Dating A Silver Fox (Never Too Late) (21 page)

Jane put her face in her hand. “That’s definitely TMI, Dad.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to want to believe the important thing,” Morrie said, sipping his water.

Jane looked over her father’s shoulder and watched Lydia walk in with the woman she had been with before.

“Don’t look now, but your grumpy girlfriend just walked in,” Jane said, unable to stop the sarcasm, even when her father gave her a hard look. She was even more surprised when both women stopped by the table on the way to theirs.

“Morrison—I mean, hello, Morrie. Hello Jane. The ziti looks good today,” Lydia said brightly, trying to make conversation to cover up the fact that she felt her face blushing under his gaze. She just hoped Morrie wouldn’t get too friendly in public. What would she do if he tried to kiss her? Surely he wouldn’t—would he? Surely not in front of Lauren. Or Jane.

Morrie forked a piece of ziti from the side of his plate where he hadn’t touched his food yet and held it up to Lydia’s mouth. “Try this. I know it’s probably not on Tuesday’s menu in your rotation, but you really shouldn’t miss this.”

Not sure how rude refusing would be, and not wanting to hurt his feelings again like she had last night, Lydia leaned forward and quickly scooped the ziti off his fork as if she did it every day. She made a show of chewing thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. It really was very good. And now she wanted ziti, even if it did have red meat in it. She also wouldn’t have minded a kiss and found herself counting how long it was going to be before they were alone again.

“Knowing you is to face chaos every day,” Lydia said sincerely. “You just messed up my plans, Morrie Fox. Now I’m going to have to have the ziti.”

Morrie squirmed in his seat, hoping with everything in him that one day the woman would say that exact thing about him that she’d just said about the food. He felt his face growing warm with his thoughts.

Then he noticed both Lauren and Jane were staring at him and Lydia in stunned shock, while the waiting hostess was standing mouth open. His mouth twitched at the proof of the chaos he was suddenly proud to be causing, and he thanked his long history in the kind of work that required poker face skills for his aplomb in not showing it.

“You won’t be sorry for trying something different,” Morrie said matching her sincerity, then turned his attention to his daughter. “Jane this is Lauren Gallagher—Lydia’s daughter. Lauren, this is my daughter, Jane Fox Waterfield.”

Morrie grinned when the two younger women shook hands, nodding without speaking. He guessed the shock hadn’t passed for them yet.

“We should get to our table. We’re holding the hostess up. Nice to see you both,” Lydia said politely.

“Good to see you too, my lovely grape,” Morrie said, winking at her.

“May I take a menu right now?” Lydia asked softly, taking one from the young woman’s hands when it was offered. Then she turned and smacked Morrie hard on the arm with it. “Stop calling me that, especially in public.”

“No,” Morrie answered, letting out the laugh he’d been holding inside. “I can’t. I want wine, Lydia. I want it more now than I ever have.”

Lydia turned to the hostess. “Please ask the sommelier to bring Mr. Fox a large glass of house white and put it on my ticket.”

She turned back to her torturer, who was grinning like the fool he was. “There. Problem solved. You now have enough wine to see you through the day.”

“Yes—I believe I do,” Morrie said thoughtfully, letting the grin finally drop from his eyes to his mouth. “See you soon, Lydia.”

Lydia shook her head without saying goodbye and walked away. Morrie couldn’t help laughing when she had to stop and let the hostess go by to show them which table. He planned to rock her composure for the rest of their lives just for the pleasure of seeing her off-balance.

“Morrison? Care to tell what that little drama was all about?” Jane demanded.

It was on the tip of his tongue to put his intentions into words, but he knew it would just spin Jane up to know he was in love with Lydia McCarthy. Maybe he’d tell Jane after she settled the deal on North Winds. Then she’d be too busy choosing a new project to dwell on his sanity over the woman he hoped might eventually become her stepmother.

“Did you ever read James Joyce?” Morrie asked.

“Only because some crazy literature teacher made me. That torture served me right for taking my boyfriend’s classes,” Jane said, going back to her food.

