When the storm passed, he stroked the hair off her face and gave her a puzzled smile. “Why were you afraid to tell me about the money?”
With a hiccup, she wiped her eyes on the corner of the sheet. “I didn’t want you to think I was the kind of woman who… who could be paid off like that. That I was a terrible person or a bad mother. The money seemed like… I don’t know… ammunition if… if…” She slid her eyes away from his, heat rising in her cheeks.
“If what?” He tilted his head to peer into her face. “If I’d decided to fight you for custody?”
Nodding slowly, she met his eyes again. “Yes.”
“Oh, baby.” He tugged her back into his arms and rubbed his cheek against her hair. “How did I turn into such a bad guy over the years? Have you been tucked away up here playing Dr. Frankenstein with your memories of me? Did you forget the day we made that kid?”
“No.” She slid her arms around his waist and breathed in the warm male scent of him, letting the crisp hair on his chest tickle her nose. “That day is crystal clear, but I’ve seen your life since then and what you’ve become. I’m so proud of you, so in awe of what you’ve accomplished. Your life is enormous. My own reality is very different. And quite small.”
With a sigh, he swept her up in his arms, carried her to the bed, and curved his body around hers. “We can expand your reality, Carrie,” he whispered. “Just say yes.”
“Slow down, my love.” She turned in his arms, untangling the sheet and tossing it aside. “You need to know Jack first.” Carrie longed to fling her arms around him and cry, yes, yes, yes, reassure him that she and Jack were his forever, but the very thought of blending their lives overwhelmed her. Apprehension about how Jack would react on Sunday nipped at her mind even as she cuddled closer to Liam. “We’ve got time.”
“Okay, we’ll wait for Jack to make it official,” he said. “God knows I’m hell at waiting. I’ll wait forever if I have to. But for the record, I’d rather not wait another minute.” He captured her lips in a fierce kiss.
She met his tongue with her own as she curled her fingers in his hair. Several long blissful moments later, he lifted his head. Touching his lips to her cheek and then her ear, he murmured, “You are planning on saying yes, right?”
That deep, sensual voice sent a zing of rapture straight through her, quashing those tiny seeds of doubt that had already started to take root in the back of her mind.
This can work. I’ll find a way to make it work. I can’t lose him again. After we tell Jack, we’ll figure it out.
Sliding down in the bed, she pulled him over her, wrapping her arms and legs around him and drawing his lips down to hers.
“Come here, Maestro.” She kissed him and then kissed him again. “The only thing I’ve got planned at the moment is making love to you.”
EIGHTEEN
“God, I’m nervous as hell.”
Liam’s gut twisted with apprehension while Carrie parked her Jeep in the pine-encircled lot at Lawson Music Camp. Pulling down the visor, he checked himself in the mirror, shoving his hair back, smoothing the collar of the lightweight tan sports jacket he wore over a brown T-shirt and jeans.
“Maybe I should’ve worn a tie.”
“Not with that outfit,” she teased as she pulled the key out of the ignition and gave him a bracing smile. “Come on, Liam, you’ve had dinner at the White House. This is one teenager. It’ll be fine.”
“I wasn’t the missing father of anyone at the White House.”
Sweat was trickling down his ribs. Damn. Opening the car door, he stepped out onto the gravel and inhaled the pine and cedar-scented air. Michigan smelled great—at least this part of it. He’d never been in a place so fresh. Another deep breath.
He was ready to face his dragons.
Why does it feel like that? I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been before any performance.
But this wasn’t a performance—it was real life. He was meeting his fifteen-year-old son for the very first time, and he had no idea what to expect.
Carrie—dressed in an airy tie-dyed skirt that swirled around her calves and a soft yellow shirt tied at the waist—met him behind the car and took his hand. “Take it easy. Or you’re going to make me nervous too.”
“Why should you be nervous?” he asked, squeezing her hand. “You’ve already met him.”
“You’re cute.” Wrinkling her nose at him, she gave his arm a pat. “I’m the one who kept him from you all these years. He may decide I’m the wicked witch of western Michigan.” Her smile faded. “Oh great. Now I am nervous.”
