by Gina Wilkins
“So you did quarrel.”
Banner sighed gustily. “We did not quarrel. It was just…well, I think she took offense at something I said. Maybe. Though to be honest, I'm not sure what it was that irritated her.”
“Surely you have a clue.”
“Not really.” Sitting on the other side of the table from his brother, Banner picked at his food without enthusiasm. “I said I wouldn't mind her dropping by occasionally when she makes trips to Springfield to visit her relatives. I made it clear, actually, that I hoped she would.”
Tim stared at him. “You said it just that way?”
“Well…yeah. Pretty much.”
“And you can't figure out why she might have taken offense.”
“No.”
Shaking his head in apparent disgust, Tim reached for his coffee cup. “And to think I came to you for advice.”
Banner deliberately set down his fork. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Even though I only met Lucy yesterday, I can't imagine she would be satisfied with being an occasional visitor in your life. It was obvious to me that she's crazy about you. She probably needs to believe you feel the same way about her. And I can't imagine that you wouldn't feel the same way-she's great. A little bossy, but even that part of her is well intentioned.”
Banner's fist tightened around his fork as he forced himself to keep his expression impassive. “Of course she's great. But really, Tim, can you see her being interested in me for very long? She's everything I'm not. I couldn't have found anyone more my opposite if I'd gone looking.”
“You thought you had a lot in common with your ex-wife, but that certainly didn't last long. Maybe what you need is someone different from you, have you ever considered that?”
“I don't need anyone,” Banner shot back. “I've gotten along just fine on my own.”
“You're scared.” Tim looked stunned by the realization. “Funny, I didn't think anything ever scared you, but you are. You're afraid to take the risk of a relationship with Lucy.”
Because Tim had unconsciously echoed part of Lucy's goodbye note, Banner scowled. “That's bull.”
“I don't think so. If there's one thing I recognize it's fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of change. I've struggled with all of them lately.”
Banner saw no correlation at all between his situation and Tim's. Tim was making sweeping changes because he had been dissatisfied with his life. Banner, on the other hand, was perfectly content with the way things had been for the past couple of years. He had his work, his home, his dog. When he wanted companionship, he had Polston or the guys down at the pool hall. If he ever felt lonely, he reminded himself that solitude was better than being the odd guy out in a crowd.
He wasn't afraid of change, he assured himself. He just saw no need to fix what hadn't been broken. His heart, for example.
And that errant thought annoyed him so much that his scowl deepened even more. “Eat your breakfast,” he muttered. “Your eggs are getting cold.”
Tim obligingly stuffed a bite of bacon into his mouth, but Banner could tell it wouldn't be long before the interrogation began again. He was rather relieved when someone knocked on the front door.
“Maybe it's Lucy,” Tim said after a hasty swallow. “Maybe she changed her mind.”
But Banner didn't think so. More likely it was Polston or one of the other guys with an invitation for him to watch the New Year's Day games or shoot some pool or something. Lucy's note had been too firm and pointed to have been written on a quickly regretted impulse.
The way things had been going lately, he shouldn't have been surprised to find another member of his family on his doorstep. At least it wasn't his father, he thought, stepping aside to let his sister enter.
“I don't have to ask if Tim's here,” Brenda said, tossing her thick brown bob away from her face to look at him. “I saw his SUV outside.”
“He's in the kitchen.”
“Dad said you refuse to help us talk Tim into going back to school.”
“As I've said to everyone who asked, it's none of my business whether Tim goes back to school. He's a grown man. It's his choice.”
“I wouldn't listen if he did try to nag me to go back,”
Tim said from the doorway. “Rick understands that I've made my decision and no one is going to talk me out of it. Not Dad, not Mom, and not you, Brenda. Would you listen if I tried to talk you into quitting medical school?”
“But you can't even tell us what it is you do want,” she argued passionately, her blue eyes glinting with a combination of frustration and concern. “What are you going to do? How are you going to support yourself?”
“I'll find a job swinging a hammer or flipping burgers, if I have to,” he retorted. “I'm not entirely incompetent, you know.”
“And you would be happier doing one of those things than going to law school?”
“I would be happier doing either of those things than going to law school,” he said, looking and sounding utterly sincere.
“And what about Mom and Dad? How are you going to make things right with them? You said some very harsh things to them when you walked out.”
“All I said was the truth. That they had no right to try to run my life. To choose my career, my friends, my future path. Maybe it works for you, but I need to control my own destiny.”
Taking offense, Brenda planted her fists on her slender hips. “I happen to like the career I've chosen. The fact that our parents approve of my choice doesn't mean they pressured me into it.”
“Fine. And they aren't pressuring me into anything, either.”
“Look, I know Dad can come across as domineering and intolerant, but surely you don't want to give up on your relationship with him.”
Tim gave a sullen shrug that was probably intended to mask any feelings of hurt or loss. “Why shouldn't I? It seems to have worked for Rick.”
“Don't pull me into this,” Banner said immediately. “I'm no role model. Whatever problems you have with your father have nothing to do with me.”
