by Geri Krotow
The girls both giggled at his tone. Krista’s expression relaxed and she mouthed “I’m sorry” to Winnie, behind Max, out of his view.
Winnie let her tension go; they gave her no choice. She managed a smile and said, “No beer for Sam, okay?”
The girls laughed again and then Max got them focused on their pizza-making.
Winnie studied his movements and her gaze left his hands to wander over his backside. He was clothed in a white T-shirt and jeans. His butt and legs shouted power and sensuality. She was going to have to get a grip or she’d beg him to knead her before the night was over.
Knock it off, Winnie. It was only one night and it’s not happening again.
“Can you uncork the bottle of red I have on the table?” His gaze was back on her as he threw the request over his right shoulder. Their eyes met and she saw the question in his.
The question that had nothing to do with wine.
“I won’t have any. I’m driving.”
“That’s fine, but I’d like a glass with my pizza.”
His lip twitched, and she knew he wanted to smile at her. No, laugh at her. She must seem so self-centered… .
Amusement at her own ridiculousness bubbled up as she turned to go to the dining room and uncork the bottle that sat on an Italian ceramic coaster. She noted the label and suddenly regretted that she was indeed driving.
“Do you like Montepulciano?” His breath fanned her nape.
“Yes, I had some when…when Tom was deployed to Sigonella.” She’d flown to Sicily to meet him and then they’d take the train up north to explore the rest of Italy.
He nodded.
“You were there, weren’t you?” An image of Max in his green Navy flight suit appeared in her memory. Tall as now but a bit lankier, not as filled out. Not nearly as sexy.
“Yeah, I was. I remember how excited Tom was when you agreed to meet him. Anyone would’ve thought you’d given him the world.”
Max was talking about Tom’s absolute joy that she’d flown across the “the pond” to come and see him. They’d been married, what, two years at that point? So long ago. A lifetime. She’d been working as an assistant in the local yarn shop, a stop-gap measure until she could realize her dream of owning a yarn shop in another location on the island. That dream had turned into the lucrative fiber business she owned today.
She’d always believed they’d conceived Krista on the night train between Palermo and Rome—the timing was right.
“I didn’t think I liked wine, especially red wine, until that trip. We stayed at this little place in Tuscany where they had a vineyard and wine cellars on the property. I’ll never forget it.”
Tears moistened her eyes and she sought reassurance in Max’s glance. Instead, she saw a brief flash of some emotion she couldn’t identify before his expression reverted back to its neutral state.
“I picked the Montepulciano because I still have three cases of it, even after moving however many times once I finished that tour. The wine’s kept amazingly well, considering I never took any precautions with it during transport. It still tastes wonderful.”
“I can’t believe they let you ship it!” Usually the Navy movers and their packers forbade alcohol in a change-of-station move.
“We’re allowed a wine shipment from Europe. People ask for it all the time. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”
“How could I when I’ve never lived there? Besides, I’ve been busy with the girls and Whidbey Fibers.”
“Nothing else?”
There was that damned enigmatic look again.
“What are you getting at, Max?”
“Are you dating, Winnie? Have you dated anyone besides me?”
Her stomach jumped as his words registered and she prayed he didn’t notice her eyes, reddened by her restless nights.
“I don’t see that it’s any of your business, Max.”
“Sure it is. I want to know that you’re not bringing just any guy around my daughter. You’re keeping her and her sister safe. But I also wonder what you do for release, Winnie. We all need to let off steam.”
His deep voice lulled her as much as she fought it. “Like I said, that’s no concern of yours, Max. If I need someone to help me with my, uh, needs, I’ll take care of it.” Her voice was steadier than her shaky knees. Unadulterated awareness warmed her, and it felt like she had no vestige of privacy where Max was involved.
“Don’t worry, Win, I’m not handing you my résumé.”
Anger overrode her guilt. “Look, we need to deal with each other for the sake of the girls. But let’s keep our private affairs out of it. This is my life, Max. Not Tom’s, not my parents’ or sister’s or yours—just mine.”
