Читать книгу Finding Family - GINA WILKINS - Страница 8

Chapter Three

“Your mother?” Rachel blurted before she could stop herself.

Aislinn grimaced. “I thought Mark had told you the whole story.”

“He said Carmen had an accomplice—someone who had been told she was helping a woman take her child out of an abusive situation.”

And then Rachel remembered what else Mark had told her about that woman. “He said she was his patient at the long-term care facility. And that she—”

“She died before Ethan and I arrived in Atlanta, leaving a letter telling the whole story,” Aislinn finished evenly. “I can’t begin to understand exactly how she ended up in Mark’s care, though I think she somehow arranged that on her own. I don’t know how it happened that my best friend married Mark’s brother, bringing me into their lives and leading Ethan here. I can only assume that some higher power intervened to bring justice to a family that had suffered entirely too much.”

“I’m very sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you. But I didn’t actually know her,” Aislinn said with a rather sad little shrug. “She left me with my grandfather and my great-aunt when I was only six months old. My mother was a restless spirit with a lot of emotional baggage. She had special gifts of her own, but she never learned to live comfortably with them. She spent many years engaging in self-destructive behavior and making poor judgment calls, such as helping Carmen smuggle Mark out of North Carolina. She ended up dying alone in the nursing home, a wealthy widow with multiple sclerosis and a guilty conscience.”

And Rachel had thought her family was complicated. “This is all very strange.”

“Tell me about it,” Mark muttered.

“Maybe we should spend some time getting to know each other,” Aislinn suggested, apparently trying to lighten the mood for the remainder of the meal. “Mark, you said you’re decorating your house?”

He nodded, taking advantage of the opportunity to change the subject. “I just moved in a couple of weeks ago and I didn’t bring much with me from my old apartment. I hired Rachel to help me furnish and decorate, make the place look nice and comfortable.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Not to Ethan,” Rachel speculated, studying his expression.

Ethan gave her a wry smile. “I’ve got to admit decorating doesn’t really interest me. I buy furniture that’s comfortable and functional and I arrange it in a way that’s most practical for me. Aislinn, now, likes that sort of thing. She’s a professional cake designer.”

Intrigued, Rachel asked Aislinn several questions about her business, and Aislinn responded in kind, so that they were soon talking like old friends. Rachel was even able to forget about Aislinn’s “gifts” for a little while, and enjoyed visiting with a woman with whom she had quite a few things in common. Ethan and Mark listened, neither adding much to the conversation.

She didn’t know how much help she had given Mark this evening. She’d been more of an intrigued spectator than a supporter, despite their brief under-the-table bonding.

They were almost finished with their desserts when Aislinn glanced at Rachel’s purse. “Your phone’s ringing again.”

Lifting her eyebrows, Rachel looked down at the purse. “But I turned off the ringer.”

Ethan shook his head in resignation. “If she says it’s ringing, you can bet it is.”

Pulling out the phone, Rachel checked the screen. “You’re right, it is. I don’t suppose you can tell me who’s calling?”

Hearing the hint of a challenge, Aislinn smiled faintly. “Not this time. I don’t think it’s an emergency, though.”

“Not to me, it isn’t.” Knowing Robbie would disagree, for that was who was trying to reach her, probably with another woeful tale of how understaffed he was at his restaurant that evening, Rachel slipped the phone back into her purse. “Funny how it always seems to be an emergency to whoever’s calling me.”

Aislinn searched her face, and Rachel had the uncomfortable feeling that the other woman, whether psychic or simply intuitive, saw entirely too much. But all she said was, “Some people get so busy taking care of everyone else that they leave no time to see to their own needs.”

Because that comment was all too applicable to her life, Rachel lifted her coffee cup to avoid having to respond.

Mark parked in the lot of Rachel’s apartment complex and wondered even as he turned off the engine if this would be the last time he would drive her here. He was rethinking yet again his decision to ask her to accompany him. Considering how nervous and uncomfortable he had been all evening, not to mention the inherent awkwardness of the entire situation, it would be a surprise if she ever agreed to go out with him again.

Which would be a shame, he thought regretfully. He really liked her, wanted to see her again—and not just for business. But he couldn’t blame her if she decided his life was in too much turmoil right now for her to get involved with him. Especially since she had confided that she had family problems of her own.