“'Your”' father,” Brenda repeated, turning on him now. “Can't you even acknowledge that he's our father?”
Banner shrugged. “He's the one who created that rift, when I made it clear that I make my own decisions.”
“And because you felt rejected by him, you've holed up here in your solitude and your surliness. Well, you know what, Rick? Tim and I never rejected you. It was the other way around. You make a big production of being the family outcast, but you're the one who pushes away everyone who tries to love you. Maybe that works for you, but I don't want Tim to end up alone and bitter. And I-”
Her voice broke, but she brought it under control long enough to finish, “I don't want to lose the only brother who ever loved me back.”
Tim's young face softened. “You know I love you, Brenda. This has nothing to do with my feelings for you, and I'm not going to let it put a rift between us.”
“I want you to be happy, Tim. And I don't want you to do anything you'll regret just to prove something to Dad.”
Tim put both hands on his sister's shoulders, looking down at her from his six-inch advantage in height. “I need you to trust me to know what's best for myself, Brenda. And I need you to support me in the choices I make. Just as I'll always support you in whatever you want to do.”
She sighed, her shoulders sagging a bit in surrender. “All right. If this is really what you want, I won't nag you anymore about it. But I do hope you try to keep the lines of communication open with the family.”
“As long as they give me the freedom to make my own decisions, I can deal with the other baggage. I'm not closing the door on the family, I just need a little space right now. Okay?”
She nodded. “Will you promise to let me know if you need anything? You can always go back to school if you change your mind, you know. Promise you won't let pride stop you from acting if you decide you made a mistake.”
Tim gave h
er a reassuring smile. “I promise-even though I know I'm not making a mistake.”
Banner watched as they hugged.
Biting her lip, Brenda turned to Banner after Tim released her. “I'm sorry about snapping at you,” she said, her tone stiff. “I was upset.”
“Forget it.”
She drew a deep breath, her shoulders held with rather defensive dignity. “I promised Tim I wouldn't nag him anymore. I'll give you the same courtesy. If you want me to leave you alone, I will.”
“I don't want you to leave me alone,” he answered gruffly, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets. “You're my sister, too, damn it.”
She caught her breath, her eyes suddenly shimmering with a hint of tears. “I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.”
He realized too late what he had triggered with his imprudent comment. He braced his feet as Brenda threw herself at him and locked her arms around his waist in a fervent hug. Awkwardly he patted her back.
Lifting her head, she gave him a tremulous smile. “I know you would rather be nibbled by ducks than be hugged by your sister, but I couldn't help it. That was such a sweet thing to say.”
Grumbling something incoherent in lieu of thinking of a real response, he stepped back and pushed his hands into his pockets again. And then he said, “Are you hungry? Tim and I were just having breakfast.”
“I'd take some coffee.”
“Rick makes really good coffee,” Tim offered, waving an arm toward the kitchen. “He's a great cook, actually.”
Something in the young man's voice made Banner remember what Lucy had said about Tim having a touch of hero worship for his older brother. That possibility made him so uncomfortable that he frowned as he led them into the kitchen.
“Good Lord. What is that?” Brenda asked, staring in disbelief at the beast waiting patiently by the back door.
“That's Banner's dog, Hulk,” Tim replied as Banner crossed the room to let the dog outside.
“Oh. Well, he's, uh…” Brenda's voice faded as she was unable to come up with an appropriate adjective.
“Ugly,” Banner supplied in resignation. “But he's a good dog.”
“I'm sure he is.”
“Lucy said he's not really ugly, he's just making a fashion statement,” Tim said with a grin.
Brenda looked at him in curiosity. “Who's Lucy?”
“Rick's girlfriend. Or, at least, she would be if he'd make half an effort to keep her.”
Pouring a cup of coffee for Brenda, Banner gave Tim a warning look. “Don't start.”
“What's she like?” Brenda asked Tim, probably knowing better than to ask Banner.
“She's great. Funny and warm and bossy and cheerful. She has a doctorate in mathematics but she looks like a college student. She looks at Rick the way a chocoholic gazes at a hot-fudge sundae. The way an astronomer studies a newly discovered galaxy. The way an art lover stares at an original Van Gogh found hidden in some old lady's attic. The way…”
“That's enough, Tim,” Banner growled, feeling his cheeks warm.
“I get the picture,” Brenda assured them. “I'd like to meet her sometime.”
“That,” Tim said with a look of bravado, “is entirely up to Rick, I think.”
“Drink your coffee,” Banner ordered with a touch of desperation.
He didn't believe for a minute that Lucy had looked at him the way Tim had described it, of course. Nor did he accept Brenda's accusation that he was the one who had been preemptively rejecting everyone for the past few years, rather than the other way around.
But his siblings had certainly given him some things to think about.
Three weeks into the new year, Banner had settled back into his old routines. He rose early, had his breakfast, headed out to the workshop for a long day's hard work. He ate his meals alone in front of the TV, while his dog snored on the hearth rug. He went running with Polston a couple of times when the weather permitted, making it very clear beforehand that they weren't to talk about Lucy. Because Polston had his own secrets, that wasn't a problem.
