Blame It On Paris

by Jennifer Greene

  "I'll take him anytime." Will mouthed back to her. The rest of the family, alerted to his presence, turned around like a practiced choir and sent Kelly smiles. Kelly, not him. Kelly was getting all the credit for his attending mass.

  Kelly, who was pinching and patting and prodding him every time he looked sideways.

  "What?" he demanded when the service was finally over and they could escape back to the car.

  "You and I are going to get this religious business out in the open. Get in, buster."

  He did, although getting into her car was like a bull trying to fit into a thimble. She drove, looking damned gorgeous in an ivory top and a skirt that swished around her bare knees. She was wearing the scent he'd gotten her in Paris, and she'd put a couple clips in her hair and pearls in her ears. It was a good-girl pure-lady look, and just made him want to strip her right there and then.

  Instead, she picked up take-out coffee and drove him to a spot on the river, where she parked and handed him his cup.

  "This whole church thing," she told him. "You're being downright dumb about it."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You stood there in church like a lump. You know perfectly well what to do. If you don't believe in the religion, that would be one thing-"

  "I don't."

  "What a fib. The truth is that your dad pushed religion down your throat, so you took off in the other direction. He wanted you to be devout, so that's the last thing you were willing to be."

  "Kel. Try waking up. I'm not the devout type."

  "Horse spit." She slipped out of her sandals, lifted her legs over the gearshift and plunked them in his lap.

  She seemed to think she could yell at him and get her bare feet rubbed at the same time. The woman had no end to her illusions. It was downright astonishing.

  '"You're not preachy and churchy, Will. But you have a lot of spirituality in you. You stand up for people. For what's right. You have endless kindness and compassion for those more vulnerable than you. You don't take crap from anyone, but you're not a bully or mean about it."

  "You're calling that spirituality?" he asked.

  She took another sip of coffee and started in again. "You walk at night for the joy of it, take the time to smell the flowers, get down on the floor to play with your nephew. You're first in line when someone needs help. You try to avoid directly hurting people. I see examples of that everywhere. No matter how much your dad infuriates you, you don't attack him. Or your sisters."

  "And you think that's spirituality?" he asked again.

  "Yeah, actually. It's just colored in prettier words when you sing it in a hymn."

  He couldn't even drink his coffee, because he had to rub her toes, the balls of her feet. When he traced a thumb down that delicate, sexy arch, she purred just like a cat. "Just for the record, why are we talking about religion?"

  "Because we have to be sure we agree about what matters, Will. Is it important to you if we believe exactly the same things?"

  "No. Not at all." That was easy to answer.

  "I agree."

  Since she seemed determined to add a complicated, touchy discussion to an already complicated, touchy day, he went along. "Speaking for myself, I think religious and personal beliefs are matters of the heart. They're not up for argument. They're up for discussion, because talking about what matters is interesting and honest. But I don't want to be pushed and I'd never push you."

  "Oh God, Will, you said that so well. And I'm totally on the same page." She added, "I think everyone has a spiritual side. The only thing wrong is denying it. If you get a great feeling walking in the woods, then I'll walk in the woods with you. But if I need to go to church, I'd like you to occasionally come with me…or at least be with me about what I need to do."

  "I am. Okay." He'd given more attention to her right foot than her left, so now he had to make up to leftie. After getting a good long gulp of coffee, he said gruffly. "I think a couple should protect each other's private stuff. I don't mean sex. I mean the kind of things you're afraid of, when you're all alone or in pain."

  Slowly she swung her bare legs back to her side of the car and put down her coffee. "Will, you are so good at being honest with me. It's one of the things I love about you."

  Like the day at her house, like the failed Notre Dame breakfast fiasco, like this morning in church. Will felt a raw, gut feeling of fear. He sensed that he was a pinch away from losing Kelly, that she wanted something from him and he wasn't coming through.

  Only he couldn't seem to pin down exactly what it was. It was as if his whole life could be threatened if he couldn't solve the Rubik's Cube. He had all the colors, all the pieces, but he still had no idea how to put it together.

