His Real Father (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Salonen, Debra

  She draped the chamois over the wash bucket then started winding up her hose. “Your mom says Gunny’s zest for life is good medicine for her, but, in all honesty, I get pooped when I’m around him too long.”

  Joe followed her to the hose bib. “Why are they getting married? Couldn’t they just travel together? She’s not pregnant, is she?” he asked with a wink.

  Lisa gave him a get-real look, but inside she chuckled. She’d missed his wicked sense of humor. “I suggested that—the roommate part, not the pregnancy. But your mother says it wouldn’t look right. Even if the world is going—”

  “To hell in a handbasket,” Joe finished. They’d always been the kind of friends who completed each other’s sentences. “I take it that’s still one of her favorite sayings?”

  Lisa nodded, a little choked up for some reason. She gave her attention to the hose. After a minute, he asked, “So, we’re confident this guy’s not just after her money?”

  She tried to smile, but the effort must not have succeeded because Joe said, “Either I’m losing my touch or you’re not happy about this wedding.”

  The sad fact was Lisa felt closer to Maureen than she did her own mother. She honestly didn’t know what she’d do with Maureen gone. Maybe that was another reason Lisa wanted to buy the bar, to keep a part of the past intact.

  “I’m going to miss her. That’s all,” she said. “But she told me when they’re not traveling, they’d live at Gunny’s place on Lake Tulloch. So she’ll be close by.”

  Joe was studying her face as if he could read something she didn’t want him to see. “Be honest. Yes or no. Do you like him?”

  Lisa swallowed. Yes and no. “Brandon thinks he’s awesome because he owns a Corvette, but to me, he’s the man who’s taking your mom away. I guess that makes me kind of selfish, huh?”

  “I know the two of you are close…”

  “She’s a real mother, Joe. You know that.”

  Lisa moved to the opposite side of the car. She didn’t like talking about Constance. Although her mother had reformed a bit over the years, Lisa still felt resentful about the early years when Constance’s social life had seemed to take precedence over her daughter’s needs.

  “Is Connie serious about this new guy?” Joe’s tone resonated with sympathetic understanding. He’d been privy to many of Lisa’s gripes about her mother’s lifestyle when they were kids. Patrick had never seemed to understand why Constance’s sex life bothered Lisa so much. “So she sleeps around,” he’d once said. “Big deal. Who’s she hurting?”

  “Me,” Lisa had wanted to cry, but she’d kept the words inside. He wouldn’t have understood anyway.

  “I don’t know. But he is single, at least.”

  “See?” Joe exclaimed. “I was right when I said that Jezebel thing was just a phase. I knew Constance would go legit someday.”

  Lisa’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe he recalled a prediction he’d made nearly twenty years earlier during a game of Truth or Dare. “You remember that?”

  “Of course.” His grin was effused with the damnable Kelly charm that made her knees weak and her brain turn to applesauce. She carried the remainder of her car-washing implements into the garage. She needed distance to gain control of her emotions. Even though the old attraction still existed between them, she couldn’t let Joe distract her from her goal. There was too much at stake—her son’s future, for one thing. Lisa had promised Brandon four years of college, and she planned to see that he got it.

  Brandon was a great kid, but had turned into a teenage tyrant almost overnight after his grandfather died. He’d become secretive and touchy. He missed curfews regularly and argued about every little thing Lisa asked him to do. He even blew off his grandmother’s requests for help, like this morning. And Lisa was afraid he might be experimenting with alcohol.

  Lisa understood, or thought she did. She’d gone through a rebellious stage herself, and was just beginning to comprehend the results of her actions seventeen years earlier.

  In one of her psychology classes, she’d learned that one’s underlying beliefs colored a person’s perception of the world and triggered certain unconscious responses. Lisa believed she’d slept with Joe Kelly on graduation night because he was leaving—the way her father had. The way all the men she loved did.