“Not entirely. Not when you’re the mother of two beautiful girls that I care about. Certainly not when one of those girls is my daughter.”
“Are you threatening me, Max?” Her neck itched and she wanted to hit something.
“No threats here, Win. I’m just someone you can count on.”
* * *
KRISTA LIKED TO WATCH Mom and Uncle Max talk to each other. She was seeing a different side of Mom, one she hadn’t seen before. With Uncle Max she had this tough-girl act that Krista wondered about.
Was this the “chemistry” her Honors English teacher had talked about? Like in Romeo and Juliet, which her class was in the middle of reading. Krista didn’t care for the old English words but her teacher, Ms. Francine, made the story interesting and Krista could actually believe the two young people were in love with each other.
She liked boys but just wanted them as friends, at least for now, thank you very much. She didn’t want to ever look as strained as Mom did around Uncle Max. If this was what “chemistry” meant, Krista wasn’t sure she wanted it. But Mom did have that newer, brighter light in her eyes and her cheeks were pinker than normal. That had to be good.
The pizza was soooo yummy. Krista wished they had their own pizza oven. But then she was glad they didn’t. This way, they could spend more time with Uncle Max. Wait until Sunday when she told Aunt Robyn, Grandma and Grandpa about tonight. They’d never believe Mom had finally let another man cook for her. Even if it was only Uncle Max.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“MOM TOOK SAM over to Uncle Max’s and he made us pizza.”
The loud chatter around Winnie’s parents’ Sunday dinner table immediately quieted and all eyes were on Krista. Winnie’s good mood melted into her stomach.
It had been a nice weekend; really, it had. On Saturday Winnie took advantage of not having to worry about Sam being alone for so many hours. She and the girls went to a shopping center off-island, near Seattle. They’d laughed into the brisk wind as the ferry plowed through the rough water so typical of spring. Winnie didn’t think about Max once—well, maybe she thought about him now and then, but she was able to push her thoughts aside and focus on the girls.
She planned to pick up Sam from Max’s later this afternoon spending the day at her parents’ home in Anacortes. No one had paid any unusual attention to her.
Until Krista piped up with that comment about Friday night.
Since her family never heard about her spending time with any man who could be remotely considered a romantic prospect, Krista’s declaration had everyone staring at Winnie.
Winnie took it all in. Her mother, Barbara, sat at one end of the table, her eyes bright and her smile content as she had all her chicks in her nest for the afternoon. Krista sat between her brothers Evan and Eddie, who were across from Maeve, Winnie, Robyn and Doug. Doug, Robyn’s husband, played his usual role of the strong silent type.
Evan and Eddie were studying to be Army and Navy doctors, respectively, at the Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences in Bethesda, Maryland. Evan had graduated last year and was in his residency at Johns Hopkins for gastroenterology. Eddie still had a year of medical school to finish. They’d managed to get the weekend off together and surprised her parents on Thursday night. They
went back east in the morning.
“Um, sorry, Mom.” Krista shot her an apologetic look. She clearly knew she’d opened a can of worms. Winnie sighed. Krista was thirteen. Thirteen-year-olds blurted out inappropriate things all the time. It was in the young-teen job description.
“Uncle Max?” Robyn, seated next to Winnie, whispered under her breath.
“Who’s Max? The Max we knew?” Barbara’s eyebrows were up, along with her maternal radar.
Crap.
“Max Ford, as in Tom’s best friend.” Evan spoke around a mouthful of green-bean casserole. Didn’t they feed their medical residents at the National Institute of Health?
“As in Lieutenant Max Ford, the man who was your CACO?” Hugh spoke quietly from the head of the table. Winnie looked at her dad. No judging, no recrimination, just honest inquisitiveness.
“Yeah. As in my former CACO. And he’s a Commander now. He had command of his own squadron.”
“We know that, honey. We saw that he was injured pretty badly over there, too. On the news they said he’s a hero.” Good old Dad, strong and steady.
