Dread coiling in her belly like a snake about to strike, she grabbed the phone. “Carlos?”
“Hey, hermanita.” He sounded very un-Carlos-like. Hesitant. Careful. All wrong. Her big brother was always the most confident person in the room. He knew what was right and he never minded telling you. “I’m sorry if I woke you up. It’s not even daylight there yet, right?”
“It’s okay. I was up. I... Is there something wrong?”
And then he just came out with it. “It’s Papi,” he said. “You need to get home.”
Chapter Twelve
Dressed in the silk pajamas he always wore when expecting a visit from the children in the morning, Max was just climbing into his bed when his cell rang. He could hear it buzzing away, over there on the chair, still in the pocket of the trousers he’d worn to Lani’s.
He considered letting it go to voice mail and calling whoever it was back later. But who called at six Sunday morning? It would be a wrong number or someone who urgently needed to reach him.
Just in case it was the latter, he went over there, grabbed the trousers, fished the phone from the pocket and answered.
“Max?” Lani’s voice vibrated with urgency.
Alarm jangled through him. “Lani, what is it?”
“I just got a call from my brother. My father’s in surgery. Acute appendicitis. Can you believe that?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, just barreled on, the words tumbling over each other in a frantic rush. “My mother’s a doctor and she didn’t figure it out. The symptoms can be a little different for older people. It doesn’t seem so acute. But it is acute. If they’d waited any longer, it would have ruptured. He’s still not okay, far from okay. They’ve got him in surgery—did I already say that? It’s... Oh, Max, I’m sorry. I guess I’m rambling.”
“It’s all right. Don’t apologize.” He dropped to the chair and raked his fingers back through his hair. “An appendectomy then?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“But it’s a standard procedure, isn’t?”
“I don’t know. My brother made it sound pretty bad.”
“Still, your father is going to pull through?”
A ragged sound escaped her. “I think so. I’m pretty sure. I need to fly back there, to be with them, to see Papi, to tell him how much I love him.”
“Yes. Of course you do. I’ll arrange for a jet.” He should take her, he knew it. He should be there when she needed him. “I don’t know if I can get out of that thing in London at this point...”
“Of course not. I understand.” She sounded strange suddenly. A little stiff, too formal, somehow. He didn’t like it. It made him feel apart from her, not family.
But then, he wasn’t her family. He was her lover and her friend and she meant the world to him, and that was how they both wanted it.
She went on, “I mean, it’s bad, but he’s not dying or anything. At least, he’d better not. And really, Max, I only wanted you to know what was going on. As far as getting there, I can just fly commercial. You don’t have to—”
He cut her off. “I will arrange for the jet.”
“Oh, Max...” A tight laugh escaped her. “I don’t know why I’m so freaked out. I mean, people get sick sometimes. You deal with it. It’s probably mostly the guilt.”
“Guilt?”
“That I haven’t been back much, that I never go home. All that he did for me, all my life, especially in the hardest times. And I’m not there when he needs his whole family around him, rooting for him. Or maybe it was Carlos.”
“Your brother?”
“He was the one who called me. Did I tell you that? I guess not. Carlos sounded so cautious and subdued. My brother is never subdued and...” She pulled herself up short. “There I go. Babbling away again.”
“I’ll arrange everything,” he promised. “Two hours, tops, you’ll be in the air.”
“But I could so easily—”
“Don’t argue. I will get you there hours ahead of any commercial flight you could find. And you want to be there fast, don’t you?”
“Oh, Max. I do.” A hard sob escaped her. “Yes.”
“Then count on me. Pack, get ready to go, call Sydney and tell her what’s happened. Do whatever you need to do. I’ll be there to take you to Nice Airport at seven. Be ready.”
“All right, yes. I... Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” His voice sounded gruff to his own ears. “You never need to thank me.”
“Oh, Max, I...” She seemed to catch herself. “Seven. Yes. I’ll be ready when you get here.”
* * *
Max arrived at her apartment ten minutes early. They were on their way to the airport at seven on the dot.
During the drive, Lani seemed distant, distracted—which was in no way surprising given the circumstances. He held her hand and gave her Gerta’s good wishes. “And Connie sends a thousand kisses and orders you to take care of your papa and then be home soon.”
She smiled softly at that. “Tell Connie a million billion kisses back. And of course I will do exactly as she instructed. Any message from Nicky? Wait. Let me guess. Something along the lines of ‘So can we stay home from Sunday breakfast, then?’”
“You know him too well.” He wanted to be closer to her. So he unhooked his seat belt, slid over to the middle seat and hooked himself in there. “Hello.” He put his arm around her. With a sigh, she leaned her head on his shoulder. Better. He breathed in the scent of her hair and tried to tamp down his apprehensions. Her father would be fine in the end, he was sure. And she would come home to Montedoro, home to him.
She glanced up at him. “Tell Nicky he gets a million billion kisses from me, too, whether he likes it or not.”
