His Real Father (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Salonen, Debra

  The look on Joe’s face said he didn’t believe her. “I still have my calendar from that year,” she said. “You know me—an inveterate packrat. I dug it out when your mother let slip about Patrick’s mumps.

  “I used to put a diagonal hatch mark through the days when Patrick and I were together, euphemistically speaking.”

  “And…” Joe prompted.

  “And there weren’t that many marks in May or June.”

  Joe shook his head. “I remember seeing you together all the time. You made out a lot.”

  “Patrick was very affectionate, especially if he thought someone was watching. But from the last week of school till the first of July, there were only four times that could have produced a baby. Four to one, Joe. That’s your odds.”

  He put out his hands. “How was I to know that? Pat was always talking about your wild nights together. He told me you’d do anything he asked. Anywhere, any time.”

  Humiliation warred with anger. “That bastard. Why do men boast about conquests that never took place?”

  “Not all men kiss and tell, Lisa. I used to beg Patrick to keep that aspect of your relationship to himself. I don’t know why it was so important to him for me know—or at least think—that you were screwing every night of the week.”

  “I know why.”

  His brows lifted in the exact same way Brandon’s did.

  “He was jealous of you.”

  “Bullshit. Pat was a star athlete. Homecoming king. Everybody loved him.”

  She shook her head. “No. You loved him. In fact, you worshipped him, which is why he took advantage of you.”

  “That’s crap,” Joe said shooting to his feet.

  “And it drove him crazy that no matter what he did, you still came out on top.”

  Lisa scrambled to her knees. Fueled by pent-up anger, she said, “You were the one who got a scholarship to a prestigious art school, while Patrick started driving trucks. He told everyone that was because you were an egghead and he couldn’t stand being cooped up in some stupid classroom. But we all knew the real reason. Patrick wouldn’t have passed any of his classes without you doing his homework.”

  Joe’s blush told her she’d scored a hit.

  “Pat was a little slow in school, but he more than made up for it on the playing field. He was brilliant,” Joe said defensively.

  “He was a bully. He made a great quarterback because everybody on the team knew that if they screwed up, they’d become the butt of one of Pat Kelly’s nasty jokes.”

  Joe ran a hand through his still damp hair. “None of that really pertains to the matter at hand, does it?”

  “Of course, it does. Your brother lied to us, Joe. You believed him because he was your brother, your twin. And you couldn’t in a million years conceive of him doing something that despicable.”

  She pointed to her chest. “I bought his lie because, face it, he was staying. You were leaving. He offered. You never did. He told me he l-loved me.” She hated that her voice betrayed her. “And I promised to love him back, but apparently a wife and kid on the way weren’t enough to keep him sober.”

  Joe made a move as if to reach for her, but Lisa pulled back, curling her arms around her knees defensively. “I tried to do the right thing. I tried to be a good mother, to keep Brandon connected to your family. But I’m tired of putting everyone else’s needs first. After I send my son to college, I’m selling the bar and getting the hell out of Worthington. For good.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Tough. You’re a stranger who’s just passing through. You don’t know me. Or my son. And, frankly, I think it’s too late to try to pick up the pieces of a life you never wanted to live.”

  “I’m not a stranger. I know the person that you were,” he insisted. “At one time, we were best friends. You told me all your secrets.”

  Lisa felt a tingle of apprehension. “Maybe. A long time ago. But that girl had little dreams. She was easily satisfied, but not me. I—”

  “Used to sketch house designs inside the back of your binder. Whole floor plans with elaborate gardens.” He took a step closer. “That’s where I got the idea for my koi pond. From something you once drew.” He pinned her in one spot with the intensity of his look. “You talked about planting roots. You said you wanted to travel, but only if you had a place to come home to.”

  She shivered as if he’d reached a hand into her psyche and pulled out her deepest secret.

  “I don’t remember telling you any of that.”

  His smile told her he recognized the lie. “I do. I can even tell you where and when you said it. One Saturday. We were juniors, I think. Patrick was being an ass and your mother had done something to upset you. So you packed a bag and walked to the bus depot. Where I found you.”

