Family Affair

by Debbie Macomber

  “I am?” If he felt that way, he should pay her accordingly. There would never be a better time to point this out.

  “Of course you are,” he snapped. “Whenever customers are interested in wallpaper I refer them to you.”

  “How nice,” Lacey said.

  He was making this almost easy for her. To her surprise, she wasn’t the least bit nervous.

  “How long have I worked for you now, Mr. Sullivan?”

  “Ah . . .” He picked up a pencil and figured some numbers on a pad as if her question required several algebraic calculations. “It must be a year or more.”

  “Exactly a year. Do you recall that when you hired me we made an agreement?”

  “Yes, of course.” He stiffened as if he knew what was coming.

  “There was to be a salary evaluation after six months and another at one year. The months have slipped by, and I’ve taken on a good deal of the responsibility of running the business for you, and now you tell me I’m your wallpaper expert! I can assure you no expert makes the low wages I do. I believe, Mr. Sullivan, that you owe me a substantial raise, possibly two.” Having said all this in one giant breath, she was winded when she finished.

  She’d done it! After all the weeks of moaning and groaning, of complaining and berating herself, she’d actually asked for the raise she deserved. It hadn’t even been hard! She watched her employer and waited for his response.

  “I owe you a raise?” Mr. Sullivan sounded shocked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I’ll have to check my records. You might very well be right. I’ll look into it and get back to you first thing in the morning.” Having said that, Mr. Sullivan promptly disappeared—something he was doing more frequently of late, leaving her with the burden of dealing with everything herself.

  Lacey felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was as if whatever had bound her had fallen away.

  The first person she sought out that afternoon was Jack. She went directly from the elevator to his apartment, knocking several times, eager to share her news. To her disappointment, he wasn’t home. She realized how important he’d become to her. It was as if none of this were real until she’d shared it with her neighbor.

  Letting herself inside her own apartment, she promptly greeted Cleo and then reached for the phone. Jeanne answered on the second ring.

  “I asked Mr. Sullivan for a raise,” she said without so much as a hello. “Jeanne, I’m so happy, I could cry. It just happened. He made some offhand comment about me being his wallpaper expert, and I said if that was the case I should be properly compensated.”

  “That’s great, and about time too, girl. Congratulations!”

  Lacey knew Jeanne would be pleased for her, if for nothing more than garnering the courage to ask.

  “I owe you so much,” Lacey said, the emotion bubbling in her voice. “I really do. Not long ago you claimed if I wanted to be a victim, you couldn’t help me, and I realized you were right. And Jack too, he’s been—” She stopped, thinking how much Jack had helped her. Not in the same way as Jeanne, but by his own gentle understanding, he’d encouraged her and helped her to find herself. She understood for the first time how confronting Mr. Sullivan was tied in with her divorce. She’d come out of her marriage emotionally crippled, carrying a load of grief and insecurity that had burdened her whole life.

  “You haven’t mentioned Jack much lately,” Jeanne commented. “How’s it going with you two?”

  “I haven’t talked about Jack?” Lacey hedged. “It’s going fine, just fine.”

  “Fine suggests it’s going great.”

  Cleo wove her way around Lacey’s feet, demanding attention. With the tip of her shoe, Lacey booted the catnip toy as a distraction. Cleo raced after it.

  “Now,” Jeanne said, heaving a giant breath, “tell me how much of a raise Mr. Sullivan’s giving you.”

  “He didn’t say . . . exactly. All he said was that he was going to think about it overnight.”

  “Don’t let him weasel out of it,” Jeanne warned.

  “Don’t worry,” Lacey said. “He wouldn’t dare.” At the moment she felt invincible, capable of dealing with anything or anyone.

  As soon as she was off the phone, Lacey gave Cleo the attention she demanded. “How are you doing, girl?” Lacey asked. “I bet you’re anxious to have those kittens.” She stroked her back and Cleo purred contentedly. “Jack and I will find good homes for your babies,” Lacey assured her. “You don’t have a thing to worry about.”

  Jack didn’t get home until after six. The minute she heard movement on the other side of her kitchen wall, she hurried over to his apartment. She tapped out a staccato knock against his door and was cheered to hear him humming on the other side.

  “Who is it?” he called out.

  “Lacey.”

  The door flew open. The minute he appeared, she vaulted into his arms, spreading kisses over his face. He blinked as if he wasn’t sure what was happening.

  “Lacey?” His eyes were wide with surprise and delight. “What was that for?”

  “A thank-you.” She wove her arms around his neck and kissed him again. “I’m so happy.”

  “My guess is something happened after we met at lunch.”

  She rewarded his genius, taking more time, savoring the kiss. With every beat of her heart, she thanked God for sending Jack into her lonely, bleak life.

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what this is all about. Whatever it is, don’t let me stop you.” He closed the door with his foot and carried her into the living room.

  She hugged him tight. His shirt was unfastened. Either he was dressing or undressing, she couldn’t tell which. Her trembling body moved against his.

  “Are you going to tell me what we’re celebrating?” he asked her breathlessly.

