What Makes a Family

by Debbie Macomber

  “Thank you.” Joanna wasn’t sure what to think about being classified as a “good woman.” It made her wonder who Tanner had dated before he’d met her. She’d never asked him about his social life before he’d moved to Spokane—or even after. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. No doubt he’d made quite a splash when he came to town. Rich, handsome, available men were a rare commodity these days. It was a wonder he hadn’t been snatched up long before now.

  Five minutes later, Joanna had composed herself enough to rejoin the party. Tanner was at her side within a few seconds, noticeably irritable and short-tempered.

  “I’ve been searching all over for you,” he said, frowning heavily.

  Joanna let that remark slide. “I thought you were otherwise occupied.”

  “Why’d you let that she-cat walk off with me like that?” His eyes were hot with fury. “Couldn’t you tell I wanted out? Good Lord, woman, what do I have to do, flash flags?”

  “No.” A waiter walked past with a loaded tray, and Joanna deftly reached out and helped herself to another glass of champagne.

  Just as smoothly, Tanner removed it from her fingers. “I think you’ve had enough.”

  Joanna took the glass back from him. She might not completely understand what was happening to her this evening, but she certainly didn’t like his attitude. “Excuse me, Tanner, but I am perfectly capable of determining my own limit.”

  His frown darkened into a scowl. “It’s taken me the last twenty minutes to extract myself from her claws. The least you could have done was stick around instead of doing a disappearing act.”

  “No way.” Being married to Davey all those years had taught her more than one valuable lesson. If her ex-husband, Tanner, or any other man, for that matter, expected her to make a scene over another woman, it wouldn’t work. Joanna was through with those kinds of destructive games.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I’m just not the jealous type. If you were to go home with Blaise, that’d be fine with me. In fact, you could leave with her right now. I’ll grab a cab. I’m really not up to playing the role of a jealous girlfriend because another woman happens to show some interest in you. Nor am I willing to find a flimsy excuse to extract you from her clutches. You look more than capable of doing that yourself.”

  “You honestly want me to leave with Blaise?” His words were low and hard.

  Joanna made a show of shrugging. “It’s entirely up to you—you’re free to do as you please. Actually you might be doing me a favour.”

  Joanna couldn’t remember ever seeing a man more angry. His eyes seemed to spit fire at her. His jaws clamped together tightly, and he held himself with such an unnatural stiffness, it was surprising that something in his body didn’t crack. She observed all this in some distant part of her mind, her concentration focused on preserving her facade of unconcern.

  “I’m beginning to understand Davey,” he said, his tone as cold as an arctic wind. “Has it ever occurred to you that your ex-husband turned to other women out of a desperate need to know you cared?”

  Tanner’s words hurt more than any physical blow could have. Joanna’s breath caught in her throat, though she did her best to disguise the pain his remark had inflicted. When she was finally able to breathe, the words tumbled from her lips. “No. Funny, I never thought of that.” She paused and searched the room. “Pick a woman then, any woman will do, and I’ll slug it out with her.”

  “Joanna, stop it,” Tanner hissed.

  “You mean you don’t want me to fight?”

  He closed his eyes as if seeking patience. “No.”

  Dramatically, Joanna placed her hand over her heart. “Thank goodness. I don’t know how I’d ever explain a black eye to Kristen.”

  Dinner was about to be served, and, tucking his hand under her elbow, Tanner led Joanna into the banquet room, which was quickly filling up.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that about Davey,” Tanner whispered as they strolled toward the dining room. “I realize you’re nervous, but no one would ever know it—except me. We’ll discuss this Blaise thing later.”

  Joanna nodded, feeling subdued now, accepting his apology. She realized that she’d panicked earlier, and not because this was an important social event, either. She’d attended enough business dinners in her career to know she hadn’t made a fool of herself. What disturbed her so much was the knowledge that she’d fallen in love with Tanner.

