“Good thing you showed up,” he told Desiree, interrupting her inventory of his . . . charms. “Excuse to retire with honor. Joe and I were getting our butts kicked.”
“Only because Joe won’t guard me, because he’s afraid he’s going to hurt a girl. Or maybe just touch her,” Alyssa said, coming up with a laugh of her own. “Hi, Mrs. Foster. I’m glad you could make it. And hey, Desiree.”
Joe looked down at Alyssa with his usual unreadable expression, his shaved head shiny with sweat. “Or maybe because I know that’s the only way you could beat me, and I know you want to win.”
“Oh, you were letting me win out of the goodness of your heart, because I’m such a delicate flower? I think not. You just got challenged to a game of H-O-R-S-E, tough guy. We’ll see who can shoot.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t shoot,” he said calmly. “I said you couldn’t beat me.”
“You’re on. Soon as lunch is over, I’ll be beating you with a stick. Prepare to whimper.”
He smiled a little at that, but didn’t bother to answer.
Alec looked past Desiree and Dixie, then back at Desiree again. “Not a white Corolla.”
“Nope.”
He laughed. “Not a Harley either. But you’re right. A red Mini . . . not what I’d have expected. Maybe I don’t know you as well as I think. Because I’d say you’ve got an unexpected frivolous side. And a feminine side too.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said wryly. “Glad you noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed.” He reached out for the bowl in her arms, and she surrendered it to him. “This must be the famous salad,” he said. “Come on inside. Cold out here.”
“You have a good Christmas, the two of you?” he asked as they walked behind the others up the long driveway to the house. Her grandmother really had lost a step, Desiree had already noticed, was a bright, bustling little sparrow no longer.
Still as cheerful as ever, though. “Oh, we had a wonderful day,” she assured Alec. “Christmas dinner with my special girl, what could be better than that? How about you?”
“Good too. Family time. And a chance to catch up with Mira, because as you’ve heard, our family’s getting a little bigger.”
“She not a basketball player?” Desiree asked.
Alyssa heard that and laughed. “Not nearly tough enough.”
“Hey.” That was Gabe. “She’s plenty tough. Just not aggressive. Two different things, tomboy. Plus, she and Mom are in there cooking and making wedding plans, and that’s serious business on both counts.”
He mounted the steps to the back porch, checked out the tread of his running shoes. “Better take off our shoes, or we’ll get it from Mom.”
“Oh.” Dixie looked around. “I’ll just find someplace to sit.”
“Not you, Mrs. Foster,” Alec said with a smile. “Just us disreputable types.” He pulled off his battered sneakers, tossed them into the pile next to the door. “In fact, I’m feeling a little embarrassed, being all grubby like this when you and Desiree came over looking so pretty. Going to have to go clean up before lunch.”
Desiree looked at him sharply. Was he making fun of her grandmother? All right, the red acrylic sweater with its Christmas-tree applique might not be the most elegant fashion statement, but she knew with what care her grandmother had dressed for this lunch, how pleased she’d been at the invitation. Her best white blouse, her neatest pair of black polyester slacks, the brooch pinned onto the sweater that she pulled out of the closet with delight and ceremony every year, just before she got up on the stepladder to hang the lights. Her grandmother had always made it Christmas, no matter how little had been under the tree, and if Alec was laughing at her . . . she couldn’t stand it.
“I like your pin,” Alec said now, holding the door for the two of them. “It looks like an antique. Is it special?”
“It is,” Dixie beamed, stepping onto the shining yellow linoleum of the laundry room. “Special, I mean, but not an antique. Just old, like me. It was my mother’s. I think the best things are the ones that remind you of someone you love, don’t you?”
“Yes. I do.” He smiled down at her, and Desiree breathed a sigh of relief. It was OK. It was going to be all right.
“This is really good,” she said when they were sitting around the dining room table, both its leaves, Susie Kincaid had told her, in place now to accommodate “my favorite time of year. When my kids come home.” The leaves were certainly needed today, with nine of them crowded around the tablecloth cheerfully printed with green holly sprigs.
