by Karina Bliss
“Don’t be an idiot,” Moss said. “Who the hell else would live with me? And we can always buy another Combi.”
“That gives me an idea for a new band name.” Humor was how they kept this crazy waiting game manageable. “The Combi Brothers.”
“Or the Downsizers,” Moss countered.
Seth grinned. “We could riff off the small house movement…The Small Band Movement.”
Moss shook his head. “Sounds too much like a bowel movement.”
So far nothing beat Zander’s suggestion—Freed at Last, though Jared’s four-year-old was still lobbying hard for The Fairy Dragons. Jared himself wanted Orphan Three, and Kayla had suggested The Snicketty Lemons.
Seth was laughing at Moss’s suggestion when Gayle poked her head around the door. “Ready to go, sweetie?”
He grinned over the screen. “Give me two minutes.”
“So it worked out with Mel then?” Moss asked.
“That was my mother. But yeah, things worked out with Mel. Turned out I was more homesick than heartsick.” Thank you, Doctor Dimity. “I’ll fill you in some time. Right now, I’m taking my parents out to dinner.”
Moss grinned. “Off you go then, sweetie.”
“Fuck off,” Seth said kindly.
“That is in my plans, yes…good luck with your dad.”
“Thanks, I need it.”
His mother had her ‘going out’ perfume on, the one that smelled of gardenias. It gave Seth a pang seeing her excitement. As far as Gayle was concerned her husband and son were well on their way to reconciliation, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her any different.
He thought of what Janey had said earlier. It was true, his father was always at work—even tonight, he was meeting them at the restaurant—and yet Seth had never felt his absence through their childhood. His mother’s enthusiasm and support filled any gap. Made him believe he had two loving and involved parents. Had he? He pushed the thought aside for another time.
“You look nice, Mum.” From a Kiwi son, that was an effusive compliment.
She beamed. “You told me to dress up.”
He’d pre-booked the best restaurant in town from LA a couple of weeks earlier, figuring that if parents could try to buy their kids’ love, it could work the other way with his dad. After today’s events, that plan now seemed incredibly naïve. So he wasn’t the least bit surprised when his father bailed with a text as Seth was feeding coins into the parking meter. If anything, he was relieved that they wouldn’t have to pretend everything was fine in front of Gayle.
“Frank says he’s too tired to go out.” She looked up from her cell with a worried frown. “I hope he’s okay. Maybe we should postpone?”
He ruined my day, he’s not ruining our evening. Taking his mother’s arm, Seth steered her toward the brightly-lit bar and restaurant precinct. “Dad will be fine after an early night, and it will be more fun with the two of us.” The world does not have to revolve around Frank Curran.
He asked for a table outside so Gayle could people-watch and when she excused herself to go to the bathroom, he ordered a bottle of champagne, determined to spoil her.
Through the restaurant’s French doors he glimpsed his mother on her cell near the hostess stand. Of course she’d phone Dad to double-check he was okay. He hoped his father appreciated his luck.
As he waited for her return, Mel walked past with an armful of groceries. She’d mentioned at his party that she’d moved to an apartment around here.
She laughed when she saw the champagne bucket. “How the other half live!”
“Stay for a glass,” he invited.
“I don’t want to ruin your hot date. Where is Dimity?”
“Waiheke.” He experienced a strong urge to tell Mel the truth about his ‘girlfriend’. Keeping secrets from the people he cared about made him too like his father. “Mum’s my date tonight and she doesn’t mind threesomes.”
Chuckling, Mel shook her head. “Kevin’s waiting for ingredients.”
Screw it, he was going to come clean. They could laugh about what an idiot he’d been. “Before you go, I need to confess something. Dimity and I haven’t been dating. We pretended she was my girlfriend because…well, the reasons don’t matter now.”
“You’re lying.”
He took a second to register her response. “What?”
“Remember the night you sent me all those texts about Dimity? Later you pocket dialed me.”
“I’m not following.”
Color tinged Mel’s cheeks. “Home-baked cookies ring any bells?”
“Should they?”
“What about raw beefcake?” She waited.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Menus?”
“Dimity was baiting you. And then you said—” She faltered.
Memory hit like a freight train. I will fuck you, unless you tell me no. Heat suffused his face. “We were drunk and it was…” He hesitated, unwilling to call it a mistake.
Messy, sure. Complicated, hell yes. But Dimity been there for him when he’d needed her. And that hadn’t happened in a very long time.
“I need to ask you a question. Answer it honestly.” Mel lifted her chin. “Were you faithful to me before we broke up?”
“What? Yes!”
She gave him a considered look and said coldly, “I don’t believe you.” And walked on before he could respond.
Incensed, Seth jumped the railing and followed. “So I have to believe your relationship with Kevin never went beyond friendship while we were together, but you won’t give me the same benefit of the doubt?”
“Don’t yell at me in public. I’m not the one caught in a lie.”
“It’s not as simple as—” He started to explain and then stopped, sick and tired of always being the one in the wrong with her.
She’d ended their relationship months before he’d slept with another woman. What had Dimity said? She doesn’t have the right to your business anymore.
