One More Time (42 page)

Leslie shook her head and smiled. She crossed her heart with her fingertips, touched them to her lips and saw the tension leave his shoulders.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive.” Leslie shook her head. “Matt, you have such a gift. It’s such a powerful story and so well told, and the characters are so real that they could just step off the page. I halfway thought you’d had a secret life without my knowing about it. It seemed so true. I couldn’t tell where the fiction ended and the truth began.”

“I have no secret lives,” he said with quiet fervor as he parked in the cemetery. He turned off the ignition and the rain beat on the roof. “You know everything about me, Leslie.”

“New Orleans?”

He sighed. “I thought I knew what I wanted, but the truth is that I didn’t have the nerve to ask you for what I wanted.” He met her gaze, a little wonder of his own in his eyes. “But you gave it to me anyway. You told me your truth and you asked me for mine. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to have assumed that you would insist on my sacrificing my dreams for the sake of yours.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Leslie said, but before she could say more, she found the heat of his fingertips against her lips.

“I should have believed,” he whispered, close enough that she could see not just the myriad hues in his eyes but the sincerity there. “I should have asked. And I should never have hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Leslie lifted his fingers from her mouth, closed her hand over them. “I’m sorry, too. We stopped talking. We both stopped asking and stopped listening.” She looked down at his hand within hers, took a breath and asked what she really wanted to know. “Did you sleep with her?”

Matt’s fingers moved, he touched her chin and tilted her face so that she was looking straight into his eyes. “No. I thought Sharan was what I wanted. I thought she was my future. But by the time I got there, I knew that Sharan was my past. I’d not only left my future behind, but quite possible jeopardized it.”

“In your book—” Leslie said, hearing that her voice was uneven. “In your book, at the end, you say that there are times when something has to be taken completely apart—”

“—into its component pieces, in order to rebuild it better than it was before,” Matt finished. “Yes, I did write that and I believe it.”

Leslie dared to look at him again. “Is this one of those times?”

“I hope so.” He swallowed, his gaze filled with all the candor and integrity that had stolen Leslie’s heart in the first place. “I want it to be, if you’ll give an unemployed lawyer one more chance.”

“You’re not an unemployed lawyer,” Leslie chided softly. “You’re a writer in search of a publisher.”

She saw how the words pleased him and then, just because she had so seldom initiated anything sexual between them before, she kissed him.

She immediately tasted the change in the balance between them, felt not only that old black magic but a new appreciation for each other. They were embarking on a new journey together, one that maybe they had undertaken once but which had had an obscured path in recent years.

One more chance was all they needed to get it right. Leslie knew it and so, she saw, did Matt.

“We’d better go see your father before we start steaming the windows,” Matt said, when their kiss broke. “I don’t even want to know what will happen then.”

“Maybe he’ll haunt us.”

“No, he’s done that already.” Matt peered out the window, perhaps unaware of the truth he had uttered. “Come on, it’s letting up. Let’s go.”

T
wo weeks after Robert’s funeral, the Coxwells gathered at James and Maralys’s house for dinner. Leslie had been astonished by the invitation, given that they’d never socialized much before, but Matt had insisted they accept.

“It’s different since he’s gone,” he said simply. “It’s easier.”

Once Leslie would have argued, once she would have demanded more of an explanation: now she trusted Matt’s instincts. He was different since his return and yet still the same. The determination with which he revised his book, the demands he made of himself, his sheer intensity reminded her of why she had fallen in love with him in the first place.

She could feel the new balance in him and it made her smile even more when she came home at night. They had shared some hot kisses and she knew that he as waiting for her to invite him back to bed.

Tonight was the night.

Leslie knew it.

She’d worn that black camisole, just for him.

Matt was at ease in James’s house, perhaps because he had stayed there those few nights. Maybe the camaraderie was because Zach had declined the invitation. Theirs was a noisy kitchen, especially with so many in attendance.

“Can we be excused?” Jimmy asked as soon as forks hit the dessert plates.

“You just want a rematch,” Annette said, smug in her earlier triumph.

“Well, duh,” her older cousin said. “Can we?”

