Blame It On Paris

CHAPTER TWELVE

KELLY MOVED as fast as Will, had her clothes back on and was cleaning up even before Will started the motor. They headed back to the marina, taking advantage of both the sail and the ship's motor to achieve maximum speed.

She found a plastic bag below, where she swooped up the rose petals and secured them in her purse before bounding back on deck. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing until we get there. Then you can help me tie up."

She nodded, thinking it strange how, considering all that had just happened, she hadn't forgotten Will asking her to go to Paris with him. That subject was obviously completely tabled for now. Still, her heart kept reeling from the possibility. All this time, she'd been so sure Paris had only been a fantasy she could never return to.

Well, maybe Paris had been a fantasy. But Will wasn't. Maybe they could go back.

By the time they pulled into the marina, Will's face was harsh. There were no smiles in his eyes.

"Do you want me to drop you off home?" he asked her.

They tied lines, covered the sail and locked up. then charged for his car at the same breakneck pace. "My apartment is so close to the hospital that it'll work either way," she said. "If you want to be with your family alone, then drop me off. But if you want me to be there with you…I want to. I know your family. Maybe I can help, Will. Choose whatever way works best for you."

"I want you with me." There was no hesitation in his voice. When they climbed in his car. he brushed a brief, hard kiss on her lips, a kiss of connection.

In less than an hour, they were striding into the hospital. Will stopped at the information desk, discovered that his dad had been moved from the E.R. to a private room. Halfway down the corridor. Kelly recognized Will's mom. She didn't know his sisters but the three women were readily identifiable from their blond hair to the Maguire bones, even if they hadn't instantly descended on Will like hummingbirds.

Kelly doubted Will even realized how naturally he took charge, how naturally they all knew they could let down their guard once he was there. His mom spotted her, and separated from the rest to reach out with both arms.

Kelly immediately folded the woman into a hug, saw tears start to well in Will's mother's eyes. Apparently Barbara had been determined to hold it together for her family, but given a sympathetic outsider, all the fear for her husband had sneaked to the surface. Kelly had been afraid she'd be in the way, but now she was glad she'd come.

"The doctors just talked to us. Aaron's going to be fine." Barbara said, although her voice quavered.

'That's great news."

"It was just so frightening. The car was completely totaled. And he was covered in blood and knocked out for a few minutes, so initially we had no idea how badly he was hurt. And all we could do was wait. It took ages to do all the X-rays and tests and finally hear what was wrong."

Will came up behind the two of them, heard the rest.

"He's got some terrible-looking bruises. A broken ankle. They want him completely off his leg for a couple weeks. It took forever in the emergency room because they had to stitch him up all over the place." Her voice caught again.

Will put his hand on Barbara's shoulder. "I'm going in there, Mom."

"Good. Go."

Will looked at Kelly, as if to say. You'll watch over my girls for me? As if he had to ask. Down the hall, there was the usual ubiquitous waiting room, where they could plunk down-or pace-until Will returned. Kelly easily got his sisters talking. They all wanted to spell out the details of the accident, over and over, as if talking could purge the fear from their minds.

"It wasn't Dad's fault. The police said the other driver was drunk. In the middle of the day. Swerved right into Dad's lane, and then Dad swerved trying to avoid him, only that meant that cars were coming at him from both directions. His car looks like an accordion. There's nothing to fix. It's a complete write-off."

"But really, it's a miracle everyone walked away from it." Will's mom said firmly. "A car is just a car."

"I know, Mom. I know. But who's going to run the business while Dad's laid up?"

The question was rhetorical. Kelly figured. Unless they'd all lost their minds, the Maguire women knew perfectly well how that egg was going to fry.

Will emerged from his father's hospital room moments later. The family hung together a while longer, making plans. Aaron needed serious rest, and the nurse firmly asked that there be no more visitors, that it would be better if everyone left until the next morning. Will agreed but wanted to speak to the doctor one last time himself. He sent the Maguire women home, arranged for his sisters to get their mom dinner and promised Barbara that he'd be home-her home-before dark. His mother really wanted him to stay with her that night.

Kelly hung tight until he'd talked to the doctor. By the time Will was steering her toward the exit doors, the parking lot was only half-filled, the late-afternoon sun relentless and hot. It was the first second she'd had him alone in hours.

'Thanks for staying," Will said. "I didn't realize it was going to take this long."