  Because of her impulsive decision, Lisa had wound up pregnant. For reasons only Patrick could explain, he’d chosen to tell a lie—a lie that had made Lisa believe he was the father of her child. A lie that Lisa had wholeheartedly accepted until a casual remark from Maureen had brought Patrick’s “truth” into question. If Patrick wasn’t Brandon’s father, then only one other man could be.

  Now, Lisa was faced with the biggest decision of her life. Did she tell Joe what she suspected—and prove to the community of Worthington that, like her mother, Lisa had no morals? After all, what kind of woman slept with one brother when she was going steady with the other?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “HEY, LEESE, WOULD YOU DO ME a favor?”

  Lisa was so wrapped up in her inner turmoil she’d almost forgotten Joe’s presence. She gave her head a stern shake. Later, she told herself. You can figure out the past after you take care of business.

  “Sure,” she said. “If it doesn’t take long. I’ve still got some studying to do before your mother’s party. And I told her I’d make deviled eggs.”

  He finished off whatever was in his cup and walked to where she was standing. “Can you spare an hour? I’d like to scope out the town. Driving around in your convertible would give me good visuals, and I’m sure you could help stir up old memories.”

  Scope out Worthington? Stir up memories? Was he nuts? But no plausible excuse came to mind, so she said, “I suppose so…if we could do it now.”

  He lifted his mug. “Let me run this home and leave a note for Mom. She said she was going for a walk, but she didn’t say how long that takes.”

  “Usually about an hour—unless she bumps into somebody and gets talking. And this is Sunday. She might have stopped at the church.”

  The Kellys were Irish Catholic—Lisa’s mother a self-professed “lapsed agnostic.” When Lisa and Patrick had become engaged, Lisa had started taking classes to join the church but had dropped out after he died. Being an unmarried mother seemed contrary to church doctrine. When Maureen had offered to have baby Brandon baptized, Lisa had supported the idea, but ever since his grandfather’s death, Brandon had turned his back on religion.

  “Mom said something about talking business this morning. Maybe there’ll be time when we get back.”

  Lisa’s stomach made a funny noise. Lately, she’d been too tense to eat. She hoped that once the fate of Joe’s Place was decided, she’d be able to stop worrying.

  “It would probably be better if the two of you talked first. Maureen has my offer. A Realtor friend of Mom’s drew it up for me. He’s going to handle the escrow account, if Maureen decides she wants to sell to me.”

  Joe looked as though he wanted to say something but changed his mind. “Okay, then, I’ll be back in a second. The bulk of my equipment should be arriving tomorrow, but all I need right now is my camera.”

  He disappeared, sprinting around the hedge like the boy he used to be.

  Lisa was still standing, hands on her hips, trying to figure out how Joe’s filmmaking would affect her, when Maureen walked up.

  “You look perplexed.”

  Lisa took a deep breath and let it out. “Your son was here. He asked me to drive him around town so he could check out all the changes.”

  “Really? Why doesn’t he just take my car and go look for himself?”

  Lisa shrugged. “Maybe he’s used to having a chauffeur.”

  Maureen threw back her head and laughed. Her white bob bounced around cheeks that had filled out in the time since her final chemo treatment. “More likely he just wants to spend time with you. He is a single man, after all.”

  Lisa didn’t like the sp
eculative look in Maureen’s eye. Maureen was a wise woman who had stepped into her husband’s role as counselor to a great many patrons of Joe’s Place, but Lisa doubted Joe had confided in her.

  Joe was a relative stranger to both women—a wild card, and Lisa needed to remember that. She would keep her guard up until after escrow closed. If escrow closed. But she didn’t mention that. To Maureen, she said, “Joe suggested we sit down together after our little reconnaissance mission and discuss the sale of Joe’s Place.”

  Maureen shook her head. “Won’t have time. Gunny just called.” She pointed to the cell phone attached to her waist. Lisa had insisted Maureen carry it after a fainting episode last summer. “His daughter-in-law has some kind of event scheduled this evening, so he wants to do the barbecue earlier. They should be arriving around one. Are you still making your wonderful deviled eggs?”

