Kitabı oxu: «Matt's Family»

CHAPTER ONE

May, 2000

MATT WOKE UP as his wife of almost a year slipped out of bed and left their room. He squinted at the clock. Two-thirty, later than usual. She was often out of bed by midnight or one.

Staring up at the ceiling, he listened to Kristin move through the house. Minutes passed, then half an hour. The microwave beeped—she’d made herself some tea. A faint glow at the doorway indicated she’d switched on a lamp.

So here they were again, him lying in the dark, waiting, while she sat in the kitchen downstairs, thinking. About what?

Did she think about the same things he did? Did she wonder how their life could be so good…yet so wrong? How two people could live together and, at the same time, be so far apart?

He rolled to his side, facing the door. He’d made love with Kris just a few hours ago. Tonight, as always, she’d given him more pleasure than any man had a right to know. She gave him everything, including her own satisfaction. Her whispers, her sighs, the shudders that ran through her body as he touched and kissed and moved—every reaction conveyed Kristin’s delight in what he did.

But she never asked, dammit. Never demanded. Never abandoned herself, selfish—even helpless—in her need for him. After nearly a year together, sex seemed almost like a contest to see who could please whom the most. A quid pro quo kind of experience—neither of them relaxed enough to simply take.

Matt knew he never felt really at ease—because he never knew what Kris was thinking anymore. Was she afraid to tell him what she wanted because she thought he would resent the implication that he’d failed? Or was sex something she did because she saw it as her responsibility?

Was the whole marriage simply a matter of responsibility? A debt to be paid?

He closed his eyes at the painful grip of that thought. The idea that Kris had married him because she owed him hurt too much to consider.

In the hallway, her footsteps padded lightly toward their door. She eased back into bed, barely disturbing the mattress or the covers. If he wanted, Matt could pretend he hadn’t known she was gone.

That wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to take her again—make love to his wife until she was so crazy she couldn’t think. Love her until she forgot about loving him back, until she just accepted everything he had to give, until she came apart in his arms and cried out his name. Then he’d know for sure she trusted him, needed him. Wanted him.

But when he finally turned over, he heard her soft, even breaths. She’d fallen asleep. He could wake her, and she would welcome him. Duty, or desire? Matt had no way to know. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to find out.

And so he just laid his hand lightly on the blanket covering her hip, and forced himself back to sleep.

“THAT’S PRETTY, Mommy!”

“Thanks, Jenny.” Kristin patted her younger daughter’s blond head and stepped back from the counter to survey the results of her morning’s work—a three-layer chocolate cake, iced with butter-cream frosting and decorated with an American flag. “I think so, too.”

The real question was whether her mother-in-law would agree. For the first time in eight years, Matt’s mother had allowed Kristin to contribute to the family’s Memorial Day picnic menu. A bowl of potato salad waited in the refrigerator, as picture perfect as she could make it. Her cake looked professional, if she did say so herself. Surely even Mrs. Brennan would be pleased.

Running footsteps sounded in the family room. Eight-year-old Erin dashed into the kitchen, sun-streaked hair flying. Her perpetual shadow trotted close behind. Buster—a dog of mixed ancestry—was nearly as tall as Erin when he stood on his hind legs, and weighed more. He followed her as far as he was allowed and slept at her feet every night, a long-haired, black-and-white bodyguard.

“Hey, Jenny, look what I found under my bed!” Erin waved a purple stuffed toy.

“That’s mine.” Jenny climbed off the stool at the counter. “Give me my dragon back.”

“I found it, I get to keep it.” Erin held the dragon above her head.

Jenny jumped, but couldn’t reach. “Mommy, tell her to give me my dragon that Daddy got for me!”

Kristin picked up the cake and held it protectively. “Erin, give Jenny her dragon. You’ve got one of your own.” As she pivoted toward the other side of the kitchen, a warm, furry form wrapped itself between her ankles.

“Buster!” She shuffled her feet, trying to step free. The dog gave a loud yelp as her bare heel came down on his paw. Kristin jumped, shifted her weight…and lost control of the cake. With a slurp, the plate tilted inward, pressing the American flag into the front of her shirt.

Jenny gasped. “Mommy, you hurt Buster!” She broke into tears.

Kristin stood frozen, eyes closed in horror, hands holding the plate against her chest.

Jenny cried louder, working up to a real tantrum. Kristin finally jerked herself into motion and eased the cake back onto the plate. “Hush, Jenny, love. Let’s look at Buster’s paw, okay?” She set the plate on the counter, then knelt in front of the dog, who immediately licked at her shirt. “Which paw did I get, Buster? This one?” He wagged his black-and-white plume of a tail as she checked all four feet. “He’s fine, Jenny. Don’t worry.”

