With a Little T.L.C. (13 page)

“Did you love him, Ma? The other guy?” Joe wasn't sure how he felt about this. But he needed to know the answer to that question.

She sighed. “I don't know whether or not you'll believe this, but the honest answer is—no. I respected and admired him. I liked him. He said he loved me, wanted me to marry him. I was tempted, but I couldn't do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I knew your father was the love of my life, and always would be. In spite of that awful time, I would marry Tom Marchetti again in a heartbeat. I'm profoundly appreciative of the bad times.”

“That doesn't make sense, Ma,” he said, an edge to his voice. He wasn't sure how to feel about what she was telling him. Should he be angry? Mad at her for hurting his father?

“It makes perfect sense. If not for the bad, we
would take the relationship for granted. That separation brought us closer together, it made us treasure the good times.”

He shook his head. “I don't know what to say, Ma.”

“It's okay, dear.” She put her hand on his arm. “I can discuss it calmly because it all happened many years ago. But you're just finding out about it.”

“Does anyone else know?”

She shook her head. “I won't swear you to secrecy. If you feel the need to share it with your brothers or your sister, you have my permission. Because I have the feeling that your childhood memory of that time left a scar we didn't know was there.”

He studied her, the way her silver hair shone in the sunlight. The lines around her eyes and mouth were deeper, and he could see the toll confessing her indiscretion had taken. He still wasn't quite sure what this had to do with him, what “scar” she was talking about, but she'd felt he needed to know and it had been hard on her. He loved her for that.

“You and Dad are really okay now?” he asked.

She thought about his question and smiled, erasing the tension. “We're friends, confidants, lovers—”

“Don't go there, Ma.”

She laughed. “We're better than okay.” Her expression, her words, convinced him that the foundation of the family was sound. “But you're not.”

“I'll get over it.”

“Running from love has been your pattern your whole adult life. It's time to dig your heels in. Stand and fight for the woman you love. Snap out of your comfort zone. That's why I brought up all this ancient history. I want to see you with someone who is the
love of your life for the bad times and the good.” She met his gaze. “I would bet my membership in the romance-of-the-month book club your someone is Liz.”

Anger and hurt swirled inside him because Liz would never be his. But he couldn't help asking, “Why do you think she's the one?”

“The cuddlers program.”

“You know about that?” he asked, surprised.

“Rosie told me. It's clear to both of us that after meeting Liz you couldn't forget her. Volunteering was a way to get to know her better, to get close to her.”

He shook his head. “She doesn't agree.”

“Change her mind.” The voice she used was one he remembered from childhood, when one of them had done something wrong.

It was a tone he learned never to ignore. “I'll try,” he said.

Flo shook her head disapprovingly. “Second place attitude. Not the mind-set of a man determined to win the woman he loves.”

She sounded like Liz—second place is first loser.

For the first time since he'd walked out on Liz, a grin threatened. “You are one tough cookie, Ma.”

She smiled. “I had to be, dear. Motherhood isn't for wimps.”

“Okay. I'll change her mind.”

“How?”

“Boy, you don't give up, do you?”

“Never, and neither should you.”

“I'm not sure how I'll get through to her. But I will not give up until I have achieved my objective.”

“Well done, dear.”

“Y
ou're looking like the eighth dwarf, Crabby.”

Liz looked up from the paperwork on her desk to see Sam in the doorway. “Don't let the frown fool you. Inside I'm doing the dance of joy.”

“And I'm a supermodel moonlighting as a baby nurse.” Sam put a hand on her hip. “This wouldn't have anything to do with our star male volunteer and your friendship status, would it?” Before Liz could deny it, Sam held up her hand and said, “The truth please.”

Liz sighed and leaned back in her chair, trying to keep the pain from filtering through her defenses. She linked her fingers and settled her hands on her abdomen. It was support-group night and she had on her navy suit, the same outfit she'd worn when Joe had charmed all those tired, overworked, new moms. Not to mention one tired, overworked assistant supervising baby nurse.

“Okay. The truth is I miss Joe.” A sharp stab of pain hit her somewhere in the region of her heart.

“Why? He's here all the time. He hasn't welshed on a volunteer shift. In fact, half the time he shows up in the middle of the night. I don't know when the man sleeps.”

Me, either, Liz thought, worrying about him. Had his insomnia flared up? Did it have anything to do with the fact that she was on his mind? That idea did make her heart do a little two-step before she warned herself not to hope. More important than any of that, was he getting enough rest? That worried her the most. It could be dangerous.

“How does he look?” Liz couldn't help asking.

“Like the ninth dwarf, Cranky,” Sam answered. “What happened between you two that night? The truth please,” she said again.

“You are almost as cynical as I am,” Liz complained. “I told him that it would be best if we didn't spend time together anymore.”

“What would make you say something like that?”

“He only wants friendship.”

“He said that?”

“Pretty much,” Liz answered.