“Good. At least I’m not alone.”
He slung his arm around her shoulder as they walked slowly toward the rustic log structure that housed Lawson’s dining hall and offices. He scanned the area. They were early, so not many parents had arrived yet. Kids clustered around an open-air band shell perched on a hill behind the dining hall. Tidy cabins flanked the log building, nestled in the pines.
“Damn,” he said. “This is a terrific facility.”
“The lake’s down there.” Stopping on the gravel path, Carrie pointed to the right of the band shell. “Basketball, tennis courts, and a baseball diamond are back there.” Turning, she indicated an area below the parking lot. “Dave encourages a lot of physical activity because most of these kids are more artistic than athletic. He tries to get them young so he can help them have some balance. Jack learned to play basketball and baseball here, as well as how to canoe. He loved it as a camper. He’s been so excited to be a counselor this year.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Liam tried to look as if he belonged as they approached the dining hall. Happy voices drifted out the screen door.
You do belong here. You do belong here.
The mantra looped in his head as he watched a curly-headed boy talking eagerly to a man who was obviously his dad. The meeting with his own son would be very different from the other fathers here today. A chill shuddered through him as they made their way around long tables to the offices at the rear of the building.
“Hey, you okay?” Carrie peered into his face as she pulled him into the hallway that led to Dave Lawson’s office. She had already called Dave from the car to ask if they could meet privately with Jack for a few minutes. “You’re white as a sheet.”
Standing arrow straight in the middle of the hallway, Liam shook his head. “All the confidence I worked up on the ride here has suddenly abandoned me. What if he hates me? What if he hates both of us? He’s fifteen. Duncan says they’re very strange at fifteen.”
“It’ll be okay,” she reassured him. “I know Jack. If he could go into a department store and pick out a father, it would be you.” With a wink, she added, “Well, or Eric Clapton or John Williams... or maybe Dirk Pitt.” Lifting up on her toes, she planted a kiss on his lips. “Liam, he’s a warm, loving, generous kid. Just like his father.”
He hugged her and their lips met briefly again. “I hope... Dirk Pitt?” His brow furrowed. “Clive Cussler’s superhero? Seriously?”
“You might think about taking up scuba diving.” Giving him a wide-eyed innocent smile, she turned as Dave Lawson came out of his office.
“Hey, Carrie! Maestro! Great to see you!” He extended his hand to Liam. “My office is yours. I sent someone to get Jack. He’ll probably come in my back door. He’s up at the center.” Dave’s head tilt indicated the open-air band shell on the hill behind the big dining hall. He had to be curious, but he didn’t ask any questions, merely patted Carrie’s shoulder and left with a quick smile.
After clearing his throat with a little nervous cough, Liam said, “I’m gonna wait out here so you can just... you know... prepare him…” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned his back against the wall near Dave’s door.
She touched her lips to his cheek, then went in to see her son.
Their son…
“Hi, baby,” she greeted Jack as he came through the back door of the office.
Hi
s auburn hair unruly, he was dressed in cargo shorts and a Lawson T-shirt, scruffy flip-flops on his feet. One of his big toenails was bruised. Flip-flops. Every summer, the kid had a black-and-blue toenail from stubbing his toes while wearing the silly things.
“Mom, hey!” He hugged her. “You’re early. Where’s Elly? Will he be here for the finale? Jelly Roll Morton.” His gray eyes, so like Liam’s, shined. “‘The King Porter Stomp.’ It’s epic!”
“I can’t wait to hear it. Eliot’s coming on his own. I need to talk to you, Jack.” She nodded to the sofa. “Let’s sit down, okay?”
“What’s up?” His eyes narrowed. “Is everyone okay? Uncle Noah? Aunt Margie?”
“Everybody’s fine, honey. I need to talk to you, that’s all. Can you sit?” Smiling, she patted the cushion next to her. “You’re towering over me.”
He obeyed. “What?”
