Warm Hearts (17 page)

“He's misinterpreted things, Norman.”

“So, what's the story?”

She shook her head in dismay. “I can't believe he called you.”

“He's my brother. My
younger
brother.”

“But he's still thirty-six,” she argued, tamping down a spurt of annoyance. “Did he really expect that you'd come running to his rescue and make everything all right?”

“I'm not sure what he expected. Maybe he just had to let off steam. But if I can help him, I'd like to.”

Caroline gave a tiny sigh. Norman was a good guy. For that matter, so was Elliot. Between them, though, they were going about things the wrong way. “I'd like to help him, too,” she said, “which is why I was going to call him later.”

“He seems to feel that it's over between you.”

“It is.”

“Because of another man?”

She felt another little burst of annoyance and had to remind herself that this was Norman, her partner. If she lashed out and antagonized him, things would be uncomfortable at work. Besides, she really did like him. While he had no business prying into her personal life, his heart was in the right place.

“No,” she answered calmly. “It's over because of Elliot and me. We're not right for a long-term relationship.”

“I thought you were perfect for each other.”

“Oh, Norman,” she said with a sad smile and a sigh. “You
wanted
us to be perfect for each other.”

“Sure I did. He's my brother and you're my partner and I like you both. What could have been nicer?”

“‘Nice' doesn't necessarily make for a good marriage.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Were you really planning on calling him?”

“Yes.”

“Please do, Caroline. I think you owe it to him.”

“I know that, Norman.”

“I've never heard him so angry.”

“His pride is hurt.”

Norman hesitated for an instant, clearly trying to be diplomatic about something he'd already mentioned once but unable to restrain his curiosity. “He did say something about another man.”

She gnawed on her lower lip. What she had with Brendan was private. Still, she wondered if a touch of the truth wouldn't go a long way toward pacifying Norman.

Her lip slid free of her teeth. “Elliot asked me out for this weekend and I refused. In spite of that, he showed up last night. While he was here, a friend of mine—a neighbor—arrived.”

“A man?”

“Yes.”

“Are you dating him?”

“I hadn't been before last night, but now, yes, I think so.”

“So Elliot saw you with the guy, after you'd turned down a date with him.”

“Elliot was in my apartment uninvited when he saw my neighbor arrive,” she argued. “To tell you the truth, I was grateful my neighbor appeared. Elliot was being a little pushy.”

“Pushy? What do you mean?”

“I think you know,” she murmured, quickly regretting she'd mentioned it. “Listen, Norman, all I can say is that I will call Elliot. If you want to know anything more, you really ought to ask him.”

“He's apt to tell me to take a flying leap.”

She snickered softly. “Why didn't
I
think of that?”

“Because you're too diplomatic. You really would be good for Elliot, you know. You'd tone him down—”

“Norman…”

“Okay. Go back to whatever it was you were doing. I'll talk with you later. Bye-bye.”

Very quietly, she replaced the phone in its cradle. Averting her eyes from Brendan, she set to work putting a pot of coffee on to drip. “He told me to go back to whatever it was I was doing,” she said self-consciously, “He should only know.”

Brendan had easily gotten the gist of the phone conversation. He was wondering whether this unwelcome intrusion from the outside world would sour her on their relationship. “How do you feel?”

“About what we've been doing?” She indulged in a private smile. “Perfectly justified and content.”

“How do you feel about Norman's call?”

The smile faded. “Badly. It was enough that Elliot was upset. Now he's upset Norman, so things are worse.” Setting down the coffee canister, she turned pleading eyes to Brendan. “Why did he do that? Why did he have to call his brother right off the bat to complain?”

“Maybe he just needed to talk to someone.”

She considered that for a moment, then gave a negligent shrug.

Brendan tried again. “Maybe he thought that Norman could straighten you out.”

She gave a soft snort, but she supposed that possibility was real.

He regarded her more soberly. “Maybe he wanted to beat you to the punch. Maybe he was afraid you'd get to Norman first with a report of attempted assault.”

She had to admit that that did make sense. She hadn't thought of what Elliot had done as an attempted assault, since she'd handled it and emerged without a bruise. But a court of law certainly might see things differently. Perhaps Elliot realized that. “It wasn't really … so bad,” she said in Elliot's defense. And I pretty much did tell Norman about it.”

“Only at his goading. At least, I assume he was goading.”

“Yes.”

She'd turned back to the coffee when Brendan rose from the bed and came to her side. “Don't let it get you down. You handled Norman well, and you'll do the same with Elliot.”

“Why do I feel like such a crumb?”

“Because you've conditioned yourself to feel that way.” He tipped his head and gave her a humorous once-over. “You don't
look
like a crumb. Do you realize that you're parading around here stark naked, without a stitch of clothing, much less modesty?”

She returned the once-over indulgently. “Look who's talking.”

“Isn't it great?” he asked with such a boyish grin that she had to shake her head in chiding.

“You are impossible. Here I am, trying to grapple with a serious dilemma, and your mind is in the gutter.”

He hooked an arm around her waist and anchored her to his side. “The gutter? No way! I'm simply saying that we're perfectly at ease with each other, and isn't that nice? Besides,” he rushed on, “I think you have to put your ‘serious dilemma' in perspective. Norman knows about what's happened. You were dreading his finding out, but that's over and done now. He's been mollified, hasn't he? And you've already made the decision to call Elliot. So, what's to grapple with—other than deciding what you want to do today?”

Before Caroline could answer, the phone rang again. This time she did think twice. After another ring and continued indecision on her part, Brendan lifted the receiver and put it to her ear.

She offered a hesitant “Hello?”

“It's me. Did you speak to Diane?” The accusation in Carl's voice left no doubt that his question wasn't idle.

