Tea and Destiny (9 page)

Tommy and Paul had finished their baths by the time he went to get them. The bathroom floor was under a sea of puddles. Plastic boats and toy animals were underfoot and soaked towels were scattered everywhere. For the most part, as near as he could tell, they had managed to wash off the worst of the dirt in the process of creating the watery havoc.

“Okay, guys, into bed.”

“Will you come and tuck us in?”

Hugs and kisses later, the house was quiet. He knocked on David’s door, poked his head in and found the boy doing his homework.

“Don’t stay up too much longer.”

“I won’t.”

“I wish you’d come with us tonight.”

“It’s okay. I had stuff to do here.”

Hank nodded. “Maybe another time.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sighing, Hank shut the door. David’s aloofness saddened him, especially since he now knew the cause. He’d stayed behind tonight simply because he’d been afraid of doing something wrong. It was safer to stick with something familiar, to sit quietly in his room doing his homework. Nobody got angry at a straight-A student. Nobody got rid of a thirteen-year-old who never made any noise. Hank vowed to keep trying to include him in more activities, to give him back his boyhood.

After Hank had cleaned up the bathroom, he went outside to wait for Ann. He took a beer with him and settled down in the hammock. Rocking it to and fro with one foot, he began drifting off. Rousing himself, he glanced at the illuminated dial of his watch. It was almost ten o’clock. He sat straight up, nearly tumbling from the hammock in the process.

“What the hell? Where is she?”

Ann would not go off and leave those children alone unless it had been an emergency. Now wait, he reminded himself. They hadn’t been alone exactly. Jason had been there, which explained the makeshift dinner. Still, surely she should have been home by now. What if one of the kids had gotten sick? What if Melissa had had one of her dreams and had awakened frightened and crying? Jason couldn’t have coped with that. The more he thought about it, the more furious he became.

It was typical female behavior. His own mother hadn’t been able to stand the loneliness of the house at night. By the time he was ten he was used to the
absences, accustomed to her flighty refusal to accept parental responsibility. His father had apparently had enough of her flirtations within the first year of the marriage. He had gone before Hank had even been born. The whole experience had colored Hank’s relationships with women. He enjoyed them, appreciated their beauty the way a connoisseur appreciated a fine vintage wine, but he’d never wanted to possess one in any sort of lasting way. He’d learned from the cradle on that there was no such thing as a lasting commitment when it came to a woman.

Still, everything he’d discovered about Ann ran counter to that image. She’d always seemed rock solid, dependable. She was an instinctive nurturer, one of those people who gave a part of herself to everyone she met. She adored these kids. She’d never once given him any reason to doubt her love or her commitment to them. A blinding image of her car crashing made him sick to his stomach. He began pacing. If she didn’t get home in the next half hour, he’d call the police. In the meantime, he’d ask Jason what he knew about her absence. Surely she’d at least called.

He tapped on Jason’s door, then heard Paul’s sleepy voice. He stuck his head in. Paul was blinking at him. There was no sign of Jason. Damn that kid. He’d obviously sneaked off the minute he heard Hank go outside.

The only thing left to do was wait. He paced some more. It was nearly midnight when he finally heard the car door slam and heard Ann’s voice as she called out a cheerful good-night.

“Thanks, Tom. I’m glad I went.”

Tom?
He’d been tucking in kids and worrying
himself sick and she’d been out on a date? He watched as she came around to the kitchen door.

“So you had a good time?” he said, his voice brimming over with sarcasm. He was furious with himself for believing that she was any different.

“Hank?”

“Who else were you expecting?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything is just swell. Next time you want a baby-sitter, though, I’d suggest you hire one.”

Even in the dark, he could see her stiffen. Her arms folded around her waist. “What are you talking about?” she said defensively. “Jason was watching the kids.”

“Wanna bet?”

“But I talked to him. He promised. Besides, I thought Paul and Tommy were going to be with you.”

“They were. Once we got home, though, Jason took off without mentioning that you had a date.”

