Blame It On Paris

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"KELLY…" Her mom shot in the back screen door. "You were right."

"About what?" Kelly was in the kitchen to grab a fresh roll of paper towels and a new tray of brownies.

"He's here."

This batch of brownies was sticking harder than the last. Kelly had to dig in the spatula at the edges. "Didn't I tell you he'd come?"

"Okay, yes, you did." Her mom leaned against the counter. "He's a good guy," she said slowly.

"I told you that, too."

"Yeah, well, you came home from Paris all different. Some of it had to be him. Maybe I didn't want to believe it was about me and your father so much. It was a lot easier to believe that Will was at fault."

Kelly glanced at her mom again. "And now? Do you still feel that way?"

"Now, I guess I wouldn't have any trouble loving a man who would walk on water for my daughter. Which, just for the record, is exactly what he was doing a minute ago. Jason found him, and I believe Jason was drinking a fair amount before he showed up this afternoon. If Will were my boyfriend, I'd probably go out there and find some subtle way to rescue him."

"Holy kamoly, were you waiting for an invitation before telling me?" Kelly left the brownie tray and the paper towels and galloped outside.

She had no problem finding the guys. The neighborhood, being the neighborhood, was never quiet at a gig like this unless there was something fascinating worth being quiet for.

Under an old elm tree, near the birthday present table-and in the shade of one of the noisier poker games-Jason was sprawled on the ground. Will crouched next to him.

No one was going anywhere near the two except for Kelly, who hadn't run faster since high school track.

Will felt her shadow, looked up immediately with panicked eyes. "Kelly, I never touched him. I think he'd had a fair amount to drink. And he was standing in the sun. And-"

"I'm guessing that's right. He never could handle much alcohol."

"He's having a real tough day." Will said.

"Aren't we all?" Any other time, a dozen people would have helped them. Instead, both families watched the two of them shift Jason over to a cool grassy spot in the shade.

"Need a lukewarm damp cloth. Maybe a thermometer. If this is just passing out from drinking, it's one thing," Will said. '"But if it's heat related, we'd better figure it out pretty quick."

Will took his pulse. Kelly wanted to shake her head, not surprised Will was taking charge even with her pistol of an ex. Minutes later, Jason's face and neck were being sponged down with lukewarm water. His pulse and temperature revealed nothing out of the ordinary. The diagnosis was too much beer too early in the day, for a guy who was already hot under the collar.

Jason's sisters got around to moving in, then. A measure of their acceptance of Will, whether Will knew it or not, was their exchanging some basic dialogue with him, even a second of laughter.

"Come on, you," Kelly ordered Will, once the crisis was over and Jason was in his family's hands. In an ideal world, she'd serve him a glass of lemonade and hang out at the party with him, but nothing was ideal today. Everybody brought food and drink to these neighborhood parties, but kitchen detail- since it was her mom's birthday-fell on her for this one. There was no end to trash pickup or delivery of more food.

Since she was doing it, Will was doing it. The chores were a major comedown for a guy from the other side of the tracks-mopping up spills, serving the seniors, picking up paper plates and pop cans, carting trash. But Will never left her side.

"Don't be angry," Will said. "I know you told me not to come."

"It's all right. I knew you would, and I really need to talk with you besides. I found the guy you were looking for. Will. It just came together this morning, in fact."

"Wait. How did you know I'd be here? And what guy?"

"John Henry." They both had to stop in front of the seniors. Anyone over sixty-five expected to be waited on in this crowd, even if they could outrun and outdance the younger generations by miles. Beer, lemonade, pop and ice water were delivered. Will brought up the rear with a trash bin.

"You were right about him, Will. There are missing periods of time. It seems he wasn't John Henry when he started out in Peoria, but Jackson Henry. Jack. Went to Northwestern, like he told you. Majored in economics, mastered in business. Aced the school thing, just like he claimed."

"How did you know I was going to be here?" Will persisted.