  To add to Joanna’s dismay, she discovered that she was expected to sit at the head table between Tanner and John Becky. She trembled at the thought, but she wasn’t about to let anyone see her nervousness.

  “Don’t worry,” Tanner said, stroking her hand after they were seated. “Everyone who’s met you has been impressed.”

  His statement was meant to lend her courage; unfortunately it had the opposite effect. What had she said or done to impress anyone?

  When the evening was finally over, Tanner appeared to be as eager to escape as she was. With a minimum of fuss, they made their farewells and were gone.

  Once in the car, Tanner didn’t speak. But when he parked in front of the house, he turned off the car engine and said quietly, “Invite me in for coffee.”

  It was on the tip of Joanna’s tongue to tell him she had a headache, which was fast becoming the truth, but delaying the inevitable wouldn’t help either of them.

  “Okay,” she mumbled.

  The house was quiet, and Sally was asleep on the sofa. Joanna paid her and waited on the front porch while the teenager ran across the street to her own house. Gathering her courage, she walked into the kitchen. Tanner had put the water and ground coffee into the machine and taken two cups down from the cupboard.

  “Okay,” he said, turning around to face her, “I want to know what’s wrong.”

  The bewilderment in his eyes made Joanna raise her chin an extra notch. Then she remembered Kristen doing the same thing when she’d questioned her about her argument with Nicole, and the recollection wasn’t comforting.

  Joanna was actually surprised Tanner had guessed anything was wrong. She thought she’d done a brilliant job of disguising her distress. She’d done her best to say and do all the right things. When Tanner had stood up, after the meal, to give his talk, she’d whispered encouragement and smiled at him. Throughout the rest of the evening, she’d chatted easily with both Tanner and John Becky.

  Now she had to try to explain something she barely understood herself.

  “I don’t think I ever realized what an important man you are,” she said, struggling to find her voice. “I’ve always seen you as Nicole’s father, the man who was crazy enough to agree to a slumber party for his daughter’s birthday. The man who called and disguised his voice so Kristen wouldn’t recognize it. That’s the man I know, not the one tonight who stood before a filled banquet room and promised growth and prosperity for our city. Not the man who charts the destiny of an entire community.”

  Tanner glared at her. “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “You play in the big league. I’m in the minors.”

  Tanner’s gaze clouded with confusion. “I’m talking about our relationship and you’re discussing baseball!”

  Pulling out a kitchen chair, Joanna sat in it and took a deep breath. The best place to start, she decided, was the beginning. “You have to understand that I didn’t come away from my marriage without a few quirks.”

  Tanner started pacing, clearly not in the mood to sit still. “Quirks? You call what happened with Blaise a quirk? I call it loony. Some woman I don’t know from Adam comes up to me—”

  “Eve,” Joanna inserted, and when he stared at her, uncomprehending, she elaborated. “Since Blaise Ferguson’s a woman, you don’t know her from Eve.”

  “Whatever!”

  “Well, it does make a difference.” The coffee had finished filtering into the pot, so Joanna got up and poured them each a cup. Holding hers in both hands, she leaned against the cou
nter and took a tentative sip.

  “Some woman I don’t know from Eve,” Tanner tried again, “comes up to me, and you act as if you can’t wait to get me out of your hair.”

  “You acted as if you expected me to come to your rescue. Honestly, Tanner, you’re a big boy. I assumed you could take care of yourself.”

  “You looked more than happy to see me go with her.”

  “That’s not true. I was content where I was.” Joanna knew they were sidestepping the real issue, but this other business seemed to concern Tanner more.

  “You were content to go into hiding.”

  “If you’re looking for someone to fly into a jealous rage every time another woman winks at you, you’ll need to look elsewhere.”

  Tanner did some more pacing, his steps growing longer and heavier with each circuit of the kitchen. “Explain what you meant when you said you didn’t come away from your marriage without a few quirks.”