“I did not have a date. I went to a meeting. I tried to call you, but you’d already left. I thought Jason would tell you where I was.” A tense silence hung over them for several minutes before she finally took a deep breath and asked, “Is that the problem? You thought I had a date?” There was a note of surprise in her voice. He was too angry to acknowledge what it implied about her self-esteem.

“Why the hell should that be a problem?” he snapped. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“That’s right, I don’t. This household ran just fine before your arrival. I wasn’t counting on you to look after the kids, so why are you in such a snit?”

“I am not in a snit.”

“What would you call it?” she asked patiently.

Hank tried to analyze the emotions that were whirling through him. Relief at discovering that she was okay had quickly given way to anger and jealousy. “I was worried,” he said finally. It was the only admission he had any intention of making. It was bad enough that she was so damn calm. He wouldn’t have her laughing at him.

“I’m sorry. I really thought Jason would explain. I went to Key West for a meeting about offshore drilling. It was unexpected or I would have told you about it this morning. Next time I’ll try your cell and leave a message to cover the bases.”

He nodded. He figured it was about as close to an apology as he was likely to get and probably about as much as he deserved after his sarcasm.

“How about a cup of tea?” she said quietly.

Despite himself, he grinned and felt himself beginning to relax. Tea. Ann’s cure for everything. The world was clearly righting itself, getting back to normal.

“I’ll sit with you while you have one. I’ll have a beer.”

He sat down in the kitchen and tilted his chair back on two legs, watching as she made the tea. There were no wasted motions, just quiet efficiency. Her expression, even after his irrational behavior, was unperturbed. That serenity conveyed itself to him, drawing him into the aura of warmth that seemed to surround her. He felt the last of the tension draining away.

“So tell me about Jason,” she suggested, sitting down opposite him.

The muscles across the back of his shoulders knotted at once. “He’s gone off somewhere,” he said carefully, anticipating her panic.

“Gone off?” she said without the slightest evidence of concern. “What makes you think that?”

“I sent him to his room earlier. When I checked a while ago, he was gone.”

She shrugged. “He’s probably down by the water. That’s where he goes whenever he’s upset. He’ll be back in an hour or so. What happened?”

“We had a fight over his attitude, as usual.”

“Don’t you think maybe you’re a little hard on him? He is just a kid.”

“I know, and I had an idea. What would you think about my offering him a job? He could work after school, pick up a little money, maybe develop a better sense of responsibility.”

Her eyes lit up. “You’d do that for him?”

“Why not?”

“I know you don’t really trust him.”

He didn’t bother denying it. “Even so, maybe he just needs a break.”

“That’s exactly what he needs.” She reached over and took his hand. “Thank you, Hank.”

Startled by the impulsive gesture, Hank wasn’t sure how to react. Ann kept him constantly off balance. With any other woman, the touch might have been an invitation. With Ann, it was nothing more than an innocent, friendly gesture of thanks. There was nothing at all innocent about his reaction, however. His pulse was hammering.

“Ann…” he began.

As if she’d guessed the change in his mood, the swift stirring of desire, she patted his hand affectionately once more, then withdrew.

“Tell me about your night,” she suggested. Something
in her penetrating gaze hinted that she was after more than a rundown on his experiences in getting the kids to bed. He doubted she gave a hang about what he’d watched on TV, either.

“It was quiet,” he said, intentionally evading what he suspected she wanted to know. “Paul and Tommy had a great time at the construction site. I think Tommy’s going to be a construction worker. It was all I could do to keep him from taking off across those girders. He’s sleeping with the hard hat I gave him.”

“I’m sure he loved all the attention.”

“I couldn’t talk David into going.”

“I’m not surprised, but thanks for trying.”

All the polite chitchat was beginning to grate on Hank’s nerves, even though he was the one who’d started it. “This isn’t really what’s on your mind, is it?” he said finally.

“No.”

“Go ahead. Say it.”

“Your reaction when I got home, it was more than worry, Hank. You were really angry. Tell me why.”

The fact that she sounded as much like a psychologist as a concerned woman really bugged him. He didn’t want to be treated like one of her patients. He wasn’t interested in baring his soul.