Erin stared at her from the end of the counter. “Mommy, you’ve got icing all over you!”

Kristin sighed. “I know.” The top of the cake looked like a bomb crater. So much for her perfect Memorial Day dessert.

She was whipping icing and wiping tears out of her eyes when Matt came through the door. “Hey, Kris—whoa! Did a hurricane blow through?”

Kristin glanced at his immaculate uniform, around the wrecked kitchen, at the ruined cake and her filthy shirt, and blinked back more tears.

“I had a problem with the cake, that’s all.”

He frowned. “I thought you were making potato salad.”

“I did.” She added more sugar to the bowl. “I said I’d bring dessert, too.”

“That doesn’t leave much for anybody else to cook.”

She shook her head. “Of course it does. Sarah and Luke are bringing a green salad and baked beans. Your mother and dad are supplying the hamburgers—”

Matt raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Okay, okay. I just meant you shouldn’t work so hard.” He skimmed a dollop of icing off her neck and sucked it off his finger. “Mmm. You taste wonderful.” The kiss he placed under her ear sent a sweet shiver down her spine. “Are the girls ready?”

“Not yet. I’ll be finished in a few minutes.”

“I’ll get them dressed.” He headed for the stairs. Kristin thought about calling him back—the girls weren’t exactly cooperating today. But they liked going to their grandparents’ house. Maybe they wouldn’t put up a fuss. If they did, Matt could handle it. Right?

Thirty minutes later, with a smooth, plain coat of icing on the cake, Kristin hurried down the hallway to the bedrooms. She peeked into Jenny’s and found it empty. But the outfit she’d ironed earlier this morning—the one Matt’s mother had given them—still lay on the bed. What was Jenny wearing?

Erin’s nice clothes lay crumpled on the floor of her room. She picked them up. “Girls? Matt? Where are you?”

“We’re in the bathroom, Kris.” His voice sounded tired.

She pushed open the door of the big yellow bathroom. Matt sat on the floor with his elbows propped on his bent knees, a spray bottle in one hand, a comb in the other. Facing him stood Erin and Jenny, wrapped in their towels, both with wet, tangled hair.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t you dressed?”

Matt ran a hand over his head, then simply looked at the girls. Erin stuck out her lower lip. “It hurts when he combs my hair.”

Kristin sighed. “Erin, you say it hurts when I comb your hair. We’re as gentle as we can be. Your hair has to be combed. Did you use the untangler spray?”

Saying nothing, Matt held up the bottle.

She took it from him. “Okay, I’ll spray it again. I’ll do your hair, Erin, and Matt can do Jenny’s. We only have a few minutes to get ready.”

But Jenny backed up against the vanity. “My hair hurts, too. And he got soap in my eyes.”

Jenny always complained of soap in her eyes when Matt was in charge of bath time. This wasn’t a real grievance. This was mutiny, plain and simple.

And the grimness in Matt’s face, a despair he was trying his best to hide, testified to the mutiny’s effect.

Kristin fought down a surge of irritation. “Well, we could stay home and let you both sit in your rooms with tangled hair. But that would disappoint Grandmom and Granddad, who are looking forward to seeing you.” She held out her hand to Matt.

He slapped the comb onto her palm. Getting neatly to his feet, he stepped by her to the door. “I’ll change clothes,” he said quietly. And was gone.

“I’ll comb hair.” Kristin turned Erin around with a firm hand. “And I don’t want to hear any complaints from either of you. We’re going to be late, as it is.”

And they were. By the time they got the girls settled in the car and fought beach traffic, they were a long, tense, forty minutes late.

Wishing the afternoon were already over, Matt parked the van in his parents’ driveway and released the door lock. As if they’d been freed from jail, Erin and Jenny ran through the grass and around the back of the house to the deck on the beach.

When he opened Kristin’s door, she took a deep breath and slid carefully to the ground, cradling the covered cake. Then she looked up at him somberly. “I’m sorry about the girls.”

His resentment melted. He smiled a little and set his hand along the angle of her jaw, stroking his thumb across her smooth cheek. “I’ll be okay.”

Eyes closed, she pressed her head into his palm for a second, then stepped away. “We’d better get inside.”

“If you say so.” Matt followed her toward the kitchen door, carrying the potato salad and appreciating the chance to watch Kristin from the back. Bright sunlight did great things for her soft tan and shiny hair. Her dark-blue sleeveless shirt showed off her arms, while white shorts and sandals left a nice length of her legs in view. The first time he’d seen her, he’d known she was the prettiest, sexiest girl he would ever meet. More than ten years later, he’d never encountered another woman who could make him change his mind.