She ignored him. His employee problem was of real importance-for him and for her, she thought. "But he took a job with DynCal. You must have read their story. Not at an Enron level, but upper management was still scooping in profits, making their report to stockholders sound better than it was. Your John Henry was fired. Disappeared. Then reinvented himself."

"Wait…" Will was trying to carry two filled trash bags at once. He stashed them in the party garbage containers, then caught up with her at a breakneck pace in spite of the heat. "So. You knew I'd come…"

Kelly was well aware of the family and neighborhood watching Will breaking his butt, doing all the cleanup. "Apparently your John Henry changed his name-legally-when he moved to South Bend. He's doing a good job for you?"

"Too good. Something just didn't seem real. That's what made me nervous." Will finally gave up and pursued her topic instead of his-at least for now. "You do damned good work, brown eyes."

"I know I do." For that smug comment, she got a kiss. On the nose. Which was better than no kiss, but only by a hair. On the other hand, she figured Will realized that PDAs on the home turf in the presence of Jason's family was never going to sell too well. "So what do you think you're going to do about this John Henry, Will?"

"Fire him."

By then they had returned to the kitchen. She was handing him a tray of cookies and another of brownies to take back out, but now she frowned. "Wait a minute-"

"Kel, a soft heart doesn't work in business. The guy lied. He's responsible for money. I can't have it."

"But he didn't necessarily do anything wrong in that company. Maybe they fired him because he wouldn't play crooked ball. Or maybe because he discovered what was going on. I haven't found any evidence he was part of it. And, Will…"

"What?"

She heaped another tin of cookies on top of the ones he was carrying. "I don't think it's weird or wrong that he tried to reinvent himself after making a mistake. Don't we all do that?"

He stopped. So did she. They were outside by then, both their arms full, the sun beating down on both of them, but he seemed to realize, as she did, that somehow the conversation had turned into something a whole lot more serious than the Maguire's employee. And Will tackled it head-on. '"You didn't reinvent yourself because of making a mistake, Kel. You didn't make a mistake. You didn't run away and try to hide out from your problems at all. It's not the same thing."

"In a way, it is. I was about to make a mistake-by going along with lies. Lies about who I was. Lies about who I was expected to be, in a marriage I was expected to want. And I didn't know how to get out of any of it. So I left, to give myself a chance to think and change." She cocked her head and said gently. "You did that, too, Will. Left South Bend because you couldn't figure out how to make the situation better with your dad. That wasn't a crime. You were trying to find a way to cope."

"It's not the same as John Henry."

"No," she agreed softly, and wondered how long they were going to stand there in the sun. dying from the heat, but both of them seemed to simultaneously realize that worries had been festering for both of them for too long. Maybe it wasn't the right time or place. Maybe there was no right time or place. "What's the same, though, Will Maguire, is that neither of us admires someone who can't find a better answer than running away."

"You're implying I've been running away."

"No. I thought that when I first knew you. Not anymore. When I was researching this John Henry for you, though, I kept thinking about us. Your employee ran away from his problems. I've been trying to come to terms with my father-you've been trying to find a way to come to terms with yours. Neither of us are runners. But neither of us are the kind who can just happily move on until we've crossed our t's and dotted our i's."

Will started to look annoyed. And hot. "Okay. Just spit out what you're trying to say. Do you even know where you're going with this?"

Well, she hadn't known until that moment. Until the ball in her stomach turned sharp and scary. She faced him with her heart in her eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that I'll go to Paris with you, Will. Or anywhere else in the universe that you want to go. If you resolve your relationship with your dad first. No matter what you have to do. Find some way to fix it."

"Kel. Don't try that kind of ultimatum thing. Not with me."

She said softly, "I'd never do the ultimatum thing. With anyone but you. Because I love you, Will."

"Now's a hell of a time to tell me. Hundred people around here, most of whom are watching every step I take, hoping I trip."

