Whoa. The vision that crossed her mind made her blood pressure hitch. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea here.”
“Who said anything about here?” He grinned.
Music blared from a speaker system. “I’m not sleeping with you, Roger.”
“Ahem.” Nathan stood behind Roger in a bedazzled T-shirt, which was the extent of his costume.
“Hi, Nathan. Nice shirt.” Caroline kept her voice chipper as Roger’s arm clenched a bit on her shoulder. “I love the theme of this party. I’d much rather wash glitter from my hair than goo—though the oily stuff was kind of fun.” She shot a sideways glance at Roger. Nathan would get the wrong idea from her innuendo, but who cared?
“Thanks. This was my idea. The entertainment crew split up the party themes and drew numbers at the beginning of the year to decide who planned which event. I pulled this one.”
“Nice,” Roger answered.
Nathan shrugged. “Hey, we needed to do something classy before everyone disappeared for the holidays. Plus we have to celebrate the end of finals. Don’t forget to get a picture taken in the photo booth over there. It won’t be as professional as Caroline’s, but you need something to remember.” Nathan introduced them to a short blonde with a halo of curls and a silver glittered ring atop her head to match. Caroline and Roger smiled and waved then hooked arms and wandered away.
Green Day blared over the speaker system, and Roger pulled Caroline toward the music. Caroline loved their tunes and happily joined the mass of dancers on the floor, dripping glitter along the way.
An hour later, they were covered in sweat and sparkle. Roger grabbed a few beers from an open ice pit. “It’s suffocating. Let’s cool off outside,” he said. With her hair in damp ringlets, she had no problem following him.
Outside, Roger walked her around the grounds of their fraternity compound. It was aesthetically pleasing in a fancy way, even if the interior was filled with stolen street signs, bar lights, and posters of half-naked women. She’d glanced in a few bedrooms as she sought out the bathroom earlier.
“Caroline, about that sleeping-together thing.” They were going to have that discussion now? Seriously?
“I said I’m not sleeping with you.”
He grinned. “Technically, you already have. I’ve been at your place at least three or four times a week.”
She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count.” She didn’t dare admit she’d thought about giving him a little drawer space to stash a change of clothes.
Roger’s eyes glinted in the flicker of the strings of white light that hung from the fences outside. “Hey, it counts for me. So, what are you doing over the holiday break? Are you heading home or staying?”
Glad for a change of focus, Caroline took a sip of her beer. “I’m going home.”
He hesitated for a second, and she watched his Adam’s apple lunge as he searched for the right words. “I was hoping I could talk you into spending a couple of days at my house.”
“Here?”
He shrugged. “Not exactly. My family always has a big family thing. It’s not a big deal, but you’d probably enjoy yourself—no pressure or anything. I just think they’d, I don’t know, maybe like you?”
Oh God, he wanted her to meet his family? Her face flushed, and the sweat on her forehead instantly dried. That sounded serious.
“I can’t. It’s just my mother and me. My dad’s gone.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. We never really talked about that.”
“No, he’s not dead. He’s just ... I don’t know. Last I heard, he was in France on an assignment. He’s a journalist. I have seen him all of six times since I was about sixteen.”
“So they’re split up?”
She sighed. “Who knows. We’re pretty screwed up. She doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t ask. Pretty weird, huh?”
Their eyes met for a second, and she thought she saw a little pity buried in the depths of his. She didn’t want pity. He watched her over the rim of his Solo cup as he slugged back the rest of his beer. “Maybe she could come, too?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Uh-uh. No way. We hardly know each other, and you’re asking me to bring my family to your house? That’s—crazy. Besides, what’s the point? She doesn’t need to know you. I’ll be gone in a few months. I don’t want her getting attached.”
I don’t even want ME getting attached.
Chapter Seven
Roger loved being home for holidays. It was a little claustrophobic being surrounded by his sisters, but it was also the only time when they all were converged at the house together. He missed that part of his childhood.