"It's fine. I was glad to be there. I like your whole family."

"And they adored you on sight."

"They don't adore me, fella. They think I'm the key to keeping you in South Bend. That gives me so much political clout that I can probably trip over my mouth a few dozen times and still land in the plus column." She added smoothly. "So…you agreed to take over the company for your dad?"

He startled in surprise. "How did you know that?"

"Because he's hurt. And he's your father. And I'm guessing it's the first thing he asked you when you went into his room."

"You've got that right." He started the car and merged into traffic. When he didn't add anything further, Kelly pushed.

"How're you feeling about it?"

"You mean, because it's the last thing in hell I ever wanted to do?"

He sighed. "It's exactly what you said. Dad's hurt. That's a whole different thing. He'll be back on his feet in a couple of weeks-which means, knowing my dad, he'll find some way to be in the office at the end of next week, no later."

"And?" She knew there was more.

"And, I knew from his expression that he thought this accident was the best thing that could have happened. He thought it'd manipulate me into sitting in his chair. Keeping me here."

"And?"

He shot her a look. "Before you were in my life, did you know, no one ever pried? I mean, my sisters did, but I learned how to play them when I was a kid. You, though, are worse than a bloodhound."

'Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." He reached over and tracked a finger down her ribs, just to remind her that he knew her hopeless ticklish spots. And to avoid being plagued anymore, he answered her questions. "It doesn't matter whether he's trying to manipulate me or not. Doesn't matter what I want to do. He's hurt. He needs help. He's family. Even when I want to strangle him, he's still my dad. And that's that."

He pulled into her driveway a few minutes later, frowning at the look of her place, the way he always did. Tonight, though, he was obviously distracted, and when he stopped the car, she insisted he not walk her to the door. She knew he still had miles to go that night, and that his mom was waiting for him.

Before climbing out. though, she said gently, "You need to be here, but I know you must be feeling trapped. Still, since you're stuck staying longer. Will, you might as well use the time to forge something different with your dad. I know, I know. It hasn't been going well. But this is another chance, right?

Whether you asked for it or not, it's still another opportunity to try something new, some way to get along better with him."

"Kelly…" She heard the annoyance in Will's voice, knew-par for the course-that she'd gone too far.

She leaned across the gearshift, which required major acrobatics, and cupped his cheek so she could kiss him. Kissing him was easy enough, but shaping the kiss she wanted was a serious challenge, because she didn't want a plain old smack. She wanted a lip-melting, down-and-dirty. heart-squeezing pressure-cooker of a kiss. When she lifted her head, her heart was racing as if she'd run a three-minute mile, and her spine felt permanently twisted.

She said softly, swiftly. "I love you, Will." Before tumbling out of the car and heading inside.

He didn't answer. But then she hadn't given him a chance to.

Right then, neither of them had answers for anything. Much less each other. Kelly thought.

She felt unsettled even before she walked into the apartment-and more so after she saw the mess. Her roommate was out somewhere. There were no signs of life beyond a mound of soda cans, dozens of beer cans, flies buzzing around pizza left in the sink from last night and the stink of dirty socks on the floor near the door.

Normally Skip was a pretty decent roommate, but every once in a while he remembered he was still a college kid and reverted to type. A complete slob. A condemnable-by-any-health-department-standardslob.

She wasn't about to clean up after him. Kelly told herself every time. As she filled the sink with sudsy water and shook out a fresh trash bag, she told herself she was only doing this for herself, because she couldn't stand the mess or the smells. Which was true. Or true enough.

But it was also true that her plan to get out of this dump had become newly complicated. Will was staying longer in South Bend because of his dad now. He'd also asked her to go with him to Paris. She didn't know how or when any of that was going to resolve, which meant that for her to make any sudden, big moves without being sure of all the consequences seemed foolhardy.

Which meant, of course, that she was stuck in this nightmare of a place for a while longer.

Suddenly feeling too ornery to settle on any serious project, she plunked down with her itchy mood and pounced on e-mail. Naturally, there was no response from her father, but that didn't stop her from sending him another post.

Bonsoir, mon père. I see there's still no response from you…but until I get a message that my e-mails are undeliverable or some clear indication you're blocking me, I'm determined to keep up a dialogue. Even if you think I'm a complete *chameau* and a peau de vache-you're stuck with my being your daughter.