She cocked her head. Until that moment, she hadn't thought he was aware of how intensely he'd been scrutinized. "I don't know how to tell you this, but you've been passing every test."

"Only because I haven't tripped yet."

"No. Because you're a good guy and you keep showing it."

He put down the brownies and the cookies. Right on the ground. Walked her into the shade of her mother's young maple. "You love these people," he said.

"I do. They've been part of my life forever. They're full of faults. And sometimes they're intrusive and annoying. But they've watched out for me. I've babysat their kids, had a bleacher seat to the rise and fall of some marriages and divorces. They're good people. Will."

"Yeah. I can see that."

"And I hate to tell you this," she murmured, "but you had a great time this afternoon."

"Picking up trash? Carrying stuff in the sun? Hauling your ex-fiancé under a tree? Being grilled and sniffed at and pried into by complete strangers?"

"Yeah, all that. You liked it all."

He opened his mouth and then said, "Well, hell. So I did."

She laughed. So did he.

But she was thinking her heart was feeling so full that it could pop like an overfilled balloon if she wasn't careful. To lose Will now would hurt more than she could bear.

But they really weren't in Paris anymore. And somehow, as hard and fast as they were both moving, trying to change things, trying to fix things, they weren't finding the answers that would enable them to be together.

And they were running out of time.

WILL STOPPED by Kelly's house Wednesday at lunch. She had left a phone message, asking him to make some decisions before she pushed ahead on some renovation projects. He couldn't carve out more than an hour, but he'd shucked his suit coat and was carrying a fast-food hamburger as he waded through the sea of vehicles on the street.

He charged up the walk and poked his head in the door. "Kel?"

He could hear a buzz saw upstairs, the sound of hammering and sanding coming from the kitchen, but Kelly must have heard him above the general din. because she came bounding out of the kitchen area, looking very happy. "You're here! I'm so glad you could make the time. I've got a bunch of stuff to show you."

"I'm okay with your judgment, you know. Told you that already. Your taste's better than mine."

"Well, yes," she teased. "But it's your money, hotshot, and I don't want to waste it."

Mentally he'd been holding his breath when he charged through the door. The whole party for her mom on Saturday was still fresh in his memory. He'd wanted to come through for her. And he thought he had. After all, he hadn't punched out Jason and he seemed to have been grudgingly accepted by her wild clan of friends and family.

That was what he'd hoped for.

But he wasn't a man with any tolerance for ultimatums, especially regarding his father. He'd wanted to hear that she'd come back with him to Paris, but not with strings attached. And hell and a half, but the string that frustrated him wasn't her ultimatum business. It was seeing how happy Kel was here.

She loved the damn place. She was loved.

Kidnapping her to Paris sounded romantic and wonderful and perfect. What the hell did they need anyone else for? They had each other.

One look at her and he knew that was true. She was what he needed, all he needed.

"Hey," she fussed, "are you listening?"

"Of course I'm listening." She was herding him from project to project at the speed of sound.

First, she'd shown him the hardwood floors-newly sanded, ready for a choice of finish. She'd chosen a finish, wanted him to approve. It wasn't the cheapest, but she'd done research and believed it was the sturdiest. That was a yes.

Then she'd picked out models for a new fridge and dishwasher-more easy yeses. Then to the bathroom. She was showing him samples of tile colors.

"So pick," she said.

"One of those blues," he said. "Whatever you think."

"They're all blue, Will. You're not going to be any help to me at all, are you?" It was a rhetorical question, he figured, since Kelly was already moving on to a new subject. "I can't tell you how thrilled my mom was with the present you picked out for her. When did you get so brilliant?"

"She liked it, huh?"

"Are you kidding?" The present had been a gift certificate to a florist, where two coral rosebushes were being saved for her. "My mother was beside herself. You won fifty million brownie points with the neighborhood, besides." She frowned when she heard a noisy engine sound outside. "UPS, it sounds like, I'd better-"

"Of course, go…"

Actually it was FedEx, and when she came back in moments later, he started with another subject they had to cover. "Kelly, I'm stuck on Sunday for my mother's birthday party."

