by Karen Booth
“Did you love any of your mistresses?”
“I loved Matt’s mom, but that relationship went awry, too. I’m not a good example of how a man in love should behave. I was too selfish to give someone else what they needed.”
“What about now?” I asked. “Are you better at it with your girlfriend?”
“Yes, but I’m not consumed with being in a relationship and neither is she. It’s a different dynamic. Calmer, more mature.”
I was consumed with Alice, but did that mean that I loved her? “I’m confused about how I feel.”
“I understand that you’re struggling to come to terms with your feelings. But you’re a good man with a good heart, and I’d be thrilled for you and Alice to stay together.”
“Thanks for your confidence. But I’m not right for her.” I wasn’t Alice’s dream man. Was I? At this point, everything seemed chaotic.
“Maybe you should ask her how she feels. She might be confused, too.”
It was sound advice, but could I do it? Not now, I decided, not this soon. “It might be too much to throw at her, with everything else that’s going on. I think it would be smarter to wait.”
“All right. I’ll call my boys and set a date for the family gathering, and you just try to breathe easy. Okay?”
“You, too.” He still looked worried about how Alice was going to react to his news.
We were both stressed over the same woman, but for different reasons. And I feared it was only going to get worse before it got better. If it got better at all.
* * *
Two days later, Alice asked me to spend the night at her place. But I probably should’ve stayed home. I was in a lousy mood. Just that morning, I’d learned that there were no matches for my DNA. No hits whatsoever. It made me feel more alone than ever.
I waited to tell her until bedtime, and she reacted with empathy in her eyes.
“Did you get the results from both websites today?”
I nodded. “Neither of them panned out. No distant cousins. Nothing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I gazed at the TV mounted on her wall. We were streaming Sons of Anarchy, the way we’d done at my house on the day of the photo shoot.
She muted the sound. “No, it isn’t. I can tell how disappointed you are.”
“I didn’t really expect it to be that easy. To just submit my DNA and magically find my dad or someone from his family.”
“I know. But you still had hope that maybe it would work.”
I shrugged. I was all screwed up. Not just about whoever my dad was, but about how Alice was making me feel, too.
Was I falling in love with her? Was that happening to me?
She rolled over, skimming her hand along my tattooed arm. The temporary one from LA was long gone. I missed seeing it on her skin, knowing that I’d put it there.
“I can help you,” she said.
I glanced up. “What?”
“To find your dad.”
“How?” I asked, becoming suddenly aware of her silky white nightgown. She rarely wore those sorts of garments to bed. It made her look like a bride. Or my vision of one.
I frowned at my own idiocy. Weddings were the last thing that should be crowding my already cluttered mind.
“We could contact a private investigator and give them whatever information you have.”
“I hardly have any info. And I don’t want to get a PI involved.” It just felt too personal to me, handing my family history over to someone else.
“Then we can do it ourselves. We can talk to your mother’s old friends, the ones she was traveling with when she met your dad. They might remember something useful.”
“I have no idea who took that trip with her. Besides, I haven’t seen any of her friends since she died.”
“Do you know any of their last names?”
“I remember Joanie Pierce. She was an aspiring actress back then. She’s the one Mom called to take her to the hospital, who was with her when she passed.” When my life had been blown apart, I thought.
Alice touched my arm again, softly, comfortingly. “Then we can start there. We can do this together.”
I reached for her, more confused than ever. She was offering to help me find my father, and I was withholding information about hers and panicking about falling in love with her.
“Maybe we should wait a while,” I said. “I don’t think I’m ready to continue my search just yet.” I couldn’t go on a daddy quest, not now, not like this.
“Just let me know when you’re ready.” She nuzzled against me. “I’ll be here for you, Spencer.”
Overwrought with anxiety, I held her. But in the pit of my screwed-up soul, I wanted to run and hide. To bow out of Kirby’s get-together. To not search for my father. And most of all, to stop seeing Alice. Yet as overwhelmed as I was, I couldn’t seem to let her go.
She said, “I hope that when you’re ready, we’re able to find your dad or someone from his family. Ever since I reached out to my dad’s family and connected with them online, it’s brought me some comfort.”
Her attachment to Joel’s family wasn’t going to help matters, not with the likelihood of Kirby being her father. But for now, I needed a reprieve, not just from our dads, but from my jumbled feelings for her.
I moved away from her and gestured to the TV, where crimes were being committed. “Do you want to finish watching the show?”
“Okay.” She reached for the remote.
She unmuted the volume, and I let the noise engulf me.
I appreciated the diversion, until the scene changed, showcasing a painfully tender moment between star-crossed lovers.
I suffered through it for a while, but when it dragged on longer than I could bear, I said, “Maybe we should turn it off now.”
“But we just started watching it again.”
I made a face. The couple on the screen were locked in an emotional embrace. “It’s getting late, and I think we should get some sleep.”
She checked the time on her phone. “It’s not even eleven.”
I defended myself. “I’ve been up since really early, and it’s been a long day.”
She conceded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She pressed the off button on the remote. “We can finish it another time.”
