MAKE ME A MATCH (Running Wild) (22 page)

“I’ll do tarot cards for you, see whether timing’s right,” Gladys said.

Eric came down the hallway, smiling. “Hey, Tess, how did it go with that Louie woman? Did you come to an agreement with Clara?”

“I got fired.”

Everyone stopped talking, which was a blessing, because she was about to scream.

“I told Clara she was asking too much money, and she said she was deeply hurt, that she was giving me a special price because she cared about me. And I told her I didn’t think so, and that I was going to speak to a lawyer about it, and then I told her what I was willing to pay, and she had a screaming fit and fired me.”

She’d never seen Clara spitting, raving mad before, and she never wanted to again. It wasn’t a pretty sight. She’d actually felt the tiniest bit sorry for Bernard. For half a second.

“She’ll cool off and come around,” Henry said.

“She’s bluffing, trying to scare you,” Gladys said.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Eric said, which was exactly the right thing to say. Outside, she handed him the car keys. “You drive.” She’d had enough stress for one day.

He got behind the wheel. “My place or yours?”

“Mine.” She couldn’t face those rusty pipes and old car seats and hubcaps, not tonight. “You start looking for a car yet?”

“One of the guys found this Fifty-two Ford. It’s been sitting in somebody’s garage for years. It’ll take a little work, but it’ll be a honey when I get it fixed.”

Tessa doubted that. It was probably good that this was a short-term thing, Eric’s fixation on old cars and junk made into couches was driving her crazy, along with the rest of her life.

“This thing with Clara, you want to talk about it? You want me to get Fletcher on her case? He could sue her for wrongful dismissal or something.”

“No. I don’t even want to think about it.” She put her head back on the seat and told him the

whole story, word for word. Then she remembered Kenneth and told him about that, too. “Between Kenneth and Clara, I just don’t know who to trust anymore.”

He reached a hand over, took hers, and put it on his thigh, covering it with his own. “It’s gonna turn out fine; this is just a little glitch.” He patted the back of her hand, clumsy, comforting. Sexy, really sexy, long fingers, long muscular thighs, long— she realized she’d been waiting and waiting, but he’d never said,
You can trust me.

It hurt like hell, but then what could she expect from him? Maybe he was doing the best he could, and the fact that it wasn’t enough wasn’t his fault. It was hers for expecting more. Time to get over it.

She said, “On second thought, drive to your place. I’ll drop you and go on home, I think I need to be alone for a while.”

“But it’s Friday night. I thought we’d go out for dinner. We haven’t been to a really nice place for dinner yet, Tess. And you need company, somebody to talk to. You’ve had one hell of a day.”

“Thanks, but I have a headache.”

Stopped at a light, he leaned over, blew a raspberry on her bare thigh and murmured, “I know this great cure for headaches.”

He knew all the moves, she had to give him that. She also gave him a smile and shook her head. “I’ll take a rain check.”

She don’t get the blues—she gives ’em

Rain check.  What the hell was that supposed to mean? Thoroughly out of sorts, Eric slammed his apartment door behind him. He’d been looking forward to spending the evening with Tessa.

His answering machine was blinking, and he felt better. She’d probably changed her mind already, called him on her cell. He pushed play, and felt deflated, even though it was Karen.

“Could you give me a call, Eric? I really need to talk to you.”

He punched out the endless numbers for Mexico. As usual, it took three tries and intervention by an operator before the call finally went through. Sonny answered, in Spanish, and then became cheerfully hearty.

“Hey, Eric, my man, how you doing?”

There’d been a time when Eric was very young when he actually thought Sonny wanted an honest answer to that question.

Now he didn’t even bother to respond. “Is Karen around?”

“She’s right here. We’re looking at old photos.”

A pause, and then, “Eric?”

He relaxed a little. She didn’t sound freaked out. “Hey, sweet pea, how are you?”

“I’m fine. Well, sort of fine. I haven’t gone nuts again and shaved anybody bald, so that’s a plus. I get worried about the kids, though, Sophie keeps saying they’re being good, but that can’t be true. I know my boys. So I thought I’d get the straight goods out of you.”

“I haven’t talked to Soph for a couple days, but I’d have heard if anything was wrong.”

Come to think of it, he should have heard, because the last time he’d talked to her, Soph was frantic. Maybe she had the kids on tranquilizers. Maybe she was taking them herself.