"Well, of course you are, I'm going. All three of your sisters called me. I'm picking you up before church."

"Um, problem there, because I'm not going to church. Which the family knows perfectly well." He could smell his sisters interference. Kelly would have no reason to know his family had set up her '"picking him up" as a maneuver to get him to church. Kelly undoubtedly believed she was helping in some way. He would have explained the situation, but he suddenly caught her expression.

She'd opened an official-looking envelope, looked at the contents and suddenly her face lost color.

"What's in there?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just the lab results." She tossed the paper into a patchwork basket of other toss-out mail by the door.

"What lab results?"

"The DNA test. I had it done when I got back from Paris. I told you about it. I told the lab to send the results to my father's address, not to me. I didn't want or need to see it. I couldn't care less," she said swiftly.

"Whoa." She'd dismissed the report as if it were nothing, which it most certainly wasn't, emotionally or legally, for her. But she moved on as if determined to stick to her conversational agenda.

"Anyway, what if I pick you up. say around quarter to ten on Sunday…because if you're at your mom's that night, then you wouldn't have to drive me'home later. Besides, I don't know if you want me to stay through the whole day."

"It's white tie." Will lifted his voice to be certain she heard this devastating news.

She only lifted a brow. "I've never worn ties. I'm guessing they'll let me in in a dress."

Then he remembered that she wouldn't likely be allergic to dressing up the way he was. "I'll pick you up," he said.

"But it'd be inconvenient for you," she argued.

He was suddenly aware they were arguing about who was doing the driving, and somehow the fact that he wasn't about to attend a mass had gotten lost in the scuffle. So had everything else. And someone had just turned on a noisy power drill upstairs. "Wait a minute. This lab report you just got-that means your dad now knows for sure that you're his daughter?"

"Will, I told you I've been e-mailing my dad ever since I got back from Paris. He hasn't returned a single note. Not a word. He either doesn't want a daughter or he doesn't want me. If he actually needed DNA as proof, then as far as I'm concerned, he can jump in the pond…and I mean that big pond between the continents. Now about the electricity-"

"Kel. No one was talking about electricity."

"But we should have been." She motioned vaguely toward the kitchen. "The guys blew a fuse when they first started working. I just put in another one, but it kept blowing, and the house is of an age, you know, so I called an electrician, asked him to check out the electrical system. Now, I can't imagine you wanting to spend any money you don't have to. but if this were my house. I do believe you should-"

Her cell phone rang at the same time someone knocked on the front door. She threw up her hands at the same time he threw up his. "You get the phone," he said. "I'll get the door."

He glanced at his watch before pivoting around. Almost one. He had to be back for a meeting at one-thirty. They hadn't finished up all her house questions; he'd had no chance to tell her what had happened with John Henry at work. He had a whole lot more to say about her dad situation, and she probably wanted to know more about the party arrangements on Sunday. And all that was just life stuff. They hadn't had two seconds to talk about them.

She'd said she'd go to Paris with him. She really, really had. Obstacles or no obstacles, surely they'd get a chance to talk about the one subject that mattered?

Impatiently he answered her front door, only to find the lunkhead, alias Jason, who was close to the last person in the universe Will had the patience for right now. And he could hear Kel on her cell, her voice tone indicating she was dealing with a business call.

It looked like dealing with Jason was on him.

Oh well, Will mused, and stepped outside, meticulously closing the door behind him. As kindly as an old friend, he greeted Jason with, "Hey, I'll bet you had the mother of all headaches last Saturday."

Poor guy winced. '"I did. That's what I was here about. To talk to Kelly."

"She's tied up. We're both about to head back to work." Jason didn't look like such a hothead by bright sun in the middle of the day. He looked more like, well, just a decent guy. Buttoned down, for sure, but nothing really wrong with him except that Will noted the fresh haircut, the crisp look of a new shirt. That wasn't for a Wednesday workday. The dude was spiffed up for Kelly.

