His Real Father (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Salonen, Debra

  She flung her hands wide. “How, Joe? How do you turn it off? What if history repeats itself? What if Brandon—”

  Joe gathered her into his arms and squeezed hard. “That isn’t going to happen. Because Brandon isn’t Patrick.” He isn’t even Patrick’s son, he almost added but didn’t.

  Lisa started weeping, great anguished sobs that nearly broke his heart. He prayed harder than he had in many, many years that his prediction would hold true.

  Her face was pressed to his shoulder and he tenderly stroked her hair. “It’s going to be okay, Leese. Honest.”

  They stayed like that until a shrill whistle alerted him that the water was boiling. He helped her sit at the table and gave her a tissue from a box he found on the counter.

  A few minutes later, they were seated across from each other, two cups of tea in front of them. “Are we going to talk about what happened today?” she asked.

  “No. We’ll probably laugh about it some day—way, way down the road. But for now, I think we should pretend today never happened.”

  Her lips almost smiled, but she picked up the cup and blew into it, instead. “Then why are you here?”

  “To ask you to marry me.”

  The cup wobbled, spilling hot liquid over her fingers.

  Joe pulled Lisa to her feet and led her to the sink where he held her hand under the faucet. “Talk about poor timing,” he said, shaking his head. “Was that the worst proposal in history or what?”

  When she looked at him, tears glistened in her eyes. “Just unexpected. Where did that come from?”

  “The heart.”

  He opened a couple of drawers until he found a clean towel and gently wrapped it around her fingers. “I realize I’m seventeen years late, but I love you, Lisa. I always have. You know that, right?”

  “I’m not sure what I believe, anymore. My brain is a mess. My emotions are even more screwed up.”

  “Then, don’t answer me. Let things settle. We’ll clear the air with Brandon and look at the long-term later. But I’ve made up my mind to stay in Worthington. I want to spend time with Mom, finish my movie and, if Brandon will let me, get to know him better.”

  She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t appear mortified or fearful. Emboldened, he added, “And court you. I might even buy a white charger—or an SUV, whichever impresses you the most.”

  Her smile was tremulous at best, but it gave him hope. And a man could slay dragons if he had hope.

  They returned to the table and drank their tea in silence until the phone rang. Lisa grabbed the receiver.

  “Hello? Brandon?”

  Joe hoped it was the kid, but when she shook her head, he sat back. She listened in silence for a moment then said, “Okay. We’ll be right there.”

  His chest ached from holding his breath.

  “That was your mother. Martin just called. He found Brandon. He’s safe. Drunk, but not behind the wheel, thank God. They’ll be here in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  LISA CHECKED THE CLOCK. Again. Time had decided to crawl while she waited in Maureen’s kitchen. She could hear Joe in the family room on the phone. He’d volunteered to call Jen and Brandon’s friends to let them know Brandon was okay.

  Lisa and Maureen were sitting across from each other at the table, not unlike the way Lisa and Joe had been when he proposed. He proposed. There was an irony here that almost made her laugh out loud. Her mother had called not an hour earlier with the same news.

  “Lisa, you won’t believe what just happened. Jerry proposed to me. On the beach. He gave me a ring and everything. Can you believe it?” Constance had cried, apparently not catching the anguish in Lisa’s voice when she’d answered the phone.

  Lisa had congratulated her and tried to sound up-beat but had obviously fallen short in her effort because Constance had asked, “What’s wrong? Do you think I’m a fool for accepting? With my track record, who am I trying to kid, right?”

  “No, Mom,” Lisa had answered, making herself step back from her own problems. “I’m sorry I sounded so down. I had a fight with Brandon this afternoon and he still isn’t home, but that’ll work out.” I hope. “I’m thrilled for you. Really. Jerry is great and I had a hunch he was the one. When’s the wedding?”

  They’d talked for a few minutes—her mother, still, obviously on cloud nine. Lisa was happy for her mother, she honestly was, but she was worried, too. Would Constance’s past eventually undermine Jerry’s trust?