  “It’s simply really,” she said, making light of it. “Davey used to get a kick out of introducing me to his women friends. Everyone in the room knew what he was doing, except me. I was so stupid, so blind, that I just didn’t know any better. Once the scales fell from my eyes, I was astonished at what a complete fool I’d been. But when I became wise to his ways, it was much worse. Every time he introduced me to a woman, I’d be filled with suspicion. Was Davey involved with her, or wasn’t he? The only thing left for me to do was hold my head high and smile.” Her voice was growing tighter with every word, cracking just as she finished.

  Tanner walked toward her and reached out his hands as though to comfort her. “Joanna, listen—”

  “No.” She set her coffee aside and wrapped her arms around her middle. “I feel honoured, Tanner, that you would ask me to attend this important dinner with you tonight. I think we both learned something valuable from the experience. At least, I know I did.”

  “Joanna—”

  “No,” she cut in again, “let me finish, please. Although it’s difficult to say this, it needs to be said. We’re not right for each other. We’ve been so caught up in everything we had in common and what good friends the girls are and how wonderful it felt to…be together, we didn’t stop to notice that we live in different worlds.” She paused and gathered her resolve before continuing. “Knowing you and becoming your friend has been wonderful, but anything beyond that just isn’t going to work.”

  “The only thing I got carried away with was you, Joanna. The girls have nothing to do with it.”

  “I feel good that you would say that, I really do, but we both lost sight of the fact that neither one of us wants to become involved. That had never been our intention. Something happened, and I’m not sure when or why, but suddenly everything is so intense between us. It’s got to stop before we end up really hurting each other.”

  Tanner seemed to mull over her words. “You’re so frightened of giving another man the power to hurt you that you can’t see anything else, can you?” His brooding, confused look was back. “I told you this once, but it didn’t seem to sink into that head of yours—I’m never going to do the things Davey did. We’re two entirely different men, and it’s time you realized that.”

  “What you say may very well be true, Tanner, but I don’t see what difference it’s going to make. Because I have no intention of involving myself in another relationship.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, Joanna, we’re already involved.”

  “Roller-skating in the couples round doesn’t qualify as being involved to me,” she said, in a futile attempt at humor. It fell flat.

  Tanner was the first to break the heavy silence that followed. “You’ve obviously got some thinking to do,” he said wearily. “For that matter, so do I. Call me, Joanna, when you’re in the mood to be reasonable.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Hi, Mom,” Kristen said, slumping down on the sofa beside Joanna. “I hope you know I’m bored out of my mind,” she said, and sighed deeply.

  Joanna was busy counting the stitches on her knitting needle and didn’t pause to answer until she’d finished. “What about your homework?”

  “Cute, Mom, real cute. It’s spring break—I don’t have any homework.”

  “Right. Phone Nicole then. I bet she’ll commiserate with you.” And she might even give Kristen some information about Tanner. He’d walked out of her house, and although she’d thought her heart would break she’d let him go. Since then, she’d reconsidered. She was dying to hear something from Tanner. Anything. But she hadn’t—not since the party more than a week earlier, and each passing day seemed like a lifetime.

  “Calling Nicole is a nothing idea.”

  “I could suggest you clean your room.”

  “Funny, Mom, real funny.”

  “Gee, I’m funny and cute all in one evening. How’d I get so lucky?”

  Not bothering to answer, Kristen reached for a magazine and idly thumbed through the pages, not finding a single picture or article worth more than a fleeting glance. She set it aside and reached for another. By the time she’d gone through the four magazines resting on top of the coffee table, Joanna was losing her patience.

  “Call Nicole.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t.”

  That didn’t make much sense to Joanna. And suggesting that Kristen phone Nicole was another sign of her willingness to settle this rift between her and Tanner. It had been so long since she’d last seen or heard from him. Ten interminable days, and with each one that passed she missed him more. She’d debated long and hard about calling him, wavering with indecision, battling with her pride. What she’d told him that night had been the truth—they did live in different worlds. But she’d overreacted at the dinner party, and now she felt guilty about how the evening had gone. When he’d left the house, Tanner had suggested she call him when she was ready to be reasonable. Well, she’d been ready the following morning, ready to acknowledge her fault. And her need. But pride held her back. And with each passing day, it became more difficult to swallow that pride.