Not gonna happen.

Jason seemed to finally realize something along that line too. because he said gruffly, "I guess I owe an apology to you, too."

"No problem at all," Will said genially. "I'm glad we met. I know we'll run into each other again. Your family's important to Kelly. You both share a lot of friends."

"We do."

Jason stood there, as if wanting to push for another chance to see Kelly, but eventually he started shifting his feet. When Will failed to offer more conversation, he scratched the back of his neck, checked a button on his shirt. Finally, he worked up the guts for a blunter approach and said straight out. "Are you and Kelly…" but then couldn't seem to finish the question.

"Yes." Will said, which covered the complete answer as far as he was concerned.

"She'll always be my first girl," Jason said, with the same note of beer-courage stubbornness he'd tried out on Saturday.

"I know she will. And it's a good memory for her, hope it is for you. But she'll be my last girl, and I like my place in that line." Will didn't make it sound like a challenge or a warning. He just stated it like the eternal, irrevocable, irrefutable, undeniable fact that it was.

"Yeah, I get that feeling." Jason's voice was barely audible. "Well, tell Kelly-"

"I will. She'll be relieved you were okay after Saturday."

"I don't want her thinking that I wanted to make a scene," Jason said.

The hell he didn't. But Will, because he was practicing restraint brilliantly at that moment, didn't push. "Hey, it's okay," he said magnanimously.

A moment later, the front door opened with Kelly looking bewildered, as if she'd been searching all over for him and couldn't imagine where he was. Jason was pulling out of the driveway and Will was waving goodbye to him.

Kelly took one look and started giving him that foot-tapping, hand-on-hip type of posture.

"What?" he said. "I was totally, one hundred percent nice! You can ask him!"

She said nothing.

"I mean it, Kel, it's obvious he's a decent guy. He was embarrassed about Saturday. I tried to make him feel better."

Kelly murmured. "In a pig's eye." But she kissed him. He'd been good as gold, maybe better, and yet he somehow got a kiss when he lied to her? And it was a good kiss.

When she leaned back and opened her eyes, she was smiling, their pelvises still glued together. "Why would I bet a week's salary that he won't be back?"

"I have no idea. Since I was so nice to him. But I do think it's conceivable that this is the last time he's going to try seeing you alone the way he did today." He added. "That's just a guess, of course. I have no basis whatsoever to think that, really. I just-"

"We're on a front porch in the middle of a busy neighborhood, so quit being so damned cute. I can't seduce you here. And we both have to be back at work besides."

"I was being cute, huh?"

"When you're not being a male chauvinist egomaniac, you can be a little cute." she qualified.

"And you were thinking about seducing me, huh? Right out here in the open?"

"Would you quit sounding so delighted?" But just then, one of the workers yanked open the door with a question, effectively interrupting them as nothing else could have.

KELLY THOUGHT later that she should have known she was inviting trouble. It was the same-old, same-old with Will. They had fifty million things conspiring to keep them apart. His dad. Her dad. Both of their nosy, interfering families. In her case, an insane work schedule, complicated by trying to live in a house with a half dozen construction projects going on. And in Will's case, being swallowed by the magnitude of handling his father's business.

But somehow, when they managed even a few minutes together, they seemed to have fun anyway. They seemed to feel fierce, wild, wonderful desire anyway. They seemed to laugh anyway.

So it was extra frightening, when she heard stones hitting her window at four o'clock on Friday morning, that she wasn't even thrown. All right. She was a little thrown. Bleary-eyed, she crawled out of bed, grabbed her cell phone, punched in 9-1-1 and then peeked out the corner of the window to see what was going on.

And there was Will, standing in the dew-soaked grass. He was wearing a suit, as far as she could see in the dark-a serious going-to-work suit. And grinning up at her like a hyena.