“You know what? I’ve dealt with enough bullshit for one day.” Maybe Mel hadn’t cheated on him with Kevin, but their attraction hadn’t come out of nowhere. While Seth was being loyal and faithful and trying to make their long-distance relationship work, she’d been flirting with—and falling for—another guy. “You don’t want to believe me? Fine. Walk away.”
And damn it, she did.
Astonished, furious, he was still staring after her when his mother called his name.
He took a deep breath and pinned a smile on his face before returning. “I thought I might have left the car lights on.”
“Oh, it would have beeped when you tried to lock it.”
“Yeah, I figured that out.” He jumped the railing and poured her a flute of champagne. “How’s Dad?”
She laughed sheepishly. “You were right, he’s fine.”
The waitress arrived with menus and Gayle glowed when she asked for Seth’s autograph. Her maternal pride bought an unexpected ache to his chest. It can’t have been easy living with his disappointed father these past months, but never once had she complained. It had always been, “Do what you need to, darling, I’ll handle your dad.”
Mel should have been more supportive of his dream. He’d always supported hers. Their lives had revolved around her five a.m. swim training. He could recall only two weekends when she’d said, “Screw an early bedtime, I’m watching you play a gig.”
Encouragement went both ways. With that reminder, he shoved his disappointment in Mel aside and concentrated on showing his mother a bloody good time.
“Crayfish,” he told the waitress.
“Oh, sweetie,” Gayle protested. “Isn’t that expensive?”
“Very expensive.” Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. “But you’re worth it.”
Finishing their main course, she said out of the blue. “I know your father’s difficult. I’m sorry, honey.”
“Don’t take this on yourself, Ma.” He dug the last morsel of white meat from the cray
fish tail.
She pushed her plate aside. “I could have tried harder to make him see reason.”
“Hey, Dad and I will work this out. You don’t have to be the intermediary anymore. I’m all grown up.” And it’s my turn to look out for you.
“Yes, you are.” A mischievous look replaced her frown as she rinsed her fingers in the finger bowl. “Dimity’s smitten.”
Seth laughed, imagining Dimity’s face if she heard this. The women in his family were crap at reading people. “I’d say she likes to keep me guessing.”
“Which is as it should be.” Gayle was silent as she dried her fingers on a napkin. “I’m glad you didn’t end up with Mel,” she confided.
“You’re kidding?” They’d been together for so many years he’d thought both their families considered them as good as married.
“I love her to bits, but she’s not the right woman for you, not long term.”
“As events have proved,” Seth said grimly. He hated the thought that their relationship had only worked so well for so long because he’d been easygoing. “But why don’t you think we’re suited?”
“No chemistry,” she said simply. “You acted like an old married couple and if you do that when you’re young, then God help your sex life by the time you hit your thirtieth anniversary.” She smiled into her glass. “That’s one thing your father and I still have going for us.”
“Okaaay. I’m not totally comfortable with this subject.” He’d forgotten his mother was a lightweight with alcohol.
“Stop being a baby and listen. I’m giving champagne wisdom here.”
“Yeah, I picked that up.”
The waitress delivered the dessert menus and he was grateful for the reprieve.
“The spark isn’t just confined to sex,” his mother continued, accepting the dessert menu. “There should be sparks in other areas as well.”
Ignoring Seth’s groan, she smiled at the waitress. “Give us a couple of minutes, sweetie.”
“Um…sure.” He noticed she stayed within earshot.
“The best relationships have their own kind of alchemy.” Unconcerned, Gayle opened the dessert menu. “That’s why I think Dimity is a better choice for you. You’ve got to have a partner who’ll challenge you to grow to your full potential. Or what’s the point?”
Despite himself, he became fascinated. “Does Dad do that for you, Ma?”
She gestured for the waitress. “We’re ready to order now.”
So just the sex then.
After they’d ordered a crème brûlée for Gayle and an affogato for Seth, she leaned forward. “I am challenging your father to change,” she confided. “Your leaving, while painful, will probably be the best thing for him. He needs to retire so we can start spending some of that hard-earned cash on us.”
“Good for you, Ma.” Seth toasted her, before making another silent one to his father.
Dad, you’re going to take my bloody money if I have to ram it down your throat.
Chapter Fourteen
It was terribly important to get this meeting right, so at noon the next day Seth dressed like the businessman he used to be, in a gray suit, white business shirt, and striped tie. He’d dug them out of the closet where he’d asked his mother to store them, dry-cleaned and protected under plastic. Relics of a previous life, and, with hindsight, a back-up plan if music didn’t pan out.
It still might not pan out, but the days of second-guessing himself were gone. He made a mental note to drop the suits off at a charity shop before he left New Zealand.
He hadn’t seen his father since their heated argument yesterday. By the time he and Gayle had rolled home, slightly the worse for wear, Frank was in bed.
He’d heard the murmur of voices when his mother retired though, and his father’s wariness as he wondered what Seth had divulged to Gayle…
Nothing. This was between them.
He’d sent Dimity a text before he brushed his teeth.
Think of me when you’re machinating tonight.
Her reply came when his mouth was still full of toothpaste, and he nearly choked laughing—a shot of a crazy-eyed, razor-toothed honey badger in full snarl mode.
