by James, Sandy
“Mama see horsie?” Chelsea asked.
Sam patted her daughter’s chubby leg. “Yes, honey. Mama sees the horsie.”
* * * *
Joy could tell something was wrong the instant she saw Lucas walk inside the dining room. His stoic mask was firmly back in place, and she wanted to cry when she saw he wore a long-sleeved shirt, hiding his scars. What happened, Szivem?
Before Joy had a chance to go to him, Seth and Katie Remington walked in with their son, and the noise rose to an almost unbearable din. Realizing she needed to attend to the customers, she went back to work, plotting how quickly she could gain enough time to talk to Lucas. Dropping the big pan of noodles into the steam table, she checked the temperature and then went to retrieve another item for the buffet.
Lucas had to fight the urge to run after Joy when he saw her duck into the kitchen. Everything inside him screamed at him to go to her, to take her hand and drag her upstairs to that tiny apartment and tell her everything. Maybe she would forgive him for the stupid mistakes he’d made in life. But how could anyone, even Jozsa, forgive him for what he’d done to Brad?
Dragging a chair to the table where Sam had pulled up a high chair for Chelsea, Lucas tried to lose his plaguing thoughts by playing with his niece. Then he realized he should have chosen somewhere else to sit because Sam started in on him immediately.
“Are you ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
“Butt out, Sam,” he replied, hoping the tone in his voice told his sister-in-law he meant business.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen. Why don’t you go find Joy? Maybe she can talk to you when you’re in this mood.” Sam’s overbearing tone almost made Lucas yell at her in response. But he realized she was just trying to help, so he let her bossiness pass. “Maybe you’ll open up to her since you won’t talk to me or Brian.”
“I’m gonna go see Seth,” Lucas said, groping for some way to get away from Samantha’s scrutiny. There was only one person he knew he could talk to, and Joy was far too busy for the type of discussion he wanted to have with her. Lucas got up and made his way through the throng of well-wishers to finally reach Seth and Katie.
“Hey, Lucas,” Seth said, slapping Lucas on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it. Where’s your little gypsy?”
Lucas just shrugged. “Happy anniversary,” he said before turning to Katie. “I don’t know why you’ve put up with Seth’s worthless ass for a whole year, but... Congratulations.”
Katie laughed as she shifted Reed to her other hip. Lucas smiled down at the little boy and tousled his curly red hair. The poor kid probably got sick of people doing that, but that hair... Reed smiled back at Lucas, revealing four tiny white teeth.
“Yeah, well, where else can I get a driver who actually listens to me?” she finally replied.
“How about Brian?” Lucas countered.
Seth snorted. “I’m way better than Brian.”
“The hell you are!” Lucas heard his brother shout as he approached them. “Who’s holding the most wins right now?”
“By two. I’m quaking in my boots,” Seth said with a faux frightened look. Then he laughed at his own dry sense of humor. “And the season’s far from over.”
Lucas simply listened to their friendly banter over who would win the driving title for Dan Patch that season. The year before, neither had taken the title because Brian had been injured and Seth hadn’t started driving until too late in the season to amass enough wins. He did, however, manage to rise to third in the final standings, a feat Seth bragged about. Often.
Lucas sensed Joy behind him before he saw her. Just as she said it had always been for her, he simply knew she was there. All he wanted to do was turn around, toss her over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and haul her up to her apartment. He’d make love to her fast and fierce. At first. Then, when he could regain some control over his tumbling emotions, he would tell her all he felt in his heart for her and tell her all his secrets. But instead of having the courage to follow through on any of his plans, all he did was turn around and kiss her forehead. “Hi, Sweetheart.”
She appeared concerned. Those big brown eyes bored into him, searching for replies to questions he wasn’t comfortable answering. Worse, he was sure that even if he didn’t open his mouth, she would find the answers anyway if she looked hard enough.
“What happened, Szivem?” she asked as she put her hand on his scarred arm and let her fingers caress the material covering it.