Without giving her a chance to decline, he opened his car door to walk her to her apartment. If this was to be their last date, he wanted to make it last a while longer.

“Would you like to come in for coffee?” she surprised him by asking when they reached the door.

He studied her expression to try to determine if she meant it or if she was only being polite. Because he wanted to accept, he decided it didn’t matter why she’d asked. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

He was curious how the decorator had done her own apartment. He liked what he saw—which boded well for his own place. He had seen pictures of her work, of course, but it was even better to see such a personal example. “Nice.”

“Thank you. I know it’s a little modern for your tastes, but it all seemed to work with the architecture here.”

Studying the clean lines of her furniture and the bold, sleek shapes of the accessories she had chosen, he nodded. “I agree.”

“Have a seat. I’ll put the coffee on.”

He settled on the couch, watching her leave the room. He really enjoyed watching her walk. Not too blatantly sexy, but just seductive enough to kick his libido up a notch.

Telling himself to rein it in, he looked around the room again. The basic theme was muted—midtoned woods, neutral fabrics, soft beige paint on the walls. Soothing and comfortable, with an occasional shock of bold, primary color to keep it from being too monotonous. A vivid red pillow. A cobalt-blue vase. A splash of bold green in a painting.

It was a lot easier to admire Rachel’s decor than to dwell on his own tumultuous emotions.

She returned carrying two mugs of coffee. “Sorry I took so long. I needed to check my messages.”

“It didn’t feel like that long. You get a lot of calls, don’t you?”

She made a wry face as she handed him his mug and settled on the couch beside him. “I’m afraid so. My family’s in the habit of thinking of me as their own personal ‘Dear Abby,’ on call 24-7.”

“So you’re the family caretaker?” He looked at her over the rim of his mug as he took a sip of the excellent coffee. “Most families seem to have someone who serves in that capacity, from what I’ve observed. Not from my own experience, of course.”

She shrugged. “I sort of fell into the role. My mother’s a dear woman, but my father spoiled her a bit. Ever since he died a couple of years ago, she has expected me to continue that pattern. I’m the oldest, you see. My sister, Dani, is three years younger, and my brother, Clay, just turned nineteen. Dani and Clay always seem to be in some scrape or another.”

“So you get to be the responsible one.”

She smiled. “I don’t really mind. Most of the time.”

“Between running your business and taking care of your family, it must be difficult for you to find time for yourself.”

She shrugged, which he supposed was an answer in itself. “I would think you’d have the same problem, considering your very demanding career.”

“Yes, well, I’m taking a few weeks off before starting the new practice. And I don’t have a family to worry about once I do start—er, at least I haven’t to this point.”

“You’re having trouble dealing with all of this, aren’t you?”

He set his mug on a coaster on her low coffee table. He was tired of talking about his newfound family. Besides, he didn’t like thinking of himself as someone else who needed to unload his problems on Rachel’s sympathetic shoulders. “I’ll get used to it. Look, I’m sorry tonight was so weird and awkward. I hope it didn’t scare you off from going out with me again—just the two of us next time.”

She smiled faintly. “I didn’t think tonight was so weird. I enjoyed meeting Ethan and Aislinn. They’re both very interesting people. As for you—I don’t scare that easily. If I did, I wouldn’t have gone out with you in the first place. I usually have a firm rule about not dating clients, especially when a job is ongoing—or in our case, just barely started. Had I been worried about consequences, I would have made an excuse not to have dinner with you last week.”

He found her straightforward manner very refreshing. If she was this candid in all her responses to people, it was no wonder so many came to her for advice and support.

He smiled. “I don’t usually mix business with pleasure, myself. Asking you out during our second business meeting was hardly my style. But I just couldn’t resist.”

Dimples flashed in both her cheeks with her smile. “I rather like being irresistible.”

He reached out to trace one of those alluring dimples with the pad of his right thumb. “You are.”

A hint of pink warmed her cheeks, but it didn’t seem to be caused by embarrassment. Rather, he thought he saw the same awareness in her eyes that he was feeling, himself. Which gave him the courage to lean his head closer to hers. The way she tilted her face upward was all the encouragement he needed to press his mouth to hers.