  He grabbed her wrist when she turned the key and started the engine. "If you like it that I'm honest with you, why are you frowning? What was this big conversation about?"

  "You're honest with me. Will. But I need you to be honest with yourself."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means that you think you're low-key and laid-back. And you're not. You think you're happy lazy. And you're not. You think you're an ex-Catholic. But you're just a Catholic who's angry about church issues, which isn't the same thing."

  "And all this interesting insight is going where?"

  "It's going toward your dad." She must have seen a certain expression on his face, because she said swiftly. "I know. We've talked this half to death. But I want you to really hear me this time. I'll follow you anywhere. But you and I can't make it if you've got a raw sore on your heart that you keep pretending doesn't matter."

  Oh, yeah. That old song. Will didn't huff, but it crossed his mind again that he could have fallen for a woman who'd settle for diamonds and yachts and traveling around the world free as a bird. Instead, he got Ms. Interfering. Bossy. Poke-Into-Deep-Sores Rochard.

  She only said one more thing. "When you deal with your dad. Will, get your mind off what he wants. Get your mind on what vow want. Think about who you are, not who he is. It'll solve everything, I promise."

  Apart from trying to reason with the most idealistic dreamer who'd ever been born, Will still needed answers that he had yet to find, no matter how hard he tried.

  BIG-BAND music spilled from the open doors of the country club. Every bush and branch was lit up on the long white patio and steps.

  Kelly didn't freeze, though, until she got a good view of the crowd.

  She wore a long black dress that she'd thought was downright adorable when she bought it-a clearance $79.99 buy at T.J. Maxx. Now she saw beads and sequins, satins and organza, and the stones dripping from necks were a long way from her rhinestones.

  "We just aren't in Kansas anymore, Toto," she murmured.

  Will tugged on her arm. "Say what? What's wrong?"

  His voice was still laced with aggravation from this morning. Hell's bells, she was just as aggravated with herself. "Nothing," she assured him brightly. "Just can't walk very fast in these heels."

  "This'll be boring as hell." Will warned her, "but we should be able to escape in a couple hours. Not until Mom's cut the cake and opened her presents, though."

  Another reason to freeze in panic. Somehow she was sure she'd bought the wrong thing. Or an inadequate thing. "Will, what did you get her?"

  He was carrying a medium-size box, clearly wrapped by a pro, not him. "My dad and sisters always get her bling and girl stuff. But my mom's actually a techno junkie, so I cater to that. Got her a GPS with her own voice recorded for the person giving directions."

  "That's terrific," Kelly said, panic building further. She'd gotten a coffee-table book on fancy gardening, because the Maguire house had been so exquisitely and uniquely landscaped. But that was before.

  The Maguires had all seemed so natural. Before. They all seemed to have the usual family squabbles and idiosyncrasies. Before. They all seemed to- likely-spit in the bowl after brushing their teeth, like she did. Before.

  Now she smiled blankly
as Will climbed the steps, his hand at the small of her back, and introduced her to a couple. The woman was wearing a designer gown, her shoes costing more than Kelly made in a month.

  "Will!" Another couple greeted him, kissed him. teased him about turning into a Frenchman.

  He kept her alongside him. Barbara and Aaron greeted both of them-Barbara giving her a giant, warm hug. Ditto for Aaron. The sisters were there, the kids. Kelly understood why his mother had wanted the family to attend mass together that morning. That was the time the occasion would be about family. This fantabulous birthday bash was clearly less about family and more about an excuse to enjoy the bling. The place didn't need to be lit up. There were enough diamonds to illuminate a couple of universes. Chocolate diamonds. Yellow diamonds. One pink diamond.

  "Hey." Will cornered her after they'd filled plates with an array of gourmet delicacies. A chef was sizzling salmon flown in from Alaska. A king crab the size of a small room was displayed on a satin-gold plate. Individual chefs manned numerous tables, offering foods from the islands. South America, the Orient. Kelly could hardly take her eyes off the wonders.