“And you believe him?”

“I have no reason not to. I learned the hard way that Joe Marchetti doesn't lie.”

Sam shook her head in disgust. “I have never seen two people more determined to ignore the obvious.”

“And that would be?”

“You guys are crazy about each other.”

“Make that singular. I'm nuts about him. He doesn't feel the same way.”

“I think you're wrong about that.”

“Then why does he just want to be friends?”

“There could be lots of reasons,” Sam said moving into the room. “He's playing it slow and cautious. Doesn't want to scare you off. Or he's relationship-shy for some reason. But in my humble opinion, the diagnosis for what ails you two is l-o-v-e.”

Time to change the subject, Liz thought. No way would she get her hopes up. “You didn't come all the way to my office to counsel me in the finer points of l-o-v-e. What brought you here, Sam?”

Her friend gave her a look that told her she knew that was an evasive maneuver. “I want to put in a request for a weekend off before you do the schedule.”

“Okay.” Liz wrote down the date. “That shouldn't be a problem. Anything else? I have the support group in a few minutes.”

Sam shook her head. “Nothing except try not to let your wounded pride stand in the way of your happiness.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Liz said. But she also knew that only a moron would beat her head against a brick wall. Joe didn't want more than friendship. He didn't feel the same way about her as she did about him. Breaking it off had been the best thing for her.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Any time.”

Then she was alone. A wave of loneliness washed over her, brought about, no doubt, by talking about Joe. Most of the time she managed to stay busy enough to keep him on the periphery of her thoughts. But every once in a while, a memory would invade, so vivid, and so painful that it took her breath away.
She could only hope that time would dull her feelings. But she had a terrible hunch that he was the only man who would ever make her heart pound and her knees weak.

She'd had one chance. Joe Marchetti was her brass ring and she'd missed it.

She got up from her desk and went to the window behind it, looking out over the landscaped front of the hospital. At least she had a career she loved. Not everyone got to have it all—love, family, and a great job. No doubt she was destined to be married to her job. The thought produced another piercing pain around her heart.

“Liz?”

Joe! That wonderful voice—deep, husky, warm as fine brandy—took her breath away. How she'd missed him. She put a hand on the wall to steady herself. Then she turned around.

“Hi,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.”

He stood there in her doorway looking sexy and handsome, and tempting as sin. In his dress shirt, with tie at half staff and wrinkled, gray pinstriped slacks he looked like a
GQ
model after a hard day at the office.

“What is it?”

“I came here to tell you that you were right.”

She blinked. Did he mean she'd been right to say they shouldn't see each other? The thought hurt even though it had been her idea. “About what?” she asked.

“When I joined the cuddlers program, you implied that my motives had something to do with meeting women. You were right.”

“I was?”

He nodded. “But it was only one woman and her name was Liz Anderson.” His brown eyes were full of sincerity and his dark hair looked as if he'd run his hand through it countless times. “I met her when my niece was born and I never forgot her.” He rubbed his ear. “Tug on my ear and I'll follow you anywhere.”

Liz was afraid to believe. “Joe, I—”

He held up a hand. “Hear me out. The least you can do is let me explain. I had a long talk with my mom.”

“About their split?” she couldn't help asking.

He nodded. “And how it affected me. She said I'd been running from commitment all my life.”

Liz laughed and shook her head sadly. “Aren't we a matched set of dysfunctionals?”

“You're missing the point.”

“I am?”

“Yes. I've been making excuses to avoid getting involved. I'd seen my mother cry when my dad left. Then I buried the bad stuff but it was always there.”

“See, I was right. Your mom should hang out her counseling shingle.”

“You were right about something else, too.”

“I was?” she asked, stunned.

He nodded. “You and I continuing to see each other as just friends, that would have been a big mistake.”

The knife in her heart twisted. Who knew being right could hurt so much? Struggling to keep her voice steady she said, “A mistake?”

“Yeah. Because friendship doesn't exactly describe how I feel about you. I'm in l—”

“Holy cow!” she said, looking at her watch. “I'm late for group.” She walked past him, toward the door.

“Liz, wait. I've got to tell you—”

She shook her head. “It's hard enough for new moms to get anywhere on time. The least I can do is not keep them waiting.”

She made it into the hallway and hurried toward classroom 2. In spite of all her self-warnings hope blossomed in her heart. Sam could be right. She should stop ignoring the obvious. She was crazy about Joe Marchetti. She should get over her fear of falling and go after what she wanted. She would do that right after she fulfilled her obligation to the support group.

“What just happened?” Joe said to the empty room. “No way am I waiting.”

He went after her. He'd prepared himself to fight the good fight. He'd known it wouldn't be easy to win her. But he hadn't expected to compete with her job. Well, dammit, he couldn't wait until her meeting was over. He'd been living in hell ever since Liz had dumped him. He couldn't stand it anymore. He wanted things settled between them once and for all. If he had to do it in front of God and the new mothers' support group, then so be it. But one way or the other, he was going to fix things.

