Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  The smell of sautéed onions, garlic, basil, green peppers and other fragrances she could not identify brought Scout back to the present. Steam rose from a large pot of water on the stove. The contents of two saucepans sizzled. Nick stood at the counter next to the stove, chopping basil.

  “Hey.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. “We’re almost there; don’t fall asleep yet, okay?”

  Scout nodded weakly, but then decided conversation might be the only way to focus her attention. “You really look like you know what you’re doing over there. I’m impressed. I didn’t know you could cook.”

  Nick flashed an amused grin at her. “Well, of course I can cook.”

  “Why of course? Lots of people can’t, or don’t, cook. I can’t.”

  “That’s not the point. You’re not Italian.” He sprinkled the basil into one of the pans and then stirred with a graceful twisting motion of his wrist.

  “Oh.” Scout thought about that. “You mean, it’s like a cultural thing?”

  “Nah, I think it’s more – oh, I don’t know, genetic, I guess.”

  “Genetic? So, you’re saying anyone with Italian blood in their veins can cook?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.” He bent to open the oven door and removed a fragrant, crusty loaf of bread, which he quickly deposited into a cloth-covered basket. Then he slid the basket across the table toward Scout, along with a small bowl of warm olive oil to which a clove of garlic, crushed red pepper, and several sprigs of fresh rosemary had been added. “Here, why don’t you start with that.”

  “You don’t mean that you all cook well, though, do you?” Scout broke the bread apart, and dipped a piece into the fragrant oil. The taste revived more than her energy; she felt her heart-warming within her. She’d had no idea she was so cold.

  Nick had gone back to chopping – sun-dried tomatoes this time – which he added to the mixture cooking in the other pan. “Absolutely. You can’t really call it cooking if it’s something no one wants to eat, right? The real secret, however, is that each of us, in our heart of hearts, believes not just that we cook well, but that we cook better than just about anyone else. At least certain, special dishes, we do. I think that’s why Italians tend to eat at home so much.”

  “So, is Lucy a good cook?”

  “Well, of course she is. She makes a minestrone that even my mother can’t touch. But you know, she’d pretty much have to be good with herbs and vegetables and stuff, anyway, being married to Dan. If you want to taste something really special, get her to fix you some of her homemade gnocchi with pesto sometime.” He flicked the heat off under both pans and tilted the contents of the pot into a strainer in the sink. Steam rose to envelope him. That’ll be the day. Scout shook her head. “I don’t know, Nick. I can’t really see Lucy jumping at the opportunity to fix me dinner. Unless maybe it was for a going-away party.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Nick said as he assembled everything onto two plates, which he then carried to the table. “One of these days, she just might surprise you.”

  He set the food down with a flourish and slid into the chair across from her. The plate in front of her had been piled high with multi-colored pasta bows in a delicate basil cream sauce, tossed with a mixture of red and green peppers, onions, broccoli, yellow zucchini, sun-dried tomatoes, and cubes of grilled chicken. All topped with more basil and paper-thin slices of Parmesan cheese. Nick watched her with amusement as she inhaled the fragrances greedily.

  Scout sighed happily. “It smells wonderful.”

  “Yeah, but it tastes even better – mangia!”

  “So,” she asked, between mouthfuls. “Is this one of those special dishes that you cook better than anyone else?”

  “Nah,” he answered with a grin. “This is just what you get when you throw a lot of leftovers together. It’s nothing really – just a snack.”

  Scout looked at him curiously. “So, what’s the deal with you and Lucy? I know you’re cousins and all, but she seems awfully worried about you.”

  “Well, we’re double first cousins; that might have something to do with it.

  “Double first cousins? What does that mean?”

  “My mother and her mother are sisters, and her father and my father were brothers. Plus, for a while, after my father died, I practically lived with her and her family.”

  “Sounds like you’re all pretty close.”

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, we are.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  “You know, you keep telling me that,” he observed, grinning wryly.

  “And you don’t think you are?”

  “I guess I am.” He shrugged. “Luckier than my daughter, anyway. What does she have?”

  “Oh, come on, I know something about families, too, you know. Especially ones that don’t work. I saw your daughter with her cousins. She knows she’s loved. She’s got you and she’s got her mother, and even if you aren’t living together, it’s still better than being abandoned.”

  He nodded. “I know you’re right. And I know it’s better now than it was when Lauren and I were together. Although there are plenty of people who’d maybe tell you otherwise.” Nick’s voice was harsh. It pained her to hear it. “But still, it’s not what I wanted for Kate.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Ah, it was just a mistake, that’s all. As Lucy would probably be the first to tell you.” He shook his head, thoughtfully. “She says I make a lot of them.”

  “You? Are you kidding?” Scout smiled, trying to make a joke of it. “Remember me? The queen of galactic mistakes? I’m pretty sure I hold the record for royally screwing things up, as far as Lucy’s concerned.”

  Nick shot one piercing glance at her, but just when she thought he was about to say something, he seemed to change his mind, and looked away again. The moment stretched out uncomfortably.