His mother looked up in surprise as they stepped through the kitchen door. “I wondered what had happened to you. It’s after four-thirty.” She brushed at her silver bangs with a fingertip and stared at Kristin expectantly.

Matt stepped forward to run interference. He bent slightly to kiss Elena Brennan’s cheek. “Sorry, Mom. Sometimes the girls need more time than we think they will. How are you?”

“Well, thank you.” She took the bowl of potato salad out of his hands and placed it precisely on the counter. “Your father is on the deck with Luke and Sarah.”

Kristin came closer. “Where shall I put the cake?”

Elena arched her eyebrows. “Oh, I didn’t think you’d have time to make dessert. Let’s put yours over here beside mine.”

Kristin squeezed her eyes closed as she relinquished the plate. Matt didn’t see a problem with the nice, smooth icing…until his mother set Kristin’s cake next to her own berry-laden version. Suddenly, the white cake looked a little drab.

He put a hand on Kristin’s shoulder. “Anything else we can do, Mom?”

His mother smoothed her red slacks over her still-slim hips. “No, dear. I believe everything is just about ready. Why don’t you start the grill?”

“Sure.” He moved Kristin ahead of him. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispered in her ear as he opened the door onto the deck.

Looking back over her shoulder, she gave him a rigid smile. “Worry about what?”

Matt stared at her back as she walked outside. As difficult as his mother could be, Kris would never admit to being upset. That she couldn’t share something so obvious, so basically harmless, indicated a significant lack of trust.

Or was Kris hiding something so terrible she couldn’t share anything with him, in case the worst slipped out? What the hell would “the worst” be?

“Well, Matt, it’s about time you showed up.” Across the deck, his father sat beneath an umbrella, filling his pipe. “Your mother’s been wondering.”

“Getting two little girls ready for a party doesn’t always go smoothly, Dad.” He reached out to shake the Colonel’s hand as Kristin sat down on the glider nearby.

“Isn’t that the truth?” The man sitting in the chair to the Colonel’s left set down his drink.

Matt turned to face his brother’s wide grin. “Yeah—I’m always amazed at how long it takes.” They shook hands amiably enough, then Matt looked to Luke’s right and smiled at his new sister-in-law. “Hey, Sarah. How are you?”

“Wonderful.” Her clear, sunny expression reminded him of Kristin…back in the old days. “When I called this morning, your wife said you’d gone to work. It’s a holiday, remember?”

He eased down on the glider beside Kris and put his arm along the back, behind her shoulders. “Just paperwork. I get a lot done with nobody else there.”

The Colonel snorted as he lit his pipe. “It’s about time you gave up this recruiting nonsense, isn’t it? Get back to the real Army?”

“I’m still thinking things over, Dad.” Matt relaxed his clenched fist. “It’s a big decision now that I’ve got a family.”

“I’d imagine your commanding officer is wondering what you’re waiting for.” His father wouldn’t let go of his point.

“I haven’t heard anything from him.” Matt tapped Kristin on the shoulder. “Where’d the girls go?”

“They’re playing in the sand at the bottom of the steps,” she said, without meeting his eyes.

Luke sat forward in his chair. “Do I have time to take them for a walk before we eat?”

Matt pulled in a deep breath against the resistance he couldn’t extinguish. “Since I haven’t started the grill yet, I’d say you’ve got about twenty minutes.”

“That’ll be great.” Luke and Sarah crossed the deck arm in arm and descended the steps. “Hey, munchkins.” His words blew back on the wind from the sea. “Want to walk down by the waves?”

“Sure, Daddy!” Erin loved the ocean.

“Can you carry me, Daddy?” And Jenny loved her father.

The voices faded as the foursome approached the water. Matt sat still, waiting for feeling and function to come back to his brain.

After the bath fiasco this afternoon, he should know what to expect. As far as Erin and Jenny knew, Luke was their father. The hard part for them was understanding what had changed, why their mother had divorced him and married another man.

The hard part for Matt was being that other man.

SUDDENLY UNABLE to sit still, Kristin got up and walked to the deck railing to stare out toward the ocean. Usually the sound of the waves and the warmth of the sun made life seem simpler, easier to manage.

Not today. Not with Matt closed off from her by a wall of hurt and misunderstanding. Not when she just kept making mistakes, each one more destructive than the last. Like getting pregnant nine years ago without being married. Then getting married to Luke because her baby’s father—Matt—was dead. And, finally, divorcing Luke and marrying Matt.

Out by the water, Luke and Sarah chased the girls. Jenny squealed as Luke caught her around the waist and lifted her high in the air. They made quite a picture—the handsome black-haired man and his precious silver-blond daughter.

