“I haven’t heard from her,” he said, obviously furious and worried in equal measures. “Who is this Cindy person and why didn’t you get a phone number?”
Francesca wasn’t willing to take the fall on this one. “She said you had told her it was fine. I assumed you had.”
Sam had pulled off his suit jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. Even without all the trappings of success, he still looked powerful and angry.
“She told you I said it was okay and you believed her?” he asked, sounding incredulous. “We’re talking about a kid who thinks nothing of lying to get her own way.”
Francesca refused to be intimidated by his size or his temper. “When has she lied? To the best of my knowledge, Kelly is completely upfront about her wants and desires. Are you saying this morning she didn’t ask you about going to Cindy’s and you didn’t say it was all right?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Rage faded from his eyes.
She put her hands on her hips. Now it was her turn to glare. “What?”
He turned away and walked into the kitchen. “I was reading the paper this morning,” he mumbled.
She followed him. “So?” Then the pieces clicked into place. “Oh. You were reading and not listening. In fact, you can’t remember one thing your daughter may or may not have said. So for all you know she did tell you about going to Cindy’s. You might have even agreed.”
“Couldn’t you at least have gotten a phone number?” he asked, turning to face her.
“Couldn’t you have at least listened for thirty seconds?”
“I listened.”
“Obviously not. Kelly is your child and your responsibility.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he yelled. “I can’t take a breath without thinking about it. I didn’t ask for this responsibility, but I’m doing the best I can. Everything about my life is different, with no warning, no explanation.”
Francesca tried not to panic. Sam hadn’t actually come out and said he didn’t want his child, but he’d skated close to it. Close enough to make her press a protective hand over her stomach. This was not good.
Just then the front door opened. “I’m home,” Kelly called. “Francesca, you’re here. Did Sam call and ask you to—”
Kelly walked into the kitchen and looked from Sam to Francesca and back. “What?” she asked, suddenly looking wary.
“Did you ask permission to go to Cindy’s this morning?” Sam demanded.
Francesca winced at his harsh, accusing tone.
Kelly took a step back. “Of course I did and you said it was fine. I even wrote down her telephone number.”
Sam blinked. “You did what?”
Kelly stalked over to the pad by the phone and pulled off the top sheet. She carried it back to her father and slapped it down on the counter next to him.
“Well, hell,” Sam muttered. “I guess I overreacted.”
Kelly’s gaze narrowed. “Why are you all mad? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know,” Sam said. “I came home early and when you weren’t here, I got worried. When I called Francesca, she said you were at a friend’s, and I didn’t remember us talking about it.”
Kelly took a step back. “You weren’t listening to me?” she asked, sounding both insulted and hurt. “Was I too boring ?”
“Of course not. I was—”
She cut him off with a shake of her head. “You were reading your damn paper.”
“Don’t you swear, young lady.”
“Why not? You don’t listen. I thought you were different!” she yelled. “I thought you weren’t like her. But you are. You’re a lousy parent. You’re horrible. I hate you!”
Sam stepped toward her. “Kelly, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I never meant to.”
“You didn’t hurt my feelings. I don’t care anything about you. No, that’s not true. I’m sorry you’re my father. I wish you weren’t. I wish I’d never come here.”
She ran out of the room. Francesca hesitated, not sure if she should go after her.
Sam leaned against the counter and rubbed his eyes. “That would be my parental screwup for the day. Why can’t I get control of this situation? I can manage everything else in my life. Why not Kelly?”
“If you talked to her—” she began.
“I don’t want to talk to her.” Sam walked to the refrigerator and took out a can of soda. “I don’t want to have to deal with any of this. I want things like they were before she ever showed up.”
He offered her the can. Francesca could barely breathe, but she managed to shake her head. Her throat was tight, her heart heavy. She’d known Sam was still adjusting to having Kelly around, but she’d thought he was coming to care about his daughter.
“Unless you need me to stick around,” she murmured, “I should be going.”
“I’m sorry I called in a panic,” he said.
“You were worried. That’s okay.”
He walked her to the door. Francesca said a quick goodbye and hurried to her truck. She had to get away before she gave into the need to burst into tears. She’d been a fool, because in her heart of hearts, she’d actually hoped Sam might be happy about the baby. Now she knew he would consider the child nothing but an inconvenience and her little more than a liar who had tricked him into a situation he didn’t want.
• • •
Sam waited an hour before heading up to Kelly’s room. She didn’t answer when he knocked, but the door wasn’t locked. He considered that a good sign.
When he stepped inside, she was stretched out on the bed, her back to the door. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the mattress.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have listened.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Sure it does.” He studied her red curls and the curve of her back. When she was going toe-to-toe with him, she seemed so grown-up, but here, curled up on her bed, she was small and defenseless. A child. His child.
He wanted to be in control, but Kelly was her own person. Maybe the best he could hope for was an alliance between them.
He smiled as he remembered plenty of fights with Gabriel. No doubt he’d been just as stubborn and difficult when he’d been growing up.
