Blame It on Paradise (16 page)

“It’s
my
birthday, Ma.” Harry shoved his arms into his coat. “And I don’t want to spend it with
him
.” He jutted his square chin toward Jack.

“No problem.” Jack stood as Lina stepped into view beside Connie. “Lina, let’s go.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Harrison sang darkly, shaking his longish brown hair from his eyes. “You don’t get to make the dramatic exit while the rest of us sit here and listen to Ma cry about missing you. You stay, Jack. You’re the one she wants here anyway!”

“Harry!” Connie wailed, her tears starting as Harrison angrily wrenched the doorknob.

Anderson stood and swallowed his mother in a one-armed embrace. “Don’t cry, Ma,” he consoled.

“Look what you’ve done now, you ungrateful yits!” Sonny roared to his feet, which sent Anderson back down to the sofa. “Can’t you boys be in the same room for five minutes without goin’ at each other?”

“It’s not my fault that he can’t accept a simple gift!” Jack yelled.

“You can’t resist a chance to shove your money under our noses, can you, Jack?” Harry accused in an angry spray of spittle.

“I earn a good living! Is that a crime?” Jack fired back.

“Stop it,
stop it
, STOP IT!”

Lina’s voice took on a shrill quality that seemed to suck the air from the room. Connie and the DeVoy men froze silently in place, staring at the harpy in blue jeans positioned in the living room.

Harrison broke the silence. “I’m goin’ home.”

Lina stormed over to the door and shut it. “No, you’re not. You’re going to hang that coat back up, you’re going to sit down in that kitchen and you’re going to enjoy a big slice of the wonderful chocolate cake your mother took the time to prepare for you.

“And you,” she turned on Jack. “Has it never occurred to you to show your love without using your checkbook?”

Connie continued to sniffle into her sleeve. Lina approached her and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’d like to apologize to you, Mrs. DeVoy. I’m sorry that your children place their petty disagreements above your feelings. I can’t imagine that this is the first time it’s ever happened. I sincerely hope that Jack and Harrison plan to beg your forgiveness for starting such a row in front of a stranger.”

“Begging your pardon, Miss Marchand, but Jack and Harry have got a long history of sort of hating each other,” Anderson said.

Connie whimpered as if she’d been struck. Sonny gathered her in his arms, tenderly pressing his lips to her hair.

“Begging
your
pardon, but you’re wrong, Anderson,” Lina said. “Jealousy isn’t the same as hate.”

Harry shot a derisive sneer at Lina. “Jackson Heathcliff DeVoy ain’t got a thing I want, doll.”

“Back at you,” Jack snarled.

“Do you hear yourselves when you’re tearing into each other? You’re fakes, the pair of you,” Lina scoffed. “Jack, you told me all about Harry’s pretty wife and the house he’s been restoring himself. And from what I’ve seen of you, Harry, your brother’s financial security drives you mad. I’ve never had siblings, but from where I’m standing the both of you would do well to smother your egos, iron out your differences and learn to help each other.”

She whirled on Jack, angrily wielding a finger worthy of the most irritated schoolmarm. “Jackson DeVoy, you are a man entirely bereft of emotional attachments, other than to your infernal job. You rely exclusively on the kindness of strangers. You have them delivering your food, tidying your house, cleaning your clothes—”

“Buying birthday cards for your brother,” Harrison piped in.

“When was the last time
you
purchased a birthday card, Mr. DeVoy?” Lina shot toward Harrison’s corner. “I’d wager that pretty Beth is the card buyer in your family, and likely forges your name to the inside as well.”

Color blazed in Harrison’s ruddy cheeks.

“She shoots, she scores!” Anderson laughed. “Caribbean queen 1, the home team zip!”

Sonny made a hissing noise that sounded remarkably like “Shut the hell up.”

“I have a life, Lina,” Jack snapped at her. “If I didn’t, I’d have time to schlep down here for tea parties and gossip with my brothers.”

“When was the last time you went to dinner with a friend, Jack?” she demanded.

“I dine with Reginald and Millicent Wexler a few times a year,” he said.

“You’re not Reginald Wexler’s friend.” Lina’s eyes went cold. “You’re his pet.”

Harrison laughed but the sound had no merriment. “She’s got you there, bro.”