“He made you pizza? Where does he live?” Barbara faced Krista. No doubt she thought her granddaughter would be a softer target than Winnie.
Forget it, Mom. Winnie wasn’t giving her a chance to interrogate Krista.
“He lives in Dugualla Bay, Mom. We went by to drop off Sam on Friday night and he invited us in for dinner. He learned how to make authentic Neapolitan pizza during his deployment to Italy.”
“Why were you dropping Sam off with him?”
“When did he move back here?”
Her younger brothers assaulted her with questions in their greed to know more about Max. Evan and Eddie had idolized him ever since Tom had introduced them back in the days before Krista was born. Max and Tom were the reason both brothers had chosen the military to pursue their medical training.
Back when life was simpler—just Winnie and Tom—he’d served as a mentor to all her siblings, but especially her brothers. He’d introduced them to his Navy buddies and they saw the most of Max since he and Tom spent a lot of time together off-duty. Tom and Max had taken the boys to Air Shows, video-gaming conventions and more—whatever they’d all enjoy. To Evan and Eddie, Tom could do no wrong. His death had left a big hole in their lives, too.
Yet they’d all survived, one way or another. Her brothers had dried their tears and gone to the service academies. Evan went to West Point in New York and Eddie went to the Naval Academy in Annapolis. They’d both done their first tours with squadrons and were now medical professionals.
They were smart, and incredible doctors. But they were still pains in the butt as brothers.
She swore under her breath. This was so not going to turn into an inquisition.
“Why I took Sam over there’s none of your business. You know my therapy work is confidential.”
“So Max is one of your clients?” Evan, the blond brother who always wore a smile on his face, ignored her confidentiality comment, which irked her since as a doctor he should understand better than anyone.
“He survived the attack when he saved his squadron. The paper never mentioned exactly how he’d been hurt,” Eddie, dark-haired and brooding, said. He concentrated on peeling the label from his bottle of beer.
“Why are you asking me these questions if you already know the answers?” Winnie took a gulp of cold water. “As I said, it’s confidential. And I never said he was a client. You assumed it.”
Krista sat quietly between her two uncles, her face red and her eyes obviously wet. Winnie reached across the table to take her hand, but Krista put her hand in her lap.
“Honey, it’s okay.”
Krista looked out from under her long lashes. “I didn’t mean to start a war. Jeez.”
“Honey, you didn’t start anything.” Barbara squeezed Krista’s shoulder, then turned back to Winnie.
Finally, Grandma comes to her senses.
“How long have you been seeing Max, Winnie?”
Or maybe not.
“I’m not seeing him, Mom. We’re just working together on a project.” Maybe this little lie would throw Mom off the trail. And it wasn’t a lie; they were working on a project together. One that would allow Maeve to get to know her father. But she couldn’t discuss her volunteer work with Max and Sam—it would be a violation of client confidentiality.
Double crap.
“A project, eh?” Barbara wasn’t placated, not by a long shot. “What did he think about your family? Did he even know you had another daughter?” Bitterness laced her words. Mom had never gotten over Winnie’s refusal to share information about Maeve’s biological beginnings.
“He’s met Maeve, and he wasn’t as fazed as you apparently still are.”
In fact, he’d had every reason to be a lot more affected, to be angry, to throw in her face the fact that he’d been there for her during her darkest hours.
But Max never threw the past in her face. Ever.
It would be easier on her guilty conscience if he’d taken his anger and disappointment out on her. He had every right to. But her mother did not.
“Mom, please, let’s stop right there.”
“Okay, ladies, keep it simple.” Hugh held up his hands.
“It’s not just Mom and Winnie, Dad. Eddie and Evan have their hands in the pot, too.” Robyn came to her rescue, but Winnie noted that Doug remained silent. He’d been part of the family for more than ten years and had learned to survive by staying out of family discussions whenever possible.
“Still, it’s Sunday and this is supposed to be a nice, quiet family time,” Hugh said.