  "Kel."

  She glanced up. Will looked as stunning as she'd ever seen him. The white tux was perfect for his regal bones and ruffled blond hair, he looked a mix of bad boy and elegance. But mostly elegance. He could fit in anywhere, anytime, with anyone, she thought, and his long, lean body was just made for that tux.

  "Kelly, wake up. What's wrong?"

  She looked up again, and then shook her head with a laugh. '"Nothing. The party, it's just so beautiful."

  "Pretty stiff and formal, if you ask me. But my mom's in her element. She's loving it."

  A woman their own age took one look at Will across the patio and sailed over. "Will!" Apparently Will had gone to school with the brunette, because she acted as if she not only knew him, but had laid claim to him body and soul-especially his body-at some point in the past. She dismissed her husband as if he were a purse on her arm, threw her arms around Will, shot Kelly a hello and then ignored her, and continued to gab for three minutes solid about their shared history.

  It hit Kelly like a slam and kept slamming.

  His money had never really bothered her, because she'd always felt so natural with him. But this was the first time she'd had it jammed into her face, that this was the life Will was born to, what he was used to. Not just some dumb money, but real wealth. Not ordinary family and friends, but people who'd been all over the world and had power.

  And here she'd been telling him what to do from the day she met him. Demanding he figure out who he was, as if she had the intuition to know what was wrong with anyone as complex as Will, as if she knew anything about the life he'd grown up in.

  "Excuse me," she murmured to Will, when yet another couple ambled up to greet him. She motioned, a universal signal that she was headed for the ladies' room.

  She wasn't, but she needed a moment of silence for a minute. Around the corner of the long patio and lawn, she found a swimming pool-lit up and surrounded by more guests-but past that, she found a little corner of quiet. A nestle of trees provided a privacy border for the pool area, and no lights intruded into the warm shadows. There was a walkway, cement benches, probably leading to a golf course-Kelly didn't know or care; she just sat down for a second, and tried to draw a couple deep cleansing breaths.

  She'd never had a panic attack before, but she was pretty sure this was one. Her heart kept pounding as if a sniper threatened her at gunpoint. Her palms were damp and her stomach was twisted like a rope. She couldn't seem to catch her breath.

  "Hey, Kel…" Liz. Will's youngest sister, showed up under the tree, and abruptly spotted her. "You needed to escape from there, too? When they started up with the big-band songs, I had to catch some air."

  Liz plunked down on the bench beside her. "My mom's having a blast. Definitely her dream of a party, but it sure isn't mine. Too many canapes and Chantilly and pink rouge, you know? Not that Mom is that old. There's just a heavy focus on investment strategies and retirement homes and grandkids in every conversation. A major whew."

  Liz, thankfully, seemed oblivious to Kelly's freaked-out mood, and just having her there helped Kelly get a grip.

  "You've never lived anywhere but South Bend, have you?" Liz was happy to gallop in any conversational direction.

  "Nope. Born and raised here."

  "Yeah, me, too. That's why I'm dying to get out. I'm so hungry to move to Chicago. Someplace with life and lights and things to do. People with energy and ideas. People with some edge, you know?" She stretched her long legs, then glanced at Kelly. "You don't agree?"

  "Well, I loved trekking into Chicago. Love traveling whenever I can afford it, too. But I have to admit, I always love it here. It's just home."

  "You don't ever get bored?"

  "Sometimes. But it seems like, well, I'd love to travel to glamorous places, do glamorous things. But over the long haul, this seems to be a good place. The kind of place where you feel safe, where people know you, where you'd want to raise your kids because there's such a strong sense of family and all that. Sounds boring to you, huh?"

  "Maybe it won't later," Liz said, clearly seeking to find a tactful response. "I just need out of here for now. I'm not ready to settle down- Hey, Will!"

  Kelly turned swiftly at Liz's delighted greeting.

  She'd had no idea that Will had walked up and found them, or how long he'd been standing there. He answered his sister immediately, but he wasn't looking at Liz-he was looking at her.

