Make-Believe Mistletoe

Chapter Thirteen

Banner had never been a late sleeper. He woke with the sunrise the next morning-the last day of the year. Propped on one elbow, he spent several long minutes enjoying the novelty of watching Lucy sleep.

She slept the way she did everything else, he mused. Enthusiastically.

Her red-gold hair lay in a heavy mass on the pillow, tangled by the burrowing movements she made in her sleep. Long eyelashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks as she dreamed.

He wondered if he played a role in those dreams.

With a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a growl, he rolled out of the bed, careful not to wake her. He needed a shower. And he had better make it a cold one.

Dressed in jeans and an untucked blue-plaid flannel shirt, he was in the kitchen twenty minutes later when someone pounded on the door. Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was barely 8:00 a.m. Way earlier than Polston usually dropped by, though he couldn't imagine who else it might be.

He opened his front door to find a younger version of himself standing on the front porch.

“Tim? What the hell?”

Tim Banner nodded past his half brother's shoulder. “You going to invite me in?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Banner stepped out of the way, allowing the younger man to enter. He checked to make sure no other family members were lurking outside before he closed the door, but apparently Tim had come alone.

Tim stopped in the middle of the living room, shoving his hands in his pockets. Already curled on his favorite rug, Banner's dog lifted his head, glanced at Tim, sniffed the air for a moment, then dropped his head down on his paws and went back to sleep.

Banner studied the younger brother he still thought of as a boy, though Tim had recently turned twenty-two. Tim's conservatively cut, usually neat hair was tousled, he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in a while. He wore faded jeans, a wrinkled cotton shirt unbuttoned over an equally wrinkled T-shirt, and grubby sneakers. No coat. His cheeks were red from the frigid morning air.

It didn't take a particularly perceptive observer to figure out that something was wrong. “What's up?”

“Maybe I just dropped in for a visit.”

And if Banner believed that, Tim would probably try to sell him some oceanfront property while he was here. But before he could express his skepticism, Tim jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Do I smell coffee?”

“Yeah.” Resigned to playing host until his brother decided to reveal the reason behind his unexpected appearance, Banner headed for the door opening. “C'mon. We'll both have some.”

Following Banner into the kitchen, Tim looked at the counter. “You were about to have breakfast?”

“Pancakes. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Hungry?”

Tim sounded almost surprised when he replied, “Yeah. I am.”

Setting a mug of coffee on the table, Banner said, “Sit. I'll get the pancakes started.”

Tim sat in silence while Banner put slices of bacon in a skillet, then poured pancake batter onto the griddle. Maybe the boy would be more talkative on a full stomach, he figured. “Want some orange juice to go with that coffee?”

“I'll get it.”

“Glasses are in that cabinet, juice in the fridge. I'll have some, too.”

“Make that three,” Lucy said as she entered the kitchen.

She had showered, Banner noted. Her hair, which she had pulled back with a barrette, was still damp. If she wore any makeup, it was minimal-not that she needed any, he thought, studying her porcelain-fair skin. Her chocolate-brown sweater fit snugly over her slender curves, ending at the band of her hip-riding jeans. Had Tim not been standing there watching them with such startled curiosity, Banner would have demonstrated for her how delectable she looked this morning.

It seemed as if there was almost always someone else around when he wanted to be alone with Lucy, he mused.

Funny, for a guy who had spent so much time alone during the past few years, he'd sure had a lot of company lately.

His life hadn't really changed the day Lucy knocked on his door, he assured himself. Not permanently, anyway. It only seemed that way at the moment. He couldn't help wondering how long it would take him to be content with his solitude again after everything went back to the way it had been.

Without pausing for introductions, Lucy gave the stranger in Banner's kitchen one of her warm smiles. “I'm Lucy Guerin. And you must be Tim.”

Both Tim and Banner looked surprised by the instant identification. “How did you know that?” Tim asked.

She laughed, studying his young, handsome, undeniably familiar face. “Are you kidding? The two of you look so much alike, anyone could see that you're brothers.”

Tim looked speculatively from Banner to Lucy. “So Rick's told you about me?”

Though she found the nickname a bit disconcerting, she didn't let it show. “Yes, he has. It's very nice to meet you.”

“You, too-even though Rick's never mentioned you,” Tim added with a sideways look at his brother.

“I'm sort of new around here,” Lucy replied lightly, moving to the coffeemaker. She would let Banner explain their relationship-whatever it was-if he chose to do so.

But Banner said nothing as he set the crisp bacon to drain on a platter covered with paper towels, stacked the first batch of pancakes on a plate and poured more batter onto the griddle. Tim carried three glasses of orange juice to the table, then stood somewhat self-consciously beside his chair until Lucy urged him to sit.