He knew what she meant with her question and the telling stroke of his arm. She recognized the shirt had been a deliberate choice and wanted to know why. Lucas shrugged, hoping the subject would drop. But the envelope was still scorching him through his pocket. Having no clue when he could work up enough guts to open the damned thing, he wasn’t going to share that with Joy. That revelation would only open a can of worms he’d sooner leave shut until they had more time. And if he could work up some courage. “Nothing.”
She gave him an unladylike snort that was echoed by Katie, who was obviously listening to their conversation.
“He’s got some bee up his behind,” Katie said with an incline of her head toward Lucas. He threw her a scowl in return. Katie simply smiled back at him. “Well, you do.”
Joy nodded once and then took Lucas’s hand into her cool, thin fingers. “We’ll find some time to talk later.” She caressed his forearm with her other hand. “We’ll talk about this, but right now I have to feed these rowdy people.” She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Later. I promise.” She let go of him and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Unfortunately, Tamas came into the dining room through the same swinging doors. He carried a large silver pan that he dropped into a slot on the steam table.
Lucas tried to ignore Tamas, but the nasty scowls the gypsy threw his way only made Lucas’s temper swell. At least if he could direct some anger at Tamas, Lucas could stop directing all of it at himself. When Tamas took a few steps toward him, Lucas braced for the verbal blow. It wasn’t long in coming.
“Leave Jozsa alone,” Tamas demanded. “You’ve caused her enough trouble with her family. Just stay away from her.”
Lucas stared at the arrogant man. Unable to form an answer that didn’t contain a string of profanities about how he felt about Tamas, Joy’s father, and the world in general, Lucas kept his silence.
Bela appeared in the kitchen door, obviously listening with great intent to what Tamas was saying in very loud words—loud enough to have drawn Bela from the kitchen. Then Lucas took a quick glance around and realized that Tamas had been shrill enough that Lucas’s friends were listening in as well.
Great. A scene. Just what I needed.
“I mean it,” Tamas continued, letting the tone of his voice become sure and more scolding. “Stay the hell away from her. She doesn’t want you hanging around all the time. Leave her in peace to her family. And to me.” He thumped Lucas’s chest with his index finger, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd.
Lucas could feel his anger rising akin to the building pressure before a volcano blows. If he didn’t get a grip on his temper, this was going to get ugly. He tried to calm himself, tried to talk quietly to his frayed nerves, but it wasn’t working. Clenching his fists at his side, he resisted the almost overwhelming temptation to take a swing at Tamas, especially when he noticed the confident smirk on that dark face. “Don’t talk to me about Joy,” was all Lucas could finally squeeze out of his clenched jaw. “And don’t touch me again. Ever.”
Bela said something to Tamas in Hungarian. For some reason, it sounded like encouragement, and knowing they were talking about him only make Lucas lose a little more of that tenuous control he desperately clung to.
“Joy won’t be back to serve this party,” Tamas finally said with a condescending tone that made Lucas’s nostrils flare in response.
Joy had just come through the swinging doors with the last of the vegetable pans for the buf
fet and immediately picked up on the increase in tension that permeated the huge room. Hearing Tamas’s stupid and extraordinarily pompous pronouncement, she had to fight the urge to slap him for being so bossy and possessive of someone who didn’t belong to him. “Joy will be back to serve this party. Back off, Tamas.”
“Yeah. Back off, Tamas,” Lucas echoed with a mocking grin.
Joy could hear the edge to Lucas’s voice and worried things were going to get out of hand. Dropping the pan into the steam table, she put her pot holders aside and prepared for the worst. Tamas was incensed, but Joy really didn’t care.
“You would side with...him?” Tamas sneered. He gestured his thumb at Lucas, and she caught the scowl Lucas threw back at Tamas. “You’d side with him over your own kind?”
“What kind is he? Silly me, I thought we were all the same kind. You know, people,” Joy replied, knowing she was baiting him, but not really caring at that moment. He couldn’t get away with treating Lucas this way.
“Romungro, Jozsa. You’re Romungro. He’s a...a gadjo.”
Joy narrowed her eyes at the man she had once considered a friend, someone she’d known her whole life. He was rapidly losing that designation in her life. “Gadjo or not, he has a name, Tamas. And Lucas may not be Romungro, but that doesn’t make him any less a person.”