  “A raise,” she said. “And long overdue. You see, I had to ask for it, and doing that was a growing experience for me.” She paused to rub her nose against his. “I realize this probably sounds silly, but I couldn’t make myself ask, and it got to be this really big thing, like a monster, and then I was terrified.”

  “But you did it?”

  “Yes. I owe it all to you—and to my friend Jeanne. Knowing you has helped me so much, Jack. You’ve given me my confidence back. I’m not sure how you managed it, but since we’ve been . . . neighborly, it seems everything’s turned around for me.”

  “I couldn’t be more pleased, and naturally I’ll accept the credit,” he said warmly.

  “Mr. Sullivan’s going to think about it overnight, but you see this isn’t about the money. It’s about me.”

  “You certainly didn’t have any problem confronting me when Dog stole Cleo’s virginity. As I recall you were ready with a tidy list of demands.”

  “That was different. I wasn’t the one affected, it was Cleo. I didn’t have the least bit of trouble sticking up for my cat.”

  “I’d like to complain, but I won’t,” Jack said. “I’m more than pleased that Dog decided to call upon Cleo; otherwise I don’t know how long it would have taken me to break through those barriers of yours.”

  He kissed her then, slowly, thoroughly, leaving her trembling when he’d finished.

  “We’ll celebrate. Dinner, dancing, a night on the town. We’ll—” He stopped abruptly and closed his eyes.

  “What?”

  “I’ve got another one of those stupid dinner meetings this evening.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She was disappointed, but she understood. “This is rather short notice. We’ll celebrate another time. It doesn’t matter, truly it doesn’t.” Nothing could mar her happiness. “How soon do you have to leave?”

  He glanced at his watch and frowned. “Ten minutes.”

  “I’d better go.”

&
nbsp; “No.” He kissed her hungrily.

  “Jack”—she managed a protest, weak at best—“you’ll be late for your dinner.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Jack!”

  He kissed her nose. “Spoilsport. Remember, we’re on for dinner on the town tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  Lacey returned to her apartment in a daze. When she slumped onto the sofa, Cleo settled in her lap, and she slowly stroked the cat’s back, thinking over her day. Lacey wasn’t sure how long she sat there before someone knocked on her door. Checking the peephole, Lacey was shocked to see who it was.

  “Sarah!” she said, unlocking her door.

  Jack’s sister took one look at her and burst into tears. “Oh, Lacey, I’ve been such a fool!”

  Eight

  “Sarah, what happened?” Lacey led Jack’s sister into her apartment. Sarah slumped onto the love seat and covered her face with both hands. Several seconds passed before she was able to speak.

  “I . . . found out Mark’s involved with someone else. I found them together, in our bed. I thought I was going to be sick . . . I couldn’t believe my own eyes. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “Oh, Sarah!” Lacey wrapped her arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Jack told me Mark was seeing someone else, but I didn’t believe him. I loved Mark . . . I really loved him. How could I have been so stupid?” She buried her face in Lacey’s shoulder.

  The experience was nearly a mirror image of her own, so Lacey could appreciate the devastating sense of betrayal Sarah was feeling.

  “I know what you’re going through,” Lacey said when Sarah’s sobbing had slowed. She brought her a hot cup of tea with plenty of sugar to help ward off the shock.

  “How could you?” Sarah said. She looked up at Lacey, her face devoid of makeup, her eyes filled with a hollow, familiar pain. The afghan Lacey’s mother had crocheted for a Christmas present was wrapped over the younger woman’s shoulders as if she’d been chilled to the bone. Sarah looked as if she were six years old.

  “It’s like your whole world has been violently turned upside down. But it’s much more than that. The sense of betrayal is the worst emotional pain there is.”

  “You too?”

  Lacey nodded. “My husband—ex-husband, now—left me for another woman. Apparently they’d been lovers for months, but I didn’t have a clue. When Peter asked for a divorce, I thought I’d die.” Memories of that final confrontation filtered through Lacey’s mind. She found, somewhat to her surprise, that although they saddened her, she didn’t feel the crushing agony that had been with her for the last year and a half.

  “What . . . what did you do afterward?”

  Lacey reached for Sarah’s hand and squeezed her fingers. “After the divorce was final, I packed everything I owned and moved to San Francisco.”

  “Then it must not have been very long ago.”

  “The divorce was final last year about this time.”

  Sarah sipped her tea. “I was blind to what was happening. I trusted Mark, really trusted him. I nearly allowed him to destroy my love for my brother.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “But I do!” Sarah cried. “Looking back, I can’t believe I sided against Jack. He’s never lied to me, and yet I believed everything Mark was telling me about my brother being jealous and all that other garbage.”

  “I believed too,” Lacey said, “but when you love someone, the trust is automatic. Why should we suspect a man of cheating when such behavior would never occur to us? The very thought of being unfaithful to Peter was repugnant to me.”

  Sarah cradled the mug between her palms. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to trust a man again?”