She threw open the sash-no easy thing to do on the old windows in the upstairs bedroom-and leaned out. "You're mad. Stark raving mad. And I'm having you committed." First, though, she clicked off her phone.

"Can you come down and play?"

"Of course not. It's Friday morning. I get two more hours of sleep before I have to get up and work all day. Do you have anything against rest? Sleep?"

'This is important. And it includes breakfast."

She sighed. '"Give me five." She closed the window and got in gear-splashing water on her face, brushing her teeth, throwing on gray slacks and a pale blue top, hardly a great work or play outfit, but who could think at four in the morning? She was lucky she remembered shoes, and was still brushing her hair when she jogged outside.

"I don't talk this early, and for damn sure. I shouldn't be expected to be nice," she warned him.

"I understand."

"You'd better have a good reason for this."

"I understand."

"And I haven't even put on makeup, so don't be looking at me."

"Yes, ma'am. I won't look." He added hastily. "Although you don't need makeup to enhance your extraordinary beauty, anyway."

"I'm not receptive to malarkey this early in the morning, either."

He made the childish gesture of zipping his lips, making her want to laugh, but she didn't. She held on to her cranky mood for at least four more minutes. Maybe five.

"What in God's name are you up to?" she demanded when he pulled up to the Notre Dame football stadium. A light rain had started up. which made the golden dome glisten bright and magical.

Will looked up at the rain, though, and muttered. "Hell. This may not work out quite as planned."

"In case no one ever mentioned this to you, the stadium's locked. You can't just walk in there at all hours."

But somehow or other-Will wouldn't admit how, which made Kelly fret that the means might not be kosher-he produced a key. By the time he was maneuvering the lock, he was also carting a monster-sized box and an umbrella. Naturally she grabbed the umbrella. It was obvious he couldn't juggle everything at once.

"Okay," he said. "This was the plan. Remember when we were on the boat, and you wanted to seduce me in broad daylight?"

"It wasn't quite like that," she defended.

"Close enough. And because I thought it was such an excellent idea. I thought I should enable you. I mean, if you want to get into this sin and fantasy thing, you should have a willing accomplice. It's the guy's job in a relationship to help the woman achieve her dreams. My sisters read that to me from a woman's magazine, so I know it must be true." In the middle of that nonsense, he suddenly sighed and turned serious. "Only damn, Kel. The forecast was for overcast skies, not rain."

The stadium was…well, all theirs. The only times she'd been inside, the place had been packed for football games. The inner corridor was ghostly cool and dim, and once Will led her out to the stands-to the fifty-yard line, to be precise-the wide empty space seemed to hold all the echoes of exuberant yelling and happy screams and devoted fans. Will, however, looked more and more distraught.

"I checked the forecast an hour ago, and it was supposed to be cloudy this morning. Just cloudy. No rain. No rain. You know what?"

"What?"

"Maguire's has a box. But I didn't bring that key because I didn't think we'd need it. The whole point was to be out in the open air."

Holy smokes times ten. While she held up the umbrella, he opened the massive box he'd been carting around. First he withdrew a navy-and-gold blanket, then French crepes packed in a heated container. Out came more treasures. A carafe of French coffee with gold-rimmed demitasses. A blue-and-gold flag. Sterling forks and white linen napkins. A vase with blue and gold carnations. The water had spilled out. but the flowers were still fresh, and certainly happy enough to sit in the rain.

She looked at Will as he withdrew all this stuff, all these details that he'd planned for her. the whole Notre Dame theme, all the French foods, all the elegant little touches…and felt her heart melt like chocolate in heat.

The rain sluiced down harder, no longer light, but she'd been inside, the place had been packed for football games. The inner corridor was ghostly cool and dim, and once Will led her out to the stands-to the fifty-yard line, to be precise-the wide empty space seemed to hold all the echoes of exuberant yelling and happy screams and devoted fans. Will, however, looked more and more distraught.