  “Do you think it’s possible to ever escape our past?” Lisa asked aloud.

  “What do you mean, honey?”

  “Mom called a little while ago. Jerry proposed to her. He wants to get married right away.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Maureen exclaimed. “I’m so happy for her.”

  “Me, too,” Lisa said, “but I’m afraid her past will get in the way of any lasting, happy relationship.”

  “Oh, pooh. That was small-town gossip. Your mother is a good friend and a wonderful nurse. She might have been a little wild when she first moved to town, but people came to understand her once they got to know her.”

  Lisa shook her head. “Maureen, they called her Connie Made ’Em. I used to be embarrassed to go to school because I knew people were talking about her behind my back.”

  Maureen walked to the cupboard. She opened the door and took out an extra cup then walked to the refrigerator and extracted a container of cream. She arranged the two things beside the coffee carafe then looked at Lisa and said, “People talk. It’s human nature, I suppose. I once asked Joe how he stood listening to all the stories people told him, the petty jealousies, the backstabbing.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said it was his job to let his customers get whatever was bothering them off their chests, but he didn’t have to repeat it. And he never did. Not to me, anyway.”

  Lisa smiled. Joe Sr. hadn’t been a saint, but at times he had been wisdom personified. “I miss him,” she said. “He was good to me. A surrogate dad.”

  “I know. And he adored you. And Brandon. Your being here helped make up for losing both his sons.”

  Lisa took a deep breath and lowered her voice, her gaze on the doorway. “Joe asked me to marry him tonight.”

  Maureen dropped the dishrag she was using to wipe the counter and rushed to where Lisa was sitting. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Oh, my word. You and your mother in the same day. How wonderful is that?”

  Lisa swallowed hard. “I haven’t given him an answer.”

  “Oh,” Maureen said softly. “But you love him. I’ve seen it in your eyes. And he’s crazy in love with you.”

  Lisa put her arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “I know. You’re right. But we have this history between us. Patrick. And Brandon. I screwed up once and ruined so many people’s lives….”

  Maureen jerked back and looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “I slept with Joe…when I was going steady with Patrick. Maureen, that’s exactly the kind of thing my mother would have done. It was wrong, and when I found out I was pregnant, I told Patrick the truth. He didn’t seem freaked out at the time, but the closer we got to the wedding, the more he drank. I didn’t blame him. Who would want to marry a woman you couldn’t trust?”

  “Oh, Lisa,” Maureen cried, wrapping her warm, motherly arms around her. “You’ve blamed yourself all these years and I never guessed. Probably because I was doing the same thing. My son killed himself. Not on purpose, I know, but the end result was the same, and it was my fault because I didn’t make him get help.”

  “You’re both wrong.”

  Lisa’s breath stopped. She and Maureen turned to look at Joe, who was standing in the doorway. “You’re taking responsibility for something you had no control over. My brother was an alcoholic. He suffered from a disease that owned his actions. He wasn’t able to deal with his addiction and it killed him.

  “When I was making Dead Drunk, I talked to a lot of people who’d lost
a loved one to drunk driving. Believe me, there’s never a shortage of guilt to go around after this kind of accident. But the only person who had an option that night was Patrick. He chose to get behind the wheel, knowing he’d had too much to drink. Because to admit that he was incapacitated was unthinkable, it was un-Patrick.”

  Lisa felt an odd release. Almost as if Patrick had chucked her under the chin and said, “Told ya.” Maureen made a protesting sound, but Joe wasn’t done. He took his mother’s hand and led her to a chair.

  “Mom,” he said, kneeling beside her. “I loved my brother, but he wasn’t a saint. He wasn’t even a good brother at times, but he was human. And that’s okay. What happened isn’t anybody’s fault and I’m tired of beating myself up over it. Patrick wouldn’t have wanted that.”

  Joe gave Lisa a wink he knew she’d understand. “Well, he might have liked the attention. For a few years. But, now, it’s time to move on.”