“Just Turkey Tetrazzini,” Susie said. “A pretty fancy name for turkey noodle casserole. And leftover everything else, too.”
“Hey. You dissing my favorite meal?” Alec demanded. “I always asked for this when it was my turn to choose our birthday dinner,” he explained. “I never understood why my mom thought it was funny.”
“Just that it’s what you do with leftovers,” Susie said with a laugh. “And we had plenty of those today, even with all these hungry men in the house. Plus Alyssa, who does her share too. But even so, Dave got a little enthusiastic on the size of the turkey this year.”
“It’s good,” Desiree said again. “It tastes a little smoky?”
“That would be the smoker,” Dave told her. “I do the turkey, and I like to try something different every time. And this year that was smoking, thanks to the new barbecue Alec gave me for Father’s Day. And even though I said I didn’t need the big one with all those bells and whistles,” he told his elder son, “I’ll admit that I’ve enjoyed it.”
Alec grinned. “I had to contribute an equal amount to the Relief Fund before he’d even take it. Turned out to be the most expensive Father’s Day present I ever bought. Remind me never to give you and Mom a cruise, Dad, because it just might break me.”
“Speaking of the Relief Fund,” Dave said, “I wanted to tell you, Desiree, congratulations on that scholarship fund of yours. You’ve made quite a difference to at least two girls that I know of.”
“Really. That’s terrific.” That was Mira, Gabe’s fiancée, a quiet woman with a warm smile. “How does it work?”
Desiree shrugged with embarrassment. “It’s still small. It’s just something I set up with our old high school a few years ago, for a girl who’s planning to major in business.”
“The Henry and Dixie Lee Foster Scholarship Fund,” Dixie pronounced proudly. “Although why on earth she’d name it after two people who were lucky even to graduate from high school, I can’t imagine. I wanted her to give it her name. She’s come so far, I thought that’d be an inspiration to those girls.”
“I named it exactly right,” Desiree said. “And I’m pretty clear that I was able to go to college because I had a place to live so I didn’t have to pay for a room, and a scholarship to pay for some of the rest. I just want to give some other girl that same chance. It doesn’t take that much to make the difference between going and not going.”
“Between believing,” Mira said, “and not.”
“That’s it,” Desiree said. “That’s it exactly. When I opened the envelope, when I saw that somebody was willing to give me all that money. Me. That they believed in me. I’ll never forget how I felt when I first read that letter. That’s when I knew it was all going to happen.”
She stopped, embarrassed at the passion that had risen in her voice. “But it’s still small,” she repeated lamely. “Just a start.”
“Can you tell me how to contribute?” Mira asked. “I’d like to help.”
“Sure,” Desiree said with surprise. “It’s always just been me, but that’d be great.”
“I’ll contribute too,” Alyssa said. “Not that I’ve got much, but I’ll give what I can. Better than nothing, right?”
“You don’t have to,” Desiree said. “Not if it’s a hardship.”
“No,” Alyssa said. “I want to. Because, yeah, the true riches are in the wealth of the spirit,” she said with a laughing glance at her parents,
“but try telling yourself that when you’re sixteen, and you’ve got the wrong clothes anyway, and then you get changed for P.E. and you’ve got the completely wrong underwear.”
“‘Hello, Fruit of the Loom,’” she mimicked. “’Three for five dollars! Special on Aisle Five!’ Man, I wanted some of those lacy matching bra and underwear sets, didn’t you, Desiree? I coveted them. Don’t you buy them these days and wish you had a couple of those cheerleaders in the dressing room with you, so you could show them how much better your body looks than theirs now? Don’t you think they should have that event at high school reunions? We should suggest it, because we’d both totally win. Booyah.” She pumped a slim fist.
“Thanks.” Desiree was laughing now, and so was Mira. “The Lacy Underwear Revenge Derby. That would be an awesome event.” And that made the other women laugh harder, and Susie and Dixie were chuckling too, and Alec and Gabe were grinning, and even Dave was smiling a little. And Joe was frowning across the table at Alyssa again. Oh, well. Joe was always frowning.