"I checked the forecast an hour ago, and it was supposed to be cloudy this morning. Just cloudy. No rain. No rain. You know what?"

"What?"

"Maguire's has a box. But I didn't bring that key because I didn't think we'd need it. The whole point was to be out in the open air."

Holy smokes times ten. While she held up the umbrella, he opened the massive box he'd been carting around. First he withdrew a navy-and-gold blanket, then French crepes packed in a heated container. Out came more treasures. A carafe of French coffee with gold-rimmed demitasses. A blue-and-gold flag. Sterling forks and white linen napkins. A vase with blue and gold carnations. The water had spilled out. but the flowers were still fresh, and certainly happy enough to sit in the rain.

She looked at Will as he withdrew all this stuff, all these details that he'd planned for her. the whole Notre Dame theme, all the French foods, all the elegant little touches…and felt her heart melt like chocolate in heat.

The rain sluiced down harder, no longer light, but pelting in a harsh, beating assault. The umbrella covered some parts of their bodies. Not all. Will looked more and more miserable, and Kelly kept thinking that she needed to say something to make him feel better, but her throat felt so thick, so full of emotion that she couldn't seem to say anything at all.

Will seemed to interpret her silence as agreeing with his responsibility for this major screwup. "Okay, okay. I admit the plan was flawed and on the impulsive side. But neither of us can seem to scare up an ounce of free time-at least not for each other. I know we're seeing each other Sunday, but that's about my mom's birthday, it's not us time. And yeah, I admit I thought you'd get a charge out of having breakfast at Notre Dame. And I wanted you to remember Paris. I wanted a chance for both of us to be like Paris again, even if we could only catch an hour before real life-"

He looked up, as if hoping she'd interrupt him. She didn't.

He started again. "I guess the chances of your seducing me on the fifty-yard line are pretty slim, huh? On the other hand, it's a thought that'll hold. There'll be other chances. There could be some terrific warm morning sometime next week. You could just forget that this particular morning turned into a complete and total fiasco."

"Will?"

His shoulders relaxed. She was willing to speak to him.

"I love you," she said, softer than a whisper.

His grin started to show up again. Just a rise of the corners of his mouth, but it was coming back.

"If you want to make love, right now, in the pouring rain-it's okay by me."

There now. His eyes brightened right up.

"But it looks as if a maintenance guy just showed up. At the top of the stairs? So it'd seem to be kind of iffy to pull that off right at this minute."

Will's head shot toward the uniformed man-then two men-and he swore. "They're not supposed to be here until seven. Could anything more go wrong this morning?"

"Well," she said as she finished the last crepe and rather hastily started gathering their gear together. "We could get arrested. That'd be pretty awkward. But I have to tell you this."

"What?" he demanded, shooting to his feet as he saw the two maintenance men had suddenly noticed them and were walking in their direction.

But she didn't tell him her thought-they had to move too quickly to get everything together, to peel out of there, hopefully without the maintenance men calling the cops on them, hopefully without both of them getting completely soaked in the downpour.

They reached his car, gasping for breath, both of them hopelessly laughing. Will didn't want to. but even he had to give in to the humor of the situation. And that was the first time she had a chance to say what she'd wanted to earlier.

She kissed him in the damp car, on the cheek, both of them shivering like crazy. "You're going to do it, aren't you?"

"What?"

"You're going to find a way for us to be together. Because your dad's going to be well soon. And that means you'll need to be making decisions about what you want to do."

"I know what I want. I want you with me, Kel. That's all that matters. The rest of it-I just don't care."

"Oh, yes you do," she whispered. "You care terribly, Will Maguire." And she felt her heart thud like a dropped ball bearing. It had taken her all this time to figure out what she needed and wanted in her life-who she was, and who she wasn't.

She was the one who had started out confused.

But it was Will, she understood now, who didn't know himself. And she couldn't make an overwhelming life choice for him.

No one could live a fantasy forever.