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

by P. G. Forte

  It was obviously a pattern he’d spent years perfecting. And she had no reason to assume that he’d abandon it now, for her sake.

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  * * * *

  Chapter Eight

  * * * *

  Saturday’s newspaper was full of ads and gift suggestions for Valentine’s Day bordered with rows of tiny red and pink hearts. Sam studied them thoughtfully as he sat in Marsha’s kitchen sipping his morning tea. Valentine’s Day was not a holiday he’d ever had much interest in before. But this year was different. He was sure Marsha would expect some gesture on his part. But what?

  He tried to imagine what she might be thinking, but that wasn’t ever easy, and first thing in the morning, it was damn near impossible. He was still trying to get over the surprise he’d received when he’d opened his eyes a few minutes earlier, and found himself on her couch. He must have fallen asleep there last night while watching videos with the boys. And she’d let him stay. He drank a little more tea and contemplated this encouraging turn of events, along with the equally cheering thought that perhaps his luck had returned.

  He could tell by the absolute quiet in the cozy little house, that no one else was awake, yet. He thought about testing his luck even further by sneaking into her bedroom. But he quickly dismissed the idea. Until he knew for sure what motivated her actions last night, he didn’t want to do anything that might cause her to regret her decision.

  As he paged through the paper, his thoughts strayed to the ring he’d bought her. Lately, he’d taken to carrying it around with him like some sort of talisman. Maybe Valentine’s Day was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. If he asked her to marry him on the most romantic night of the year, would she really be able to refuse?

  He lifted his head at the sound of a key turning quietly in the back door lock. A lot of his good mood left him as – very stealthily, just like the rat he was – Marsha’s ex-husband let himself into her house.

  “Good morning,” Sam addressed the other man, coldly. “A little early for a social call, isn’t it, Alex?”

  Alex stopped in his tracks. His face flushed beet red and he scowled. “Yes, well, I suppose I could say the same thing to you, couldn’t I?”

  “You could,” Sam answered, stretching the truth a little as he added. “Except that I was invited.”

  The scowl dropped away, replaced by a look of condescending smugness. “And I’m here to pick up my sons. I don’t imagine I need an invitation for that.”

  Sam looked at him, long and steadily, as he fought down an urge to do something to wipe the arrogant smirk from the other man’s face. That smirk was definitely irritating. But then again, there probably wasn’t anything about the man that wasn’t. He was a loser. A parasite. An ex-pat British snob. A college professor with an eye for his students, which was just about as commonplace a cliche as any Sam could imagine.

  As far as he could tell, Alexander James III had produced only two things of value in his entire life – even there he’d needed help. And the way he treated them, he didn’t deserve to have two such wonderful sons. Not to mention the way he treated Marsha.

  But thinking of Marsha brought up another point. For how long had her ex-husband had a key to her house? And, even more importantly, how had he come by it?

  “I don’t believe the boys are awake yet,” Sam said. And then, mindful of the fact that, if things worked out the way he hoped they would, he could look forward to years of similar encounters, he resolved to treat the loser as cordially as possible. “Perhaps you’d like some tea while you’re waiting?” His voice came out even and calm. Sam was impressed with his own restraint.

  “No, I’ll just go and get them up,” Alex said carelessly. Sam watched as he crossed the kitchen and headed toward the hallway that would lead to the bedrooms. The anger he’d been trying to hold in check swept over him. It appeared that his restraint had limits, after all. Those limits had just been exceeded.

  “I think you might want to rethink that plan, Al,” he murmured with dangerous softness. “I doubt Marsha wants you wandering around her house while she’s sleeping. I know I don’t.” He took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. “If you change your mind about the tea though, the water’s on the stove.”

  “You know... Sam, isn’t it? I fail to see how this is any of your business,” Alex gritted through clenched teeth. But obviously mindful of the unspoken threat, he moved no further. “And I don’t have all morning to waste here, either, you know.”

