use any names or tell him the entire truth. “How do you expect to have a good relationship with Emma—or any woman—when you hate the most important one in your life?”

“My mother has nothing to do with Emma.”

“Your mother has everything to do with her. Why do you think you’ve gotten a girl pregnant at eighteen? You’re just aching for a woman’s love. And Emma’s probably replacing her dad with you. You think that’s a healthy relationship?”

Alex raised his hands. “Don’t psychoanalyze me. You know I hate that.”

“You hate it, because you know I’m right.” Jake jerked his head toward Maggie’s condo. “We’re invited to Mrs. Bradford’s for dinner tonight. How will you face her now that she knows you’ve been playing her for a fool?”

His son’s face turned crimson. “She knows I was here?”

“Did you think I just figured out you’ve been sleeping here on my own? Emma’s window is right next to her mother’s. Believe me, Mrs. Bradford was mighty embarrassed to find out her prospective son-in-law is such a stallion.”

The horror on Alex’s face said Jake had accomplished what he’d come there to do.

“That’s right, boy genius. You should’ve remembered to close the damn window.”

Chapter 8

All afternoon, Margie agonized over what to wear that evening. She didn’t want to look as if she’d dressed up for Jake, but she also wanted him to kick himself for rejecting her all those years ago. Finally she settled on a pair of khaki shorts and a turquoise knit camisole trimmed with lace and lined with a built in bra.

After she finished dressing, she filled a platter with raw vegetables and placed a bowl of spinach dip in the center. When the bell rang at ten minutes before six, Emma yelled, “I’ve got it!” and sprinted to the front door. Margie sauntered into the living room and found Alex with his arms already around her daughter.

“Hi, Maggie.” Jake smiled, looking sexier than ever in a pair of snug-fitting jeans and a snowy knit polo that accentuated his deep tan.

Emma glanced at him, wrinkling her brow. “
Maggie
? Nobody ever calls my mom that. She hates it. She’ll let you call her Margaret first.”

He glanced at Margie and shrugged. “What do people call her? She told me her name was Margaret. I thought that sounded sort of prissy.”

“Exactly what I’ve always thought. Call her Margie.”

Twisting his mouth a moment, he waved his hand. “Nah. I don’t like it. She’s definitely a Maggie.”

Emma peered at her, clearly waiting for a reaction. When Margie didn’t say anything, her daughter snorted. “You’re just gonna let him call you that after the stink you’ve made all these years over it?”

“He can call me Big Bird if he wants. It doesn’t mean I have to answer, nor will I grow to six-feet tall and turn bright yellow.”

Jake followed Margie into the kitchen and muttered under his breath, “Good answer, Rosebud.”

She grabbed the counter to steady herself against the pain of hearing him call her by the endearment he’d whispered in her ear while making love with her nineteen years ago.

“This is a nice condo.” He glanced around the spacious kitchen. “Did you buy it, or are you renting?”

“Renting. I wanted to make sure we liked it here before I invested in anything. I promised Emma, once we settled in, I’d buy a small house.”

She’d always yearned to stay in one place long enough to be eligible for tenure or, at the very least, have her driver’s license expire.

His gaze dropped to her bare legs and lingered. “Can I do anything to help with dinner?”

“How are you at handling a grill?”

A half-hour later, they sat down to a meal of marinated London broil, chicken/cranberry pasta salad, raw vegetables with dip, and fresh fruit salad.

Jake pointed to the separate bowl of strawberries. “Why didn’t you just put those in with the rest of the fruit?”

“Emma and I are both allergic. Dan loved them. I decided to make fruit salad while I was grocery shopping. I guess I automatically included them in my order.”

He took a bite of the pasta salad and groaned. “Oh, man, this is good. I know what I’ll be doing with my leftover roasted chicken from now on.” He smiled across the table at Emma and raised his eyebrows. “So, what decisions have you come to since yesterday?”

She stared down at her plate and murmured, “I love Alex, and I want to marry him.”