Ten minutes later they all sat at the table with their breakfasts. Following the smell of bacon, Hulk joined them, sitting hopefully beside Banner's chair. Banner slipped the dog a piece of the crisp meat, then said, “That's it, dog. You get the rest of your breakfast later.”

Hulk sighed in resignation. Licking his lips to get the last taste of the treat, he ambled out of the room to return to his rug, leaving his owner scowling down at his plate as though wondering what to say next.

Not surprisingly, it seemed to be up to Lucy to start a conversation. Figuring that Banner would join in if she got things rolling, she smiled encouragingly at Tim. “Your brother told me you're in law school. How's everything going?”

Tim swallowed a big bite of syrup-covered pancakes, then reached hastily for his orange juice to wash it down before speaking. “I, uh, quit law school. I'm not going back for the next semester.”

That certainly took Banner's attention away from his breakfast. “You did what?”

Tim's expression took on a grimly stubborn quality that made him look even more like his older brother. “I quit.”

“Why?”

“Because I hated it.”

Lucy glanced at Banner, who was studying Tim with a quizzical expression that told her he was trying very hard to figure the younger man out. “I guess you've told the rest of the family?” he asked.

Tim's jaw muscle clenched. “Yeah.”

“How did that go?”

“Dad threw me out of his house.”

The stark words made Lucy set her fork down, her appetite gone, even though half her breakfast remained on her plate. Banner and Tim seemed to feel much the same way, since neither of them was eating. Banner took a sip of his coffee, but Lucy thought he did so mostly to give himself time to think of what to say.

She felt compelled to try to fill the tense silence. “I'm sure your father is simply disappointed,” she offered. “He'll come around.”

Tim turned to look at her, his navy eyes almost black with emotion. “Rick hasn't told you much about our father, has he?”

“A little. I know he has high expectations for you and your sister.”

With a little snort, Tim shook his head. “My father has had our lives mapped out since Brenda and I were toddlers. He chose our friends, our hobbies, our colleges. After that he gave us two choices-medical school or law school. Brenda seems to be content enough with medicine, but I've always known that wasn't for me. I thought I could learn to like the law, but it's just not going to happen. There's no need for me to waste any more of my life trying.”

“You graduated cum laude from the university,” Banner reminded his brother. “You were accepted into some of the most prestigious law schools in the country. Why on earth would you want to throw that away?”

Tim's eyes narrowed. “I would have thought that you, of all people, would understand.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“You've never let Dad run your life. You do exactly what you want, when you want. You always have.”

Banner shook his head. “My situation is different.”

“Only because you didn't live with him full-time. I know he tried to talk you into going to college, maybe following him into business, but you wouldn't let him control your choices. From now on, neither will I.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don't know, exactly. I've never really had the chance to explore my options. I'll probably spend the next year or so doing that.”

“You couldn't do that while you're finishing law school? At least you wouldn't be burning any bridges that way.”

Tim seemed genuinely surprised by Banner's reaction to his announcement. “I can't believe this. You sound just like Dad.”

Lucy watched as a tinge of red stained Banner's cheeks in response to the unwelcome comparison. Temper sharpened his reply. “I'm not trying to control your life. Hell, I don't care what you do. But I assumed you wanted my opinion. Why else would you show up here this morning?”

“You know, that's a good question,” Tim snapped, pushing his plate away and rising. “I don't know why I thought you would understand-or care. Maybe I thought for just once in my life I could count on my brother to be on my side.”

Lucy gave Banner a look of exasperation when Tim turned to storm out of the room. “Aren't you going to stop him?”

“I can't make him stay,” Banner replied.

Because she knew him well enough to understand he meant that he didn't know how to talk Tim into staying, she sighed and set her napkin on the table. “I'll talk to him.”

Banner nodded and began to clear away the breakfast dishes.

Lucy caught up with Tim just as he reached the front door. “Tim, wait.”

“Why?”

“Because your brother doesn't really want you to leave,” she assured him.

His short laugh held no humor. “He doesn't care. You just heard him say so.”

“He said he doesn't care what career choice you make. That's a lot different from not caring about you.”

“If he doesn't care about my career, why did he sound like Dad with that 'throwing it all away' comment?”

“Maybe because he does care about you,” she replied gently. “Didn't you hear how proud he sounded when he talked about how well you've done in school? With your brother it's sometimes necessary to read between the lines, because it's hard for him to say how he really feels.”

“And you're his interpreter now?”

