That's (Not Exactly) Amore (16 page)

15

T
he after-church crowd at Valmont’s is packed in like sardines and so loud you might as well be in a nightclub for all the conversation that’s possible. Which is fine with me. I’m not all that keen on chatting anyway. I stare across the table and try to look as intimidating as the Jerk (aka Chad Bland)—the guy who, for better or worse, is going to become my stepbrother in two months. But let me just say it’s not that easy. For one thing, the guy is the size of a Mack truck. He’s at least three hundred pounds and nine or ten feet tall. Well, no, but he’d hold his own in a look-me-in-the-eye contest with Mark, who, as I’ve mentioned, is six-four.

“Surely you can’t think this is a good idea,” Chad says in a tone that I hate. To clarify: I hate it when anyone says to me, “Surely you this,” or “Surely you that.” Like only a fool would think anything else.

And I might be a fool. But I would never betray my mother to the likes of this arrogant creep. I look him dead in the eye and shrug. “Personally, I happen to think our parents make a lovely couple. Whatever they choose to do is perfectly fine with me.” Let him put that in his pipe and smoke it.

My mother’s face brightens. Aaron’s eyes twinkle, and he sends me a wink. A fatherly wink, sort of. Which makes me uncomfortable. I mean, true, I’m not going to sit by while Chad attempts to undermine his own dad, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to sit on my new stepdaddy’s knee and tell him what I want for Christmas either.

Chad lifts his eyebrows and leans forward, his considerable stomach pressing against the edge of the table. “Oh, I see. You figure if your mother”—(am I going to have to beat the daylights out of this guy for saying
mother
in that tone of voice?)—“marries my dad, you’ll get your inheritance right away. And maybe a little something from him too?”

Mom gasps, and I’m about to come out of my chair when Aaron glares at his son and practically growls, “Chad, I think it’s time you shut up and eat your lunch. You’re bordering on rudeness and bad taste. And I’m not going to allow you to subject Lydia to one more second of this disrespect.”

Chad slams his fist on the table in a dramatic motion that sends the silverware clanging onto the plates. We all jump—even Chad, who by now is pointing his fat, sausage finger at his dad’s face. “And if you think I’m going to stand idly by while some gold digger sinks her claws into my mother’s things, you’re sadly mistaken, Dad.”

“How dare you!” I say too loud. Patrons at several nearby tables turn to watch the show. “If anyone’s the gold digger . . .”

“Laini Sullivan. Don’t you finish that line of thought or I’ll—I’ll . . .” Mom’s at a loss for words, but I catch her drift and decide to revise what I would have said, which would have been that his dad is the gold digger. Even if he is, he’s not a very good one. “Chad, the truth is that my mother intends to sell my childhood home and use however much she receives above the mortgage to put a down payment on their new home. So the only inheritance I’m going to receive is a robe that’s so old it won’t even cover any of my important parts. So there!”

Mom touches my arm. “Honey, you can’t possibly want that old robe.”

I turn to her. “Daddy bought it for you. I want it, okay?”

Her brow goes up. “Okay.”

Chad grunts and sends me a mean, mean glare. “Give me a break here. A robe? What are we talking about? There’s no way my dad is going to live in a place paid for by your mother.”

I think I hate this man. Brother or no, he will not be getting a Christmas card from me unless he mends his ways considerably.

Aaron clears his throat. “Laini is correct. As much as I hate to bring this up at a time like this, you’ve left me no choice. Your mother’s hospital bills were high. Extremely so. We went through the small amount of insurance she had very quickly. I’m still deeply in debt from the surgeries, hospital stays, medications, and home health care in the end. Everything will have to be auctioned off and the house sold in order to settle all accounts due.”

Chad looks like he just got socked in the gut. I want to be smug about it, but I can’t. I know how he feels. I felt sort of the same way when Mom told me there would be nothing left for me after she sells our house.

Chad doesn’t say one word. I mean, not even a whisper. Instead, he pushes back his chair, tosses his napkin on the table, and nods to his wife, Brenda (who, by the way, looks like she weighs about ninety-four pounds soaking wet—you have to wonder if he’s letting her eat). She mouths, “I’m sorry,” and follows her husband from the restaurant.