  Sam smiled politely. “I guess perhaps you should have called first, huh? If you really don’t feel like waiting, you could always come back later. Or perhaps, after the boys wake up, I could drop them off somewhere for you?”

  “Alex? What on earth are you doing here?” Marsha, looking deeply alarmed, appeared in the kitchen doorway, clutching her robe at her throat.

  Alex turned to her, impatiently. “Well, now, that’s a stupid question, Marsha, isn’t it? What do you think I’m doing here? And while we’re on the subject, love, I would very much like a word with you. Alone.”

  Marsha’s head reared back, and an angry flush appeared on her cheeks. Sam found himself on his feet, without quite knowing how he’d gotten there. He made another bid to regain his slipping self-control.

  “Why don’t I go and tell the boys their father is here?” he said gently. Marsha turned to him. Not for the first time, he wished he could read her mind. She looked... well, stricken. He could think of no other word for it. And for no reason that he could imagine, there appeared to be tears in her eyes. He sat back down. “Unless you’d rather I stay here?” he suggested, slowly feeling his way.

  She dropped her eyes from his startled gaze. “Uh, no. Please, Sam. If you wouldn’t mind calling them for me? That would be very helpful. Thank you.”

  “Fine.” He got up once more and started around the table, pausing for a moment by her side to observe her more closely. Yep, definitely tears. Helpless anger roiled around inside him. “And then I’ll just... wait for you. Right inside here. Until you’re done talking,” he told her, finishing the sentence only in his head, in case you need me for anything.

  He’d wait for her. Marsha nodded as Sam left the room. Ignoring Alex, she crossed to the table and sat down. He’d wait. Sure. But for how much longer?

  She’d been pulled from a very pleasant sleep by the waves of dark hostility that rolled through the house. This wasn’t the normal irritation Frank and Jesse frequently felt toward one another – that was something she’d learned to ignore. This was something different. There was nothing tempering this anger. The air had been thick with tension when she walked into the kitchen and it was immediately clear to her that Sam was furious. But his voice had been so quiet, so controlled, without any of the warmth she’d grown accustomed to hearing in it. It was starting already, she thought, sadly. Well, welcome to my world, Sam. Sorry you won’t be staying.

  Maybe it had been a mistake to let him spend the night. She’d been thinking in terms of a leisurely breakfast, and of prolonging, for just a couple more hours, the pleasant pretense that they were a family. But as usual, she hadn’t taken into account Alex’s penchant for screwing up her life.

  The problem was that, although she’d long ago come to terms with Alex, Sam still wasn’t used to him. And there was no reason he should ever have to become used to him, either, she reminded herself. There wasn’t all that much holding him here, after all. Just her.

  “Really, Marsha, whatever were you thinking?” Alex scowled. “How could you let some man spend the night with you, while you have the boys here? Just what kind of example are you trying to set for our sons, anyway?”

  “Sam is not just some man, Alex,” Marsha answered wearily. “You know that. And, anyway, who are you to talk? You moved in with Sherry before we were even divorced. You weren’t so worried about setting examples then, as I recall.”

  “That was totally different,” he replied coldly. “The boys were much youn
ger then. They’re at an age now where they know what it means when a man and a woman share a bed.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Jesse asked, as he entered the room. “Hi, Dad. Do I have time for breakfast before we go?”

  “No. We’ll get you something out. Where’s your brother?”

  “He’s coming.” Jesse grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the table and took a bite. “You weren’t talking about Sam just now, were you?” he asked after a minute, during which none of them spoke. “Cause he slept on the couch last night.”

  “On the couch?” Alex asked skeptically, just as Frank entered the room.

  “What’s on the couch?” Frank asked, frowning at the apple in his brother’s hand.

  “Sam is,” Jesse told him. “Or, he was. He slept on the couch last night, didn’t he?”

  “Oh.” Frank glanced quickly at Marsha and then away again. He shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever. What’s for breakfast, Mom?”

  “Better ask your father about that,” Marsha said. “He says you’re eating breakfast out.”