“I will. Have you talked to your mother yet?”
She sighed again. “No. I’ll see her soon, and she’s focused on my father right now. I’m in touch with Carlos, getting everything I need to know from him. He’ll tell her I’m on the way.”
“The thing in London is tomorrow evening. Once it’s over, I’ll come to you.”
Her head shot up. “You’re coming to Texas?”
He eased his hand under her hair, wrapped his fingers around the warm, soft back of her neck and teased, “That’s where you’ll be, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t...” She seemed to catch herself.
He held her gaze. “You do that a lot lately—stop talking in the middle of sentences, as though you’re editing yourself.”
“I... Sorry.”
“Did it again.”
“I’m worried about my father.”
“I know.” But he doubted that was all of it.
“Max, really. You don’t have to come.”
“It’s not a question of having to. I want to come.” He was more and more certain that something other than her father’s sudden illness was bothering her—and had been for a while now. “Unless you don’t want me there...”
“No. That’s not so. Of course I want you there.” She was trying too hard to convince him, which only made him more certain that she really didn’t want him in Texas with her family.
Too bad. He was taking her at her word, whether she liked it or not. “All right then. I’ll be there.”
* * *
Max would be joining her in Beaufort....
Lani wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Glad that he wanted to be there for her, certainly.
But a little bit freaked, too. Her family wanted her to come home to Texas to stay. Failing that, they at least wanted her settled down and happy wherever she lived. To her family, settled down meant married, and she doubted they would be shy about making that painfully clear to Max.
The fact that what they wanted had finally turned out to be what she wanted d
idn’t really help all that much. Not when she knew in her heart it wasn’t what Max wanted.
Which was something the two of them were going to be talking about.
Soon.
At the airport, the driver took them right out to the plane bearing Montedoro’s coat of arms. An attendant rushed forward and dealt with her luggage. Max took her on board and exchanged greetings with the flight crew.
Then he cradled her face between his hands. “They’ll take good care of you. A car will be waiting in Dallas.”
Now that he was leaving, she realized that she wanted him never to go. “Thank you.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Kiss me.”
“That’s better.” He took her mouth gently, a tender salute of a kiss that ended way too quickly.
She trailed him to the exit.
“Call me when you arrive in Dallas,” he said.
She promised she would and watched him run down the airstairs. “I love you,” she whispered under her breath as he ducked into the limo. It seemed the truest thing she’d said all day. Too bad she hadn’t managed to shout it out loud and proud.
Before they took off, she called Carlos. “How’s Papi?”
“He’s out of surgery. Groggy. Hanging in.” He was still sounding strange, almost guarded, and that worried her. Was it worse than he was letting on?
“Is there something you’re not telling me, Carlito?”
“Not telling you?” He spoke impatiently, with a hint of belligerence, her big brother reminding her that he was the oldest and knew best. “What do you mean?” He could be such a jerk sometimes.
She schooled her voice to a reasonable tone. “I mean, is he worse than you’re telling me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Yoli Poly, you still need to come home.” Yoli Poly. She’d always hated that nickname. And she didn’t like his scolding tone.
“Carlos. I’m in the jet. I’m on my way. Sheesh.”
“Good. You need a ride from the airport?”
“No, thanks. It’s taken care of.”
“She’s a big girl,” he teased. “She can do it herself.”
“That is exactly right.” She said it jokingly, but she meant every word. “And don’t you forget it.”
* * *
The plane took off at 8:00 a.m. Flying west, the time zone difference worked in her favor. She arrived at Love Field at a little before noon. There was customs to deal with, but it didn’t take that long.
She called Max from the limo on her way to the hospital and told him she’d arrived safely and her father was out of surgery, doing well.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” His voice played through her, deep and fine, rousing way too many dangerous emotions. She promised to call him if there was any other news and he said he would be in touch tomorrow to firm up plans for joining her there. “Shall I find a hotel?” he offered.
Oh, that was tempting. Separate him from the parents and the pushy big brother. Create fewer opportunities for cringe-worthy remarks and questions about their relationship and where it might be going.
But that wouldn’t be right. He mattered to her. A lot. And the people she loved had a right to know that. Plus, in her family, you didn’t send out-of-town guests to hotels unless you had no room for them.
There was plenty of room at the rambling five-bedroom redbrick ranch-style house on Prairie Lane where she’d grown up. “My mother would never forgive me if I sent you to a hotel.”
“There will be a bodyguard,” he reminded her. “Are you sure?”
“We’ll make it work.”
“All right, then.” Did he sound okay with the plan? He might come to her little apartment for the evening twice a week, but then he went home to a palace. He would probably be more comfortable at a decent hotel....
“Max. Just tell me. Would you rather get a hotel suite?”
“I would rather be with you.”
A sweet warmth stole through her. “Well, okay, then. You’ll stay at the house.”