Jack’s face stiffened. “I didn’t bring you here to insult me or—”

“I didn’t come here to listen to you and your brother tear each other’s hearts out!” Lina’s eyes blazed with unshed tears. “If you actually hated each other as adamantly as you pretend, your cruelty toward one another wouldn’t be so effective. Since you’ve forgotten, let me remind you: you’re brothers. You love each other the way everyone in this room seems to love both of you.”

Muttering under her breath about overdramatic Americans, Lina went back into the kitchen, where the rattle of coffee mugs drowned out her words.

Sonny loudly cleared his throat. “A woman shouldn’t talk to a roomful of men like that, and certainly not under their own roof!” He lowered his voice and directed his next words at Jack. “When’s she goin’ back to that island of hers?”

“When are you going back to
yours
?” Lina retorted smartly, stepping into the room with the coffee pot, cups and a cracked porcelain cream pot upon a tin tray, which she set on the low coffee table.

“She’s got you there, Dad,” Anderson snickered as Lina moved past him.

Lina narrowed her eyes at Anderson. “As for you,” she said in a low voice of warning, “quit staring at my ass.”

A bright flush of guilt rose in Anderson’s cheeks and he busied himself with adding cream to one of the cups of coffee.

Lina went to the pegboard near the front door and retrieved her wool cloak. “Mrs. DeVoy, I’d like to catch some air. May I ask you to accompany me for walk? Perhaps there’s a pub or café nearby. We could sit and get to know each other a little better while your menfolk settle things here.”

Connie wiped her eyes, and she worked out a smile. “I think I’d like that, Ms. Marchand.”

“Connie, where’dya think you’re goin’?” Sonny asked. Lowering his voice, he said, “You can’t take her just anywhere around here.”

Lina guessed correctly that the brown wool coat hanging from a peg was Connie’s, and Jack’s mother allowed her to help her into it. “I think I’ll take her to the Green Shamrock,” Connie said as she resolutely buttoned and belted her coat. “I haven’t been there in ten years.”

“You can’t take her there,” Sonny insisted.

“Why not?” Connie said with a touch of defiance.

“Because she’s…they won’t…there’ll be
questions
,” he finally finished.

Connie straightened her spine and grabbed her boxy black purse, which had been hanging beneath her coat on the peg. “I’m fairly confident that Ms. Marchand is capable of handling anything anyone might ask her. So am I.” She looked at Jack and Harrison. “We’ll leave you to it, then.”

And with that, Lina shunted Harrison aside to open the front door, and she and Connie vanished into the sunny afternoon.

His head down and one hand shoved deep in his coat pocket, Harrison closed the door behind them and lightly kicked at the base of it with the scuffed toe of his work boot. He kept his other hand on the doorknob, but he made no further move to leave.

For one fleeting second, Jack saw his brother not as a thirty-year-old laborer who matched him pound for pound and inch for inch, but as the stubborn ten-year-old who used to kick the door when denied the chance to tag along with Jack and his twelve-year-old cohorts.

Jack had never excluded Harrison from his street hockey or stickball games because he was the goofy younger brother. On the contrary, it had been because Harrison was always better. Harrison had the faster reflexes, the stronger arm, the better swing. Jack had hated being shown up by his little brother.

He still hated it.

Jack had gone to college and law school, and he’d succeeded beyond even his own expectations. But Harrison…he’d gone to work at the shipyards with Sonny, he’d married a pretty girl and bought a house close by that he’d soon fill with children. Harrison was still outdoing him, and Jack couldn’t stand it.

Lina was right. He envied the way Harrison had found happiness in building the same life their father had, while he had done everything he could to make his own life as different as possible.

“Harry, I was wondering if you’d take a ride in the BMW,” Jack said uneasily. “There’s a funny knocking sound when I accelerate. The mechanics at the dealership haven’t been able to pinpoint the problem, but I figured you could.”

One, two, three, four more kicks sounded against the door before Harrison gave it a rest. “I have my coat on, so I might as well,” he mumbled. “Maybe I’ll take you by the gym. Beth hated that she couldn’t come see you this afternoon.”

“Beth went to work out this afternoon instead of coming to your birthday party?” Jack wondered.

“She’s working, not working out.” Harrison uncomfortably avoided Jack’s gaze. “She took a gig babysitting in the daycare at BS&A. It pays all right, and the hours fit around her shift at NECCO.”

Jack pursed his lips in a silent whisper. Beth worked long hours at “NECCO,” the New England Candy Company, through the week, and now she was spending her weekends taking care of the overprivileged children belonging to the members of the ultra elite Boston Sports & Athletic club? Jack decided that he’d have to find a way to slip Harrison enough money to keep Beth home on the weekends.