“But you are Romungro. You would side with an outsider over your own kind?”
“I would side with Lucas over your ridiculous racism,” she replied.
Lucas nodded and shot Tamas a condescending smirk.
Tamas’s face began to mottle red, and she knew he was likely to respond to her disobedience and Lucas’s mocking with rage. To head him off at the pass, Joy turned to her father. “Seth Remington asked for me to work this party. Are you going to let Tamas drive away a customer like Remington Computers?” Joy didn’t glance over her shoulder to see if Seth was upset with her overstatement, but right now she needed to be near Lucas, and her father was her only chance. He had to call off his little pit bull because she knew Tamas wouldn’t listen to her. Knowing Bela would side with Tamas if she didn’t give him a good reason not to, Joy needed to pull any dirty trick she could so she could stay near Lucas. He obviously needed her tonight, and she figured Seth would probably be wise enough to understand what was happening and go along with her plan.
Bela stared at the crowd, and Joy knew immediately when his eyes found Seth. She was pleased to see a stern frown on Seth’s face that made her decide, famous or not, he was her friend.
All her father did was give her a terse nod, but she could read the anger and challenge in his eyes. Speaking to her in Hungarian, he said, “You should not flaunt that boy in front of Tamas. You need to respect your future husband.”
“Oh, I am, Papa. I am respecting my future husband,” she replied in her father’s language. She really didn’t care how Bela would misinterpret what she said. Although she knew she had won this round, the fight would still go on.
Joy’s gaze found Lucas. His fists were still clenched at his side and his face remained rigid in that mask of calm she knew he didn’t really feel. She was about to say something when Tamas suddenly exploded in a string of Hungarian profanities. Then he pushed Lucas’s chest with both hands and scoffed in English, “If Joy is working this party then you have to leave. Get out of my restaurant.”
Joy tried desperately to reach Lucas before he could react. Unfortunately, she couldn’t move fast enough. By the time she made it across the room, Lucas’s right fist had already connected soundly with Tamas’s nose.
Tamas took a stumbling step back. He reached up to wipe his nose, saw the blood on his fingers, and bellowed, “Damn you!” In one big surge, he swung a fist at Lucas. Lucas side-stepped the blow so deftly, Joy half expected him to shout, “Ole!” With the sound of breaking glass and clanging silverware, Tamas found himself sprawled on one of the big round tables.
Scrambling to his feet, Tamas ducked his head, lunged for Lucas, and butted headfirst into his stomach like an angry billy goat. Joy heard the loud, “Ooof!” as the air was knocked out of Lucas. Tamas pushed him hard against the wall. Before he could land a blow, Tamas found his arms held from behind by Brian and Seth as they pulled him away from Lucas.
Lucas bent over and put his hands on his thighs as he seemed to be having quite a bit of trouble catching his breath. Joy hurried to his side.
“Slow breaths. Nice, slow breaths,” she said as she stroked his back.
Tamas shook free of Seth and Brian’s grasps as he rolled his shoulders and straightened his shirt. His face flushed a deeper red and he stomped over to Joy’s side. He opened his mouth, obviously ready to bellow out more commands and insults, but Bela cut him off as he slashed his hand in the air. Pulling a white handkerchief from his pocket, he gave it to Tamas who held it to his bleeding nose. Bela shot a chastising glare at Joy before he turned his gaze back to Tamas.
“Enough of this nonsense,” Bela said in Hungarian. “Come with me, Tamas. We have important things to discuss.”
Watching her father wrap an arm around Tamas’s shoulder and escort him through the swinging doors, Joy finally sighed in relief, not even caring that they were probably off to discuss her. She looked down at Lucas who seemed to be breathing better. “Are you all right?”
Lucas straightened to his full height. “I’m fine,” he said in a voice with absolutely no emotion.
Seth stood up on a chair and waved his arms. “If I can please have everyone’s attention.” The noise level fell considerably as the people in the room turned to watch Seth. “It appears the fireworks segment of the evening’s entertainment is over. Joy?”