And since you're stuck, you're destined to hear a piece of my mind today, because I am really upset. In fact, I've had it-had it-with fathers who treat their children like inanimate objects. You have no idea what I've been through with Will today. He loves his dad, but his dad only seems to love him back if Will does what he wants. And then there's you. Who never cared enough to even find out if I existed.

Well, since I can't be with Will tonight-and I'm tired of living with all this unsettledness-I'm going over to Mom's to have it out with her. It's about time I heard her story about why she told me you were dead. I'd also like to know why and how she could have fallen in love with a man- namely you-who apparently didn't give a damn about her. I'm sorry to be so cross in this e-mail. It's really been a rotten day. Love, Kelly

She hit Send, and then abruptly realized that she'd written exactly what she wanted to do with the rest of her evening.

SHE FOUND her mom on the back porch, doing business…a cell phone in one hand, her laptop open on a white wrought-iron table, her bare feet cushioned on an ottoman…the toenail paint shiny red and still wet. her toes separated by white cotton balls.

Char looked up with a quick smile when she saw Kelly. Both of them had been miserable about their relationship lately, Kelly knew. Her mom's eyebrows raised when she saw the bottle of wine, but even though she continued the business call, she motioned for Kelly to come in. Kelly motioned back that she was headed for the kitchen first.

She knew where the wine opener and glasses were, filled the two goblets near to the rim-no tame drinking for this conversation-and then carried the tray through the living room and onto the back porch again.

Her mother was still on the phone, but she blinked at the size of the poured wine-shot a curious, concerned look at Kelly-and started to seriously hustle the caller along.

The white lilacs were just fading against the far fence, and the peonies tucked on the north side of the house were beginning to grow heavy with fat, pink blooms. The lawn was fresh clipped and looked luxuriously soft and green. A neighbor's mower buzzed three doors down. Somewhere kids were yelling and whooping it up on a trampoline.

Every sight and sound was familiar. Maybe there was nothing fancy or expensive about the suburb, but so many childhood memories were etched in her mind. It was the kind of neighborhood where people watched out for one another, the kind of neighborhood where she'd go to Jason's house after school as often as he came to hers, and everybody did big block parties and knew each other's business and yelled if a child did something unsafe, even if it wasn't their own kid.

She took a first sip of the wine, thinking that she wanted this. Not her mother's life. Her own. But she did want to raise kids and have a family in a neighborhood like this. It didn't have to be in South Bend.

It could be anywhere. But she couldn't deny wanting to raise a family in a neighborhood. American style. Not French.

The wine suddenly caught in the back of her throat, but then her mother finally hung up the phone and turned to her.

"Sounded like a business deal that is really going well?" Kelly said swiftly.

"Yes. a closing. A terrific deal, but forget that. What's the wine for? Did you make up with Jason? Or have a fight and not make up? What's wrong?"

"It's not about Jason, Mom. It's about you." She handed her mom the biggest glass. "Take a sip," she urged her.

"Are you pregnant?"

"Take a sip."

"God. You're not sick, are you? You look so wonderful-"

Kelly sat across from her, on the old white frame rocker that had once belonged to her grandmother. "Come on, I told you I met my dad when I was in Paris. You know we're overdue for this conversation. Enough's enough. Tell me the story."

Her mother opened her mouth, and then stopped, looking sick and unnerved. Her mom, who never had a hair out of place, who could probably run the UN in her sleep, stared at the wine in her glass as if she were lost in the reflection.

Kelly leaned forward. "His wife died, some time ago. But his two sons are a little older than me, so he had to have been married and had those kids when you met him. I have half brothers. Mom. Family. Maybe none of them want to know me-and maybe I don't want to know them-but darn it, they're blood kin."

Finally Char's eyes shot up. "I swear I was going to tell you. honey."

"When I was fifty?"

Her mother's cell sang out, but Char turned it off. She closed her laptop and faced Kelly with soft, worn eyes. "This is what it was all really about, isn't it? Your breakup with Jason. Not so much about Will, but about finding out about your father."

"Maybe partly. Cripes, I don't know." Kelly sighed, a long, miserable sound coming from her throat. "I felt totally and completely thrown when I found out he was alive, when I found out who he was. I thought my dad was a hero-not a guy who played around on his wife, much less had a wife with young children. And you, Mom, I trusted more than anyone else alive. And you lied to me. I love you. but I don't understand why you didn't tell me the truth. I know everything in your life isn't my business, but for heaven's sake. I could have had a father in my life. Even if he was a piker, he still might have had a role in my life. Why did you lie?"

