Family Matters (9 page)

“And you've still got the youngest two with you.”

“Gran does,” she corrected him.

His brows rose a fraction. “I thought this was a fifty-plus community.”

“It is. The residents voted years ago to give my grandparents special permission for us because Gran—and Grandpa, of course, before he passed—lived here a long time.”

“‘Us?'” Again, his brows went up.

This time, she ignored the question and the movement. “I would have taken the boys with me when I moved to Chicago, but I didn't want to upset their lives…any more than already necessary. And I
couldn't
have uprooted Gran if I tried.”

“Chicago's quite a hike from here.”

“Yes, I know,” she said quietly, grateful he hadn't pushed about the issue of her parents. Their lives—and their deaths—weren't subjects she discussed with anyone. “I don't like being so far away. But there were no jobs here when I got my degree, and the money's much better there. I'm able to help Gran out more. I gave her a cell phone so she can always reach me. I'm
in near-constant contact and come home a lot on weekends and school breaks.”

Why was she spilling all this information? To distract Matt from the fact that Uncle Bren and Olivia seemed much too cozy as they walked along the path from the parking lot? To delay going in to what would have to be an awkward meal with all of them together?

Or because the kiss she and Matt had shared had unsettled her as much as it seemed to have unsettled him?

Even though he'd grown quieter afterward, that kiss had offered her the faintest flicker of hope. Maybe
that's
why she was rattling away like one of her more hyperactive students.

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility for you,” he said.

She shrugged. “I do what I have to.”
And give up what I have to.
She pushed the thought away. “In an emergency, Patrick's just a few minutes down the road, when he's not on a business trip.”

“Then the rest of the time, your grandmother's in charge of those two boys over there?” He waved toward her brothers, now leading the group across the parking lot. “Seems like a lot for a delicate older woman to handle.” Gran had just pulled up. “What's with the trike, anyhow?”

“She refuses to ride in anything with a motor. Air pollution, you know. She rode a bike for years, until we all ganged up on her and told her she needed something more stable. Uncle Bren came up with the idea for the trike and made it for her.”

“Your uncle—” he began, his brows knitting together.

“You think she's delicate?” she blurted, trying to divert his attention. “Gran's about as fragile as a Sherman tank. You've seen her on the trike. You should watch her taking the boys on at the track.”

His eyes widened. “You're kidding.”

“Not a bit. She's won more local and state marathons than anyone else in town. Appearances can be deceiving.”

He swung his gaze to Colin and Brody again. “Not with those boys, I don't think. They're younger than you, obviously. And just as clearly related.” Reaching out, he touched one of her curls. “Who's who?”

“Uh…” For a minute, her mind went blank.
Come on, Kerry. Get a grip.
She shook her head, unintentionally swinging her hair out of his reach. “Colin's the taller one. He's fifteen. Brody's twelve.”

Her brothers had moved ahead of the rest and acted as if they were separate from the group. She understood the feeling.

As Matt continued watching them, she concentrated on him.

That twinkle in his eyes wasn't meant for her—no matter how much she might wish that. And, of course, the sparkle wasn't even coming from a genuine emotion inside him, but from the lowering sun. That didn't matter. The sight entranced her, anyhow, in the way the light transformed his irises from hazel to golden brown. It would take a while to mix the right colors, but she could match that exact shade.

And the way the sunbeams played off his dark hair. Now, that would be an interesting use of—

“Find any gray hairs yet?” he asked.

“What?” Her cheeks burned. “I mean, no.” She gestured widely, pointing to an oak tree spreading its branches across one corner of the parking lot. “I was watching that hummingbird at the feeder.”

“Uh-huh.”

Matt had lost interest. Worse, his eyes had suddenly lost their sparkle. He stood glaring, his face turned toward the restaurant. The boys and Gran had disappeared through the
open door. Uncle Bren had his hand at Olivia's waist as he escorted her ahead of him.

Beside her, Matt's shoulders strained against the fabric of his shirt. He muttered something she couldn't catch and took a half step forward.

She grabbed his arm. Muscles tensed beneath the shirt-sleeve, tingling the tips of her fingers, making her want to hold on tighter. She stopped herself, barely. But she couldn't stop herself from envisioning him cradling her in the circle of his arms. Cheeks burning, she snatched her hand away. “You're not planning on making a scene in there, are you?”