Morrie sighed at his daughter’s lack of a romantic soul. It was too bad, and she was too young not enjoy the poetry of life.

“If you didn’t appreciate Joyce, then you wouldn’t understand,” Morrie said, forking up another bite of pasta. A change of subject was in order. “So tell me about the offers on North Winds. Have you picked one yet?”

“Actually, I did,” Jane said, frowning across the restaurant at the woman who now owned most of her father’s attention.

Shaking off her concerns, Jane spent the rest of their lunch telling him about the strange exchange she’d had that morning with Harrison.

And how the company she’d ultimately picked had turned out to be Walter’s anyway.

Chapter 16

Regina had seen the notepaper clipped to the folder, and had meant to look at it. But by the time she had two tea mugs in hand and remembered it again, the folder and note were already securely tucked under her arm. Not wanting to set everything down just to read it, she walked to the room where Lydia waited and used her hip to open the already ajar door the rest of the way.

“Hello, Lydia, I made tea. . .oh.
Hello,
Morrie Fox
. You’re certainly not Lydia. Where’s Lydia?” Regina asked, staring at the concerned man sitting in a chair patiently waiting and looking a tad uncomfortable.

“Down the hall being sick,” Morrie said, frowning. “Sorry if I surprised you. The receptionist said you were with someone, so we couldn’t ask beforehand. Since we were both listed as your patients, we just sort of assumed it would be okay for us to come talk to you together. Lydia and I are involved.”

Her reply ended up being a non-committal sound followed by a shrug, not because she cared that they both came, but because Regina didn’t know what to say yet. Confessing that she already knew about them being a couple was not even an option on her list.

Taking the chair across from Morrison Fox, Regina put the tea mugs on a nearby table.

“Want some tea, Morrie?” she asked at last, pleased to find her tongue was going to work after all.

Morrie shook his head. “No thanks. But if you could fix it so Lydia doesn’t get sick every time she talks about us being together, I’d owe you for the rest of my life.”

Regina sighed and gave the obviously already-in-love man a sympathetic smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” She turned her head as Lydia gingerly opened the door and slipped back inside.

“Sorry,” Lydia said quickly, heading to the chair that Morrie patted with his hand. “Sorry I got wound up—again,” she repeated, looking at the man who smiled at her as she sat. “I can’t believe I’m throwing up in strange bathrooms as well as my own because of you.”

Morrie laughed. “Fine, go ahead and blame me. One day you’ll know I’m worth it.”

Lydia snorted and looked at Regina. “Sorry if I kept you waiting.”

Regina handed Lydia a cup of soothing chamomile and lemongrass tea. “You didn’t. I had just come in and found Morrie, which was a bit of a surprise. So the two of you are in a relationship?”

“Yes” Morrie answered.

At the same time, Lydia said, “Not really.”

Regina laughed into her tea as Morrie swung a stern gaze at Lydia. She laughed more when Lydia sighed and looked chagrined about her answer.

“Okay. I suppose Morrison—I mean,
Morrie
and I are dating. I wouldn’t necessarily call that a relationship.”

“Well, what label would you put on your rela…connection to Morrie?” Regina asked, correcting herself.

Lydia crossed her arms, several unflattering terms to describe the torture coming to mind, but she’d caught Regina’s slip. “You think I’m a silly old woman, don’t you?”

“Not at all,” Regina said with small shrug, but addressed Lydia even when the woman’s gaze kept sneaking glances at the man beside her. “I don’t think anything. Why don’t you enlighten me on why Morrie came with you today? I want to hear your version, Lydia. We’ll get to Morrie’s take on it in a minute.”

Lydia looked at her hands. “I can’t do
it
or talk about
it
. Is that plain enough?”

“Clear as mud,” Regina said with exaggerated irony. “So try again. No—don’t help her, Morrie. I want to hear it from Lydia.”