“Karo, the boys are absolutely fine. Don’t worry about them for a second.” Eric gave her a detailed rundown on the carnival, skipping the parts about getting stuck on the Ferris wheel and being in a car accident.

“They’re going to stay with Bruno and Anna starting next Wednesday. Soph has to go back to work. Bruno’s taking time off; they’re all going camping.”

“Oooohhh, they’ll like that.” Big sigh of relief. “I’ve never been away from them before. I really miss them.”

“They miss you too, but they’re pretty adaptable.” They were; they could wreak havoc virtually anywhere. Eric figured nobody else in the family was going to miss them when Karen got back, if their current track record held true.

“So how’s it going with you? The parental units trying to borrow money from you yet?”

“Not yet. It’s nice here, Eric, I’m turning brown from the sun. The house is open. There's a central courtyard and lots of flowers. Mom has a gardener called Miguel. My room is at the back, and the birds are amazing in the early morning. I can walk to the ocean, I go swimming every day. Mom and Dad spend part of each day at the orphanage. Mom takes care of the babies and Dad entertains the kids with his guitar. I’ve been trimming everyone’s hair.”

“Jesus.” Eric scowled and shook his head. “That orphanage gig, I just don’t believe it.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “It’s not as if they’re familiar with kids, they never spent that much time with their own. Have they even asked about Simon and Ian?” He knew his parents were right there; he shouldn’t put her on the spot this way.

“I brought a ton of pictures with me.”

They were there, but still he had to warn her. “Don’t expect anything from them, sweet pea. Don’t loan them money, don’t let them exploit you with this hair thing. And don’t let them get under your skin. They’re not worth it.”

“I hear you. I don’t necessarily agree.”

How old did you have to get before you stopped wanting attention from your parents? Older than Karen, that was for sure.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m feeling lots better and Mom’s cook, Consuela, is teaching me how to make tortillas and something called mole. When I get home I’ll cook you guys an authentic Mexican meal.” She took a shaky breath. “Have you heard anything from Scissor Happy? Is Junella going to try and get my license lifted? Is Myrna going to sue me?”

“Fletcher’s dealing with Junella. He figures she’s in violation of several employment laws, so I wouldn’t worry about your license. And Myrna can’t sue you personally, the salon carries insurance for stuff like that. Don’t worry about any of it. Fletch will get it all sorted out. It’ll be history by the time you come home.”

“Tell Fletcher I’m grateful. Tell him I’ll cut his hair free for the rest of his life. Although maybe under the circumstances, he might not think that’s the best offer he’s ever had.”

Good, she could joke about it now. “His hair’s thinning anyway. And before I forget, I told the boys you’d send them postcards.”

“I already did, tons of them, iguanas and Para-sails and big fish. Hopefully they’ll get them before I get back, the mail here isn’t the best. And oh yeah, how’s it going with Synchronicity?”

“They lined me up with this babe called Sylvia, but I flunked out at Dating one-oh-one, so Tessa’s got me in her class for losers.”

That made her giggle. He smiled. She really was better.

“Learn your lessons, big brother. And tell Tess hi from me when you see her next.”

Whenever the bloody rain check kicked in. “Shall do.”

“I should go. I love you, Eric. You’re the best.”

“I love you too, sweet pea. I’ll call you again in a couple days. Remember what I said about Georgia and Sonny.”

“I will. Bye.”

Karen set the phone down, thinking she was going to cry, but she found herself smiling instead at the thought of Tessa and Eric together. So she and her sisters might have pulled it off. And her kids were doing okay. Eric would have told her if they weren’t.

She’d been missing them something awful, so she’d brought out pictures of them to show her parents. They’d sort of glanced at them, but then they started talking about famous musicians they’d had their picture taken with. And Sonny had dragged out a box of photos, and her kids got buried under her parents’ egos.

She’d always thought that if she just had enough time with Sonny and Georgia, she could make them care about her, take an interest, love her the way she wanted to be loved. She knew now that was a pipe dream.

Sonny held up a yellowed photograph. “Look at this one, Karen, this is your mom and I with John Sebastian, from Lovin’ Spoonful.” He kissed Georgia, full on the lips. “Damn, babe, I used to love that blue dress on you.”