  He took a breath and let it out. Lisa had a feeling he was about to repeat his proposal for his mother’s benefit, but the sound of a car pulling up stopped him. He looked at Lisa and got up. “Team effort? Or do you want to talk to him alone first?”

  Lisa hesitated for a heartbeat then she put out her hand. “The two of us, I think.”

  Joe told himself not to read more into her gesture than she’d intended, but he couldn’t prevent his heart rate from escalating. He squeezed her fingers supportively and led the way to the door.

  They paused on the stoop as Brandon’s car pulled into the driveway with Martin behind the wheel. No passenger was visible. Lisa looked at Joe questioningly, but he had no answer.

  As they walked to the car, Joe was vaguely conscious of the background noises, dogs barking, cars honking, a distant train whistle—stuff he would have thought too clichéd to be used in one of his movies. The temperature had dropped at least fifteen degrees from the afternoon but his inner turmoil made him impervious.

  The door opened and Martin got out. Even before Joe could frame the question, Martin pointed to the back seat.

  Joe and Lisa stepped closer. Brandon was sprawled face down, one arm on the floor. His mouth was open and a puddle of drool darkened the wine-colored upholstery.

  “He isn’t wearing a seat belt,” Joe said, realizing the moment he said it that he sounded like a fool. Or a father.

  Martin let out a raspy guffaw.

  Joe was glad it was too dark for either Martin or Lisa to see him blush. He let go of Lisa’s hand to shake Martin’s. “I don’t know how you pulled this off, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  Martin looked from Joe to Lisa and said, “My cousin works for the irrigation district. They’ve been having trouble with teenagers partying at a couple of the lakes around here. When he spotted some boys drinking, he called me.”

  “Why you?” Lisa asked. She made no move to open the door.

  “He recognized Brandon’s car.”

  Joe looked at the unremarkable sedan. “How?”

  Martin didn’t look as though he was going to answer, but then he said, “Your mother used to drive this car.”

  The import of that statement hit Joe squarely. He loves her. All these years. He’s always loved her.

  Sadness hit Joe. He knew Martin well enough to guess that the other man had never made his feelings known while Joe’s father was alive. He was too honorable. And after Joe had passed away, he’d probably wanted to give Maureen time to heal. Then Gunny had stepped in.

  But he felt joy, too. Because he knew something Martin didn’t.

  “You think you waited too long to declare your feelings, don’t you, my friend?”

  Martin made a snarling sound and glanced toward Lisa, who looked at Joe, curiously.

  Joe went on. “While you were being considerate of Mom’s feelings, letting her grieve for her husband, Gunny elbowed in and beat you to the punch. Right?”

  Martin straightened proudly. “Maureen has chosen another. I want her to be happy.”

  Joe wondered if the real reason behind his mother’s sudden change of heart was connected to her feelings for this man. He’d sensed something between them when he’d first come home, but then he’d pushed the idea out of his mind because he’d been too wrapped up in his own problems.

  “Actually, Martin, she’s ‘un-chosen’ him,” Joe said, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. “She called off the wedding a few hours ago.”

  Martin didn’t appear to believe him. “What? Why?”

  Joe nodded toward the car. “Ask him. Apparently, Brandon helped her make up her mind. Or you could just ask Mom. She’s in the kitchen.”

  Joe felt an odd tremor pass through his friend. Hope, perhaps? The possibility of being given a second chance to be with the woman he loved? Joe was still praying there was a little more of that going around.

  Martin looked at Lisa and said, “He isn’t that drunk. Mostly confused and upset. He told me about finding you together.”

  “We didn’t plan this, but…”

  “’Bout time, I’d say,” Martin muttered softly. “You two have had a thing for each other ever since you were too young to even think about sex. Are you going to do something about it this time?”

  Joe looked at Lisa. “Are we?”

  When she didn’t answer right away, Martin walked to her side and said softly, “You can’t say he never asked.”

  With a deep sigh, he stepped back and added, “I’ll leave you two alone to figure it out. I need to talk to Maureen. I made enough mistakes in my life without letting opportunity pass me by a second time.”