  When he finally did speak, he caught her completely off guard. “I need to ask you something,” he said. And the quiet, serious tone of his voice sent a tiny warning tingle through her. “Last night, when you asked if I would stay, I didn’t know if – that is, you didn’t mean – ah, hell. What did you mean?”

  The second wave of fatigue hit her then, and her hand closed convulsively on the stem of her wineglass. She struggled to keep her voice as steady as she could make it when she answered, “Nothing, Nick. I... I didn’t mean anything by it. Really. I guess I just got caught up in the moment, that’s all. It’s not like I was going to hold you to it, or anything. It wasn’t a promise. Like you said, let’s just enjoy the present, all right?”

  He took a deep breath and let it out again. “From what you told me yesterday, I kind of got the impression that you’re pretty much settled in LA now. I mean, with your work and all?”

  She could hear the carefully controlled tension in his voice, the wariness, the fear, and it just about broke her heart. She should have known it was too good to be true. What was it Lucy had said again? Nick’s got a life. He doesn’t need Scout. She supposed she was lucky to have had even this much.

  “I mean, you probably have a really nice place there, and friends, and…and everything?” he prompted.

  She thought of the life she had made for herself. Her little condo near the beach was nice enough, she supposed. Nice and empty. Sterile. Impersonal. Lonely. “Yeah, sure. And, you know, like you said, I’ve got my work, too.” She took another sip of wine, not wanting him to see the bitter smile she could not keep from her face as she thought about that. Thought of all those dry, hollow, lifeless shells of clay that awaited her return. “In fact, I fit right in there.” She ran her trembling fingers lightly over the top of the table, wanting so much to be touching him instead, but not daring to.

  “Oberon can be a nice place, too. But I know you don’t really like it here.”

  She laughed at that. She couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, dear God. “Well, I mean, there have always been so many reasons not to!”

  He nodded. “I know. I thought that maybe, now that y
ou had the house and all, you might – but I guess there’s still no reason for you to move back here. Is there?”

  What was one more lie between them? “No. No reason. And anyway, you know, I never felt the house belonged to me. It was always Caroline’s. It really should have gone to Lisa.”

  She felt him shift restlessly in his seat. “I honestly don’t think she’s gonna be coming back, Scout.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Marsha says, too.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yeah? You think Marsha knows something about Lisa’s disappearance?”

  “I don’t know. She does seem awfully certain that she’s dead. I mean, it’s not like she thinks probably she is; more like she has some reason to believe it.”

  “And what do you think?” Nick asked quietly.

  Scout sighed. “I don’t know. I guess she must be dead, after all this time. But I still don’t want to believe it, because... well, don’t you see? Then it’s like I killed her.”

  “Of course it’s not,” he insisted, a little too vehemently, she thought. “Don’t say things like that. You didn’t kill anyone. Whatever might have happened, I know it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Oh, it really was, Nick. Because, whatever might have happened... it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t left home. And she never would have left, if it weren’t for me.”

  “Are you so sure of that?”

  “Yes. Yes, damn it! How many times do I have to say it? Lisa left because of me. Because of all the stupid things I did back then.”

  “Tell me about it. I never heard the whole story. What was the argument about, exactly?”

  Oh, no. Not again. “You already know what it was about, Nick. Why do we have to go into this again? What’s going on here, anyway?”

  “Just tell me,” he said quietly. His face so serious it scared her.

  Scout sighed and leaned back in her chair, hugging herself fiercely. “We fought about Glenn, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? She knew I’d slept with him and she accused me of trying to steal him from her, and she told me to stay away from both of them.

  “I guess I said something like, ‘That’ll be hard, since you and I both have to live here.’ And she said that was going to change, or something like that. I don’t know. She said I was in for a surprise, I think. And then she left.”

  “Did you try to stop her? Did you go after her, or anything like that?”

  “No. When she left – I had no idea that she was, you know, leaving.”

  “And that was the last time you saw her?”

  “Pretty much, I guess.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “Well, that was it. After she didn’t come home from school the next day, Caroline asked me if I knew where she was, and I didn’t. But even then, we didn’t realize she was gone.”

  She sighed as the memories tugged at her heart. “Until Lucy got that letter, I don’t think the idea that she would run away even occurred to us. It was just such a stupid thing for her to do, especially when—”

  “Wait a minute. Are you telling me your sister was missing for practically a whole day and night before you and her mother even noticed she was gone?”

  “What? No, of course not. She was in school all day. At least... well, I didn’t see her, but I’m pretty sure she was there.”

  “And the night before was when you two had this argument? So, where’d she go after that?

  “Well, she was with Lucy.”

  “Lucy?”

  “Yeah. Sure. She spent the night at her house. They were working on a project or something. I thought they were planning some way to get back at me, if you want to know.”

  “So after you two argued, she went to Lucy’s house? When exactly did she disappear?”

  “The next day, like I said. Sometime after school.”

  “But you didn’t see her in school?”

  “Not that I remember. To tell you the truth, I was trying to stay out of her way.”

  “And after school?”

  “After school, I was with you.” Scout felt her heart lurch a little at the thought. She smiled at him, sadly.