“What was it you called me before?” he asked. “A pinhead?”
She turned to face him. Her eyes were swollen and red, her face damp from her tears. The sight of her pain stabbed him right in the gut.
“A butthead,” she whispered.
“Hmm. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. How about if you call me a pinhead, I promise to listen, and we’re even?”
Kelly stared at him without speaking.
He leaned toward her and lightly touched the back of her hand. “I’m really sorry. You followed the rules. You asked for permission, you left a phone number, you even told Francesca. I was wrong.”
“You want to buy me a DVD player to make up for what you did?” she asked with a sniff.
“No. But I know a great rib restaurant that has a pretty cool video game room in back. I’ll front you five bucks’ worth of quarters.”
“It’s not a DVD player.”
“I’m aware of that.”
She sat up. “Thanks for apologizing.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Are these Chicago-style ribs?”
He groaned. “They’re ribs. Meat, bone, barbecue sauce. Just ribs.”
Kelly sighed. “You don’t have to have a hissy fit just because you don’t know what kind they are.”
He growled. She giggled, then smiled. Without thinking, he held open his arms. Kelly stared at him as if he’d turned into a rat. But just as he was about to lower his arms, she moved close.
He hugged her, and for the first time since she’d shown up on his doorstep, he felt how small she was. Thin and frail. But full of life. His daughter, he thought with pride. His child.
14
The late morning sun was warm as Fra
ncesca adjusted her straw hat and wove her way through the row of grapevines.
“What are these?” she asked her sister.
Brenna stopped walking and pressed her lips together in an expression of disgust. “I can’t believe you don’t know the different kinds of grapes.”
“They’re red,” Francesca said helpfully.
“Wow. You can do your colors. What’s next? Shapes?”
“Hey, don’t mock my intelligence,” Francesca told her. “I was the slow learner, remember? I’m very sensitive about my abilities.”
Brenna shook her head. “That was nearly twenty years ago. Since then you’ve gone to college, graduated summa cum laude with a bachelor’s degree, and you’re in a Ph.D. program. That ‘I’m not the smart one’ card doesn’t play anymore.”
Francesca started to protest, then stopped herself. She still remembered her frustration at being unable to read while everyone else in her class caught on so quickly. She’d been nine before she’d suddenly figured out what the jumble of letters meant and saw they could form words and sentences and entire thoughts. No one knew what had caused her learning disability. A few doctors had speculated there was a part of her brain that had simply taken longer to mature. Regardless, she’s spent a lot of years feeling stupid and slow.
Had that really been almost twenty years ago? When she thought of it in those terms, she was forced to admit she’d come a long way.
“So now I’m smarter than you,” she said, teasing her sister.
Brenna bent over and checked the trellis holding the grapevine in place. “Not about growing grapes or making wine.”
“Good point.”
Brenna straightened. “And we’re both idiots when it comes to men. Unless you’ve improved through practicing on Sam?”
Francesca didn’t want to think about him. “Not really.”
“We won’t even get into the family problems.”
“I think we should. We have to talk about it, Brenna.”
Her twin shrugged. “Is that why you came by?”
“It’s part of the reason. I’ve been worried about you.”
About them both. There was so much going on right now. Francesca didn’t think she could handle one more thing.
“They want Sam to find him,” Brenna said. “Mom already called him and he agreed.”
Francesca wasn’t surprised. She’d passed along Sam’s offer. Her parents had still been in shock, but when that faded, she knew they would want to get in touch with their firstborn.
“Did he tell you they’d accepted?” Brenna asked.
Francesca glanced at the rows of grapevines. “No, but we haven’t actually seen that much of each other in the past week or so.”
Not since Kelly had gone to spend the afternoon with a friend and Sam had gone ballistic.
“Do I want to know why?”
“Different reasons.”
“That sounds ominous.”
Francesca brushed aside her concern. “That’s not important. I’ve been worried about you. About how you’re handling all this. Grandpa Lorenzo talking about selling was one thing. It could have been a lot of bluster on his part. But finding out about another child…”
Brenna plucked at a leaf. “Not just a child. A grandson. Our sexist grandfather is so happy he positively beams. I’m guessing he has visions of bringing the long-lost man into the folds of family and teaching him all he needs to know to run Marcelli Wines.”
Francesca wanted to say that wasn’t possible, except she knew it was. It might even be likely. “Maybe he won’t be interested.”
Brenna’s expression tightened. “Marcelli Wines is worth about forty million dollars. Would you walk away from that?”
Francesca swallowed. “Forty million?” She’d known the land and the vines had value, but that much? “Tell me again why I’m scrimping and saving to put myself through college.”
Brenna smiled. “Because you have integrity, kid.”
“Oh, right. Think I could get a cash advance on my inheritance?”
“You’re probably going to have to talk to your brother about that.”
A brother. She still couldn’t believe it. “They should have told us a long time ago. We would have understood.”
“It wouldn’t have hurt so badly,” Brenna murmured.