She hesitated. “I, um…”

Tim sighed and shook his head. “I'm sorry, Lucy. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just…well…”

She smiled and rested a hand on his arm. “Banner could try the patience of a saint. I understand.”

He looked at her hand, then up at her face. “Just how long have you known my brother?”

“Less than a week,” she admitted after only a momentary pause. “But I think I've gotten to know him fairly well during that time.”

Tim's mouth twisted. “I've known him all my life, and he's pretty much a stranger to me.”

And that, Lucy realized, was a painful admission for Tim. He had a big brother he barely knew, a brother he had tried to turn to in a difficult time, and it hurt him that he hadn't been able to make that connection. And because she was starting to understand Banner-or at least she wanted to believe that she was beginning to figure him out-she suspected he was in the kitchen right now berating himself for not knowing how to meet Tim halfway.

This family needed help, and there was no better time to start than the present, she decided. While it was true that she was no expert in family relationships, she was the only one here at the moment to give it a shot. Tightening her fingers on Tim's arm, she gave a slight tug. “Come on. We're going back in there to talk to your brother.”

Tim shook his head. “It wouldn't do any good. You heard us in there. We barely speak the same language.”

“Then what you need is a translator. And I happen to speak a little Banner. Come on.”

Tim resisted for a moment, making her give him one of the looks she usually reserved for class disrupters. “Don't make me pick you up and carry you in there.”

That drew a reluctant laugh from him. Though an inch or so shorter than Banner, Tim still pretty much towered over Lucy. “Why do I get the feeling that you might try that?”

“Because I would,” she told him cheerfully. “So you might as well come willingly.”

Lucy and Tim had just taken a step toward the kitchen when Banner entered the living room. He looked first at Lucy, who still had her hand on Tim's arm. “What do you want me to do?”

“You could try listening,” she replied. “Maybe Tim would like to tell you why he came here today.”

“All right. Let's talk.” Banner sat on one end of the couch and motioned toward the remaining chairs. “Sit.”

“Maybe it would be best if I leave the two of you alone,” Lucy offered, moving toward the bedroom.

“No!” The brothers spoke in perfect unison, both looking a bit panicky at the prospect of being alone together now.

“Please stay,” Tim added, giving her a look that was just short of beseeching.

She was the one who had initiated this, she reminded herself. Nodding, she took a seat on the couch next to Banner. “All right. But feel free to ask me to step out of the room if you decide you want to discuss private family matters.”

Tim responded to that with a short, bitter laugh. “Rick has less interest than you do in family matters.”

“You could be right about that,” Banner snapped. “I've always minded my own business and let the rest of you do the same.”

“Did it ever occur to you that we wanted you to be part of our lives?” Tim retorted.

“And let Dad try to control me the way he does you and Brenda? I'll pass.”

“You would never let that happen. You've never let him push you around.”

Was that a touch of hero worship in Tim's voice? Lucy studied his young face, seeing just a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, though he was obviously trying to emulate his older brother's inscrutable mask. It wasn't hard to imagine him as a young boy, both impressed and intimidated by the older brother he saw so rarely.

Banner shrugged. “By the time he paid enough attention to me to try to control me, I was already old enough to be set in my ways. Nothing I did seemed to please him, so I stopped trying. You, on the other hand, seemed to be exactly what he wanted from a son.”

“I've spent my whole life trying to be…maybe I didn't have your guts to be able to tell him to back off.”

Looking uncomfortable with the comparison, Banner shrugged. “Maybe you had to reach a point where you'd had enough.”

Tim didn't look particularly reassured. “Maybe.”

The two men fell silent, apparently lost in their own glum thoughts about their father.

After several long moments, Lucy decided it was time to get them talking again. “How did your mother and sister react to the news that you're quitting law school?”

Tim shrugged. “Mother had hysterics and went to bed. Brenda told me I was being an idiot, then left to go back to the hospital, which is where she spends all her time, anyway.”

“Brenda really enjoys her work?”

He nodded. “She told me she can't imagine doing anything else with her life. I never felt that way about the law. And I sure never had any interest in medicine-it was all I could do to get through the basic biology classes with grades my father would accept.”

“Then you have to find something that excites you as much as medicine excites your sister,” Lucy told him firmly. “The way your brother loves working with wood.”

Tim threw a quick glance Banner's way, then looked at Lucy again. “What do you do, Lucy?”

“Dr. Guerin is a mathematics professor,” Banner surprised her by saying before she could respond.

“Dr. Guerin?” Tim's eyes widened. “You're a college professor?”

“Yes.” Lucy sighed a little and shook her head. “I really don't know why that seems to stun everyone who hears it.”

“I think Tim is surprised that I have a friend who finished college, much less teaches it,” Banner drawled.