  “Yes,” Lacey answered, after some length, “but not in the same blind way. I couldn’t bear to live my life being constantly suspicious. The burden of that would ruin any future relationships. I’m not the same woman I was eighteen months ago. Peter’s betrayal has marked me forever.” She hesitated, unsure of how much she should admit about the changes knowing Jack had brought into her life. “It wasn’t until recently that I felt I could say this, but I believe it changed me for the better.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “It was a long, painful ordeal. Only in the last month have I come to terms with what happened. For a long time I thought I hated Peter, but that wasn’t true. How could I hate him when I’d never stopped loving him?”

  “What do you feel for him now?”

  Lacey had to think over the question. “Mostly I don’t feel anything. I’ve forgiven him.”

  “You? He should be the one to beg your forgiveness.”

  Lacey smiled, knowing Peter as she did. “I could wait until hell freezes over, and that would never happen. Peter believes I was the one who failed him, and perhaps I did in some way. He needed an excuse to rationalize what he was doing.”

  “Mark blamed me too. How could you forgive Peter? I don’t understand.”

  “You’d be right to say he didn’t ask for my forgiveness. But I didn’t do it for him, I did it for me. Otherwise his betrayal would have destroyed me.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “In the beginning,” Lacey said, “I couldn’t deal with the pain so I pretended I wasn’t hurt. But in the last month, I’ve realized that I needed to let go of Peter and the failed marriage, and the only way to do it was to admit my own faults and forgive him. If I didn’t, I might never have let go of my bitterness.”

  Fresh tears brimmed in Sarah’s eyes. “I’ll never be as wise as you are.”

  Lacey laughed. “Oh, Sarah, if only you knew how very long it took me to reconcile myself to this divorce. I have Jack to thank, and my friend Jeanne. Even Cleo played a role.”

  “Jack’s wonderful,” Sarah admitted and bit her lower lip. “I’ve treated him abominably.”

  “That’s one thing about brothers, they’re forgiving. At least we can trust that Jack is. He’s a special man, Sarah, and I can’t believe you’ll have any more problems setting matters straight with him.”

  They sat and talked, and as the hours passed Lacey realized how much they had in common. It was nearly ten o’clock when the doorbell chimed. The two women looked at each other.

  “You don’t need to worry. I’m sure it’s not Mark.”

  Lacey checked the peephole anyway. It was Jack. Unlatching the chain, she opened the door and was immediately brought into his arms. He kissed her as if it had been weeks instead of hours since they’d last seen each other.

  “Jack.” Sarah’s voice cut into the sensual fog that surrounded Lacey.

  Jack abruptly broke off the kiss but kept his arm around Lacey’s waist. She watched his face as he discovered his sister sitting on the sofa, wrapped in Lacey’s afghan. His gaze went from Sarah to Lacey and then back again.

  “Sit down,” Lacey said, easing her way out of his embrace. “Sarah has something to tell you.” Then, because she knew how difficult it would be, she leaned close and whispered, “Be gentle with her.”

  “Lacey,” Jack said irritably, “don’t lift that, it’s too heavy for you.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, hauling the carton out of the back of the rented van. It was heavy, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Sarah had found an apartment of her own, and Jack and Lacey were helping her move. It had been an eventful month. Sarah had temporarily moved in with Lacey and the two women had talked, often long into the night.

  “That should do it,” Sarah said, as Lacey set the carton on the kitchen countertop. She looked past Lacey and whispered, “What’s wrong with Jack? He’s been a real crab all morning, and he wasn’t much better last night, either. Did you notice?”

  Lacey had, but she hadn’t
wanted to say anything. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” But something was.

  “If anyone can get it out of him, it’s you.”

  Lacey wondered if that was true. After the last month she felt as close to Sarah as if they were really sisters. And in that time she’d come to another, more profound realization.

  She was deeply in love with Jack.

  For someone who was convinced she was constitutionally incapable of falling in love again, this was big news.

  “I can’t thank you two enough,” Sarah said when Jack returned from the truck. “I don’t know what I would have done these last weeks without you.” She hugged them, then turned away in an effort to hide the tears that glistened in her dark eyes. “I’ll be fine now. You two go and have fun. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

  Jack hesitated. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” Sarah made busywork around her compact kitchen, removing several items from the closest box and setting them on the counter. All the while her back was to them. “Please,” she added.

  Remembering her own experience, Lacey whispered, “She’ll be fine. All she needs is time.”

  Together Lacey and Jack walked outside to where Jack had parked the moving van. He opened the passenger door and helped her inside.

  Lacey removed her bandanna and shook her head to free the thick strands of dark hair that were plastered against her face. Jack climbed into the driver’s seat. She noticed how his hands tightened around the steering wheel. For several seconds he just sat there. Then he started the engine and moved out into traffic. But he still seemed deep in thought. Something was wrong.

  “Jack,” she said softly, “what’s troubling you?”

  Her voice broke him out of his reverie, and he smiled as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Not a thing. How about sharing a hot fudge sundae with me after we take the truck back?”

  It sounded wonderful, but Lacey had discovered in the last few weeks that almost every minute she spent in Jack’s company was special. He was special.