I motioned for her to extinguish the light. The lamp was on her side of the bed.
She darkened the room, and we closed our eyes and spooned. But sleep didn’t come easy for me. I stayed awake, pressed against her. And as I listened to her breathe, as I kept her unbearably close, my angst intensified.
Right along with my fear of love.
* * *
I woke up the next day, feeling exactly the same way. Alice wasn’t beside me anymore. She’d gotten up and left me alone.
I searched for my phone and checked the time. I’d slept until noon. I dragged my ass into the shower and soaped down.
Afterward, I got dressed and found Alice in the living room, curled up on the couch, with her nose buried in her laptop. Was she shopping for one of her new clients? I should be working, too, composing at my piano. But I was here instead, staring longingly at her.
She glanced up and spotted me. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
“Afternoon,” I replied, hiding my emotions.
“Are you hungry? You missed breakfast, but I made pasta salad for lunch. There’s a bowl of fresh melon, too. I already ate, but it’s in the fridge if you want some.”
“I wouldn’t mind a few bites.” Some fuel to restore my brainpower. I went into the kitchen and got the food.
I came back and sat next to Alice, watching her out of the corner of my eye.
She closed her laptop and said, “You had a tough night.”
At least I hadn’t been plagued with one of my
nightmares. That would have left me in a sickening sweat. “Did I wake you with my tossing and turning?”
“Yes. But I fell back asleep. Were you stressing about what we talked about? About finding your father?”
“I guess so.” I couldn’t admit that I was frazzled about my feelings for her. Or that I was keeping a secret about her family.
“Too bad people weren’t doing selfies back then. If they were, your mom probably would have snapped one with your dad.”
I put my plate down. “Do you have pictures of your parents you can show me?” I was especially curious to see her mother—the woman Kirby had swept into two troubling affairs.
“I have some separate ones of them in here.” Alice reopened her laptop. “I just need to find them.”
She had tons of current photos. I peered over her shoulder, watching as she scrolled through them. Her sister and the kids were in a lot of them. Her BFF Tracy, too.
“Oh. Here’s my dad.” She opened it to full view.
I analyzed Joel. He had a lanky build, sandy blond hair and a casual demeanor, the exact opposite of Kirby’s rugged appearance and outlaw persona. Alice didn’t resemble Joel. She didn’t look like Kirby, either. I couldn’t begin to guess which of the two men was her father.
“He seems like he would have been a nice guy.” I felt bad that her mother had cheated on him, but he was gone now. Kirby was still alive, worrying that Alice might be his daughter.
“His family says great things about him.” She clicked to the next picture. “This is Mama, before she got so depressed.”
Cathy had refined features, framed by dark red hair tumbling past her shoulders. She posed playfully for the camera, radiating innocence, sprinkled with a dash of sex appeal. Were those the qualities she’d conveyed when Kirby had first come upon her?
“She’s so pretty.” So intriguing, I thought. “You favor her.” Except Alice looked much wilder.
“Do you have any pictures of your mom I can see?”
I nodded. “Most of them are in boxes in my attic, but I scanned a few onto my phone.” I removed it from my pocket and opened the file. Up until now, I’d kept the album private. Alice would be the first person to view it. Rather than narrate, I handed her my phone.
She studied the first image, a headshot from my mother’s portfolio, showcasing her long, wavy brown hair, expressive eyes and glittering smile.
“Oh, Spencer. I can see her being an actress. She probably could’ve modeled, too. She was a natural beauty.” Alice lifted her gaze. “You don’t look like her, though. Even with as handsome as you are, you don’t have any features in common with hers.”
Clearly, I favored my unknown dad. “My aunt used to say that I inherited my mom’s spirit.” Of course, coming from her, it hadn’t been a compliment. But to me, it was.
Alice continued going through the album. “Is this you?” She grinned at the screen.
I leaned over to see what it was. “Yep. Yours truly.” I was about five, dressed in a fireman’s costume, the red plastic hat practically wobbling on my head. “I wanted to be a firefighter back then.”
“You were adorable.”
“I was shy.”
“And now you’re all grown up.” She roamed her gaze over me. “Big and strong and sexy. You can put out my fire anytime.”
I stared back at her, admiring the way her stretchy little top clung to her breasts. “I think I’d rather ignite it.”
The sound of a text interrupted our flirtation.
She returned my phone to me, without glancing down at it. I appreciated her respecting my privacy.
I checked the notification. “It’s from Kirby. He said that he can do the party this Saturday. I guess everyone else is available then. Is that too soon for you?”
She sighed. “It’s fine.”
“It’s okay with me, too.” I wanted to get it over with, the sooner the better. “I’ll let him know.”
“I’m excited about you meeting the twins.” She scooted closer to me. “You like kids, don’t you?”
“I haven’t been around that many. But yeah, I like them. Children and animals make the world go around.” When she smiled, I skimmed her cheek. But before I touched her too much, I said, “I should go. I have to work.”
“Me, too, actually. But we’ll see each other on Saturday.”