  “You know I can’t call Nicole,” Kristen whined.

  “Why not? Did you have another argument?” Joanna asked without looking at her daughter. Her mind was preoccupied with counting stitches. She always knitted when she was frustrated with herself; it was a form of self-punishment, she suspected wryly.

  “We never fight. Not anymore. Nicole’s in West Virginia.”

  Joanna paused and carefully set the knitting needles down on her lap. “Oh? What’s she doing there?”

  “I think she went to visit her mother.”

  “Her mother?” It took some effort to keep her heart from exploding in her throat. According to Tanner, Nicole hadn’t seen or heard from Carmen in three years. His biggest worry, he’d told her, was that someday his ex-wife would develop an interest in their daughter and steal her away from him. “Nicole is with her mother?” Joanna repeated, to be certain she’d heard Kristen correctly.

  “You knew that.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. I told you she was leaving last Sunday. Remember?”

  Vaguely, Joanna recalled the conversation—she’d been peeling potatoes at the sink—but for the last week, every time Kristen mentioned either Tanner or Nicole, Joanna had made an effort to tune her daughter out. Now she was hungry for information, starving for every tidbit Kristen was willing to feed her.

  The eleven-year-old straightened and stared at her mother. “Didn’t Mr. Lund mention Nicole was leaving?”

  “Er, no.”

  Kristen sighed and threw herself against the back of the sofa. “You haven’t been seeing much of him lately, have you?”

  “Er, no.”

  Kristen picked up Joanna’s hand and patted it gently. “You two had a fight?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Her daughter’s hand continued its soothing action. “Okay, tell me all about it. Don’t
hold back a single thing—you need to talk this out. Bare your soul.”

  “Kristen!”

  “Mom, you need this. Releasing your anger and frustration will help. You’ve got to work out all that inner agitation and responsive turbulence. It’s disrupting your emotional poise. Seriously, Mom, have you ever considered Rolfing?”

  “Emotional poise? Responsive turbulence? Where’d you hear about that? Where’d you hear about Rolfing?”

  Kristen blinked and cocked her head to one side, doing her best to look concerned and sympathetic. “Oprah Winfrey.”

  “I see,” Joanna muttered, and rolled her eyes.

  “Are you or are you not going to tell me all about it?”

  “No, I am not!”

  Kristen released a deep sigh that expressed her keen disappointment. “I thought not. When it comes to Nicole’s dad, you never want to talk about it. It’s like a deep dark secret the two of you keep from Nicole and me. Well, that’s all right—we’re doing our best to understand. You don’t want us to get our hopes up that you two might be interested in each other. I can accept that, although I consider it grossly unfair.” She stood up and gazed at her mother with undisguised longing, then loudly slapped her hands against her sides. “I’m perfectly content to live the way we do…but it sure would be nice to have a baby sister to dress up. And you know how I’ve always wanted a brother.”

  “Kristen!”

  “No, Mom.” She held up her hand as though she were stopping a freight train. “Really, I do understand. You and I get along fine the way we are. I guess we don’t need to complicate our lives with Nicole and her dad. That could even cause real problems.”

  For the first time, her daughter was making sense.

  “Although heaven knows, I can’t remember what it’s like to be part of a real family.”

  “Kristen, that’s enough,” Joanna cried, shaking her head. Her daughter was invoking so much guilt that Joanna was beginning to hear violins in the background. “You and I are a real family.”

  “But, Mom, it could be so much better.” Kristen sank down beside Joanna again and crossed her legs. Obviously her argument had long since been prepared, and without pausing to breathe between sentences, she proceeded to list the advantages of joining the two families.