  “I was going to move to Indiana and live with my dad,” she said softly. She remembered feeling humiliated to discover that the forty dollars in her pocket wouldn’t get her even halfway there. She’d used the pay phone to call her father collect, and once again he’d let her down.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” he’d said. “But now isn’t a good time. Your sister has been pretty sick, lately. The doctors want to perform surgery to fix the hole in her heart.”

  Lisa had screamed something rude about the hole in his head and crumpled to the ground weeping. That was where Joe had found her.

  He’d made her get in his car and they’d driven to the park where he’d held her and listened to her rant. Eventually, they got around to talking about their dreams. Joe’s was film school. Hers was to have a real home, a real family. He hadn’t teased her or called the idea sappy, as his brother would have. And she’d rewarded him with a kiss. A comforting, friendly kiss that had ended when some friends in another car drove past and honked the horn.

  “I was a kid. I was…the same age as Brandon.”

  He nodded. “I know. I was just thinking about how long we’ve known each other…and how seldom we were honest with each other. Don’t you think it’s time we started?”

  When he took a step closer, she put out her hand to stop him. “Joe, our lives are too complicated. If you want to tell Brandon what happened between us, I can’t stop you, but he’s been through a lot the past couple of years. I don’t know if now is the right time.”

  “Is that the mother in you talking or the coward?”

  She clenched her fist. “Is that the judgmental ass-hole in you talking or just your usual big-headed self?”

  Joe burst out laughing. “Oh, God, I’ve missed you, Leese.” Hand to his heart, he tapped his chest. “Brutal honesty. That’s a rare commodity in my world.”

  Lisa refused to be swayed by his dimple. “Oh, cut the crap, Joe. You’re just as freaked out as I am. You always try to spin a situation with humor, but that isn’t going to wash this time. Your brother lied, damn him. He lied on purpose. Why? I don’t know, but he clearly had his own agenda. If you can forgive him for that, then you’re a more generous person than I am, because, frankly, I’m furious.

  “And I’m also worried as hell what this revelation will do to my son when he finds out.”

  “Finds out what?”

  At the sound of Brandon’s voice, Lisa turned so fast she bumped into Joe, who swept her into his arms and said after just the briefest hesitation, “Your mom and I are getting back together.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  BRANDON WASN’T SURE what to make of his mother and his uncle goofing around. “How could you get back together when you never were together in the first place?” he asked.

  “Joe was kidding, Brandon. You know what a joker he is. We were talking about…about what to give Maureen and Gunny for a wedding gift.”

  Brandon didn’t believe that for a minute. Something was up. Something his mother didn’t want him to know about. And Brandon was pretty sure whatever it was included Joe.

  “Okay,” Joe said with a careless shrug. “Maybe that was wishful thinking on my part. But speaking of gifts,
what do you think about the three of us posing for a family portrait to give your grandmother?”

  His mother didn’t answer right away so Brandon said, “Won’t there be a photographer at the wedding?”

  “Brandon’s right, Joe. And we have so much to do in the next two weeks I don’t know when we’d squeeze in a formal sitting, but we can definitely add that to our list of things to do at or immediately after the wedding.”

  “As long as you put it on the agenda,” Joe said.

  Something in his tone sounded serious, real serious. Brandon looked at his mother who answered just as solemnly, “Just so long as we don’t lose focus on your mother’s big day. This is all about making her happy, remember?”

  The two were like tennis players rallying, and Brandon wondered what they were really talking about.

  “She won’t be happy if we’re not,” Joe said.

  “Well, she’s not going to be happy when she finds out the band we planned to hire canceled.”

  Brandon lifted his hand. “Um, Mom,” he said, waggling the portable phone he was holding. “Martin says Bob the contractor is at the bar. He wants to know if—”

  His mother grabbed the receiver. “Oh, no. I have to go. How did it get so late?”