There were only four moms with babies in the room. At least that worked in his favor. He recognized Andie and Barbara and their respective offspring. The other two women were strangers.

“Liz, before you start, I want to settle things between you and I.”

“This isn't the time or place.”

“I'm sorry about that.” He turned to the moms. “I apologize for bursting in like this, but Liz and I have some issues.”

“Romantic issues?” Andie adjusted her nursing baby.

“Yes,” he said.

“Then go right ahead,” she said. “You guys are more entertaining than my soap opera.”

Liz looked at the woman and shook her head. “I was counting on you ladies for backup.”

Barbara tossed a strand of long blond hair over her shoulder. “He looks determined, Liz. Might as well get it over with. You know how men are when they get that whole focus thing going.”

“Actually, no,” Liz said.

“Then let me show you,” Joe said. “I want you in my life—”

“Now there's focus,” she said wryly. “In your life? As what? Friends? We've already gone through this. You're a confirmed bachelor.”

“I was a little hasty about that,” he admitted. “I had a long talk with Ma—”

“Uh-oh,” Andie said. “You're not a mama's boy are you?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “But she explained some things that happened when I was a kid, a situation I hardly even remembered.” He glanced at the women watching him intently. No way would he air dirty laundry in front of them. He respected his parents too much. They'd put it behind them. Once he'd explained to the woman he loved why he'd messed up, they would put it behind them, too.

He turned back to Liz. “Ma said she talked to you about it at the wedding.”

She nodded. “I remember.”

“It stuck with me. That situation made a negative imprint on an impressionable young boy. And along with the less than successful relationships I've seen, well I guess you could say it all made me gun-shy.”

“You were so adamant about giving up on finding what your folks have. Why should I believe that you've changed your mind?” Liz challenged.

“Because I'm looking at things differently now. I know there's no such thing as a perfect relationship—”

“You can say that again,” Andie interjected.

He grinned at the woman, then looked back at Liz. What was she thinking? Was he getting through to her? He couldn't tell by the expression on her face. But so far her comments made him apprehensive that the same moxie that had attracted him to her in the first place would work against him now.

He met her gaze, willing her to believe him. “It takes work to be a couple. I'm ready, willing and able to do what it takes to make a successful relationship with you, Liz.”

“I don't know,” she said, shaking her head. “You were so set on staying
friends—
”

Barbara groaned. “He didn't give you that speech, did he? The old it's getting too serious, let's just stay friends line?”

“I did not,” he defended himself. He pointed to Liz. “She was the one who insisted on the friends label.”

“Liz, what were you thinking?” a brunette holding a sleeping baby asked.

Liz looked at her. “Jessica, it wasn't like that. Getting serious scared me because of what happened in
my family. I didn't want to get in over my head.” She glanced at the moms, then looked at Joe. “But I couldn't help it.”

Joe knew she was weakening. He held up his hand. “I solemnly swear, in front of this new mothers' support group, that I will never be unfaithful to you.”

“I think he means it,” chimed in a redhead, standing so she could bounce her baby.

“It's just not that simple,” Liz said.

Time for reinforcements. Joe turned to the moms. “Help me out here. Why won't she see me anymore? Why won't she listen to me?”

“Maybe you're not saying what she needs to hear,” Andie said.

“Such as?” Joe shot back.

Andie shifted the infant in her arms. “That you love her. That you can't live without her. That you want to marry her.” She looked at Liz. “Well? Has he said any of that?”

“Nope,” she confirmed. “He's done none of the above.”

“All right.” He went down on one knee in front of all of them. He took Liz's hand and had the satisfaction of knowing that she was shaking, too. He met her gaze. “Liz, this is a tough room. They want flowery declarations and I'll do my best, but the bottom line is, and it's the honest truth, I love you. I've missed you. I'm a mess without you. Will you do me the honor of spending the next fifty years with me? Will you marry me?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Joe, I—” She stopped and swallowed hard, shaking her head.

“Anyone can see that he loves you,” Barbara said. “Liz, you'd be a fool to turn him down.”

Liz nodded. “You're right. And I've been the world's biggest fool.” She met Joe's gaze. “I was afraid when you would only commit to friendship. I had to pull back from you to protect myself. I know you're telling me the truth about loving me.”

Relief filtered through the tension he'd carried with him all day. “How do you know?”

“It's in your kiss.” She pulled him to his feet. “Now it's my turn. I need to tell you how much I love you.”

She took his face in her hands and drew it down and stood on tiptoe. Touching her lips to his in a tender, truthful, heartfelt demonstration of her love, she sighed against his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and deepened the communication.

When they came up for air, Joe looked around and noticed that they were alone. “I busted up your group. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not.” She grinned at him. “What do you want to bet they're going home to do ‘you know' with some husbands who will be happy men?”