“You been reading those textbooks again, doctor?” he said.

She waited, her gaze intent.

He shrugged finally. Holding out was pointless. Ann was better at it than he was. She did it for a living. “Okay. Maybe I was jealous. Big deal.”

She smiled. “I’m flattered, but I’m not convinced.”

He tried to smile back. “I’m making a big admission here and you don’t believe me? What’s the deal?”

“Let’s just say you’re not a man whose confidence is easily shaken. Assuming for a moment that you were actually interested in me, you wouldn’t be the least bit thrown by the fact that I’d spent the evening with another man. You’d chalk it up as a challenge.”

Oddly enough, Hank realized that her analysis had a ring of truth to it. “Uncanny,” he muttered under his breath.

She chuckled. “I’m a psychologist, Hank. Not a wizard.”

“Same difference, if you ask me.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. What I really sensed underlying your anger was resentment. Is that possible?”

Hank thought back to all those unexplained absences that had tormented his childhood. “Maybe so,” he admitted finally.

Ann’s compassion reached out to him. He could feel it stealing over him, easing years of pain. “What happened?” she asked in that gentle tone that might have set off desire under other circumstances. Now, for some utterly absurd reason, it merely made him want to weep. He wasn’t wild about the reaction. He hadn’t shed a tear in more than twenty-five years, not since he’d finally figured out that things weren’t ever likely to be any different.

“Hank?”

Despite his intention to curtail any private revelations, he found himself saying, “I guess I was just remembering some stuff I thought I’d put behind me.”

“And you felt betrayed again,” she guessed with more
uncanny accuracy. Even without knowing the details, she’d struck on the truth.

He lifted his gaze to hers. A desire to be completely honest with her compelled him to admit it. “Maybe so. I got left behind all too often when I was a kid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it was the kids you left on their own. Not me.”

Ann shook her head. “They weren’t alone, Hank. They had you.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I think it’s pretty darn good.”

Her voice rang with quiet conviction, but he searched her face, looking for evidence of the easy comeback, the quick lie. He found sincerity. The last of his tension eased, replaced by a sudden need to hold her, to feel even closer to her. Then he was struck by a sudden and disconcerting revelation. He felt closer to Ann at this moment than he’d ever felt to any of the women he’d taken to his bed.

Could be he was growing up.

Could be he was heading for disaster.

Chapter 6

S
omething had changed between them. Ann noticed it at once the next morning. After reluctantly opening up to her, she had anticipated that Hank would be reserved. She had hoped for it, in fact. She desperately needed anything that would put a little distance between them. Instead, the expression in Hank’s eyes was bolder than ever, more speculative. The atmosphere was as emotionally charged as if they’d made love. The edge of anticipation that teased her senses made her nervous.

Her wariness did not, however, keep her from snatching an entire box of jelly doughnuts from in front of Hank before he could swallow the first mouthful of sugar. She’d watched him devour about as many empty calories as she could without intervening. He watched the box go into the trash can with surprising equanimity. Heady with her success, she reached for his can of soda. He clamped it in a death grip.

“No way,” he said. “I need this.”

She decided it was only possible to wean an adult from so many bad habits at a time. She released the can.

“How about a nice bowl of oat bran?” she suggested cheerfully.

“I’d rather eat wood chips.”

The grumpy remark brought forth giggles from the kids, who’d been avidly watching the contest of wills.

“Oatmeal, then?” she said, undaunted.

His injured gaze pierced her. “Is this some sort of punishment?”

“Take the oatmeal,” David warned. “It’s the best you’re likely to get when she’s on one of these health kicks. By the weekend she might loosen up enough to make pancakes.”

“Not for you, you little traitor,” she said, turning on David with mock ferocity and giving up the battle of wills with Hank. Let him figure out what to eat now that his doughnuts were in the garbage. “Where’s Jason? Is he up?”

“I’m here,” he said, skirting Hank’s vicinity and dragging out the chair farthest from his nemesis. Ann could practically feel the animosity radiating from the teenager. She wondered if Hank could possibly bridge it or, for that matter, if he was even still planning to try.