Alex hadn’t said much since he’d gotten there. It was unusual for him to be so quiet. Obviously he was embarrassed over being caught last night. Margie still hadn’t cooled down enough to trust herself to have it out with Emma. She passed Alex the platter of London broil. “Is something bothering you?”

His face turned bright pink as he seemed to struggle to swallow. “No, ma’am. I’m just trying to find a way to apologize for sneaking into your house at night.”

Emma’s face blanched, and her head snapped toward Alex. “They know?”

“Oh, yeah.” He snorted softly. “Please accept my apology, Mrs. B. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Let’s hope not. And since you’re going to be my son-in-law, why don’t you call me Margie or Mom?” She glared at her daughter. “And as for you, young lady, when I lose the urge to yank every hair out of your head, we’ll discuss how disappointed I am in you.”

“I’m sorry. It was the only way we could be together.”

“Of course it was. You weren’t supposed to be
together
.”

“When are you thinking of having the wedding?” Jake asked, changing the subject.

“Two weeks from today.” Emma pushed the food around on her plate rather than eating.

Margie wiped some barbecue sauce from her lips. “That’s not very much time to make the arrangements.”

“We’re not planning anything fancy.” Alex took another huge helping of the pasta salad. “If it’s all right with my dad, we’d like to get married in the garden at his house and have a reception there with just some cold cuts and salads.”

The yard overlooking the pond behind Jake’s home would be a beautiful spot for the ceremony.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his son. “Call it blackmail if you like, but there’s only one way you’ll get my cooperation on your wed—”

“Dad, I got a job today as a laborer on a construction site until August when I’m supposed to leave for the university. It’s boring, but the pay is good, and it’ll keep me in shape.”

“That’s great. But that’s not my condition. I’ll have nothing to do with this wedding unless you invite your mother and resolve things with her before the ceremony.”

Alex huffed. “Why the hell can’t you just leave it alone?”

“I told you why this morning. What’s it going to be? Don’t you think you owe it to your child to give him the opportunity to know his grandmother?”

Emma squeezed Alex’s arm. “Your dad’s right. I’ve always wished I had grandparents.”

Margie never knew her daughter felt that way. Dan’s mother and father had died in an auto accident after Emma’s birth. Margie had never discussed her parents with her daughter. All she’d told Emma was she’d had a major falling out with her domineering mother and left home at eighteen.

Jake squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Please, for the sake of your relationship with Emma, give your mom a chance.”

“Okay,” Alex muttered. “I’ll invite her. But I’m not makin’ any promises.”

Margie studied Emma’s gaunt face and looked down at her daughter’s full plate. She must have lost five pounds in the last month. On top of that, she looked exhausted. “Emma, you have to eat. You’re way too thin, and you’re not getting nearly enough sleep.”

“Just concentrate on her diet, Maggie.” Jake cast a sideways look at his son. “Your daughter will be getting lots of sleep from here on out. Won’t she, Alex?”

“Yes, sir.”

“To show Maggie how sincere and sorry you are, clean up the kitchen while Emma supervises.”

Margie led Jake into the living room, and sank next to him on the sofa, gnawing on her lip. “I don’t mean to pry into your family’s business, but since Alex is about to become part of mine, could you let me in on his problems with his mother?”

“I suppose you have a right to know.” His mouth drew into a thin line for a moment as he seemed to ponder what he wanted to divulge. “My wife walked out when Alex was eleven and cut the two of us out of her life. I was on the road a lot his first ten years, so, naturally, he was extremely close to Roxanne—which intensified his feelings of abandonment.”

“Why’d she leave? Was there someone else?”

“No. Not someone—
something
.” He fell silent while a look of indecision creased his forehead. Finally, he drew a deep breath. “I drove my wife into becoming a prescription drug addict. Living with me aggravated her problem.”

That was the last thing Margie expected. She couldn’t imagine Jake being difficult to live with. For the most part, he seemed fairly easygoing.