Erin outran Sarah, then kept on running, just for the sheer joy of moving. She loved being outside, like her father. And she moved with the same easy stride, the same long-legged grace Kristin had always adored in Matt. Erin would be tall one day, with Matt’s blue eyes and his serious, considering stare. Luke was tall, too—cops had to be a certain height—but his eyes were a laughing gray and his body more compact than his brother’s.

When would Erin notice the differences? When would she ask to be told the truth?

“Is the grill ready, Matt?” Mrs. Brennan stepped out onto the deck.

“Yes, ma’am. Whenever you are.”

“Where are the girls?”

“On the beach with Luke and Sarah.”

Even from across the deck, Mrs. Brennan’s sigh indicated impatience. “Why does he always take them away just when we’re ready to eat?”

Matt didn’t answer. Kristin glanced at his back, which was all she could see, then turned again to the ocean and her own thoughts. Almost two years ago, before he’d even asked her to marry him, she’d made Matt a promise. One day, as soon as possible, Erin would be told that she was Matt’s daughter, as Jenny was Luke’s.

Every time Kristin thought about explaining, though, she felt physically sick. The revelations wouldn’t stop with Erin. Matt’s parents—and her own—would have to be told. When Erin was born, Kristin had let them all assume she was Luke’s daughter. Now everyone would be privy to the mistakes she had made, the poor judgment she’d used. Could she ever look anybody in the face again?

Especially her daughter?

Out on the beach, Erin stopped her cartwheels and waved. Kristin waved back, then motioned for them to come in. Mrs. Brennan would be waiting.

Matt was waiting, too. He never said a word, but Kristin could see the question in his eyes. When? he wanted to know. When can I tell her she’s mine?

She turned to watch her husband as he stood at the grill, flipping burgers and hot dogs. His straight back, his square shoulders filling out his blue knit shirt, were as much a part of him as his military haircut and his natural air of command.

But she could read the tension in his body. Luke’s relationship with the girls tortured Matt. Erin and Jenny were comfortable around Luke, sure of themselves and him. They spoke the same shorthand language, as people who lived—and loved—together often did. Erin and Jenny and Luke had been a family.

Until Kristin tore them apart.

BEFORE MRS. BRENNAN could get really upset, Luke brought the girls back. They rushed up the steps and across the deck toward the house. Erin stopped in the doorway. “Come on, Mommy. Let’s eat!”

Kristin joined the rest of the family in the kitchen. The air-conditioning raised goose bumps on her skin. She rubbed her arms, trying to get warm.

“Memorial Day is important.” Seated at the kitchen table with an arm around each granddaughter, Colonel Brennan started his annual remembrance speech. “Americans should take time to remember the men who have died serving their country.”

“And women,” Sarah said quietly. Kristin would never have been confident enough to make that comment, but Luke’s wife possessed a special brand of courage.

With a glance at his daughter-in-law, the Colonel cleared his throat. “For five years our family celebrated this day thinking we had lost someone we loved in the cause of freedom.”

Kristin fought back a shudder. For five years she’d thought Matt was dead, because the Army said so. She’d made herself a life during that time. A different one than she’d hoped for, true. But her daughters had been happy, and safe. Luke was a good man and a great dad.

The Colonel continued his comments. “Now we celebrate in thankfulness at having him returned to us.”

Then Matt came back. And everything changed.

Beside her, he shifted his weight. Kristin glanced up at his face and saw that his cheeks had reddened. His embarrassment was endearing, and she smiled at him, linking her elbow through his. He pressed her arm closer into his side.

“Daddy Matt was gone for five years?” Erin counted on her fingers. “He left before Jenny was born?”

Tension struck the room like a lightning bolt. Across the counter, Luke gave a quick smile and a small shrug, which left the answer up to Kristin. “That’s true, Erin,” she said. “Even—even before you were born.” Was that the right thing to say?

“Mommy, did you know Daddy Matt before I was born?”

“Of course, love. I knew…all the Brennans then, and for a long time before.” Matt had gone still as a stone beside her.

“But—” Erin stopped and seemed to reconsider her question.

“I’m hungry,” Jenny announced with a five-year-old’s directness.

“Of course, Jennifer, dear.” Mrs. Brennan placed a smooth, pale hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Let your grandfather say grace, and I’ll make you a plate.”

During the prayer, Matt’s stiffness subsided. He didn’t draw away from Kristin, but he didn’t press her close again, either. Had she disappointed him? Should she have told the whole story right then, to everyone?

What, in God’s name, could she say?

With dinner finished and cleaned up—a task for which Mrs. Brennan refused to accept any help—the adults sat on the deck finishing coffee while the girls splashed in the pool. Matt seemed preoccupied—Kristin could guess with what.