  Lisa nodded. She wanted to finalize the sale, but this was a big decision for Maureen and Lisa wasn’t about to pressure her. “I already boiled the eggs. They won’t take long to mix up when Joe and I get back.” She looked at her watch. “But I need to review my notes for tomorrow’s final at some point. When are we eating?”

  “You tell me. If you need more time, Gunny’s daughter-in-law will have to fend for herself.”

  Lisa felt a rush of emotion that almost brought tears to her eyes. Maureen’s unfailing support—from babysitting when Lisa needed to study, to “loans” for books and supplies—was one of the reasons Lisa was graduating. She closed the distance between them and hugged her “almost” mother-in-law. “You are a treasure. I’m going to miss you so much.”

  Maureen hugged her back. “Well, I’m not gone, yet. We still have four more weeks together. And way too much to do. The barbecue today, your graduation party…”

  “Maureen, I told you not to bother. It’s almost anti-climactic considering how long it’s taken me to get through college.”

  Joe dashed around the neighbor’s hedge and joined them, flushed and boyishly cute. “Did I hear the word ‘climax’?”

  His mother shook her head and looked skyward as if petitioning God for strength. “No. You did not. You heard Lisa being modest and selfless, but we are ignoring her because when someone we love accomplishes a major milestone, we celebrate. Right?”

  Joe looked at Lisa, his eyes behind his sunglasses unreadable. “Absolutely,” he said without hesitation. “And I’ll film the whole thing.” He lifted the expensive-looking silver-and-black camera he was carrying, removed the protective lens cover and focused on her. “Let’s start now.”

  Lisa put up her hands defensively. “I don’t think so. Maureen, distract him while I run for cover. Good grief, I don’t even have eye makeup on.”

  She could hear mother and son laughing as she ran toward the house. She opened the door that led into the kitchen but paused to remind Maureen, “If your guests are coming early, you’d better call Martin. And my irresponsible son is at his friend’s house. If he gets home before your company arrives, grab him by the ear and put him to work. Okay?”

  Maureen made a dismissing gesture with her hand. “Oh, pooh, he’s just being a boy. You and Patrick were the same way, right, Joseph? Your father could never get you to help out as much as he thought you should.”

  Lisa jerked the door shut and leaned back against it to catch her breath. You and Patrick… All too frequently, Maureen said things like that which made Lisa feel like an absolute fraud. But was it her fault the man she trusted to do the right thing got drunk and drove his car into a canal, leaving her with an unborn child to raise alone?

  She took a deep breath and pushed away from the door. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help matters. Neither did blaming Patrick. She was the only one who could fix this mess, and as far as she could tell, she had two choices: keep silent or tell Joe.

  JOE SAT SIDEWAYS in the Bug’s seat, using his knee against the door to anchor his elbow as he aimed the camera out the window. This wouldn’t be great footage. His digital camcorder was an amazingly versatile workhorse, but shooting from moving vehicles would look amateurish. No matter what.

  He didn’t care. This morning’s outing was more about scouting the landscape as he built the story in his mind. He and Lisa had been driving around for about forty minutes. He was well aware of her time constraints because his mother had pulled him aside after Lisa had gone into the house.

  “Don’t monopolize her time,” Maureen had scolded. “She’s maintained a four-point grade average the whole time she’s been in college. It would break her heart to mess that up now.”

  Thinking about his mother’s words, Joe turned to his driver and said, “Mom said you’re a perfect student. That’s pretty impressive. Are you valedictorian of your class?”

  Lisa laughed—a familiar sound that left him a little blue and wanting something he couldn’t name. “Not even close. Kids today are amazingly bright. The top three students of my graduating class came into college with four-point-six GPAs. I was purely a B student in high school. You were the brain.”

  She glanced at him and added, “My goal was to get an A in every class. Which is partly why it took me so long to finish. Raising a child and working didn’t leave a lot of time for studying, so I never took more than three classes a semester. Sometimes, if I had a particularly tough subject, I might do only one or two.”

  “How many classes do you have this term?”