He turned back. “You're not planning on holding me captive, are you?”

“Reading my mind again?” A second later, she realized what she had said. And how he could take it. Evidently, how he
had
taken it, judging by the way his mouth curled at one side.

She had a vision of that mouth brushing lightly against hers, and a warm, pulsing sensation suddenly coursed through her. She swallowed hard and forced herself back to the here and now.

Even as Matt's mouth smiled, his eyes stayed emotionless, canceling out any indication of humor.

She didn't know which part of his expression to believe—or which was worse. Having him laugh at her words, making her feel foolish. Or having him fake a response, making her angry with herself for caring how he felt.

She knew how
she
felt, too.

Ignoring the heat flooding her cheeks, she raised her chin and stared him down. Up, actually, as he stood a foot taller than she did. “I'll do what I have to do. We might as well get that in the open right now, if it isn't clear already.”

“Calm down, Kerry Anne.” He held her gaze. “You're a real fighter when it comes to your family.”

“Of course. Aren't you?”

She forced herself to look away and head across the walkway, trying not to think about him trailing behind her. Trying not to wonder why, when the sun still sent out strong rays of light from the horizon, his eyes had suddenly looked as if they'd been shadowed by a cloud.

Matt followed the rest of his group through the restaurant.

The one huge room was crowded, noisy and smoky from the busy grills. Long wooden picnic tables and matching benches sat in rows up and down the space, with occasional breaks between for aisles that didn't seem wide enough to handle the flow. The decorations ran from weatherworn highway signs to expired and battered license plates, with a handful of old movie posters thrown in.

The boys moved ahead of the crowd, worming their way through the press of bodies, and found a littered table off to one side of the room.

“We're supposed to bus our own tables?” Matt asked in surprise.

“The waitress will be along in a minute,” Kerry informed him. “You see how busy they are.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. The food smelled good, and he felt hungry despite the haze of grease in the air. “A real cholesterol-counter's heaven here,” he murmured.

Kerry shrugged. “It's not as bad as it looks.”

“It's probably worse.” His eyes surveyed the area but his mind was still on her. What could have happened for Kerry and her brothers to lose both their parents already, and so young? He couldn't imagine a childhood without his mom.

His father was another story.

“Hey, people. Let me take care of that.” A short, plump woman with a cloth in one hand and a spray bottle in the other made quick work of cleaning the table.

Kerry and Bren followed the two older women onto benches. To Matt's annoyance, that left him with the choice of sitting beside Kerry or her uncle. No contest. He took the space next to Kerry. Brody and Colin promptly filled in the ends of the benches, hemming him in by MacBrides no matter which way he turned.

The waitress left them with a stack of plastic-coated menus. Brody sent them sliding, one by one, along the length of the table. Matt grabbed the last menu before it could slip past.

“Thanks for the service,” he said.

“No problem,” Brody answered, missing Matt's sarcastic tone completely. He picked up a set of salt and pepper shakers. “I'm gonna be a juggler in the circus when I grow up. Wanna see?”

“Not right now,” Matt said quickly.

Colin turned away in teenage contempt at his younger brother.

Brody shrugged and went through the same routine with the salt and pepper shakers that he had with the menus. The saltshaker caught in a crack between two boards of the table and toppled over, spewing white crystals into Matt's lap.

When Brody reached for a ketchup bottle, Matt got to it first and gave him a jaw-locked grin. “Why don't I pass this along?” he suggested.

“That's no fun,” Brody said.

“But a heck of a lot safer for those of us on the receiving end.” Matt turned to hand the bottle down the table and found Kerry eyeing him. “What's the matter?” he asked. “Did I just break a family tradition?”

“Yes.” One corner of her mouth quirked up as if she fought not to give him the satisfaction of a smile.

He found satisfaction in the sight, anyway, even as he wished he didn't. Teasing Kerry, flirting with her, was dangerous. “You guys must be a barrel of laughs at reunions.”

“You'll never know how much.”

And never want to.
But he kept that thought to himself.

At the other end of the table, MacBride had obviously made himself indispensable to his mother, holding out a menu and consulting with her over it as if it held the answer to world peace.

The man defied belief. He exchanged greetings with anyone within shouting distance, knew all the waitresses by name, and generally acted as if he were mayor of Lakeside, or at least owner of this burger palace.