  “Never mind breakfast,” Alex snapped. “You two should have eaten before this. Are you ready now? Because I’d like to get going.”

  “Better take an apple,” Jesse advised his brother. He brushed a quick kiss on Marsha’s cheek before he followed his father out the door. “So Dad, what did you think of Sam’s car? Did you see it? Isn’t it cool?”

  “I don’t want an apple. What kind of stupid, bogus breakfast is that?” Frank muttered, but he took one anyway. And then, after a moment’s deliberation, he opened one of the cupboards and stuck a couple of granola bars in his pocket, as well. “Listen, Mom, do you think maybe—” he broke off when Sam appeared in the doorway. “Oh, there you are, Sam. Listen, there’s no school on Monday, so do you think we could, you know, do something? Like go for a drive up the coast maybe?”

  Sam nodded slowly. “It’s possible. But let’s wait and see what the weather’s doing before I make any promises, okay?”

  “Okay,” Frank said, adding a little more hesitantly. “But... I get the front seat, right? You’ll remember that it’s still my turn, won’t you?”

  “I’ll remember.”

  “Okay, cool.” Frank’s eyes lit up and he smiled one of his rare smiles. He pushed the hair off his forehead as he turned to Marsha. “Bye, Mom. Bye, Sam. See you Monday.”

  Marsha felt a brief moment’s panic as she watched him disappear out the door. For the first time she noticed how long he’d let his hair grow. Almost long enough for him to start wearing it in a ponytail – just like Sam wore his. Her soul ached for her son’s cautious heart, and the pain he was sure to feel because of it. Maybe she’d been a fool thinking she could save them from anything. Maybe they were all doomed to suffer for her foolishness.

  Still lounging in the doorway, Sam watched Frank leave, then he turned to look at Marsha. “So, does your ex do stuff like this a lot?”

  A brittle smile touched her lips for just an instant. “You mean does he show up when I don’t expect him and force everyone else to change their plans to suit his moods? Yeah, I’m afraid so. I figure it’s the price I have to pay to keep him from just walking away from the boys altogether. Sometimes I’m afraid that he’s looking for an excuse to do just that.”

  She paused to look at him, as though willing him to understand something. “I realize it’s an inconvenience, Sam. It’s been getting worse all through Sherry’s pregnancy. And no, if you’re wondering, I don’t think it’s going to get better after the baby is born. But he is their father, and they have a right to maintain a relationship with him. It’s bad enough when he changes plans like this. If he ever just stopped showing up... I really don’t know what that would do to them.”

  “I understand all that,” he said softly, wishing he could do something to erase the unhappiness on her face, but still unwilling to let the subject drop. “But it’s not what I meant. I was talking about the way he just lets himself into your house while you’re all still in bed. I gotta tell you, I was not real happy to see him come walking through the door this morning.”

  She looked startled. “You mean you didn’t let him in?”

  “I didn’t need to, Marsha. He’s got a key.”

  “Oh, shit.” She frowned, thoughtfully. “Of course he does. I should have realized.”

  “You didn’t give it to him?”

  “Well, of course I didn’t. I suppose... one of the boys must have left a key at his house and he decided to keep it. Oh, hell, now I’ll have to see about changing the friggin’ locks again. Maybe I should just get a dog. Maybe that’d deter him.”

  “Maybe.” Sam felt his mood lighten as he sensed an unexpected opportunity. “But you know, I don’t think he’d have let himself in like that if he’d known I was here, either.”

  She smiled at that, her green eyes dancing with amusement. “No. I don’t imagine that could have been a very pleasant surprise for him.”

  “So maybe, if he knew I was going to be here mornings on a more or less regular basis... that might be even more effective than a dog, don’t you think?”

  She looked suddenly wary, and her smile began to dissolve. Sam took a deep breath and hurried on. “Look, I know you’re trying to protect the boys. And, believe me, I respect that. But to tell you the truth, I don’t think they’d be all that upset if I were to move in here with you.”