Georgia and Sonny bent over the snap, their sun-ravaged faces glowing, their daughter forgotten. Sonny’s arm was around Georgia’s hips, and she bent and pressed a kiss on his brown-spotted balding head.

They were self-centered, aging, pathetic and sad. Those things were undeniable. But Karen couldn’t help but notice that they cared deeply about each other, and that the caring went beyond what might be expected of a couple who’d been together over forty years.

Astounding as it was, they were still in love, the way Karen had been in love with Jimmy in the beginning. She even heard them making love at night, their quiet laughter. She saw them touch each other just for the sake of touching.

It made Karen unbearably lonely, but it also gave her something positive. Her brother and sisters referred to Sonny and Georgia as write-offs when it came to parenting, and they were right, even Karen understood that now. But they loved each other, and they’d made their marriage work, in whatever dysfunctional manner. It was an accomplishment, something in their favor. It comforted Karen.

She even understood a little of their failure at parenting.

Kids demanded all you had to give, they drained you. Karen knew that all too well. Most people did a balancing act with their kids, this much for themselves, that much for the kids. Georgia and Sonny simply took a hundred percent for themselves. Somewhere she’d read that the children of lovers were orphans. It was all too true.

The fortunate thing was that she and her sisters had always had Eric to love and care for them. What hurt was that up till now, Eric hadn’t had anyone of his own caring for him.

He was so stubborn, so afraid to love anybody in case they didn’t love him back, and he needed love so much. If only he’d give in and let himself fall for Tessa.

At noon on Saturday, Eric gave in. He’d told himself he wasn’t calling Tessa. She was the one with the bloody rain check, she could damned well call him. There was no way a woman was going to jerk his chain this way, on again, off again, hot, cold, maybe. It was all over with her except for the formalities.

He’d started welding together something he called Woman, because it had dawned on him that ball bearings would make perfect nipples, and a piece of old railway steel was just the right shape for a body. He could leave the center empty where the heart should go.

But he couldn’t concentrate, and after he’d come close to blinding himself for the second time, he snatched up the phone. It was time to get a few things straightened out between them. They needed to discuss stuff like, was she okay for money, did she want to come and work for him just as a stopgap. He’d had women driving for him before, they were terrific. She could leave again whenever she liked.

“Tessa, hi.” It was a beginning.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I’m in bed, I still have a headache. Why don’t you come over and cure it? I’ll leave the back door unlocked.”

He’d stuffed some underwear and things in a sports bag and was out the door before he remembered he still didn’t have a car, which was totally stupid, he owned a flourishing business and four trucks, for Christ sake.

He whistled down a cab, and at the Volkswagen dealers on Kingsway he bought a new turbo diesel Jetta. He was going to get black, but he remembered something Tessa had said and changed his mind.

Driving it was a dream. It shot ahead at stop signs, zipped in and out of traffic. It looked classy parked in front of Tessa’s place. No more bitching about his dump trucks and what the neighbors would think.

He went in the back door, and down the hall to her bedroom. She actually was in bed, wearing something white and see-through, no sheet because it was a really hot day. She sat up against the soft pillows and he could see her nipples, shadowed against the cotton. Her pillowcases were trimmed with eyelet.

He knew eyelet; his sisters had had dresses out of it long ago. With her wild curls touching her shoulders and that mouth and those nipples, she looked like a painting from behind some bar, only better.

She said, “What took you so long?”

“I had to stop at the dealers and pick up a car.” He sat down and pulled off his shoes. “As soon as your headache’s gone, we can go for a ride.”

“How old a car?” Her voice was suspicious. “Does it actually run?”

“New. Right off the showroom floor.”

“You bought a new car? I thought you only liked old ones.”

“A guy can change; nothing’s written in stone.”

“My god, Eric, do you have any idea how sexy new cars are?”

He took off his shorts and T-shirt. “I’m hoping maybe you could show me.”

“Lie down here.” He did, and she slid down his body, her mouth soft and tickling, teasing and then urgent, and when he couldn’t bear it any longer he rolled her beneath him.

“Don’t close your eyes,” she said, so he didn’t, moving in her slow and long, holding back because that way it took longer, looking into her eyes and sliding, sweat like hot oil between them, hers and his and then no space, just nerves and heat, and her eyes, melting, and a long, shuddering slide, and they broke together, fire and trembling peace.