Picking up his hand, she turned it over, matching it to her own. It was so much like Liam’s with a wide palm and long fingers. She was trying to find the right words. Swallowing, she started to speak but stopped.
In typical Jack fashion, he immediately began worrying about her. “Are you okay?” He asked the question, peering into her face, obviously trying to read her downcast eyes.
He was getting scared, she could tell, so she gave him a quick hug. “Yes, I’m fine. S–something’s come up that I need to tell you about.” With trepidation, she dove in. “I know I’ve never told you anything about your father, and now... well, now I need to tell you about him, okay?”
“Ohhhkaaay.” Jack sat back on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, as he stared at her expectantly.
Carrie stayed perched on the edge of her seat. “This is harder than I thought it was going to be.” She gave a small nervous laugh. “Oh, hell, that’s a lie. I knew this was going to be difficult.”
“Maybe I can make it easier for you.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest.
When she gazed at him uncertainly, he simply gave her an enigmatic smile. “All right.” The knot in her stomach grew tighter. “Why don’t you?”
“Is Maestro Reilly my father?” Jack’s voice was husky.
Astonished, she almost fell off the sofa. “How do you know that?”
“Ha!” He pointed a finger at her. “I didn’t! But I thought I’d figured it out a couple of days ago. You just verified it for me.” Rubbing his face, he sighed deeply.
A sigh of relief?
Exactly the same stress move that Liam uses—rubbing his face, sighing.
Good God...
“How did... how did this even occur to you?” Carrie was still reeling from his revelation.
“Um... Mom... You don’t know this, but I’m sorta always on the lookout. Like when I see a guy about your age with dark red hair, I wonder if he could be my father.”
She caught her breath at that admission. Jules was right, Jack was curious.
Why shouldn’t he be? He had every right to know about his father.
Her throat tightened.
Jack stared at his feet as he spoke. “Dr. Lawson has posters plastered all over the camp of this guy who’s coming to conduct the benefit. I couldn’t stop thinking he looked, like... familiar, you know? Not only ’cause we’ve seen him on Great Performances—we never really saw that much of his face.” Putting one hand back on the table behind the sofa, he grabbed a large sheet of shiny paper and held it up.
Liam, his hair brushed back, one stray piece hanging over his forehead, smiled in a posed publicity photo.
She met Jack’s eyes over the poster.
“See?” He shook the picture. “Look at him. He’s familiar because he looks like me.” Jack set the poster down. “I got on the Web in the computer lab after I realized that and Googled him. And I—I found a bio that told where he grew up in Canada, that he’d graduated from McGill in Montreal, and when he taught there.” Turning sideways, he tipped his head to stare at her. “I knew you were auditioning in Montreal when your dad was killed.” He shrugged. “I did the math. There was a picture of him on the Web. From like, when he was a freshman at Juilliard.” Jack’s eyes got bigger. He shook his head as if to clear it. “Mom, seriously, it could have been a picture of me.”
He was smiling a little twisted smile that wrenched her heart. “Oh, Jack... Honey, I’m so sorry you had to figure this out by yourself.” In her lap, her fingers were laced together so tightly, they ached. She opened her hands and wiped them on her skirt. “I wanted to tell you. I did. So many times. But it seemed too complicated, andand I didn’t want you to thinkto think...” She choked on the words.
They sat quietly for a moment, then he scooted over to put his arm around her. “C’mon Mom, it’s okay.” His big hand patted her curls.
Another Liam gesture.
“Oh, Jack...” She squared her shoulders—she needed to mom up and face this with dignity.
“Really. I’m okay with it. Honest. I’m glad it’s out.” He gave her a squeeze. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you if I was right. I wasn’t sure what to do. I know you don’t like to talk about that time. I kinda thought I’d ask Elly today when he got here.” He patted her head again as if she were a child. “I guess I don’t have to now, huh?”