I stare after them, bewildered and getting madder and madder. And then I do something really out of character. I hop up and run after him. “Hey!” I yell when I get to the door. Lucky for me, big boy can’t move very fast. So they haven’t even reached the curb, let alone hailed a cab. I rush after them. “What’s the idea, walking out on your dad?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, yeah it is, buster. You insulted my mom.”

He rolls his eyes and looks down his nose as though I’m a flying bug that won’t leave him alone but maybe isn’t quite worth the effort of swatting away. “I’m sure your mother is lovely,” he says with a sarcastic scowl that just begs to be smacked right off.

“If you had any common sense at all, you’d
know
she’s lovely, not just think it. And you still haven’t answered my question. How could you walk out on your own dad? Don’t you know how grief-stricken he’s been since your mother died and now here he is forced to sell everything that speaks of their life together just so he can pay the bills? Are you truly that much of a horse’s”—in honor of the Lord’s Day, I stop that line of thought, but it’s not easy—“behind?”

“It’s all well and good for you to talk—Laini, was it?” Oh, he knows very well it’s Laini. He’s just all cliché and nothing original. “This is all news to me. I thought I’d live in that home someday. Raise my own children there. Instead, I find out that I’m going to be stuck in an apartment in the city to raise my baby there.”

Okay, I’m not seeing a baby. Did they lose it?

Brenda apparently notes my confusion. She smiles. “We just found out we’ll be having our first.”

You just can’t help but like her. I grin at her rapturous expression. “Congratulations! My friend just found out she’s going to have a baby too,” I say. I’m not sure why I volunteer that information. But there it is.

“I’m sick all the time.”

I give her a sympathetic nod. “So is she.”

“Is this really the point right now?” I jump at the sharpness of Chad’s tone. “I need a few days to sort this out in my head and then I’ll be fine. I just can’t sit in there anymore while he discusses the end of my mother’s life in front of strangers.” His voice breaks, and I’m able to work up a little bit of sympathy.

I place my hand on his arm. “I’m sure your dad will understand if you take a few days. Just don’t take any longer than necessary. He’s going to move on with or without you. But you might not be able to live with yourself if you stay gone too long and force him to go through all this stuff alone.”

His lip curls. “He’s not alone, remember? He has the bride-to-be.”

I step forward and stand as close to him as I possibly can without actually making physical contact. “You know, I’m getting pretty sick of the way you keep referring to my mom like she’s some seductive spider and your widower dad is a poor fly lured into her web by her irresistible sex appeal.” I can’t hold back the tiny laugh that comes up as the image hits me full in the brain.

Judging by the venom in his eyes, he’s not catching the funny.

I roll my eyes at him. “Fine. I couldn’t care less. Pout because you won’t be getting a house. Ruin your relationship with your dad over it. It’s not my business whether you do or not.” I shrug a nonchalant I’m-a-better-person-than-you shrug. “Personally, I intend to do everything possible to help our parents get everything done and settle their bills, and I will stand up right next to my mother when she marries your dad. I suspect you would be the first choice for a best man.”

A snort rips through him—reminds me of a hippo blowing a bug out of his nose. “That’ll never happen.”

I’m really sick of this conversation. Besides, it’s starting to sprinkle out here. I’m not taking a chance on the cashmere jacket I discovered during my last thrift store expedition getting ruined over the likes of this guy. “That’s your choice, Chad. But it’ll also be your loss.”

A cab finally screeches to a stop, and Chad ushers his wife into the car. He doesn’t even give me a second glance as the cabbie speeds away into traffic.

I would go back inside, but Mom and Aaron slip out the door. I suspect they’ve been watching from the glass door and waiting for Chad to leave.

“Sorry, Aaron.” I feel sorry for the man. First he loses his wife, and now his only son is behaving badly.

His slim shoulders shrug. “He’ll come around.”

But the look in his eyes is wistful. I wonder if, by the time Chad comes around, it will be too late for a good relationship between him and Aaron and my mom.

Mom wraps her hand along the inside of his elbow. “Let’s go, dear. We’ll just have to pray for Chad. After all, look what happened when we prayed that Laini would come around.”

Her words jolt me. What’s that supposed to mean? Is there a conspiracy going on here?

Nancy laughs at me later when I tell her about my mom’s comment. We’re sitting on the couch watching
Sleepless in Seattle
and recapping our respective weekends. “What’s wrong with a little divine intervention?” she asks. “Mothers’ prayers are always the most powerful.”