  Opportunity. Mistakes. Joe knew all about those.

  “What are we going to do, Joe?” Her long, pale lashes blinked rapidly to keep back tears. Such a tender heart. He’d wounded it in the past, but she was too strong to let a few battle scars keep her from living. She was as courageous as any warrior.

  He looked at the sleeping boy then checked to make sure Martin had taken the keys out of the car. Decision made, he took her hand and started leading her toward the house. “Five minutes. Just give me five minutes to prove that you and I belong together. Brandon’s safe. Mom can keep on eye an him through the kitchen window. This is between us, only. Okay?”

  She looked skeptical and didn’t seem anxious to leave her son passed out in the car, but in the end, she followed him into his makeshift editing studio.

  He pulled over a spare chair so they were shoulder to shoulder in front of his extra-wide laptop, which displayed a split screen. “I was working on this while you were making calls and pacing,” he told her.

  He clicked on a file. A moment later, an image appeared on the full-size television monitor to her left. “This is raw. Completely unedited. And after you’ve seen it, I’m going to delete this file and destroy the original.”

  Lisa looked at him questioningly. “Why?”

  “Because we might never know who Brandon’s biological father is. He has a certain image of Patrick, and I don’t want to ruin that for him. What’s here doesn’t affect him, it’s only important to you and me.”

  He hit the play button.

  The image of a laughing young girl came on the screen. The color was washed out, the picture grainy, but there was no mistaking Lisa at age seventeen.

  “The lake,” Lisa said, as the scope of the shot opened up to include water, a dock and a group of young people standing around in swimsuits. Several other girls, including Jen Jensen, had their towels wrapped around their hips. Lisa was wearing a two-piece suit. The bottom half was a skimpy swath of navy blue, the top a stylized version of the American flag.

  “How patriotic of me,” she murmured, blushing.

  The voice of a narrator, Joe, came through the speakers. “Here we are. Worthington High’s most illustrious students playing hooky. Kinda makes you fear for the future, doesn’t it?”

  Joe thought he sounded very young. “Watch closely and you will see the one bright spot in this group of less-than-illustrious st
ars. A supernova in a galactic vacuum.”

  Joe felt a blush of his own. “Dreadful commentary, I know. But, hey, I was a dumb ass who thought I was brilliant.”

  “I always thought you were brilliant, too,” Lisa said softly.

  He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but the pain in her eyes was too intense to take for long—like watching an eclipse with ordinary sunglasses. He returned to the screen.

  “This, good viewer, is our resident goddess.” The camera zeroed in on Lisa. Her long blond hair—streaked from a summer in the sun. She walked a bit pigeon-toed in oversize rubber thongs that she’d borrowed from someone. She crossed the dock to where Patrick was sitting with his legs dangling above the water. He wore wraparound sunglasses and held a beer bottle.

  She paused as if sensing Joe’s attention and looked straight at the camera. She smiled and lifted her right hand to wave. Her left arm hung loosely at her side, which was closest to Joe’s brother. Her boyfriend.

  What happened next took place so fast, Joe knew Lisa missed the actual cause, but she saw the effect because she gave a little gasp of surprise. One second a happy, smiling Lisa was standing there waving, the next she was in the water, spitting and sputtering.

  “Watch closely,” he said, dragging the mouse to rewind the action. He adjusted the speed and replayed the scene.

  This time, Patrick’s role in her fall became apparent. He’d grabbed her hand and yanked downward. She’d had nowhere to go but into the water.

  “It wasn’t until I watched at this speed that I realized how close you came to dying,” he told her.

  Lisa leaned closer to the monitor. “I fell into the water. It’s not like I was going to drown.”

  Joe turned to face her. “Watch again. Look where your head is.”

  Her fingers were linked tight. Joe watched her face as she stared at the screen. He knew the moment she saw what he meant. When Patrick had pulled on her arm, she’d been completely unprepared. Her body had snapped like a Raggedy Ann doll. When she’d gone over the edge of the dock, the back of her head had come within inches of a metal cleat that people used to tie up their boats.