Carrie wiped her eyes. “I was wrong. I should have told you about Liam years ago. I guess I got too comfortable with just us. Andand I knew if I told you, I’d have to see him. I’m sorry.” The tears threatened again. Sniffing, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I was being a wuss, honey. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” He gasped. “That’s so messed up!” Shoving up from the low leather sofa, he paced across the small office, staring out the back door before he turned around to face her. “Mom, for me, finding out my father’s a famous symphony conductor is kinda like a kid on a basketball team finding out his dad plays center for the Bulls. I mean it’s weird, but it’s... awesome!”
“Seriously?” She blinked back tears and dug in her bag for a tissue.
“Well, yeah. But are you cool with him coming here? It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him, and I don’t know what happened between you two.”
He’s worried about me?
She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of parental pride mixed with a large dose of guilt as she blew her nose on the tattered tissue she’d discovered in her purse. “I’m fine with it. Really.”
“It’s kinda freaky him showing up here, isn’t it?” His eyes darkened.
“It’s not a coincidence. Eliot brought him here... for the benefit, but also for you. He wanted you two to meet,” she admitted. “He thought it was time. He’s right. It is time—past time.”
“So I am going to meet him while he’s here?” He sounded hesitant.
“Do you want to meet him?” She stared directly into his face.
“Yes,” he answered, but backtracked an instant later. “But... not if you have a problem with it. Really, we don’t know anything about him. It’s been a long time since you saw him. Maybe he’s a big douche who thinks he’s too cool for us.”
God, how I love this kid. Nobody has my back like Jack.
“He’s not a douche.” She shook her head. “What a word!”
“Why didn’t you tell him about me?” Now his curiosity had kicked in. “What happened? Were you in love or was it... just... like a... a hook-up?”
“A hook-up?” Carrie was a bit surprised at her son’s supply of information about the world. “We were in love. It definitely wasn’t a hook-up. He wanted me to go to Europe with him that summer, but my dad’s death changed everything and…” Pausing, she remembered the time with Liam in Montreal.
“What happened?” he asked again. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. “Hey! All those CDs? Your classical CDs? I just realized he’s the conductor on most them. The Mozart one with the London Symphony. Mahler with the New York Philharmonic. The Strauss waltzes in Atlanta. They’re all his recordings!”
Flush
ing in spite of herself, she smiled. “Not every one, but a lot of them. I guess it was a way for me to be connected to him.” She paused, debating about how much to tell him. “Liam and I only knew each other a short time. I didn’t trust what we had. I didn’t believe we could make it work.” She decided against including Marty Justice in her story. The bare facts were that she’d made the choice not to trust what they’d shared and she had to own it. “I’d already broken up with him when I realized I was pregnant with you. I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving him to his career and coming up here to raise you alone.” She shrugged with a little smile. “Okay, not all alone—with Uncle Noah and Aunt Margie and Eliot and the entire village.”
Jack laughed—a deep throaty laugh that always charmed her right down to her socks.
His father’s laugh.
“We’ve been okay without him, Mom. I know that.” Eyes averted, his voice softened. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but... I kinda miss having a real dad. Uncle Noah and Elly and Charlie have all been great but... if this guy’s okay, I’d like to meet him. Do you think Elly could arrange it?”
A couple of cleansing breaths later, Carrie stood up, walked to him, and smoothed his hair back from his face. It was getting long again, parting in the middle and hanging over his ears. “You can meet him right now, if you like. He’s outside.”
“Outside?” Jack’s eyes widened. “Here? Now?”
She nodded. “He arrived a few days ago... on a yacht. It’s docked at home.”
“So you’ve talked to him? Did you tell him about me?” He paced back and forth, his fingers raking through his hair. “What did he say? Was he pissed? Does he even want to meet me?”
“Take a breath, babe.” Putting a hand out to stop him, she rubbed his bicep. “He knows about you. He’s dying to meet you. I asked him to wait until today. He agreed, but not very happily. Liam and I had to talk. We had a lot of stuff to clear up between us.”
“Like what? I mean besides the obvious.” He tapped his own chest rather ruefully.
Once More From the Top (The Women of Willow Bay) Page 13