  She looked at Joe as though he’d somehow screwed with the clocks then took off running barely sputtering, “’Bye, honey. I’ll call you later.” Oddly, that made Brandon breathe a little easier. Surely a person who was in love with another person didn’t just run off without a kiss or something.

  Brandon turned to his uncle and found Joe staring at him as if he’d never seen him before. Suddenly uncomfortable, Brandon asked, “Are you filming today?”

  “No. Doctor’s orders.” Joe reached up and massaged his shoulder as if he’d just remembered that he’d injured it. “She told me to rest up at least twenty-four hours.”

  “Oh.” Brandon tried to hide his disappointment, but apparently some of it showed because Joe said, “That doesn’t mean we can’t review footage and start cleaning up some of the shots we already have. Do you want to help?”

  Brandon nearly did a back flip. He couldn’t explain how right it felt to be involved in Joe’s movie. He loved the feeling of the camera in his hand and looking through the viewfinder. “What would I do?”

  Joe scratched his head. “I don’t know exactly. We’ll have to see what comes.”

  Brandon hesitated. He had yard work to do for his mother and he’d promised to meet Rory and Winston at the skate park. If he didn’t show up, they’d think he was a loser. “I have to mow the lawn this morning. But maybe I’ll come over later.”

  Brandon walked him as far as the gate. He wanted to ask about Joe’s feelings for his mother, but he didn’t want to sound like some kind of nosy jerk. “Um, you were just kidding back there, right?” Brandon said, indicating his mother’s private garden. “You and Mom aren’t really…”

  Joe put his hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “Lisa was my first love, but I was too shy to ask her out.”

  “So my dad did.”

  “Exactly. But that doesn’t mean I stopped…um, caring for her.”

  Brandon couldn’t tell if that meant he loved her or not. He hoped not. Joe was an okay guy, but his mom was…well, his mom.

  “OKAY, HONEY, HAVE FUN,” Lisa said, hanging up the phone behind the bar. Have fun. Have fun helping your uncle, or should I say, your father?

  Lisa let out a little cry and pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d been at Joe’s Place for nearly an hour, but the whole time she’d wanted to turn around and hash things out with Joe.

  According to Brandon, Joe had decided to spend the day editing his movie, and he’d invited Brandon to help. Whether this was a good thing or some insidious plot to get close to her son, Lisa didn’t know.

  Your mother and I are getting back together. The words echoed in Lisa’s head like the jingle from an annoying commercial. The man is insane, Lisa thought, her teeth grinding in frustration. And what the heck was that about a family photo?

  She was pretty sure the underlying text of their dialogue meant Joe agreed with her to put off telling Brandon the news until after the wedding. But who really knew what Joe was thinking? The man was a loose cannon. At times, he made Patrick look like the sane one.

  “You okay, Lisa?” a voice asked.

  She opened her eyes and dropped her hand. Martin was standing across the bar from her, a bundle of mail in hand. “Oh, sure, just thinking about all that I need to do.”

  “I thought Joe was going to film every step?”

  She reached for the bag of disposable gloves she’d bought to protect her hands when she started stripping the varnish off the bar. “Well, I doubt if this would make or break his movie,” she said with a wink.

  “Where’s Brandon? Isn’t he supposed to be helping you?”

  “That was Brandon on the phone,” she said, nodding over her shoulder. “Joe invited him to work on editing.”

  “The boy was all over that camera yesterday,” Martin said. “Something he gets from his father, maybe?”

  Lisa looked up. She knew that Martin and Joe had talked about the situation, but she wasn’t ready to discuss this matter with her friend. “I don’t know. I’m just happy to see him showing some interest in something. For a while there, I was afraid he was going to turn into one of those kids who hates everything.”

  She started to walk away but stopped when the phone rang. She picked it up. A telemarketer hoping to sell her a time-share in Hawaii. As she replaced the receiver, she remembered her first call of the morning and the fact that she still needed a band to play at Maureen’s wedding.

  “Damn,” she muttered. “Hey, Martin, you don’t happen to know any bands, do you? At this point, we’d probably be lucky to find a really bad DJ.”