“Yes?” she replied.
“Can we eat?”
“Oh, yes. Please. I’m so sorry for the trouble. The buffet is ready.” Joy swept her arm toward the enormous steam table and the pile of warm plates.
As the guests made their way to the food, Joy worked with Krisi to help set the fresh places at the table Tamas had ruined. “Thank you,” Joy said as Krisi nodded and returned to the greeter’s podium.
Realizing that Tamas and her father weren’t intent on coming back to help, Joy got down to business and tended to her guests. It was hard not to get angry. Not only had Tamas picked a fight for no good reason, but Bela had led him away, and neither bothered to return. Joy had to face working the huge party by herself. Figuring it was Bela’s typical kind of punishment for what he’d obviously deemed her disobedient behavior, she finally heaved a huge sigh and did her job. She would make sure this party was nice for Seth and Katie, even if it killed her.
Chapter 17
Lucas didn’t bother to wave at Brian or Sam as they drove away. He knew it was rude, but at least Chelsea had fallen asleep and wouldn’t notice the snub. He figured Brian would forgive him. Sam would, too. After the horrible night, he just didn’t have any niceties left to give to anyone. And the wretched play he found himself stuck in still had one more scene remaining before the curtain would wring down.
Striding up the stairs and into his kitchen, Lucas flipped on the light switch. After making that typical crackling noise that he knew wasn’t a good sign, the naked bulb above his head eventually glowed bright enough for him to see. Yanking the letter that had been haunting him all evening out of his pocket, he pried the envelope open and unfolded the single page inside.
Dear Lucas,
It’s hard to believe so many months have passed. I hope things are back to normal for you. I hope your arm has healed. I hope you are well. And I hope you’ve found some happiness being back home with your family and your horses.
I planted some flowers on Brad’s grave today. I know it’s awfully late in the summer, but the more time I spend there, the more I want to make it something other than just a small patch of grass. I want Brad’s grave to have color and warmth. I want it to be as handsome as Brad was so people will know the boy who is buried there was once bright and full of life.
Please come for a
visit sometime soon. Please come! There are so few people who will sit and talk to me about my son. Maybe they’re afraid they will make me sad by forcing me to remember him. But what they don’t realize is that not talking about Brad is what’s making me sad.
Love,
Karen
Lucas wanted to crumple the letter and throw it away. He wanted to hurl it in a fire and watch the flames lick at it until it was nothing but a bit of black ash. He wanted to forget he’d read it so that Karen’s words wouldn’t scream through his head for the rest of the night. But he knew he’d feel guilty if he discarded it like a piece of litter. Instead, he tucked the letter back in the envelope, dropped it in an empty cabinet drawer, and turned out the flickering light before it started a fire.
Resigned to a sleepless night, Lucas headed to his bedroom.
* * * *
Joy didn’t get back to her room until after midnight. Sweet Jesus, she felt tired. It had been nice to share the evening with friends like the Mitchells and the Remingtons, but she had to work hard to keep the buffet stocked and the drinks filled. Clearing away the party with just Krisi’s help had taken forever. And then there was Lucas. What could she do to help him?
Lucas and Tamas’s fight had been almost unbearable to watch. She knew it had been Tamas’s stupid statements that had caused the friction. He had laid hands on Lucas first, but she knew Lucas would be blaming himself. She needed to talk to him, to find out what had suddenly driven him so far away. It had to be more than Tamas’s taunting because Lucas’s mood had been unusually dark from the moment she saw him—the stoic mask, the long-sleeved shirt, the sarcastic taunts. Lucas hadn’t been himself at all, and the fight had only served to make things worse.
All four cats vocally acknowledged her entrance. She poured some more food out for them and gave each a stroking pet across their arched backs, enjoying their responsive purrs. Kicking off her sandals, Joy wiggled her toes and untied her sash. All she wanted was a hot shower and to get some badly needed sleep. She was tired enough, she seriously considered bypassing the shower. Draping the sash over the back of a chair, she began to pull her food-soiled blouse over her head.