"Because I thought I had to, honey."

At the look in her mother's face, Kelly leaned forward and grabbed the wine bottle. This was no time for sipping. She filled up both glasses and waited.

Her mom haltingly started to fill in the blanks. "I went to Paris to study for a year at the Sorbonne- which you know. And that's when I met him. He wasn't in school. I met him at a bistro. It was chance. I took one look and fell head over heels." She pushed at her hair. "I was the archaic good girl. A virgin. And your dad…well, he was every fantasy I ever dreamed of. Strong, yet gentle. Worldly, experienced with women. He knew what to say, what to do, to make me feel like the most desirable woman who had ever been born." She sighed. "I'm sure that sounds naive."

"No, it doesn't." Kelly said softly, thinking she understood. Too well. Too much. Too completely.

"I'm not trying to make excuses. I'm just trying to say how it was. I not only fell in love, I fell way, way over my head. I didn't have a clue he was married- he didn't lie to me, he just didn't tell me. It's different there. Or it was different then. He married for business, as did his wife. They were happy enough. He just went outside the marriage from time to time for…for romance. I guess you'd say. I don't believe your father saw it as wrong. Cheating in a marriage there wasn't looked at the same way it is here. Or maybe he thought I was smarter than I was-smarter about life, smarter about men-and that I knew the rules of the game we were playing."

Lights started coming on around the neighborhood. The sound of children's voices died, as the kids were called in for bed. The first firefly showed up in the dusky light. And still they talked.

"When I found out he was married…in fact, that his wife had recently given birth to new baby, a son… I almost died. He said his wife hadn't been well enough to have "relations' for months, as if that explained why he'd strayed. Truthfully, Kelly. I shut down like a slammed door when I found out. I bought a ticket home in a matter of hours, was throwing things in a suitcase, taking off for home at the speed of sound."

"You didn't know you were pregnant then?"

"Didn't even cross my mind. Getting away from him, from Paris, from the whole mess, was the only thing on my mind."

"But, Mom…" That time, when Kelly tried to pour, she discovered they'd finished the bottle. Undoubtedly there was wine or liquor somewhere in the house, because her mom entertained, even if she wasn't much of a drinker. But when it came down to it, she didn't want any more. And neither, from the look of her mother's face, did she. "Why didn't you tell me that you never got married? Why did you keep this a secret from me? Why didn't you tell him that he'd gotten you pregnant? Or did you?"

"I didn't tell anyone. Obviously, my mother knew there was a man in France, but not all of the circumstances. She nursed me through a broken heart, helped me through the pregnancy. So did the rest of the family. But as far as telling anyone else-or you-I never told because I was just plain ashamed."

"But why? Tons of women choose to be single moms. You weren't living in the Dark Ages, Mom. No one has to cover stuff like that up anymore."

Her mother said quietly, "He was married, with small children."

"But still-"

"He was married. With small children," her mother repeated. "I wasn't ashamed of what other people would think. I was ashamed of me."

Kelly sucked in a breath. "Aw, Mom. Damn it all."

"And that's why I didn't want you to know. Because I didn't want you ashamed of both your parents. Bad enough that your father was a cheater, but if I'd told you the truth, you'd have thought I was the kind of woman who'd sleep with a married man, who'd risk breaking up a marriage-a marriage with small children. I didn't want you to know the truth. I wanted to give you a family you could be proud of. I wanted you to think you came from good people. I wanted you to think that I was a good woman, a good mother."

"Oh, for God's sake. Mom…" Kelly surged out of the chair and wrestled her mom out of hers. She folded Char up in a big hug and squeezed tight.

Cripes, she'd come here afraid she'd end up crying…not making her mother cry.

And she'd come to demand answers…only dagnabbit. her mom had given her answers. Exactly what she wanted. Yet instead of making her feel better, she'd not only upset her mother, but made herself feel worse.

In fact, she felt downright scared.

Will was nothing like her dad. He wasn't married. Wasn't a cheater. He was an honorable guy right down to the gut. But damn…Kelly kept thinking that it was hard not to be afraid of repeating her mother's mistake.