Tim called a couple of times. He had found an apartment in Nashville and was working as a substitute high school history teacher until he found a permanent job that appealed to him. He sounded satisfied with his choices and eager to move on to new experiences. Banner believed his kid brother was going to end up just fine, no matter what he ultimately decided to do.
He wished he could say the same for himself.
He wasn't sleeping. No matter how hard he worked, nor how tired he was when he crawled into bed, he managed only a couple of hours of restless dozing a night before he was wide awake again, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about Lucy. He tried sleeping on the couch, but that didn't help, since he could still picture her sleeping there. Same with the couch in the office. Even spreading his sleeping bag in front of the fireplace held too many memories.
He hadn't missed Katrina this way, he thought with a wince as he almost ruined yet another white pine spindle by letting his attention wander away from his belt sander. How could he miss a woman he barely knew more than he had missed the one who had been his wife? And how much worse would it have been if he'd lost Lucy after becoming even more accustomed to having her in his life?
It was that last thought that made him even more convinced she had done them both a favor by walking out the way she had.
“I think it's time for plan B.”
Even though the woman on the other end of the telephone line couldn't see her, Lucy shook her head adamantly. “No. Not yet.”
“It's been more than a month. He's not going to call you.”
“He might.”
“I don't think so, Lucy. He's too guarded. Too shy.”
Lucy sighed. “Maybe he's not interested.”
“No way,” Joan said, sounding absolutely positive. “He was in love with you before Christmas Eve ended. He just needs some pushing.”
“Any suggestions?”
“Maybe I should call him. You know, thank him again for taking us in at Christmas. Ask him if he's heard from you. Casually mention that you would love to hear from him.”
“Too subtle. It's going to take something far more direct.”
“Such as…?”
“I'll probably have to go to him again. I'm thinking about hitting him over the head with a club and dragging him off by the hair.”
Joan laughed. “I don't think I'll try that with Bobby Ray-even though he certainly has enough hair to get a good hold on. But he's much too heavy for me to drag anywhere.”
“As if you'd have to,” Lucy said a bit enviously. “Bobby Ray has no trouble at all making his feelings for you known.”
Joan giggled a bit self-consciously. “No, I suppose he doesn't.”
“Oh, there's someone at the door. I'll call you later, okay?”
“Sure. In the meantime, maybe you should be buffing your club.”
Chuckling, Lucy disconnected the call and headed for the door. She pushed a hand through her tumbled hair on the way, but that was the extent of her primping. She figured her fitted gray T-shirt and gray-piped, black yoga pants looked respectable enough for the delivery guy or friendly neighbor or whoever she would find on the other side of her door.
Of course, if she had known she would find Banner standing there, she might have spent a few more moments in front of the mirror.
“You're here,” she said blankly, gaping up at him.
He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest, the very picture of handsome nonchalance. “You might have mentioned that you have an unlisted telephone number. And that your home address is a well-kept secret. You never told me your aunt and uncle's last name. And the people at the university gave me your office number, but since you didn't work today, that wasn't particularly helpful.”
Her heart was doing a frantic tap dance inside her chest, but she managed to speak fairly evenly. “So how did you find me?”
“
I had to make a few dozen phone calls. I ended up tracking down your father in Texas.”
“You talked to my father?” she said, finding it hard to get past that tidbit.
“Yeah. You mentioned that he was stationed at Fort Hood. He seemed like a nice guy. A little suspicious, maybe, but I guess I can't blame him for that.”
She had deliberately left without giving him her number or address, figuring that if he wanted to talk to her badly enough, he should have to work for it a bit. But she had assumed he would call her at her job, since he knew where she worked. She hadn't expected him to just show up at her home on a Saturday afternoon, five whole weeks after she slipped out of his bed.
“It's so good to see you,” she said, almost afraid to look away from him, just in case he disappeared.
He straightened and dropped his arms, letting a glimpse of emotion show in his eyes now. “Maybe you could ask me in?”
Quickly moving out of the doorway, she motioned him inside. “Please.”
He closed the door behind him, then reached into his jacket pocket. “I brought something with me.”
She tilted her head in curiosity. “What is it?”
He pulled out a sprig of greenery. “Does mistletoe still work after Christmas?”
She felt her smile turn radiant. “Absolutely.”
She didn't give him a chance to hold the mistletoe over her head. Throwing herself at him, she lifted her face to his to kiss him with all the emotion that had been building in her during the long weeks she had been away from him.
Tossing the sprig to one side, he gathered her into his arms, holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe-not that she would have even considered complaining. This was exactly the way she had dreamed of him holding her.
“I think I like your apartment.”
Lucy laughed softly and propped herself on one elbow to study Banner's face. “You think?”
His hard mouth softened with a faint smile. “I didn't get a chance to see much of it.”
“Are you saying I dragged you into bed?”
“Something like that.”
She gave a satisfied nod. “Plan B,” she murmured. “And I didn't even need a club.”
He didn't even bother to ask for an explanation. Instead he pulled her face back down to his and kissed her again.