He had kissed her once before, briefly, when they had concluded their one previous dinner date. Just a tantalizing brush of lips that had left him hungry for more. This time he allowed himself to linger, and he was rewarded when she responded with an eagerness that mirrored his own. Maybe he hadn’t been the only one hoping that one initial kiss would lead to more?

He slid his arms around her, and hers went around his neck. She felt so good against him. Slender, yet strong, rather than fragile. Cooperative rather than yielding. When her lips parted for him, it was as much demand as invitation.

No shy ingenue here, but a woman with the confidence born of experience. He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Her brown hair waved softly around his fingers when he buried his hand at the back of her head. He loved the clean, natural feel of it. Her own fingers toyed with the shorter hair at his nape, causing a shiver of reaction to zip down his spine.

She tilted her head to a new angle, drawing in a quick breath before diving into the next kiss. He closed his eyes and went under with her, letting currents of sensation carry him away.

They were drifting downward toward the sofa cushions behind her when the telephone rang. Its shrill chime shattered the intimacy of the moment. As much as he wanted to pretend he didn’t hear it, he felt a sudden tension grip Rachel, and he knew the interlude was over.

Just as well, he told himself, drawing reluctantly away. It was too soon for this, anyway. And the timing wasn’t exactly ideal, considering everything else that was going on in his life right now.

Now if only he could believe any of that.

Her expression, which fell somewhere between regret and reprieve, told him that she was having a very similar internal dialogue. Sliding away from him, she reached for her phone and glanced at the caller ID screen. A sigh escaped her, and she set the phone down without bothering to answer. “I’ll let voice mail take it.”

“Don’t miss a call on my account.”

She shook her head. “It’s my ex-husband. I’m not particularly interested in talking to him right now.”

He knew she’d been married; she had mentioned it briefly during their first dinner together. He had not known that she stayed in contact with her ex.

The mood was most definitely broken. He pushed a hand through his hair and stood. “It’s getting late. I’d better go. Thanks again for going with me tonight.”

She walked him to the door. “So you and Ethan are going to have your tests Monday morning?”

He nodded. “They’re heading back home after that. Apparently, he’s led everyone to believe he’s on a business trip.”

“You still think it would be best for him not to mention you to the rest of the family until the test results are back?”

“Yeah. I still want him to wait.”

“How long will it take?”

“A couple of weeks, most likely. If the lab’s backed up, it could take three.”

“That’s a long time to ask him to keep such a big secret.”

“It’s been thirty years,” he said with a shrug. “They can wait another few weeks.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue with him. “Do you think you and Ethan will stay in contact while you wait for the results?”

He smiled slightly. “I won’t hang up on him if he calls. I don’t think Ethan’s much of a phone chatter, though.”

“No. Neither do I.”

He reached for the door.

“You know what the test will say, Mark,” she said quietly as his hand fell on the doorknob.

He paused without looking back at her. “I’m not psychic like Aislinn.”

“You don’t really have to be, do you?”

He sighed. “No. I’m pretty sure I’m exactly who Ethan said I am. I just need to see the test results before I make any decisions, you know?”

“You should do what feels right to you.”

He wished he knew what that was. “I’d like to schedule another meeting with you about my house. I’ll look at all the samples and drawings you left there and I’ll try to be more informed and coherent next time we talk.”

“I’m free for a while tomorrow afternoon. Or would you rather wait until—”

“Tomorrow sounds good,” he said, jumping on the offer before she could change her mind. “What time?”

“What about Ethan and Aislinn? Don’t you have any plans with them tomorrow?”

“Not really. I think they’re going to do some sightseeing around Atlanta tomorrow. We’re meeting for breakfast Monday morning before the DNA test.”

She frowned a little, and he suspected he knew what she was thinking. She probably thought he should have offered to entertain the other couple in his town. To be honest, he felt a little guilty about not doing so. But the truth was, he just hadn’t known what to do with them—not while he was still struggling to think of them as family. He was well aware that he was using the DNA test as a way to stall for a few more weeks before he had to fully face the looming changes in his life.

To his relief, she decided to follow his lead and concentrate on her work rather than his complex personal situation. “Two o’clock?”

“I’ll be ready,” he promised.