He stood in the kitchen sipping iced tea as his mother, Ruth, and youngest sister, Rebecca, chopped vegetables and stirred bowls of unknown goo dubbed—the latest “dip” recipe he was sure to enjoy. All of them were on diets each time he saw them, so veggies were a staple. For them, not him. He could care less about the slight beer belly he’d taken on since freshman year. He patted it affectionately and took another sip of tea. “Where’s Dad?”
His mother’s eyes were swollen and red. She must have been up late working on the food for the day. She shot her gaze at the ceiling. “Work, of course. They’re swamped, and he’s there almost every night. If he’s not there, he’s on the phone with one client or another. If you ask me, they need to hire some help.”
Roger frowned. His father had never missed these celebrations before—he loved having everyone together. Odd.
The door banged open then shut as footsteps thundered up from the basement garage. He must be home.
“Hello!” Definitely not Dad’s voice. There was no mistaking his oldest sibling’s high-pitched squeal for their father’s. She rounded the corner and flung herself against Roger’s chest, sloshing tea down his chin.
“Rhianna, chill. You spilled my drink.” He wiped the splatter from his shirt, tossed the tea glass in the sink, and wrapped her in a bear hug. “How’s that new job going?” Last he’d heard, she was working for a state horticulture agency on a sustainable living project. She always loved a cause—any cause really—and flitted from one to the next.
Rhianna waved a hand. “It’s a job. Did Emma show this time?”
Their middle sister hadn’t attended many of the family events the past couple of years. She’d had a blow-out with their Dad from what Roger heard. She avoided the subject when he called. “Nope. Mom said she’s on a ski trip with a group.”
“When did she learn how to ski?”
Roger laughed, then made his way into the den and plopped onto his dad’s chair, stretching his legs over the worn ottoman. There was something comforting about the spot his father had staked claim to—it was worn with age, yet no one dared move or replace anything. Hearing the sound of a motor, he sat up to see his father’s car pull into the crowded drive. About time the old man showed.
Roger noted the shadow of his father still behind the wheel. Was he talking on his cell?
Roger waved. His father returned the gesture and extricated himself from the car as he stuffed his phone into a pocket. The minute Eric Freeman stepped inside, Roger felt the chill. His mother stayed in the kitchen while his father made the round of hugs with Roger and his sisters.
Something wasn’t right. Both his father and mother wore red-rimmed eyes like hay-fever sufferers. Hers seemed pooled with near-tears. His were just plain red. When they’d finished their meal and caught up on everyone’s lives, his mom picked up dishes and disappeared to the kitchen. The sisters followed. Roger stared at his father. “Dad, what’s going on?”
Mason Eric Freeman, known as Eric by his friends and family, steepled his fingers over his empty plate, his elbows planted firmly on the table. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine. Don’t worry. We’ll talk about it later—after everyone settles down.”
Settles down? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Eric’s cell chimed in his pocket and he excused himself t
o take the call, striding toward the bathroom. He returned forty-five minutes later while they were all lounging in the den. “We have something to tell you,” Eric said. He motioned for Ruth to stand and join him, but she stayed in her seat.
Outside, Conan barked for attention. A reminder that Roger had left him tied to the steps far too long.
“What’s up?” Rebecca asked. Her voice was cheerful, yet Roger registered the dread in her eyes. Whatever they were about to say, she knew more than the rest. Roger narrowed his eyes at her, and she blinked. Was she about to cry?
Eric frowned at his wife. “Are you gonna help me out here? Or do I have to do this myself?”
She shrugged. “Seems to me like you haven’t been doing anything by yourself in quite some time. Nor have you done it with—”
Eric held up a hand. “Stop. Look, guys. I know this is bad timing, but we’re hardly ever together anymore. It seemed better to tell everyone in person rather than trying to track each of you down separately. Your mother and I have agreed—to take some time off.”
Roger sucked in his breath as if punched in the gut. Any time someone leads with the words “bad timing” whatever follows can’t be good.