  He stepped closer, reached out a hand, his expression looking absolutely grave.

  "What's wrong?" she asked immediately.

  "Nothing," he said quietly. "I just heard you talking."

  She searched his face. She couldn't imagine anything she'd said to Liz that was odd or that he'd have objected to, but something happened, because his expression echoed a man who'd been hit hard with the wrong kind of surprise.

  The band suddenly picked up the happy birthday song. "Mom's going to open up presents," he said. "We'd better get over there."

  "Sure," she said. But she suddenly wasn't even remotely sure of anything.

  THREE AFTERNOONS LATER, Will sat in Dr. O'Malley's waiting room, waiting for his dad to come out. Aaron claimed the visit was unnecessary, since he already knew he was going to get a completely clean bill of health.

  Will bought that like he bought into fairy tales. His dad would never have asked Will to drive him unless he feared hearing a medical verdict that he didn't want the rest of the family to know.

  Will also figured his dad was going to turn this into another effort to manipulate him into taking on the business. But Maguire's, right now, wasn't remotely on his mind.

  Kelly was. He'd been shaken ever since his mother's birthday bash.

  Kel didn't want to live in Paris.

  She'd never wanted to live in Paris.

  She'd said she would. She'd said she'd come with him. He knew she meant it, and hed believed she'd wanted to go to Paris with him, wanted to be with him. He'd believed she wanted everything they'd had in Paris together, that the only reason they were both in South Bend was to resolve family problems, after which, they were both free.

  "Mr. Maguire?" The nurse standing in front of him looked impatient, as if she'd been trying to get his attention for some time. Possibly she had. His father answered to Mr. Maguire. He never had.

  "Your father would like you to join him in the doctor's office," the older woman told him, and ushered him into a room at the end of a long hall.

  Will walked in and immediately noted his father's pale complexion and angry eyes.

  "Aaron's ankle has healed well." Dr. O'Malley said pleasantly. "In fact, he's fully recovered from the accident. We're pleased with all the X-rays and tests in that regard."

  "He's trying to put a 'but' in there," Aaron growled to his son.

  Dr. O'Malley ignored him, something he'd probably learned to do a long time
ago when dealing with certain impossible patients. "However, his blood pressure is through the roof. It would help if he'd quit sneaking the occasional cigar, but that really isn't the issue. His blood-sugar levels are too low. He's got a building hiatal hernia, as well as ulcers. So far, the ulcers have been controllable with medication, but the best we can say is that they're not getting worse."

  "He's making a lot out of little things," Aaron said to Will. "You grow older, your body starts to wear out. It's annoying as hell, but it's not like any of this is a surprise."

  Will looked directly at the doctor. "He needs to cut down on work."

  "It's so nice to talk to someone who can add two and two. Your father certainly can't. In an ideal world, he could just cut down, but your father doesn't seem to be able to do that."

  "I could if I wanted to," Aaron interjected.

  "And that's the thing. He doesn't want to. So if he continues on this pattern, he's headed for some serious health repercussions. Since I can't get him to see reason, Mr. Maguire, I'm hoping you can."

  "Poppycock," Aaron grumped when they climbed into Will's car a few minutes later. "And don't tell your mother any of that crap. She's on me all the time about traveling and getting out of the business and doing things together." He shot his son a sneaky glance. "Of course, we'd be able to do those things if you'd come on board."

  "All right."

  "Don't waste your time saying no. I've heard it all before. You act like I'm torturing you, offering you a chance to climb into a successful business that's done well by all of us. I raised you to care about family, so I've never understood-"

  "I said I'd do it. Dad. And I will. If we can come to terms."

  "-why you wanted to take off, live in Paris. Kicking around's one thing, every man needs to sow some oats. But you're getting near thirty now, I think…" Aaron stopped talking. Stopped moving. They were at a stoplight on Grape Road that stayed red and stayed red and stayed red. And when it finally turned green, Aaron said. "What did you say?"

  "I said that I'll take over Maguire's. If you and I can come to terms."