“Here’s what I want to know,” Desiree asked. She was probably getting way too relaxed here, and she’d probably be sorry on Monday, but too bad. “Why doesn’t it matter to guys, the clothes, I mean? Why didn’t it matter for you, Alec? Because you were obviously cool, and hot, and all that good stuff back then. That was fairly clear. I’m sure you were too,” she told Gabe. “Sorry. I never saw you, so I don’t know.”
“Nope. Never in a league with the pretty boy,” Gabe said. Which brought an immediate, inarticulate protest from Mira that had him laughing and giving her a quick kiss. “I know you like me better,” he told her. “And I’m counting on being able to keep you fooled a little while longer, until I get that ring on your finger and it’s too late to change your mind.”
“I tried,” Alec pointed out. “She didn’t want me. I can’t help it if the woman has no taste. And to answer your question,” he told Desiree, “It’s because a guy can wear a T-shirt and jeans, and he’s good. What we’re wearing today, Gabe, aren’t they about what we wore in high school?”
“In fact,” Gabe answered, “I think these are exactly what we wore in high school. As in, I think I wore this same pair of pants. Opened the drawer today, and there they were. The shirt goes back that far too, for all I know. A little tight, come to think of it.” He plucked at the thin, faded fabric stretching over his broad chest.
“I thought that same thing,” Alec agreed. “Thought, did this shirt shrink? Guess we’ve both got a little bigger since then. We should probably toss some of that stuff.”
“Yes,” Desiree heard herself saying, “that’d probably be a good idea. You guys should definitely stop wearing your shirts so tight.” And was rewarded by a quick, startled look from Alec, followed by a smile that started slow, then grew as he met her eyes.
“I really need to get you all to clean your rooms out,” Susie said with a shake of her head. “That’s pathetic. What do you think this is, a hotel?”
“I think having the wrong hair might have been the worst, though,” Desiree said. Let’s get off the topic of tight T-shirts. What had she been thinking, saying that in front of Alec’s parents? Not to mention Joe. Not to mention him. “Even worse than the underwear.” And now she was talking about underwear again.
“Yeah, the hair was the worst,” she went on in desperation, trying to keep herself on safe ground, “because everybody sees your hair all the time. At least you didn’t have that problem, Alyssa. I always admired your hair.”
“Thanks,” Alyssa said, pushing a glossy dark lock behind her shoulder. “But I admired you. The way you seemed . . . above it all. Like none of it ever got to you, not even the Mean Girls. And I’d like to help with your fund. Call my part the Clothing Stipend. They can buy some new underwear, anyway.”
“And yes,” she said with a glance across the table at Joe. “I said ‘underwear.’ Twice. Maybe even three times. Get over it.”
“Stop baiting him, Alyssa,” Susie said calmly. “You’re terrible.”
“How are your own philanthropy plans coming, Alec?” Dave asked his son, changing the subject. “Get that going yet?”
“Haven’t had a chance to decide exactly how to set it up, or even what I want to do,” Alec said. “Got the money earmarked, just busy, you know, with the new company and all.”
“Earmarked isn’t going to feed any hungry kids,” his father told him bluntly. “Earmarked isn’t going to send anyone to college, or get a family off the streets, or stamp out malaria, or whatever it is you decide to do. And I notice you had time to shop for that fancy new car last spring.”
“Well, actually, I didn’t,” Alec said. “I rode with somebody who had one, he let me drive it, I liked it, so I called a guy and bought it. I have a feeling this wouldn’t be quite that easy.”
“Maybe you should get Desiree to help you set it up,” Gabe suggested, humor lurking at the corners of his mouth. “She seems to have it down.”
“I can’t ask her to do that. She doesn’t work for me, she works with me. There’s a difference.” Alec sounded a little defensive, Desiree thought. A little beleaguered.
“I’d be happy to help, if I can,” she jumped in to assure him. “When you’re ready. I did a lot of research before I set up my little thing. But what, you have a foundation planned?”
“I can hardly avoid it, can I?” he asked ruefully. “Not with my conscience sitting around the table with me.”