Rhianna jumped up to hug her mother. “A vacation! That’s awesome. Where are you going?”
“Not that kind of time off, idiot,” Roger snapped.
Ruth patted Rhianna’s arm and wrestled free. Her jaw was taut with forced composure. “No, honey. Your dad’s moving out for a while. He needs to—hell, I don’t know what he needs.” She rushed out. A moment later, the bedroom door closed.
Roger was torn between chasing after his mother and punching his dad in the face. Fortunately, Rhianna ran toward the closed door, leaving them sitting in silence. A glance at his youngest sister confirmed tears streaming down her cheeks. She sat silently staring at her hands. With clenched fists, Roger leveled his gaze on his father. “Dad?”
Eric hung his head as if the word stung. “I just can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry. Roger, you need to grow up—and fast. It’s time you started helping out and paying your share. Your mother’s going to need you.”
“Are you crazy? Or maybe sick or something? You’re our dad for Christ’s sake ... the guy who took me fishing and camping. Hell, you molded me. If this is about Mom, maybe it’s just an empty-nester thing. We’re almost all gone now—that can’t be easy, but it’s no reason to cut and run. You two should celebrate. You should be going somewhere together. Getting to know each other again ... ”
Without lifting his eyes, Eric shook his head. “I can’t do it, son. I’ve tried. It’s just not working.”
“What can’t you do? Pay the bills? I can get a part-time job and pay for school if that’s the issue. I only need one more semester to finish. I—”
Roger’s father turned his back on the room—too cowardly to face them. “The money isn’t the issue. I’ve lived all my life working to make everyone else happy, helping all of you find your way. Not once in all that time have I ever had a chance to find my own. I have to do this—for me. I met someone, Roger, someone who understands me and tries to make me happy. She’s fantastic, and I finally feel like I’m discovering who I am—or at least like I’ve found a path. We work together. I’m leaving my job, and soon we’re going off on our own. We can’t afford to get off to a bad start. Just know that I love you very much.”
Eric Freeman left the room without looking any of his children in the eye. This was for him? Was there nothing about his family that made him happy? It was all too much a burden, all those years together? Jesus, was he for real?
What a fricking piece of work.
Chapter Eight
Caroline’s time with her mother was too brief, but she was glad to return to school and have some privacy. Her mother was a hoverer, and while it was nice to be pampered, it got old in a matter of hours. Refreshed and reenergized, Caroline delved into her new and final semester with vigor. At night she researched and applied to potential internships—and debated texting Roger. Surely a simple “what’s up” would be okay? But she refrained.
Caroline stared at the blank screen of her cell phone. Roger had left for the holidays without a word. Now four weeks had passed without a call. Jesus, he could at least let her know he was okay, right? Just because she had refused to meet his family didn’t mean they couldn’t hang out.
She had intended to just leave Roger alone after he’d asked her—and her mother—to his family celebration. She had freaked and shut it down. What was the point when they’d both graduate in May and go their separate ways? They hadn’t known each other long enough to disrupt their lives for—whatever they had.
Caroline grabbed a pile of mail from her mailbox and thumbed through. The New York Times. Holy cow, was this a response to her internship application? Could she be so lucky? She ripped the envelope open and surveyed the letter. She’d been accepted for one of five traveling news internships, each in a different territory, all of which were a plane flight away. “I got it! Oh my God, I got it!”
She jumped up and down and pumped her fist in the air. Her plan was falling into place. She started to grab her phone to call Roger. But after rereading the words, she hesitated. It was an unpaid internship, with no guarantee of future employment. Still, it was something.
She stuffed the acceptance letter in her camera bag—a nice little reminder of the bright career ahead. She’d seen her father’s journalistic work, and as good as it looked, she knew she could do better—or at least equally well. But things with Roger were somehow unfinished. They’d been hot and heavy before the break, but only in a temporary, college-fling way. Then she blew it.