“Coyle-Wexler’s got a corporate membership at BS&A, doesn’t it?”

Jack nodded, not bothering to mention that he’d taken yoga classes there.

“Yeah, one of Beth’s Saturday morning regulars is a little boy named Joseph. His ma is an attorney for Coyle-Wexler. Say, you might know her. Adrian something?”

“Adrian Allen. We’re, uh, old friends. Co-workers.”

Harrison eyed Jack for a moment too long. “That’s what your pal Adrian said to Beth when Beth told her that you were her brother-in-law. Small world, ain’t it, bro?”

“Too small at times.” Jack reached into his pocket, withdrew his key ring and tossed it to Harrison, who caught it cleanly. “In the mood for a diagnostic spin?”

Harrison stroked his thumb over the BMW emblem on the tiny leather key ring. “Andy says you’ve got an M5 now. Is that right?”

Jack nodded. “It’s sweet. You’ll like it.”

“I’ll bet,” Harrison said through a tiny smile. He chucked the key ring into the air and snatched it back, cleanly. “Let’s go for a spin, Jackie. It’ll make it easier for me to work out that knock.”

* * *

Jack hung his Burberry jacket on the pegboard, then popped into the kitchen. He found Lina sitting at the table in one of the hard plastic chairs, her head hung over a steaming cup of fresh coffee, a stack of photo albums at her right hand. He kneeled at her side, and she turned in her seat to face him.

“Did you make up with your brother?” she asked.

“We reached an agreement on mutual disarmament.” He glanced at the photo albums. “I suppose Ma gave you my complete pictorial history from birth through last Christmas?”

Lina chuckled lightly. “She’s upstairs now, looking for some award you won in the sixth grade.”

“My state spelling bee ribbon?”

“The baton-twirling.”

“Like hell.” Jack’s eyes bugged in shock. “I was never a baton twirler.”

“Anderson was pulling my leg, then.” She laughed, but it turned into a yawn.

“I’m sorry about this afternoon.” He took her hands and kissed them. “I didn’t bring you here to get stuck in the middle of a whole family drama.” A wan smile came to her face, which looked strangely dull in color. He cupped her neck in both hands. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, perhaps a bit too vigorously. “I’m just a little tired. I had a glass of sherry at the pub with your mother. Perhaps I should have eaten something first.”

“We can grab something on the way home,” he told her, taking her hand. “Come on. Let’s say goodbye to my parents and get out of here.”

She rose from her chair. He tried to catch her mouth in a kiss, but she drew her head back. “Perhaps your father’s kitchen isn’t the best place for this. He doesn’t approve of me.”

“I don’t need my father’s approval to kiss you,” Jack said quietly. “Whatever his issues are, they’re his issues. Not ours.”

“I can’t imagine that I’m the kind of woman they expected you to bring home to them.”

“I’ve never brought any woman home to meet them, so they had no idea what to expect.”

“You know what I mean, Jack.”

“My parents aren’t racists, Lina. My father…he’s like most people. He fears the unknown. Besides, he likes you. He admires anyone with the guts to stand up to him.”

“Good,” she chuckled wryly. “I’d hate to see what he would’ve been like had he hated me.”

“He agreed with what you said about me and Harry. Then he and Anderson left for the hardware store, talking about what a great ass you have.”

“I’m not sorry for attacking you and your brother like that. You made me so angry. I’d give anything to have brothers or sisters to fight with, and to be able to bring my boyfriend home to meet my parents. You take each other so much for granted. I couldn’t watch it for one second longer without saying something.”

“You did in five minutes what Harrison and I haven’t been able to do in ten years.” Jack stroked his hands through the wave of hair trailing down her back. “You really are an amazing woman. You’re one surprise right after the other.”

“That’s me,” she said, dropping her eyes. “Miss Bundle-of-Surprises.” She pressed her body to his and draped her arms around his neck. “Let’s order in tonight, from that place with the wonderful chowder and stuffed shrimp,” she whispered, her breath a silky caress against the shell of his ear. “The sooner we get back home, the sooner we can ravage one another on my last night before Spain.”

“Jackie, you’re back,” Connie said merrily, popping into the kitchen with two more photo albums and a fat blue ribbon clutched to her chest. Jack and Lina sprang apart. “Where’s Harry?”