He was in a surprisingly good mood as he headed back to his car. It had nothing to do with his newfound family. Little to do with his renewed decorating plans. And everything to do with the fact that even after this not particularly spectacular evening, Rachel still seemed to be interested in him.

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you all evening,” Dani scolded her sister, less than half an hour after Mark left.

“That’s why I called you back,” Rachel answered with forced patience. “I couldn’t talk earlier, but now I can. What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you. What have you been doing all day, anyway?”

“I spent the day with a client.” She saw no need to go into any further detail.

“You work too hard, Ray-Ray. All day on a Saturday?”

There was no mistaking the genuine concern in Dani’s voice, and Rachel softened in response. “Don’t worry about me, sis. You know I enjoy my job.”

She felt a little guilty for leading her sister to believe she’d been working all day, rather than sharing a strictly personal dinner with Mark, but she didn’t give in to it. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to confide in Dani that there could be a new man in Rachel’s life. Dani would tell their mom, and then the two of them would hound Rachel for details and start offering unwanted advice.

“I know. But you should leave time for yourself, too.”

It was eerily reminiscent of what Aislinn had said earlier. Rachel cleared her throat, her guilt intensifying. “Um, Dani—”

“Besides, I really needed to talk to you today. Mother’s driving me nuts. You’ve got to help me convince her to get off my case about Kurt.”

Guilt dissipated in a puff of exasperation. “This is really between you and Mother. I don’t want to get in the middle this time.”

“But you have to talk to her. She’ll listen to you. She’s never listened to me.”

“Maybe because you get too defensive and argumentative with her. If you would just stay calm and discuss her concerns and then quietly present your own position, it would be so much more productive for both of you.”

“She’s the one who won’t stay calm. She starts ragging on me about Kurt and then trying to tell me how to live my life, and then when I calmly tell her that I’m old enough to know what I’m doing and I don’t really need her to make my decisions for me, she tries to make me feel guilty and irresponsible.”

Amazing how oblivious Dani could be about her own behavior, Rachel thought with a shake of her head. Anyone who’d heard that aggrieved speech would think that she was completely innocent in her frequent disagreements with her mother. Rachel, who had been a spectator for all too many of those head-to-heads, knew better.

Dani was always the first to raise her voice, the first to burst into tears, the first to claim that no one cared about her or what she wanted. Clay hadn’t dubbed Dani the drama princess for nothing. Their mother, he had added, was still the queen. When Dani asked what that made Rachel, he had merely shrugged and said Rachel was the “executive producer”—frantically putting out fires behind the scenes.

“And where do you fit into this scenario you’ve created?” Dani had asked pointedly.

With a shrug, Clay had replied, “Me? I’m just a member of the audience.”

That response still bothered Rachel when she thought about it. Losing his father in his teens and being raised in a household of strong-willed and very vocal women had not been particularly easy for Clay. As a result, he had searched for his identity outside the home—and she wasn’t thrilled about some of the places in which he had looked. Where he was still looking.

But she had to focus on her other sibling for now. “Dani, you can’t blame Mother for being worried about you. Let’s face it, you haven’t always made the best choices when it comes to men. And Kurt is married.”

“Don’t you start, too,” Dani said, immediately on the defensive. “He’s getting a divorce.”

“He’s been saying that for months. There’s been no evidence of it. Can’t you admit that there is reason to be concerned that he’s using you, Dani? That he has no intention of getting a divorce, but every hope of keeping you obligingly on the side for a while longer?”

“Now you sound just like Mother. I didn’t call you for a lecture.”

“No, you want me to argue your point to Mother. And I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I’ll stay completely out of it, but I won’t try to defend Kurt.”

“Well, thanks a lot.”

“There’s no need to snap at me. I’m not going to side with her, either. I’m not getting involved either way.”

“Neither one of you will listen to me. You’re both being closed minded and judgmental. If you would just give Kurt a chance…”

Rachel had heard this spiel all too many times. She cut in firmly, “I’ll listen to you anytime you need to talk, but I’m not arguing with Mother for you. Now, it’s getting late, and I’m tired. So, good night. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Fine. Great. Be that way. I won’t bother you with my problems again.”

She wished, Rachel thought as she closed her phone after Dani summarily ended the call. But she would bet that she hadn’t heard the end of this argument.