I got up and carried my barely touched food into the kitchen. I’d gotten too sidetracked to eat.
She walked me to the front door and kissed me goodbye, her lips tenderly fusing to mine. I slipped my arms around her waist and examined my feelings for her once again. Yet I left without getting anything resolved.
I was still as confused as ever.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Alice
I rode with Spencer to Kirby’s party. I wasn’t thrilled about socializing with Kirby, but I was determined to get through it. I wanted Spencer to get comfortable in family settings, and that was worth having to cross paths with Kirby.
We stopped at the security gate, and the guard let us in. Kirby’s house was an elaborate Southern mansion, renovated to fit his needs.
We parked in the circular driveway. We weren’t the first to arrive. In fact, it looked as if everyone else was already there.
Sure enough, they were. The family were gathered outside on the patio, a huge entertainment area flanked by grass and a playground for the grandkids.
I spotted Hailey and Hudson on the swing set with their cousin, Zoe, who was Tommy’s six-year-old daughter. Tommy was the middle Talbot son and a country superstar like his dad. He used to have a playboy reputation; groupies went wild for his messy-haired, hazel-eyed, daredevil charm. He was happily married now, and Sophie, his lovely brunette wife, was pregnant with their second child. I’d heard it was a girl, due sometime next month.
They were the first to greet us and make Spencer’s acquaintance. When Sophie waddled over and initiated a hug, her big beautiful belly bumped against me. It gave me a warm feeling, and I imagined the babies I hoped to have one day.
The men shook hands, and Spencer congratulated Tommy on his new reality show. The first one Tommy had done was so successful, the network had created another one exclusively for him. He liked working in television because it kept him home with his family instead of out on the road touring.
I looked around for Kirby, but I didn’t see our host anywhere. I spotted Mary organizing the dessert table with pastries she’d baked. She never showed up anywhere empty-handed. Brandon was by her side, helping her. Kirby’s chef and his staff stocked the main buffet, getting it ready, too.
Soon Mary and Brandon made their way over to us, and I introduced them to Spencer. I’d told Mary that my romance with him wasn’t serious, but I wasn’t sure if she believed it now that she’d had the opportunity to see us together. Maybe she could tell that I was fighting my feelings for him. Or maybe I was just so consumed with it myself, it felt obvious to me.
The final Talbot brother, Matt, and his wife, Libby, approached us. They lived on a recreational ranch in the Texas Hill Country with their three sons. Their oldest boy, a thirteen-year-old named Chance, was Libby’s son from a previous marriage. Sadly, her first husband had died. She’d gotten to know Matt while she was researching the biography Kirby had hired her to write.
I watched Matt and Spencer converse. It was interesting to see them together, these two mixed-blood men. As far as I knew, Spencer didn’t socialize with any other Native Americans. He didn’t attend tribal gatherings; no powwows or drum circles. Maybe that would change if he ever met his father or got to know that side of his family.
I decided to inquire about Kirby. It seemed odd that he was absent. “Where’s your dad?” I asked Matt.
He replied, “In the barn with my boys.”
“Chance wanted to take his little brothers to see the horses,” Libby i
nterjected. “And Kirby went with them.”
“That’s nice,” I said. I meant about the kids seeing the horses. But I let Libby draw her own conclusions.
She nodded and smiled. She was a perky blonde with peekaboo dimples. I had no idea what she saw in Kirby, but she adored him, along with the other women who’d married his sons—my sister included.
Kirby finally showed up, strolling back from the barn in his custom cowboy gear. Matt and Libby’s sons dashed ahead of him and joined the rest of the kids in the play area. Chance carried his youngest brother piggyback style, the little boy clinging happily to his neck. At Chance’s age, I was already running wild and getting into trouble.
Kirby acknowledged Spencer, and they embraced.
Kirby turned to hug me, and I went stiff. He embraced me, anyway. “I’m so happy you accepted my invitation,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’m here for Spencer,” I replied.
“I know.” Kirby smiled. “He’s a great guy. It’s nice that you two…” He fumbled a little, then said, “You get prettier every time I see you, Alice.”
I could feel Spencer watching us, and it made me feel even more awkward around Kirby. Normally I did whatever I could to avoid him. Admittedly, though, we’d worked well together on Tracy’s album when Kirby had used me as consultant on my mother’s music. But there had been plenty of tension, too, with me snapping at Kirby whenever things didn’t go my way.
Was I being too hard on him after all of these years? Should I try harder to forgive him?
I glanced over at Matt, thinking about what he’d overcome. He’d forgiven Kirby for abandoning him when he was young. He’d found the strength to let his pain and anger go. From my understanding, he’d done it for his wife and children, not wanting to raise his family from a place of resentment and hate.
If I had a family of my own, would this be easier for me? I moved closer to Spencer, realizing full well that he was the man I wanted to marry.
The man I loved.
As difficult as it was, it was foolish to keep fighting it. Yet there was no turning back now that I’d admitted it. I had no choice but to accept my feelings. Nonetheless, my heart knocked against my rib cage.