“Good.”
She almost warned him that they would have separate rooms. But then again, what was so strange about that? They had yet to spend a full night in the same bed together. And never once had she shared his bed at the palace. This was pretty much the same thing, really.
He spoke again. “Lani.”
“Um?”
“I miss you.”
She chided, “It’s been what, twelve hours since I left?”
“Maybe it’s your being so far away. Whatever it is, this is the moment for you to say, ‘I miss you, too.’”
She confessed it. “I do miss you.” She wished he was there, in the car with her, that she could put her head on his shoulder, have the steady weight of his arm around her. Not to mention, be his wife and have his babies.
But he wasn’t there. And the last time they’d talked about marriage, he’d told her he would never get married again.
She said goodbye.
* * *
When she entered her father’s hospital room, Jorge Vasquez was sitting up in bed, alert and clear-eyed. At the sight of her, he grinned from ear to ear and held out his arms. “Mi’ja, Carlito said you were coming!”
A miracle had happened, evidently. Her father had taken a turn for the better.
“Papi.” She went to him and he hugged her close. His grip was strong. When he let her go, she looked him over. “You seem...good. Really good.”
“I’m just fine. The surgery was laparoscopic, no complications—at least so far. I’ve been up and walking around. They’re letting me out of here today.”
“Today?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I’m strong as an ox and modern medicine is a wonderful thing.”
“But I thought—”
The sound of her mother’s voice cut her off. “Yolanda, my baby girl...” Lani turned as Iris Vasquez entered the room looking just as Lani remembered her, petite and pretty, her long dark hair threaded with silver, parted in the middle and pulled back in a low ponytail.
“Mama.” Lani went into her open arms. As always, her mother smelled faintly of plain soap. Dr. Iris never wore perfume. Too many of her young patients were allergic to it. She took Lani by the shoulders and held her away enough to beam at her. “Oh, it’s good to see you. Look at you. More beautiful than ever.”
Lani pulled her close for another hug. “You, too, Mama.”
That time, when they moved apart, her mother urged her to take a chair.
She sat down. “Carlos really had me worried about Papi.”
Iris waved a hand. “Oh, I know. I told him there would be no need for you to come, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“No need?” Lani tried to keep her voice light, though inside she was starting to seethe.
Her mother nodded. “Right away, I knew what was going on. Textbook symptoms of appendicitis. I took your father straight to his internist and then here for surgery.”
“So you’re saying you caught it early?”
“Well, mi’ja, I am a doctor, after all. And I’m sorry to drag you all the way from the Riviera. But now, looking at you right here where I can reach out my arms and hug you, I can’t help but be glad that Carlos insisted this was a good way to get you to come home.”
* * *
Max was in bed when his phone rang. Lani. It was after ten in Montedoro, which meant it would be past three in the afternoon where she was.
Eager for the husky sound of her voice, he set aside the book he’d been reading and put the phone to his ear. “How’s your father?”
“Good. Really good. Too good.”
“Too good? How is that possible?”
�
��Turns out Carlos lied to me when he said my father was practically at death’s door. Apparently, he did it to get me to come home. So I get here an hour ago and my father’s sitting up in bed, all smiles and so happy to see me. My mother figured out it was appendicitis from practically his first twinge of pain. The operation was laparoscopic— minimally invasive, small incisions, faster healing.”
“It all sounds great—other than the part about your brother lying to you.”
“I’m thinking positive. My dad isn’t dying after all. The doctor’s with him now and he’s going home today.”
“But you’re angry.”
“I was terrified. I want to strangle Carlos, I really do. I’ll get him alone later and tell him exactly what I think of him.”
“Be kind.”
“Right. And you know...” Suddenly she was doing that hesitating thing again, her voice trailing off as though she wasn’t sure how much she could say to him. He gritted his teeth and waited for it. “It’s really not necessary for you to come here now. Everything’s going to be fine and I’ll be back in Montedoro in a week, two at the most.”
He said nothing.
“Max? Are you still there?”
“I’m here. Are you saying that you don’t want me there?”
“No, of course I’m not.” The words sounded automatic and not all that sincere.
He should probably back off, leave her alone to be with her family. She’d return to him soon enough. But he wanted to go to her, to see where she’d grown up, to meet her mother and father and even the devious big brother. “All right then. I’ll come directly from London, as planned.”
* * *
“You scared me to death,” Lani accused. “You know that, right?”
It was nine o’clock that night. Her father was resting comfortably in his own bed, her mother beside him. Carlos’s bride, Martina, was in the living room on the phone with her own mother in San Antonio. Lani had dragged Carlos out to the back deck to have it out with him.
Carlos blustered, “You needed to be scared. You needed to come home.” Her big brother was the same as ever. He had no shame. But why should he? He was always right, just ask him.
“You lied to me, Carlos. You manipulated me. Papi was never in any real danger.”
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