Why had he ruined everything by asking her to go home with him? Ugh. The thought of meeting his family brought chills to her soul. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to meet them; she just wasn’t ready. There was something permanent about doing so—which seemed irresponsible considering her plans to be gone by summer.
It had been awkward. In the end, Roger just held her gaze for five long seconds. She knew for how long because she’d counted in her head while waiting for him to say something. He hadn’t said a word—just shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets, and strode off without a care. Her pride hadn’t allowed her to ask if he would call while he was gone—or if she’d see him when he returned. She assumed he would.
Bad assumption.
Her phone chimed to remind her of a pending photo session at a fiftieth-anniversary party off-campus. Not only were they married a hell of a long time, but the couple had both served in the military and were decorated vets. This should be fun. A day full of war stories and travel memories. It was sure to make the average two-hour gig stretch into four or five hours.
Caroline hoped not—she wanted to go to the beach before dark. She’d even put her swimsuit on under the skirt and T-shirt she’d donned for the party. The strings of her bikini top were tucked under the neck—no one would notice. She had an hour to get to the party and set up—fifteen minutes was all that she required. She turned the camera on for one last check. Batteries charged. Extra batteries packed. Memory chips in outside pocket. She flipped the button to review the current memory chip and see if she needed to swap it out. Yep, it was full. She popped it out and inserted a spare then checked again.
Oh, crap.
Pictures of Roger’s frat brother, Nathan, stared her in the face from their short moments on campus. She’d never rescheduled his photo session. She scrolled through the snapshots. Wow, not bad considering the deception she’d used to get them. He looked ... nice. She grinned, acknowledging her talent with a camera. Nathan was definitely not nice—but she’d taken some great pictures. She should call him and offer to show them. She popped out the card slid and empty one into place.
With the camera stowed in her car, she decided to end her vow of silence with Roger. After all, she knew what it was like to just stop talking, and it wasn’t a good feeling. Her dad had all but abandoned them in search o
f his big story, and she wouldn’t do the same to people she cared about. She wouldn’t let it happen again, and she wouldn’t let their friendship drift off into the unknown. It was too hurtful.
Five minutes later, she turned into Roger’s driveway and honked. Yeah, it was annoying and lame, but so was his apathy. Conan’s barking thundered through the walls followed by Roger’s voice as he shushed the dog. Caroline stepped from the car and approached the door. Halfway there, the screen screeched open.
“Caroline ... Hi. What are you doing?” His face was shadowed in days of beard growth. His shoulders sagged. Roger appeared ... ill. He looked like hell warmed over.
Her heart twisted. She’d intended to be mad—confrontational, even. But his hair shagged around his cheekbones and dipped into the crevices of the missing dimples. Several days of growth on his chin made him look like he’d been on a four-week hunting trip instead of a family holiday celebration.
Something had happened. His haggard face and soft brown eyes gave her the feeling that an interrogation wouldn’t be appropriate. Perhaps he needed warmth or acceptance instead. She softened her voice. “I was wondering the same thing about you. Are you sick?”
His smile was a façade. “No, I’m good. It’s just—”
Caroline closed the gap between them and stood inches from his face. The shadows of the beard weren’t the only rough edges on Roger; his eyes were clouded and grim. “Look,” she said, “I wanted to explain. I, um, panicked when you asked me to go with you. I wasn’t ready for a big family thing.”
Roger rubbed the back of his neck with his fingers. “Don’t worry about it. In fact, things would have been more awkward with you there. My parents split up.”
Holy crap. No wonder he’d been silent for days. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry—are you okay?” She placed her fingers on his forearm, not sure if he’d jerk away.
“Yep. It’s good. I’m good. All is ... good. He just decided out of the blue that he needed to ‘find his way.’ Can you believe that shit? What the hell does that mean? He’s a grown man. If he doesn’t know who the hell he is or what his fricking way is, it’s a little late now. What the hell has he been doing all this time?”
Need Me Page 5