After rinsing his mouth out, he responded. Stop sending naked pictures.
She’d replied instantly. Pervert.
I love it when you talk dirty.
She’d stopped then, obviously realizing she couldn’t win.
Climbing into bed, he heard his mother giggle next door and recalled her comment that sex still worked for her and his dad. He slept with a pillow over his head. It smelled of Dimity. Strangely addictive.
First thing this morning, he’d phoned the office and asked Yvonne to block out some time after lunch so Frank had no excuse to cut their meeting short. He had also requested she not divulge that he was the one-thirty appointment. “It’s a surprise.”
She’d assumed he’d meant a good one. That was up to Frank.
He printed his financial statements on his mother’s printer and borrowed one of her plastic manila folders, feeling like a kid about to do show-and-tell in class. “See, Dad. I did good.”
The tough part would be getting Frank to reciprocate with the company’s current financial accounts, but Seth wasn’t throwing his savings away. He had to know if the downturn was due to a management issue. If his father had dropped the ball, then they’d need to employ a fixer. Another fun conversation to have after this one.
He arrived ten minutes before Frank was due back from lunch and settled in the meeting room opposite the reception desk, deliberately leaving the door open. When Frank saw who his one-thirty was, he pivoted, only to meet Yvonne’s smile as she glanced up from the counter.
“Just like old times, isn’t it?”
Got you, Seth thought. Appearances had always been important to his father.
Reluctantly, Frank re-entered the meeting room, taking in Seth’s suit and the manila folder lying on the table, the documents neatly lined up in front of him. “Haven’t we done this already?” he demanded in a low growl.
“I’m here to represent Mum’s interests.” Seth gestured to a chair. “Why doesn’t she know the business is in financial trouble?”
“For God’s sake.” Hastily, his father shut the door. “You haven’t told her that, have you? She didn’t say anything last night.”
Seth gestured to the chair again, waiting until Frank sat. “Not yet…not ever if I can make you see sense. Isn’t it better to let me invest than sell it at a loss? And for what, Dad, pride?”
Frank went to speak and Seth held up a hand. “I’m not finished. I know we don’t see eye-to-eye but we’re still family. Please. Let me help, for Mum and Janey’s sake, if not your own. I had my accountant prepare some financial statements.” He pushed one of the documents across the table. “I can go up to two hundred grand.”
“I don’t need your money.” Impatiently, his father pushed it back. “The business is doing great, better than ever.”
Seth slammed his palm down on the table, making him jump. “Don’t bullshit me. You said you were being forced to sell.”
“No, I said I had no choice.” Frank was silent a moment, as though weighing his next words. “I had a health scare a while back. A transient ischemic attack—TIA, they call it.”
“A stroke?”
“Not as bad,” his father blustered. “A clot blocks blood supply to the brain, but only briefly. That’s why I’m not driving. I’m on a stand-down period for six months because it happened while I was behind the wheel.”
“Jesus, Dad.” So that’s why Jeff was giving him rides to work. “Are you okay?”
Frank swatted his concern aside. “I’m fine as long as I keep my blood pressure down. Eat healthy, exercise, reduce my hours—all the boring stuff.”
Other puzzle pieces fell into place. All Bran, not pancakes, the morning walk to the shop for the newspaper.
“When I thought I was on my deathbed I foolishly promised your mother
I’d sell and she’s holding me to it.” Frank scowled.
“Wait…back up.” Seth was struggling to process. “When did this happen?”
“May.” And it was November.
“But…no one phoned me.”
“I told them not to.” Frank shrugged, looked at his hands. “I didn’t want to make a fuss.”
“Dad, you thought you were on your deathbed. That means it was serious.”
“You were busy in your new life.” There was a note in his voice that was almost triumph.
The final puzzle piece fell into place. And you were punishing me. He knew it as clearly as if Frank had set the words to music. Discordant, clashing, ear-splitting music. “And if it had been a major stroke?” he challenged. “If you’d died? Well, that would have shown me, wouldn’t it, Dad?”
His father’s gaze slid away from his. “Don’t be childish.”
“I had a right to know. I resigned from the job, not being your son.”
Still, Frank couldn’t meet his eyes. “Now you’re being melodramatic.”
Seth stood, his anger compressing and solidifying into something impervious and hard. “And all the family knew,” he said slowly. Mum. Janey. Dad’s brother and sister. Seth’s cousins. The whole goddamn family. And no one broke rank and called him.
He gathered his documents and replaced them in the manila folder, neatly and precisely. “You talk about loyalty, but where’s your loyalty to me? From the moment I chose a different road you’ve blanked me.” He felt nothing except a kind of bitter relief. “Congratulations, you win.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a smart man.” He loosened his tie and ripped it off, dropping it on the boardroom table where it coiled like a venomous snake. “Work it out.”
Seth caught a cab home and packed, then began scrawling a note for his mother who was out shopping, then scrunched it up and gave her the courtesy of a phone call. Gayle was upset when he told her why he was leaving and full of excuses.
“Frank made me promise in the ambulance that I wouldn’t call you. Made everyone promise. He was agitated, we needed to calm him down.”