  Martin looked bemused by her quantum leap in topic but said, “Yes, actually, my nephew plays in a band.”

  “What? Have you been holding out on me? I need names, numbers. Now.”

  His left eyebrow rose.

  Lisa laughed and touched his arm. “Sorry. I’ve had a crazy morning. This feels like a sign that maybe everything will work out okay.” She knew that didn’t make any sense, but Lisa needed something to go right for a change.

  Martin set down the mail to write a number on the back of a napkin. He handed it to her. “The band plays salsa music. That might not be what you’re looking for, but they’re very good. I have their CD if you’d like to listen to it.”

  Lisa frowned. “If they’re good, they’re probably booked.”

  He shook his head. “Carlos’s wife just had a baby. He took a month off from touring, but he told me the other day that he’d like to pick up a couple of local gigs.”

  Lisa pressed the paper to her chest. “You are a life-saver, my friend. I love you.”

  “Hello,” a cheery voice called from the back of the building. A moment later, the swinging doors of the kitchen pushed outward and Maureen walked in.

  Lisa was close enough to Martin to see him visibly tense. She looked at Maureen, who was dressed in white slacks, a navy-and-white striped top and a red blazer. The moment Maureen spotted Martin, her step faltered. Curious, Lisa thought.

  “Gunny’s waiting in the car,” Maureen said, walking around the outside of the bar, “but I couldn’t remember if Saturday’s take got deposited.”

  “Of course it did,” Martin said testily. “Don’t you trust me?”

  Lisa gaped. She’d never heard him speak so coldly to his employer, his friend. Lisa looked at Maureen.

  “You know I do, but with everything that’s been going on I thought it might have been overlooked.” Maureen gave a small, halfhearted smile.

  Martin crossed his arms. “Or maybe, you thought I took the entire seven hundred and forty-one dollars to Table Mountain and lost it at the craps table.”

  Lisa nearly swallowed the breath mint she’d just put in her mouth. She knew Martin never gambled at the nearby casin
o. He’d said many times that money was too hard to come by to risk on a game of chance.

  Maureen looked at the ceiling and heaved a great sigh. Then she turned on one heel and marched away.

  Neither Lisa nor Martin spoke for a good minute, then Lisa said, “Well, I don’t know what that was about, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t involve gambling.”

  Martin picked up the mail that he’d set on the bar next to the jar of maraschino cherries. “Not the kind you mean, anyway.”

  After sorting the bills from the flyers, he walked to the office and left a minute later. Lisa thought about calling Maureen to find out what was going on between her and Martin, but instead she called the number Martin had given her. She figured some days you were better off picking music over drama.

  NINE DAYS HAD PASSED since Joe’s conk on the head and shoulder. He’d avoided climbing any more ladders and he hadn’t picked up any power tools just in case Lisa was right when she’d called him a klutz. But when he wasn’t busy working with his students—and Brandon—he’d found other ways to contribute to the remodeling effort that didn’t involve electricity or leaving the ground. Like washing windows.

  The exercise had increased the mobility in his sore shoulder, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the work. “I hate this job,” he muttered, applying a spray cleaner to a section of plate glass.

  “Whiner.”

  Lisa’s tone held a teasing quality he’d missed hearing since their big confrontation. For the most part, she gave him a wide berth, but today she was tackling the window to Joe’s left.

  She and Brandon had removed the large neon signs from both windows the day before when Joe’s film crew was present. Joe had been surprised by what a difference that small change made to the place. The main barroom, already made lighter and brighter thanks to the clean walls and new skylights, seemed fresher and more welcoming.

  Was Joe comfortable with the change? He wasn’t sure, but, at least, Lisa seemed happy with the progress they’d made—renovation-wise. She also seemed content to avoid talking about their relationship.

  Joe wasn’t sure that was a good thing, either. But after blurting out that he wanted to get back together with her and having Lisa shoot that suggestion out of the air with a very annoyed “He’s kidding,” Joe was reluctant to broach the subject.