“My mother hadn’t stepped foot inside a church since I was a little girl. Now all of a sudden she’s going to church again and praying for me to ‘come around’?” Maybe I ought to ask her to pray for a good job and a knight on a white horse.

“Oh, Laini. Don’t be offended. Just be glad she’s happy.”

“I
am
glad she’s happy.” Time to shift. “Tell me about your weekend.”

Her face clouds. “Tyson came to visit. He won’t give up.”

“Tyson, your ex-boyfriend?”

We really haven’t discussed too much about her life before she moved in with me. But I know some of the bare essentials. She nods now. “Yeah, he won’t give up.”

“Are you sure you want him to?” I mean, a guy who loves her that much . . . Maybe it was a misunderstanding.

She rolls her eyes. “He’s married.”

Gulp.

“And I didn’t know it for two years.” Her dark eyes flash with indignation. “How did I not know that?”

I shrug. “He was sneaky, I guess?”

“You got that right.” She turns to me with a sudden, jerky move. “Do you know he had the nerve to tell me he left her? He just expected me to go running back into his arms.” Her voice breaks a little as tears well in her eyes.

I truly don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, Nancy. Is there anything I can do?”

She shakes her head. “No. I sent him back to Chicago. I think he’s pretty clear now where we stand.” A rueful smile tips the corner of her mouth. “I suggested we call his wife and ask her if he’d left. He wouldn’t do it.”

So of course that means he didn’t really leave his wife. What a creep. If a woman with Nancy’s looks can’t find a decent guy, what hope do I have? Now I’m as depressed as she is.

“Did he really think I would go back to him anyway? I’m a Christian. I just don’t understand how I could be so fooled.”

My heart goes out to her and I slip my arm around her shoulders. “Love is blind.” I can’t believe I just said that.

“You know who I should go out with?”

I shake my head.

“Joe Pantalone. His nana has been pushing us at each other since we were kids. What do I have to lose?”

My arm drops like a load of concrete.
Uh, your pretty little neck, girlfriend.
Doesn’t she know that Joe and I—well, I don’t know what there is, but there’s something. And she should know that.

“You’re going with him to Nana and Papa’s anniversary dinner next Saturday night, aren’t you?”

“No.”

She frowns. “Joe said he was going to ask if you wanted to go. He wants to introduce you to a couple of the cousins. I think he’s feeling guilty that you won’t have anywhere to sell rolls and sandwiches for the next few weeks.”

“He doesn’t need to worry about that.”

“You know Joe. He’s a protector-type.”

Meaning what? He’s the kind of guy who might meet a girl at a subway station in the rain and walk her home out of chivalry instead of affection? Suddenly my confidence that Joe is interested in me as a woman is starting to dwindle. I feel downright deflated. Time to play the we’re-just-friends card. “So—um—why haven’t you ever gone out with him?”

“I don’t know. We grew up together. His father and mine are business associates. Joe and my brother were best friends. It just seemed incestuous.” She wrinkles her nose. A smile settles over her lips. “On the other hand, storybook romance is all about childhood friends falling in love as adults. Maybe this is my storybook ending. Why not?”

I swallow hard. “Yeah. Why not?”

“I’m kidding!” She gives a laugh. “Joe’s not my type. Besides, he’s like a brother.” A shudder works through her shoulders. “Can you imagine?”

Can I imagine
her
with him, or
me
with him?

She frowns. “Hey. You’re not interested in Joe, are you?”

My proceed-with-caution light flashes behind my eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I thought you and Mark . . .”

“We’re dating. No kissing or anything.”

Shoot. Why did I have to go and tell her that?

“Oh. You guys aren’t exclusive?” She still has that frown.

“I’m not really in a position to have an exclusive relationship right now.” Hopefully I’m convincing.

“Why not?”

I heave a sigh. “School, for one thing. Things are pretty uncertain there.”

“How so?”

Okay, I haven’t exactly confessed to my hotshot architect friend that I’m failing interior design school. I’m not so sure I really want to tell her about it now. But something in her eyes shows real concern. So I open up. “Let’s just say I’m not very good. I think I might be at the bottom of my class. If not, I’m pretty close. To tell you the truth, I have about the lowest grade point average a person can have and still be considered a passing student. So I guess Joe was right to have reservations about me in the first place.”