The waitress returned with their drinks and unloaded her tray onto the table between the two boys. Brody reached for the closest mug. Matt looked at him. He looked back.

The kid had red hair, like his sister's, and a map of freckles across his face. His blue eyes, also uncannily like Kerry's, remained turned in his direction for another minute, then finally, the boy lifted the mug and took a long gulp.

Matt drank deeply from his own mug.

“Hiding a smirk?” Kerry murmured.

He put the drink down. “Just thirsty.”

“Uh-huh. I saw the staring contest. You do like to get your way, don't you?”

Frowning, he turned to her. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Just an observation.”

“And you're good at that?”

“Observing? I hope so. Artists depend on a trained eye and awareness of their surroundings.”

“Teachers probably rely on those even more.”

She ducked her head.

“Hiding a smile?” he asked. “You know, you're not the only observant one around here.”

“Really?” She tilted her head, arched one brow, met his eyes…then deliberately looked past him.

Almost afraid to find out what had caught her attention, he turned. The MacBride brothers sat in heated debate over a handheld videogame. On the table in front of Matt, a shower of white crystals dusted the surface all around his mug. Evidently, one of the boys had managed to steal time away from the entertainment long enough to add salt to his root beer.

He looked back at Kerry. “Which one did it?”

“Uh-uh, Counselor.” She raised her hands, palms out. “You're not pulling me in as a witness. I didn't see a thing.”

“I'll bet.” He pushed the mug away from him, scraping a path through the salt. “You MacBrides all hang together.”

She moved toward him, frowning, and muttered, “That sounds like another one of your threats.”

“No. Only my trained eye making an observation.”

“Very funny.”

He leaned down, copying her move, getting closer.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Getting an awareness of my surroundings.”

Judging by that telltale flush on her cheeks, she was already very keenly aware—of him.

He could easily return the favor.

In fact, he'd been unable to get his mind off her ever since he'd been crazy enough to kiss her. On the one hand, he'd thoroughly enjoyed the experience. On the other, he wanted like hell to forget it. He'd never felt more confused in his life.

What had gotten into him, teasing her, kissing her—when he should just walk away?

 

K
ERRY SPENT AN UNEASY
hour trying to distract Matt. Anything to keep him from an outright confrontation with any member of her family.

He spent half the time glowering toward one end of the table, where Uncle Bren kept Gran and Olivia laughing through their meal, and the other half of the time sneaking suspicious looks at the boys sitting at the opposite end.

In between, he managed to focus his attention on her, flirting with her and keeping her mind actively working at matching his quick wit. Though she enjoyed his teasing, she didn't trust it.

So she was more than ready to leave when everyone had finished eating.

“Kerry Anne,” Gran said as they filed out of the packed restaurant into the cooler air outside, “what have you done about your car?”

“I called the shop this afternoon. It's ready for pickup. I'll go home tomorrow and get it on Monday.”

“But you will be back again?” Gran asked.

“Yes.” She was in this for the duration, now. No turning back, no hiding out at her studio at home, no hopping a plane for Europe. Right now, she had no time in her life for all those dreams. Plain and simple, she had to take care of her family.

“How will you get up to Chicago, love?” Gran's forehead puckered with worry. But her eyes were suspiciously bright.

“I'll drive her,” Colin said instantly.

“Not a chance,” Kerry told him. “You don't even have your permit yet.”

“It'll be great practice for when I
do
get it.”

“No, thank you.”

“Uncle Bren can take you,” Brody offered.

“That's what I was hoping.” Smiling, she turned to her uncle. “We can leave first thing in the morning, and—”

“Uh, Kerry.” He cleared his throat. “I would love to, but I've got plans for the car tomorrow. All day. If I could change them at this late notice, you know I would, but…”

“Matthew,” Olivia spoke up. “Didn't you say you were getting an early start in the morning?”

“A very early start, Mom.” His expression stayed neutral with what looked like an effort.

She didn't understand his reactions at all.
He'd
made the first move to kiss her out on the pier, not the other way around. Then, after they'd left the amusement park, he'd grown quiet, as if he didn't want to be in her presence. And yet, all during the meal, he'd flirted with her. Now, it seemed, he was back to avoidance.

She wished the man would just make up his mind!