“Roxanne had problems with me being gone so much and the team groupies. She never trusted me.”

Margie wouldn’t have trusted him either after the way he’d jumped into bed with her while he’d been engaged. “Is that why you say you drove her to the drugs—you cheated on her while you were on the road?”

“No, way.” He shook his head vehemently. “You may find it hard to believe after what happened between us, but fidelity is important to me. I’d already decided to call off my wedding the night we slept together.”

Except, in the end, he hadn’t.

“Anyway, during my tenth season, I got sacked in the middle of a pass and cracked a vertebra which bruised my spinal cord.”

“I know. You’re lucky you weren’t paralyzed.”

“Actually, I was for several weeks. The doctors weren’t sure I would ever walk again. Roxanne was already hooked on tranquilizers, so when she started stealing my pain meds, she became a walking zombie.”

“Who was taking care of Alex?”

“We had a live-in housekeeper. Helen was like a surrogate grandma to my son. Two years ago, my father decided he needed Helen more than we did, and he married her.”

“That’s wonderful. He seemed so lonely the weekend I stayed at your house.”

“He was. They’re really happy together.” Jake shifted in his seat and turned toward her. “So once I recovered from my back injury, I decided I’d pushed my luck far enough and hung up my cleats. I hoped if I was home more my marriage would improve. Unfortunately, Roxanne didn’t give up pills. Having me in bed with her every night only made things worse between us.”

That didn’t make sense. Was Jake into kinky sex or something? “I would think having you home would’ve made her feel more secure.”

“I talk a lot in my sleep, and….” He blew out a long breath. “Look, the problems in my marriage aren’t pertinent to what you need to know. When Alex was eleven, my wife attempted suicide with an overdose of sleeping pills. Afterward, she told me she couldn’t continue to destroy Alex’s and my life anymore, and she wanted a divorce.”

“So you’re saying, he feels as if his mother deserted him—but in reality, she loved him enough to get out of his life.”

“That about sums it up. One of the things I’ve learned doing my clinical training is there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. Even when they hurt their kids, more often than not, it’s done in love. Take your mother.”

“Let’s not.” Thinking about Katherine invariably left Margie feeling bitter and angry. And since last night when she learned her own daughter was pregnant, she hadn’t been able to get her mother off her mind.

“Except she’s a great example to illustrate my point. Your mother may have been overprotective, domineering, and controlling, but I’m confident she thought she was doing the best thing for you.”

Margie’s conscience twinged at the truth in Jake’s words, making her sympathize with Alex. “I’d really prefer not to discuss my mother.” She shrugged one shoulder. “So what happened with Roxanne after she left?”

“Over the next three years she managed to clean herself up. When she tried to renew her relationship with Alex the year he was fourteen, he ignored her. My son doesn’t understand that I’m guiltier than she ever could be. He blames her for our divorce.”

“Even though you’ve never led him to believe
you
blame her?”

“Before now, Alex was too young to understand. But it’s time I shared with him my part in his mother’s problems.”

“I’m sure it couldn’t hurt.”

“That’s what you think. Falling off the pedestal he’s put me on could be very painful.”

~~~

Jake stared into Maggie’s eyes. Considering she hadn’t wanted him all those years ago, she seemed awfully interested in his marriage. What would she say if he told her she was at the root of his divorce?

“Regardless of how it affects Alex’s opinion of me,” Jake continued, “I have to tell him. I know what unresolved bitterness can do to a person. It eats him up inside. I want my son to forgive Roxanne and allow her to become a part of our family again. I don’t want to see him destroy his own marriage.”

“Dad?” Alex stood in the doorway, his arm around Emma. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I’d like to get Emma a ring and some maternity clothes, so I’ve decided to sell the Aston Martin and buy something cheaper. There’s no rear seat for the baby so we’d have to get another car for Emma anyway. Plus, I have her doctor bills to pay for.”