“Mommy, I don’t want this dinner!” Brendan slammed his hands down next to his plate, where the tot-size silverware rested. The fork tines pressed into his fists and he wailed.
“Come here, Brendan, and calm down.” Robyn reached for him and Winnie envied her the distraction from the firing squad.
“You’re telling me Max had no concern whatsoever about how you had a child—apparently without a father around?”
“Mother, I’m going to ignore that for the sake of family unity.” Winnie only called Barb “Mother” when she was ready to explode with anger.
Barbara knew that. She pressed forward, anyway.
“Max was Tom’s best friend, after all, wasn’t he? Of course he’d want to know who the father was. What did you tell him?”
Winnie bit her tongue and clenched her napkin, hidden beneath the linen tablecloth.
“What did you tell him, Winnie?” Eddie’s eyes reflected his desire to know the biggest secret the family had. Winnie stared at Eddie—then made her fatal mistake.
She looked at Maeve; Eddie’s glance followed. It was so obvious. Maeve had “Max” stamped all over her.
“Holy shit.” Eddie whistled and shook his head.
“What?” Barb hated not being in on things.
Eddie shook his head again.
Hugh missed nothing. “If Maeve’s father is someone we know, Winnie, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell us.”
The expression on Barb’s face reflected her confusion.
“What am I not getting here? We’re talking about Max, then Maeve’s father, then— Oh. My. Gosh!” Her eyes grew so round Winnie was positive they were going to pop out and fly across the table.
All heads turned toward Maeve.
She started crying.
All eyes were back on Winnie.
“Max is Maeve’s father.” Barbara whispered the proclamation.
“Yes. Max is Maeve’s father.” Winnie met her mother’s gaze, then cast her glance at Krista, who sat there silent, gazing at her plate.
You have to talk to her alone, away from this chaos.
“Krista, did you know this?” Barb sought verification that she wasn’t alone in her confusion.
Krista slowly nodded, and Barb made a weird yelping sound as if holding back a screech of frustration.
Robyn waved h
er hands in front of her face. “Can we please keep calm and—”
“Carry on?” Eddie interrupted, which cracked up all the men at the table. Their laughter made Winnie want to cry. But she did see Krista’s weak smile and knew that, somehow, it would all work out.
“What’s the matter, Maeve? Don’t you like my mashed potatoes anymore?” Barb chose to distract herself with her granddaughter. She put her face up to Maeve’s, hand poised to place another heaping spoonful of the gravy-laden spuds into the child’s mouth. But Maeve’s mouth was puckered in disgust and her arm flexed straight in front of her as if fending off evil spirits.
“No!”
“Mom, leave her be. She needs her nap.” Barb’s insistence that everyone eat together, no matter what, was well-intentioned, but the heat of the crowded dining room made sweat drip between Winnie’s shoulder blades. It felt like winter with the warmth of a roaring woodstove instead of spring. Except that the cool wind had blown away the morning fog, and the sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sunlight was in short supply during the winters, and it was always a relief when the days started to grow longer.
“Maybe Brendan and Maeve will take a nap together?” Robyn elbowed Winnie, then smiled at her as she asked the question.
“Sure, why don’t we try that?” she said in relief as she grabbed onto Robyn’s lifeline.
“But by the time you get back, dinner will be cold.” Barb frowned, and Hugh kept an eye on his wife. Krista looked content as her uncles doted on her. Winnie said a silent thanks that at least her brothers realized the impact of this conversation on Krista’s emotions.
“We’ll put our plates in the microwave,” Winnie said. Robyn had already left the room and she quickly followed.
* * *
KRISTA REMAINED AT THE table with her uncles and grandparents. She felt so stupid!
“How’s soccer, Krista? Your mom tells me you’re a natural at it.” Eddie always knew what she liked to talk about.
“You say that every year, Uncle Eddie.”
“No, he doesn’t, squirt. When you were four years old all we talked about was how terrible you were.” Uncle Evan’s smirk made her giggle. But she still felt badly about mentioning Uncle Max at the table.