She mouthed, “my brother,” to Brendan before speaking into the phone. “We had dinner together last week, but I already told you about that. She's called several times since then. Why? What's happened?”

“She informed me that I was being impulsive and that, according to you, if she gave me a little time I'd come to my senses.”

Caroline closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. She wasn't denying what Carl said, simply trying to understand how her good friend Diane could have been so tactless as to repeat her advice verbatim and then quote the source.

With a squeeze to her shoulder, Brendan left her side. She opened her eyes to watch him as he finished making the coffee. The sight of him gave her resolve.

“It's true, Carl. You are being impulsive.”

“Since when are you the authority?”

She was careful to keep her voice gentle, though she had no intention of backing down. “Since we were kids and you dumped every little problem in my lap. Since I was an undergraduate psychology major. Since I earned a Ph.D. in counseling.”

At the last bit of news, Brendan's brows went up. Caroline waved away the significance of the degree with her hand.

Carl was equally unimpressed. “Don't throw fancy qualifications at me. I'm not your client.”

“Right. You're my brother, which means that I know you better than I know most of my clients. You've always been impulsive. Things get a little rocky between you and Diane and you throw up your hands and decide that that's it, it's over. You move out of the house and start divorce proceedings without ever sitting down and trying to talk things through with her.”

“She's making crazy demands.”

“Do you have any idea why? Because she's trying to shock you into slowing down and thinking, really thinking, about all this. She doesn't want a divorce, Carl. She loves you.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“She does.”

“Then she has a strange way of showing it.”

The coffee started to drip. Brendan paused in his hunt for the mugs to give her an encouraging wink.

Caroline didn't take her eyes from him. “You've backed her into a corner. Maybe if you offer her a hand, she'll be able to express herself better.”

“Offer her a hand,” Carl retorted, “and she'd take both, and where would that leave me?”

“Happily married?”

“Fat chance.”

Dropping her gaze to the floor, she sighed. “Look, Carl, you have to do something. I've suggested marital counseling, but you've vetoed that idea more than once. You and Diane have to talk. If you don't you'll find yourself all alone down the road.”

“You're on her side.”

“I'm not on anyone's side.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, Carl.” Her patience was beginning to wear thin. “I'm rooting for you and Diane as a couple. You have so much going for yourselves. Take my word for it, your problems are minor compared to some that couples work through.”

With a vocal growl of frustration, Carl hung up the phone.

Caroline stared at the silent receiver for several long moments before slowly replacing it. She stood with her fingers curled around the edge of the counter and her head bowed. “I feel useless. Nothing I say seems to help, which would be fine if they didn't keep dragging me into it.”

Brendan reached over and tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “You've tried. What more can they ask?”

“Nothing, I suppose. But, damn, it's a little like the teacher whose own kid is flunking out of school. My field is counseling, but when it comes to the marriage of my brother and my best friend, I might as well be a … a caterer.”

He laughed. “Where'd that come from?”

A crooked smile stole to her lips. “It's my secret ambition. I've never been able to cook for beans.”

“I take it that's a warning.”

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes had grown teasing as they clung to his. She didn't want to brood. She couldn't possibly brood—not with Brendan here. He lifted her spirits, removing the weight that would otherwise have dragged them down. Yes, she felt badly about the call from Carl, but she felt something else. She felt like a person. Brendan's presence was a reminder that she had a right to her own life. “You're good to put up with all this,” she said in thanks.

“All what?” Brendan asked. He had been momentarily distracted by that look in her eye and had been thinking that she could make him feel like a million without uttering a word.

“My phone calls. Another man would have had his pants on long before Norman had finished.”

He shifted those marvelous shoulders of his. “I like being naked.”

She shot a glance toward the window and tempered a grin. “Lucky for us it's daylight. Who knows what that pervert across the courtyard would make of our dancing around in the nude.”

“Since I'm ‘that pervert' and I'm here, not there, I give us permission.” He drew her into a snug embrace, took a long, deep breath and gave a loud sigh of satisfaction. “This is what I like.”

She nodded her agreement against his chest, then opened her mouth to tell him what she'd really like to do all day when the phone rang again. Instead of speaking, she gave a growl much like the frustrated one Carl had made before he'd hung up.

“Does this happen every Saturday?” Brendan asked.

“Yeah. Let's go to your place.”

“My place is a mess.”

The phone rang again!

“But at least it's peaceful,” she argued in a higher voice than usual. “That has to be either my mother or my sister.”

“You're not the only one who has 'em,” he drawled.

She held him back and looked up. “Uh-oh. You get calls, too?”

The phone rang the third time. Scowling, she reached over, snatched it up and would have bellowed into it had Brendan not put a timely thumb against her lips. Very slowly he drew the thumb away. Very sweetly she said, “Hello?”

“Hi, Caro. I'm not in labor, but let me tell you, I have a pain in the butt! Mom is driving me nuts! She called me two minutes ago babbling on and on about a malpractice suit, and it's not the first time she's mentioned it. But it's so
pointless
for her to go on about it when she doesn't even know how much of a case she has. She has to wait to see how dad's leg heals. Do you think she's asked him how he would feel about a lawsuit? He probably wants no part of it. She has no
idea
what a suit like that will entail. She'll have to hire a lawyer—I told her
I
couldn't do it—and go through the hassle of collecting evidence, not to mention putting Dad through more and more exams. It'll take tons of time, a load of money and the case could piddle around in the courts for years. By the time she's done, they'll put
her
on the stand and prove she's loony!”

Since Caroline hadn't been able to get a word in, she'd shifted the phone away from her mouth and was filling Brendan in on the side.