  Her smile disappeared altogether then. “Maybe not,” she said quietly. “Especially with the way you’ve been acting around them. Taking them places, buying them things, being so nice – even when it’s not especially convenient.”

  “I’ve got news for you, angel. I don’t do it to be nice. I do it because I want to.”

  She sighed, and he thought she sounded a little shaky. But her voice was matter-of-fact when she continued. “I know that. And I kind of wish you wouldn’t, Sam. Because it’ll just... well, it’ll just make it that much harder on them when you’re not around any longer, that’s all.”

  Sam stared at her, stunned to hear her speak about a time when they would not be together as though it were of no consequence. A cold wind seemed to howl in the space that stretched between them. Was she speaking as a psychic now? When she looked into the future, was that what she foresaw for them? He’d told her months ago that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He thought she understood that. He thought it was what she wanted, too. What had happened since then to change things between them?

  “Well, you might want to have a little talk with them about that,” he said when he could speak again. “Because somehow they got this crazy idea that you might actually be happy if we spent more time together.”

  Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “How’s that crazy? They’re right.”

  “They are?” He couldn’t keep the confusion out of his voice.

  “Well, yes, Sam. Of course they are.” Her smile was faintly puzzled, as if she were almost as confused as he. “You know I always enjoy the time we spend together, don’t you?”

  “Why don’t you come here and tell me again,” he suggested weakly, folding her into his arms and holding her close when she complied. “In fact, I could use maybe a few reminders.”

  She laughed then, and the howling receded a little more as she asked, “And do I also need to remind you that I love you?”

  “Definitely,” he told her, as his world steadied itself – at least temporarily. “And while you’re on the subject, maybe you’d better remind yourself about it as well.”

  She pulled away a little and looked at him. “You think that’s the kind of thing I might forget?”

  “I don’t know, angel,” he answered with a sigh. “But right now, I’m not in the mood to take chances.”

  * * * *

  “You did not have to buy her that desk,” Lucy repeated, leaning close to Scout so that she could be heard over the noise of the auction going on in the tent around them.

  Beyond Scout, Lucy’s daughter, M
andy, turned and frowned at her. “But Mom! I need a desk to do my homework on.”

  Scout grinned. “You heard her, she needs it, Luce. Besides, it’s just one little desk. We couldn’t let her go home empty handed, could we? Where’d the fun be in that? I think Kate’s the one you want to watch out for – she’s going to refurnish the whole house on me, if I’m not careful.”

  “Oooh, could I?” Kate, eyes gleaming with excitement, leaned across Mandy to ask.

  Scout smiled at her stepdaughter and shook her head. “No. Kate, you can’t. Just your own room. But if you see anything else you want for that, let me know, okay?”

  “I give up. I wonder if there’s a support group for people with auction addictions.” Lucy leaned towards her daughter again. “Listen, Mandy, why don’t you and Kate go and see about getting yourselves something to eat? Or maybe some more hot cider. There’s nothing else you need here. And, even if you do see something you want, I’m not going to get it for you.”

  “Ohh, Mom.” Mandy scowled, but she took the money Lucy offered her, and she and Kate disappeared into the crowd.

  “Come on, Lucy. Lighten up,” Scout said. “What was the point of bringing the girls here if you weren’t gonna let them bid on anything?”

  Lucy frowned in exasperation. “Scout, you’re not just bidding on stuff. You’re pretty much out to annihilate anyone who goes up against you. Don’t you think you’re being maybe a tad compulsive?”

  Scout laughed. “Oh, yeah. Says the woman who had to have every single bee keeping related item that went on the block. I always knew you were ruthless, Lucy, but jeez!”

  “I am not ruthless.” Lucy shrugged the idea away. But she couldn’t help but smile. She was aware of a deep satisfaction as she considered her purchases. She had almost everything she needed now. Including the real prize - an established hive, all ready to start producing honey as soon as spring rolled around. “I’m just determined. I really wanted that stuff.”