Somehow, she managed to keep from saying her thoughts aloud. If he didn't want her company on the ride home, she wouldn't grovel.

“I'm sure Kerry wouldn't care about having to get up a little early,” Olivia pressed.

Kerry could have sworn the gleam in her eyes matched Gran's. For crying out loud, were the two women keeping score?

Matt shook his head. “Kerry would mind, as early as I'm planning to leave.”

Now he was making assumptions about her. Annoyance turned to irritation. “I'm up at 4:00 a.m. every school day,” she said coolly, staring at him.

“That's the time I was intending to head out,” he said, not looking at her. “All right, then, I'll pick you up in the morning.”

“The problem is solved.” Gran beamed and, taking Olivia's arm, began walking toward the parking lot.

Everyone else followed.

At the rear of the procession, Kerry swallowed hard and
turned in Matt's direction. “Thanks for letting me go along for the ride.”

He shrugged. “I'm headed that way, anyhow.”

“Oh.” Well, she shouldn't feel let down about his response. After all, he hadn't agreed to take her home because he couldn't live without her company.

As a last resort, she could back down, could ask Uncle Bren to change his plans. But she really didn't want him making the long drive to Chicago and then the equally long trip back home.

She was stuck with Matt.

Or, judging by his attitude, he was stuck with her.

“Fine, then,” she said politely. “I'll be outside Gran's at four.” If her words were clipped, Matt didn't seem to notice.

Obviously, being this close to her family had cooled any interest he might have had where she was concerned.

The story of her life.

It was all for the best, of course—any relationship between them would be doomed. They could never survive as a couple. They hadn't even lasted through this weekend together.

The faint hopes she had built since that kiss they'd shared promptly collapsed.

 

D
URING THE DRIVE BACK
to Chicago the next morning, all Matt could think of was Kerry sitting beside him. Kerry teasing and taunting and drawing pictures of him. Kerry warm and comfortable in his arms.

He must have driven on autopilot, because he sure didn't remember making the trip back to Chicago.

By the time he pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment house, he felt as if he'd argued at the bench for hours—without having said a word.

She had read a book during the entire drive, which was fine with him. He hadn't had anything to say to her and didn't
want anything else to do with her. Or her crazy family, who seemed to have successfully corrupted his mom, too.

He wondered where Kerry's parents were and why she and her brothers had lived at Lakeside Village with their grandparents. He thought about the phone call she'd received on their way out of town the other day and felt curious about the plans she'd given up to help her uncle. He wondered a lot of things about Kerry Anne MacBride.

But that didn't mean he wanted to be matched up with her.

When he had carried her bags inside and left her on the doorstep, he was determined to leave all thoughts of her behind.

He went home to his empty apartment and, for lack of anything better to do, raided the refrigerator. The hunk of dried cheese and the four-day-old container of take-out Chinese did nothing to distract him or make him feel better.

A few laps around the hoops might. He got into a T-shirt, shorts and athletic shoes and headed for the basketball court a few blocks from home.

On the way, he made a couple of stops, winding up in front of a newspaper kiosk where a withered old woman broke into a toothless smile when she saw him.

He'd once successfully defended Mary on a trumped-up loitering charge, and though he'd taken the case pro bono, she'd insisted on repaying him in the only way she could—with free newspapers. She'd have delivered them to his doorstep if she'd known where he lived. As it was, he made sure that every time he stopped by, he evened the score by bringing a cup of her favorite tea with honey. He plopped the covered paper cup on the counter and grinned back at her.

“Morning, Mary.”

“What kind?” she asked shrewdly. “Good or bad? You're not saying?”

“Fair.”

“Ahh. And just how'd that ride down south go?”

He shrugged, wishing now he hadn't decided to stop for a last-minute newspaper before picking up Kerry on Friday afternoon. Wishing twice as hard that he hadn't told Mary briefly about the situation in Lakeside.

“Cat got your tongue, huh? That's a bad sign. Or a good one, depending which way you look at it.” She winked. “So tell me about it, Mr. Lawrence.”

“Nothing to tell.” He considered—for the hundredth time—all the reasons he needed to stay away from Kerry MacBride. “She's not my type at all. I don't like petite women. And you know I prefer blondes.” He pretended to leer at her.

Ninety if she was a day, Mary still got a kick out of flirting.