“May we?” James corrected in a tone that told Leslie that he knew he wouldn’t win the grammatical battle.

She could relate to that.

“Whatever,” Jimmy muttered, then flashed his father a smile. “Can we? Please?”

“Go. It’ll be quieter without you,” James said with a flick of his hand. There was a clatter as three teenagers leapt from the table in unison.

“Me first,” Johnny, the number two son, insisted.

“Forget it,” his older brother said. “It’s my turn.”

“Then we’ll play each other.”

“Hello!” Annette interjected. “I am the champion.”

“Wasn’t that a song?” Matt asked, and the adults smiled.

“Think of what we have to look forward to,” Nick said to Philippa who put her hand over her rounded belly.

“We’ll have enough of them to have them take care of each other,” she said.

Nick chuckled. “Is that how it works?”

James leaned closer to him and dropped his voice. “Never. It never works that way. Just so you know.”

“Thanks a lot. It’s not going to change much now, though. This one’s on her way.”

A chorus of congratulations echoed around the table, and Philippa had her cheek kissed by her mother. “A girl?” Beverly asked.

“That’s what the ultrasound technician said. So Michael will have a baby sister.”

The toddler in question squirmed and once Nick let him down from his seat at the table, he set off in pursuit of his older, more interesting cousins. The sound of laser fire carried from the living room, as well as good-natured bickering.

“You didn’t put your dishes in the sink!” Leslie called after the kids. “They came back sheepishly and did her bidding, moving quickly so they didn’t delay their game much.

Then they disappeared. Champagne and Caviar ran after them, Champagne barking that she was being left behind. Caviar paused to sniff something on Michael’s overalls, then to lick it off. The toddler seized a handful of the dog’s coat and steadied his balance. He grinned triumphantly at his mother, then continued to the living room.

“Always the tough guy,” Matt teased Leslie, but he was smiling.

“Well, you have to be,” Maralys said, taking sides with Leslie. Her little one, Zoë, began to fuss, so she plucked her out of he high chair and bounced her on her lap. Zoë seized a tablespoon and seemed to find it fascinating. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to teach college kids.”

“You just remember what a challenge you were,” James said and Maralys laughed.

“Pretty much. I didn’t make anybody’s life easy.”

“Imagine that,” James said, looking too innocent to be believed. The pair exchanged a hot glance across the table and Leslie met Matt’s gaze in surprise.

He smiled a slow smile that heated her to her toes, then leaned forward. “Go ahead, Leslie, tell them your news. Being the tough guy has its spoils.”

“Well, I guess. I’ve accepted a new position.” She named the college and told them a bit about the program, unsurprised that they were surprised she’d leave her alma mater. “I needed a new challenge and this is it. Plus I want to focus on my own research more than I’ve been able to in recent years. I’ll finish this term, then spend the summer settling in there.”

“But the best part is how you were recruited,” Matt prompted.

Leslie laughed. “Oh, the headhunter was a kid I failed twice. He told me that I was the only person who’d ever demanded more of him than he could easily do. He ultimately graduated summa cum laude.”

“Score one for the good guys,” James said, and the group applauded her.

“There’s a bottle of sparkling wine in the fridge,” Maralys said. “Let’s drink a toast to Philippa and Nick and their new baby, to Leslie in her new job.”

And to Matt’s book. Leslie met Matt’s gaze, knowing that it was still their secret because he wanted it that way. She smiled at him, hoping he could see her pride, and liked the gleam that lit his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have any alcohol,” Philippa protested.

“Have a sip for luck and give the rest of me,” Nick offered.

“A martyr to the cause,” Matt teased and the men laughed together. It turned out that each of them only got a sip once the bottle was split seven ways, but it was the principle of the thing. Leslie felt buoyant—and it wasn’t from the bubbles. It was the way Matt watched her over the rim of his glass, silently toasting her from across the table.

“They’ll give you a nice office, I hope,” Beverly said and Leslie laughed.

“I don’t much care. Actually I expect to telecommute more and do some work at home. It will be nice to see Annette, at least in passing, more than I have.”