  “Right,” he said without returning her smile. “I remember that part. And then you were with Glenn.”

  “No,” she said in surprise. “After that, I went home. Why would you think I was with Glenn?”

  “I guess because you told me you were,” he answered dryly.

  Huh? “When did I do that?”

  Nick sighed. “That day at your school, when I questioned you, do you remember?”

  Oh, yes. She nodded, swallowing hard. “I remember.”

  “I asked where you’d been, and you said you’d been with Glenn. At his house. Making love.”

  Scout gasped. His words, and the ice in his voice, were like an assault. “I never said any such thing!” She half stood, slamming her palms down on the table in front of her in sudden fury.

  “You did, you know,” Nick told her quietly, playing with his empty wineglass. “I was there. I heard you.”

  “I might have... maybe I... might have said that we were making out, but I never—”

  “But you did, didn’t you? You slept with him?”

  “Well, yes, but not then.”

  “So what’s the difference, right?”

  It had been so long ago. Would she never live it down? She sank back into her chair. “Right. I guess. Look, I know I said I was with him that day but you knew it wasn’t true.” When he didn’t answer, she looked at him questioningly. What she saw in his face surprised and puzzled her. “Nick, you knew I wasn’t with Glenn that afternoon. The afternoon of the murder,” she repeated more firmly. “The day that Lisa ran away.”

  “No,” he said at last, even more quietly.

  She stared at him in disbelief. “But Nick, you had to know where I really was that afternoon. I was with you. At your apartment. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

  “And afterwards?” he prompted, very gently. “After I left?”

  She shook her head. “After that, I went home. How could you have thought—”

  He got up and began to pace the room distractedly. “But you did see him later that day, right?”

  “No, damn it! Will you listen to me? I didn’t see him at all! I didn’t see anybody. I went straight home. I stayed in my room. I lay in my bed and…and I thought about what had almost happened. What might happen the next time I saw you. What I hoped was going to happen, if you want to know.” She smiled weakly. “And then later that evening, about eight, I guess, Caroline came in and asked me if I had any idea where Lisa could be.”

  “So then, when he backed you up – about your being with him—”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, well.” She laughed at that – a low, mocking laugh. God, she had been such an idiot. “That’s what made it such a great partnership, you know? If one of us lied, the other would swear to it.”

  “Just like now, I guess.”

  “Now?”

  Once again she was startled as much by his tone and the hard look of fury on his face as by the words themselves. “Yeah, now. This week. You’re still lying to protect each other, aren’t you?”

  “Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked coldly.

  “You said you had dinner with him Monday. Just dinner, you said.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So you weren’t with him earlier in the day? Say, at about, oh, ten a.m.?”

  Scout had no idea where he was going with this, but if he was still suspicious of her relationship with Glenn, he could go to hell. She’d be damned if she was going to trot out any more of her emotions for him to stomp on. Especially not now, when he’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want her on any kind of a permanent basis.

  “We had dinner,” she repeated, her voice flat. “That’s all.”

  They exchanged a long, wordless look. Nick was the first to look away. “Forget it,” he said, sounding tired and disgusted and angrier than he
had any right to be. “I don’t know why we’re having this discussion, anyway. I really don’t want to talk about this now.”

  “Yeah? Well, that makes two of us.”

  His eyes flashed for a moment, and then his face closed down again. She could actually see him closing himself off from her. Shutting her out. “Maybe you should think about trying to get some sleep,” he said coldly. “I think we’re both dead on our feet.”

  But she barely heard him, because that’s when the third wave hit her and took her under.

  * * *

  Nick had been watching Scout sleep for over an hour now; right there in his bed, on the other side of the room, her hair splayed out across his pillow. His body was screaming with its need for her, but he refused to give in to it.

  She didn’t love him.

  Blind as he had always been where she was concerned, even he could see that. She didn’t love him, and she wouldn’t stay.

  Whatever he thought last night had meant, whatever he imagined he’d seen when he looked into her eyes, he’d been mistaken. Last night hadn’t meant a damn thing to her. It couldn’t have. Not when she could still look him right in the eye, as she had tonight, and lie about having been with Glenn all day Monday.

  Oh, hell. If he were smart, he wouldn’t even have brought that up. He would have just forgotten about the whole damn thing. What did it matter what went on before yesterday? Besides, it still would have come to this in the end, wouldn’t it?

  Hadn’t he felt her pulling away from him all night? The whole time they were here, as he cooked for her, as he ate with her, as they talked?

  Can’t you see how good we could be together? he’d felt like shouting. Can’t you feel how right this is?

  But what good did it do him to feel that way, when he knew she wouldn’t stay? All he had left to hold onto was the frail hope that this time maybe she wouldn’t disappear as completely as she had before. Right now, even that seemed like too much to expect.

  God, but he was tired. He wanted nothing so much as to crawl into bed and take her into his arms, wipe the whole rotten day from his mind, and find again what he had found with her last night. But it wasn’t real. And it wouldn’t last. It was a fantasy. A dream. A lie. And he’d had enough of those for a lifetime.