Regina watched Morrie clamp his lips together when she held up a hand. The man was now almost glaring at her, wanting to emotionally protect Lydia. It made her want to grin, but she didn’t. Instead, she made sure her full attention was just on Lydia when the nervous woman put a hand to her stomach and took a deep breath.

“Come on, Lydia. Something profound must have prompted you to drag Morrie here,” Regina challenged, wanting to laugh at the instant mutiny lighting Lydia’s eyes.

“
Drag him?
I didn’t
drag
him anywhere. Coming with me was his damn idea. He made me ill. That’s how he got me to agree,” Lydia said hotly, gaining momentum with every word. “I told him when he kissed me that it wasn’t going to work, but Morrison Fox is the most stubborn and persistent man that ever walked the earth.”

Regina looked at the stubborn and persistent man, watching him raise his chin and narrow his eyes at Lydia’s outburst. It was so funny to see the fight brewing that she almost burst out laughing.

But that really wasn’t something doctors were supposed to do with patients.

“Morrie? You made Lydia ill?” Regina asked dryly, picking up her tea mug as she drew Morrie’s irritated gaze to hers.

“Well, actually coming into contact with my Tall Tommy sent Lydia running to use the toilet facilities for more than their intended use,” Morrie said flatly, staring at Lydia, who sighed heavily and pressed her lips into a line.

Regina swallowed her laugh, choked, and gagged on the tea she had been trying to drink. She fought to put the mug right side up on the table and for breath.

“
See?
I’m not the only person who thinks that’s a ridiculous name for your—your—your—
you know what
,” Lydia said sternly, glaring daggers at the now grinning Morrie.

“Sorry. . .” Regina said, standing and walking around as she pounded the center of her chest and tried to keep from drowning in tea. “Been a while since I heard that term, Mr. Fox.”

Hearing Morrie’s soft laugh, Regina stopped pacing and smiled at him. Then she cleared her throat a couple times and walked back to sit.

“Okay—let’s try this again. So Lydia, Morrie was kissing you, got an erection, and you had an anxiety attack that made you ill,” Regina stated, picking up the folder and folding it open to make notes.

“Yes,” Lydia said, her voice growing smaller as she watched Regina writing.

“Do you think it was the kiss, his erection, or both?” Regina asked.

“It wasn’t the kiss—at least it wasn’t the kiss that time. It was his. . .the other thing you said,” Lydia stated.

Regina set the folder aside before looking at Lydia. “You seem to have a hard time talking about what happens to men during sexual arousal. You can just say erection or erect penis. Those are the clinical terms.”

“I can’t say those,” Lydia said flatly.

“Well, sure you can. Or you can pick a name you
can
say,” Regina ordered. “It’s important to be able to talk freely so we can communicate clearly about things. Next time I see you I want to know the term you’ve chosen. I want you to use it in our discussions.”

Lydia nodded, not liking it, but seeing the point too much to keep protesting.

Regina leaned back in the chair. “Okay. I think I see some things that maybe could be improved without risking too much further trauma. From what I’ve heard, I think Lydia is making an associative leap between male arousal and her own pressure to sexually respond, which is something she doesn’t want to do. What do you think, Lydia?”

Lydia thought for a moment. It was true, but it wasn’t always true, or at least it hadn’t always been true with the man next to her. She didn’t want Morrie or Regina thinking that Morrie was the bad guy—because he wasn’t. She knew this was about her. Hadn’t her husband pointed that out every time they had been together?

“I think you’re right that I’m sometimes afraid. However, the other night I sat in Morrie’s lap and kissed him. Nothing bad happened that time even though I was still nervous about it. I even knew he was. . .
excited
. . .but he kept his hands off me. I wasn’t afraid that time. I was able to kiss him twice without getting sick.”

Regina was grateful for her years of listening to stories no one else would ever believe. The racy ones about almost unbelievable adaptations helped keep the utter shock off her face at Lydia’s innocent, calm description of making out with Morrison Fox. It didn’t at all fit with the idea Regina obviously still had in her head about Lauren’s mother. It did however fit what with she’d always suspected about Morrie Fox.