  “Four, but two were electives and I finished them early. My last two finals are with teachers who don’t pull any punches. One is on testing. The other is the psychology of the young child.”

  “That’s right. Mom said you’d changed your major to education,” he said. The fact that she’d had a dozen or so majors over the years had baffled him since Joe had known from the minute he’d picked up his first still camera what he wanted to do with his life.

  “Yes. My plan is to work on my foreign language skills while Brandon is in college. I thought it might be fun to teach English in a foreign country.”

  Lisa living in a foreign country? The idea held no appeal. He changed the subject. “The air looks particularly crappy today,” he said aiming the camera toward the east. “You can’t even see the mountains.” He panned skyward. “Do people around here still refuse to call this brown haze smog?”

  “Denial. It’s easier to point the finger at agriculture than admit that the car you’re driving a hundred miles a day is the culprit.”

  He’d almost forgotten how bright she was. He used to love to spar with her verbally. Before he could think of something clever to add, she said, “When Brandon and I lived in Turlock, we didn’t even own a car. I rode everywhere on my bike with a child carrier on the back.”

  He turned off the camera. “When did you live in Turlock?”

  She tugged down on the brim of her ball cap. “Um, when Brandon was in preschool. Constance and I had a big fight, and I moved out. For about six months. Being a single mom, working part-time and taking classes while paying for day care was tough. Plus, Brandon really missed his grandparents and they missed him. I agreed to move back on the condition that Mom build a separate suite so we could each have more privacy.”

  Interesting. Joe wondered what had triggered the blowup but decided it wasn’t any of his business.

  She put on her blinker. The green sign said 18th Street, but to locals, the six-block-long road that led straight to Joe’s Place was Main.

  By rising up, his knee folded under him on the seat, Joe could see over the windshield. He put the soft eyepiece to his right eye. The auto-focus gave him his first daylight look at the familiar brick front and kelly-green double doors he’d entered a million times.

  Panning first left, then right, he took in the storefronts he’d frequented as a child. Mallory’s Drug. The Shoe Box. Guy’s Barbershop, where Guy Pendleton held court and exchanged gossip. Guy and Joe’s dad had been best friends until Guy had developed Hodgkin’s lymphoma and died.

  The buildings were the
same, but most of the names had been changed. He turned off the camera and set it on his lap while he reached for the notebook to log the shot. “There are more shops open than I imagined there would be, but hardly any that I remember,” he said, copying the time code before writing in an abbreviated shorthand very few people could interpret, “Mn St. New vers/old serv. Guy’s gone now W lattice arch name Let Us Beautify You.”

  He studied the beauty parlor that had expanded to take over Guy’s. This was where Lisa had first got her ears pierced. Patrick had had football practice that day so Joe had filled in. There, among the sharp smells and girly trappings, he’d held Lisa’s hand in public. He’d shared her fear, her pain and her exhilaration. He’d even picked out the earrings she put in. Tiny gold hearts.

  He looked at her ears. She wasn’t wearing earrings, but, God, she was beautiful. A black ball cap. Hair twisted in place by something that looked like a gold tuning fork. Her oversize sunglasses matched the car—sunshine yellow.

  “I’m glad you left your hair long. It’s still beautiful.”

  She made a snorting sound that he used to hate. Well, at one time, when he was madly in love with her, he’d thought it was cute, but then he went through a period where everything she did pissed him off.

  We’re back to cute, huh? That probably wasn’t a good sign.

  “It’s not mine,” Lisa said, brushing an errant strand off her neck. It immediately dropped back against the collar of her soft-pink shirt.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  She made an offhand gesture. “I’m growing it for Locks of Love, a program that gives human-hair wigs to people who have lost their hair, through burns or chemo or illness. Once this mop reaches the right length—my hairdresser measures it every time I have it trimmed—I’ll cut it off and send it to the group.”

  Joe picked up his camera. He didn’t care how deserving the charity, the thought of her cutting her hair made him slightly ill. He trained the lens on Joe’s Place, which was dead ahead, and pushed the On toggle.