Francesca agreed. Keeping secrets created trouble, which was something she’d been telling herself.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Brenna asked.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You’ve been acting weird since the Fourth. And don’t tell me it’s about our long-lost brother, because you were weird before that.”
Francesca tried to smile. “Gee, thanks for the endorsement.”
“You know what I mean. I can tell there’s something off. So what is it? Did you go and fall for Sam? Are you starting to think that marriage might not be such a bad thing?”
Her sister’s guess was so far from the truth that Francesca laughed. “Not even close. I’m—”
Brenna waited.
Francesca sighed. Maybe it was time to come clean, if not to Sam then to her twin sister. “I’m pregnant.”
Her twin’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.
“Holy shit! Are you kidding?”
“No. I took a pregnancy test about ten days ago, and it was positive. I haven’t gotten my period since, so there’s no reason to think anything has changed.”
Brenna leaned over the row of grapes and hugged her. “Wow. This is so amazing. You’re going to have a baby!” She straightened. “Okay, so this isn’t exactly how you had your life plan set up. I know you don’t want a husband, but kids are different. Aren’t you thrilled?”
“I don’t know.”
Brenna smiled. “You should be. A baby! Remember how we used to talk about how many kids we’d have and how they’d all grow up playing with each other, like you, me, and Katie did? How we’d take them to that grove of trees and let them play dress-up? You’re having a baby!”
Francesca touched her still-flat stomach. “Honestly, Brenna, I don’t know what I feel. I’m scared, I’m excited, I’m worried. And if we’re going to have our kids all playing together, then you’d better get a bun in the oven of your own.”
Brenna grimaced. “That would require me having sex, and right now that’s not likely to happen. But with Katie getting married, there will be cousins for your little one.”
Brenna stopped talking and sucked in a breath. “You haven’t told Sam yet, have you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”
Brenna stared at her. “How about something along the lines of ‘Hey, big guy. One of your little tadpoles got a bit too frisky.’ ”
Despite her emotional angst, she couldn’t help smiling. “You really want me to call him ‘big guy’ and refer to his sperm as tadpoles?”
“Maybe not.” Brenna turned toward the winery. “This is sure going to change your life.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So why haven’t you told him?” Brenna asked.
“A lot of reasons. For one thing, I’ve been in shock. We used a condom. I know they’re not a hundred percent effective, but having me get pregnant the first night seems really unfair.”
Brenna looked at her. “That’s a pretty lousy argument.”
“Agreed. I’m… scared. At first I didn’t want to say anything because he was dealing with Kelly showing up in his life and—”
Brenna swore. “Kelly! I’d forgotten all about her. Oh, kid, you are in big trouble. Practically the same week Sam finds out he’s the father of a teenager, you turn up pregnant. Talk about lousy timing.”
“You’re not making me feel better,” Francesca told her. “But you’re also right. That’s why I waited. I didn’t want to dump this on him, and I was still getting used to the idea myself. Then I found out we had a brother and it’s been crazy.”
“And?”
Francesca si
ghed. “And Sam is having a tough time adjusting to Kelly. She’s a great kid, but a handful. Last week he got really angry and said some things about her disrupting his life and how he didn’t ask for the responsibility.”
“If he doesn’t want Kelly, he’s not going to want your baby?”
Francesca wasn’t surprised Brenna understood. “Yeah. Plus, things have been really good with Sam and telling him is going to change all of that.”
“You think?”
“I’m so screwed,” Francesca muttered.
“You’re also not ’fessing up to the most important part.”
“What?”
Brenna stopped walking and faced her. “You don’t want to tell Sam because you don’t want to hear what he has to say. Not because he’s going to reject your child, but because you have this fantasy in mind. One in which he sweeps you off your feet and confesses undying love.”
Francesca rolled her eyes. “That’s so much bull.”
“Is it? You’re nearly as romantic as Katie. You’re like the middle child, seeing everyone’s point of view, rescuing the world. Sam is a great guy. After years of not wanting a man in your life, you finally hook up with him and he’s terrific. Sexy, smart, successful. It’s okay if you fall for him.”
“I didn’t fall for him. I don’t love him. I don’t want anything from him but sex. Now we’re having a child and that complicates everything.”
“No way,” Brenna told her. “The baby is just logistics. If you weren’t worried about getting hurt, you would have told him. You have to work out details like custody. If your heart weren’t engaged, stuff like that wouldn’t matter.”
Francesca didn’t like anything her sister was saying. “You’re wrong.”
“You don’t want to admit I’m right because it scares the crap out of you and because you don’t like me figuring out something about you that you couldn’t figure out yourself. It violates your view of yourself as psychologically superior.”
The verbal slam caught Francesca like a blow. “That is so unfair.”
Brenna shrugged. “It’s true. You planned this whole affair with Sam as if you were shopping for a wardrobe. Oh, you need a little black dress, so go to the stores until you find the right one. But this isn’t a dress. It’s sex. And you’re not shallow enough to give your body without your heart being engaged.”
The Sassy One Page 19