“Perils of the PK,” Alyssa said. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
“Preacher’s Kid.” Alec, explaining again. “And,” he sighed, “I think I’ve just figured out where my first contribution is going, because I’m not going to get out of this house without pledging it somewhere. You’d better tell those girls at Chico High to keep their GPAs up, because that scholarship fund is about to get a whole lot bigger.”
“Thanks for coming over,” Alec told Rae an hour later, leaning down so she could see him and putting a hand on the window ledge. Damn, this was a tiny car. He hated to think what would happen if she got into an accident with anything bigger. Which would be just about anything at all. “You too, Mrs. Foster. Nice to catch up with you. And be careful on the drive back to the City tomorrow, Rae. Going to be a zoo out there.”
“You too,” she said. “See you Monday.”
“Yeah. See you then.”
He stood back and held up a hand in farewell as the two of them drove off, walked back toward the house. To the sight of his brother, leaning against the wall, bouncing the basketball on the driveway. Joe and Alyssa were still on dish duty, then.
“You are so screwed,” Gabe said with satisfaction as Alec approached.
“What?”
“You can hardly see straight, you’ve got it so bad. Told you it would happen, and bro, it’s happened. Cover your ears if you don’t want to hear this, because I’m going to say the word. You’re in love.”
“I am not in love.” Alec felt the punch of it straight to his gut. “I’m just . . . attracted.”
Gabe snorted at that with the contempt it deserved. “Tell that to somebody who didn’t just watch you eat the Jell-O salad.”
“What are you talking about?” It was a losing battle, he could feel it, but Alec did his best.
“The squishy green stuff? The mini marshmallows? The maraschino cherries on top? There was Cool-Whip in that, I’ll swear it.”
“So? Maybe I got less finicky while we were out in the backwoods.”
“Nope. That was true love. Because you asked for seconds.”
“Hey.” Alec gave it one last try. “You ate it too.”
“Yup. Twin bond, right there. If you’re going to be suffering, I’m going to be there with you.”
“It doesn’t matter, though.” Alec leaned back against the wall himself with a sigh, and gave it up. “Because it can’t happen. We’re working together.”
“Never stopped you before.”
Alec shrugged irritably. �
�This is different. It wouldn’t look good for me, not to the board, not to the industry, if we did it and everyone found out, but I’d survive it. Hell, I have before. But for her . . . she wouldn’t. She’s supposed to be the adult supervision. She’s got this reputation built up, all based on keeping everybody focused, keeping it all about the business. She gets involved with me while she’s working with me, her credibility’s shot, because of my reputation. It would push her career right off the tracks.”
“And you don’t want to do that to her.”
“Of course I don’t. And it’s worse than that, because I don’t even know if she’s interested. Well,” Alec corrected himself, “I know she isn’t, not interested in pursuing it, I mean.”
“Has she said so?”
“Does she have to say it? She’s made it clear, trust me.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“What can I do? I can’t exactly quit. And I can’t push her into something that’s going to hurt her. I guess I just go on like this. But is that even possible?”
“Is it possible to restrain yourself? I don’t know. Is it? Who else are you sleeping with?”
Alec glared at his brother. “Nobody.”
“Nobody at all? How long are we talking here?”
“More than two months. Not since the day we had our first meeting. Well,” Alec amended, “that day, maybe, there was somebody. That night, I mean. But not since then. I’ve said no. I mean, flat-out no. Which makes no sense, if I’m never going to sleep with Desiree anyway. If I’m never even going to get to touch her. But I couldn’t help it. I got to the point, and I just . . . I said no.”
“You’ve never even touched her?” Gabe zeroed right in on the main point. “Not once? Never kissed her?”
“No. Didn’t I just say? No. We can’t.”
“Never touched the stove,” Gabe mused. “And yet you’re pretty sure it’s hot. Imagine that.”
“You’re supposed to be helping,” Alec charged him. “Why else am I telling you all this? Where’s your Hippocratic oath?”
Nothing Personal (The Kincaids) Page 10