“But where will you work?” Beverly demanded.

It seemed rude to point out that if Beverly moved her stuff out, then there would be room in the living room—sort of—to set up a desk. Leslie had herself been concerned about the space issue and thought she had found a compromise solution.

“Well, I might just set up a desk in the basement...” she began, but got no further.

“Basements are for potatoes,” Beverly interrupted her crisply. “I have a better idea.”

Everyone looked at her, probably expecting her to announce that she’d taken an apartment somewhere.

“Grey Gables.” Beverly considered each of them, her smile as victorious as little Michael’s had been. Leslie gasped, but Matt appeared to be considering the idea. He frowned and leaned forward in the same moment as James.

“It’s my family home,” Beverly said. “And my moving back there makes perfect sense. The girls need space to run. I don’t want to sell the house, it has too many memories, but I don’t want to live alone, either.”

“We’re close by, at Lucia’s house,” Philippa said, referring to Nick’s grandmother. The couple had been living with Lucia in Rosemount since their wedding.

Beverly shook her head. “No, I think I need someone in the house. And Leslie needs an office and Matt needs an office and the house has room to spare.”

“But any of us could use more space,” Leslie argued, even as he heart began to pound at the possibility.

James shook his head firmly. “It’s an hour and a half drive from Boston, and only if there’s no traffic.”

“When you go to work, it’ll be bumper to bumper,” Maralys said. “It would take you three hours each way.” She nodded at Leslie. “We’re better off right here, where we can see more of him.”

“They’re not likely to move the courthouse to suit me,” James said with a grin.

“But...” Leslie protested.

“We have Lucia’s place,” Nick said, “and believe me, no one alive needs the responsibility of two old houses.”

Philippa laughed. “It’s not that bad!”

“But it’s a lot of work. One house is plenty for me.”

“What about Zach?” Leslie asked.

“He’ll never live out there,” James said. “He couldn’t wait to be gone.”

“But it’s not fair to everyone else,” Leslie said.

“It’s my house,” Beverly insisted. “I want to live there. When I die, it’ll be divided between the four of you anyway.”

Matt grabbed a sheet of paper and started to scribble. “So, let’s figure out whether Leslie and I can afford to buy the rest of you out. What do you think the house is worth?”

James named a figure that made Leslie blink. “That’s too low,” she argued. “It’s a beautiful house.”

“But it’s in Rosemount. It’s too far to commute.”

“Location, location, location,” Maralys agreed.

“We could check with a realtor, but I think that’s a reasonable working number,” Nick said, bending to look at Matt’s calculations.

A moment later, he shoved the paper across the table to Leslie. He’d subtracted a quarter of the total, done a side calculation of their house’s value, subtracting how much they still owed. When that was taken from the sum, there was still a hefty balance left.

Leslie did a little mental calculation, then swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t think we can manage this.”

“Of course, you can,” Beverly said sharply. She took the pencil and scribbled a number at the bottom. “There’s the monthly rent the girls will pay. They need room and to be accommodated in the style to which they’ve become accustomed.”

“The girls can pay that much rent?” James and Nick demanded simultaneously.

“They have a trust fund and I see no reason not to use it,” Beverly said haughtily. “After all, I couldn’t rent a nice apartment in Boston for that much per month.”

No one could argue with that.

“So, it’s decided?” James asked. “Since Zach is Father’s executor, I’ll have him check that the power of attorney didn’t extend to the property...”

Zach was Robert’s executor? Leslie blinked, but didn’t comment. No one else seemed surprised so they much have known.

“Grey Gables was explicitly excluded from that agreement,” Beverly said. “I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Which reminds me,” James said, sparing a glance to the clock on the wall. “It’s that time again.”

Beverly sighed with forbearance and rose to her feet. She drained the last of her mouthful of sparkling wine and gave her eldest son a glare. “Tell them about this mouthful and I’ll ensure that you regret it.”

He laughed, unafraid. “You’ll have to do penance for it and go to another meeting Friday.”

“Not me,” Beverly said as she swept out of the kitchen. “I have a dinner date Friday night.”