A friend. Lucy stashed that description away to mull over later.

Tim sounded defensive when he said, “I didn't say I was surprised that you have a friend like Lucy. She simply seems too young to have a Ph. D.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.” Lucy smiled at Tim, then gave Banner a look that silently requested he behave himself.

Banner cleared his throat “So, uh, Tim-do you need any money or anything?”

Lucy supposed Banner considered his offer to be a show of supportiveness, even though Tim immediately turned defensive again.

“No,” he said. “I didn't come here for money.”

“Then why did you come?”

Tim rubbed his palms on the legs of his jeans before answering, “Maybe I was hoping to find one person who would tell me I did the right thing.”

Lucy held her breath until Banner finally spoke. “You're sure this is what you want to do?” he asked Tim.

Tim nodded, no trace of uncertainty in his voice when he replied, “I'm positive.”

Banner shrugged. “Then you did the right thing.”

The expression that flashed through Tim's eyes made Lucy's chest ache.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“So what are your plans now? Tonight?” Banner asked.

Pushing a hand through his hair, Tim replied, “I guess I'll find a place to crash tonight, then start looking for a job and an apartment somewhere. Dad's been paying my rent while I've been in school, but that's over. I told him I didn't want him supporting me any longer.”

“That's the only way you're ever going to get out from under his control,” Banner commented.

“I know. I've got some savings stashed away to live on until I find a job. Although I'll have to find one pretty quickly.”

“I'm sure your brother wants you to stay here until you find another place,” Lucy hinted broadly, nudging Banner sharply with her elbow.

“Uh…yeah, sure.” He rubbed his rib cage as he spoke.

Tim's drooping shoulders straightened. “Really? I mean, I was sort of hoping I could bunk here for a day or two, but if you'd rather I didn't…”

He glanced at Lucy as he spoke, making it clear that he worried about having crashed a romantic idyll. It had to have been obvious to him, of course, that Lucy had spent the night here and had just crawled out of Banner's bed when Tim arrived.

“Of course you should stay,” she said firmly. “After all, the closest motel is fifteen miles away. And it's New Year's Eve. We'll have a party.”

Banner frowned. “Does this party involve decorations? Am I going to have to chop down another tree?”

She laughed and leaned over to kiss his cheek, causing him to blush again. She simply loved seeing this ultra-controlled, habitually gruff man rattled enough to flush. He wasn't nearly as stern and detached as he pretended to be, but she knew it was a facade born of self-protection.

She wanted Banner to understand he could be free to be himself with her, without fear of judgment or criticism. Perhaps that simple level of acceptance had been all too lacking in his life.

Tim's life, too, apparently, she thought, glancing at the young man who was studying her so curiously.

“No tree this time,” she promised Banner. “But we must have champagne. Do you have any?”

His mouth twisted. “That's not exactly something I keep on hand.”

Not at all surprised, she nodded and rose. “Then I'm off to do some shopping for party supplies. Is there anything else you need me to pick up while I'm out?”

Banner pushed himself to his feet. “I'll do the shopping. Just make a list of what you need, and I'll-”

“No, I'll go. You stay here with Tim.” Which was, she thought, exactly what he was trying to avoid. “Do you have black-eyed peas to eat tomorrow for good luck in the new year? If not, I'll have to buy some while I'm out-though it might be hard to find them this late. I waited until New Year's Eve last year, and the shelves were almost empty of black-eyed peas.”

“I have them…and a ham hock to season them with,” Banner replied, making it clear he followed at least one local holiday tradition. “But, really, I don't mind making the grocery run.”

She patted his cheek in a breezy manner that made his eyes narrow. “Talk to your brother, Banner,” she murmured in his ear. “He needs your support.”

Because he was a man who clearly knew when to surrender, he nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Giving Tim an encouraging smile, she headed off to find her purse and shoes.

She had champagne to buy.

Banner and Tim were left staring at each other in Lucy's wake, both of them at a loss for words. Knowing Lucy would tell him that it was his place to get the conversation rolling, Banner cleared his throat. “So, uh…”

Maybe he should have had something in mind to say before he started speaking, he thought with a grimace, falling silent again.

Tim took up the effort. “Lucy seems really great. How did you meet her?”

“She was stranded here during the ice storm last week, along with several other travelers.”

“Really?” Tim looked intrigued. “She's been here ever since?”

“No. She left to spend Christmas with her family in Springfield, then came back yesterday. She said she, uh, wanted to get to know me better,” he added, still occasionally amazed that Lucy had actually returned.

“And then I show up.” Looking apologetic, Tim shook his head. “Sorry, dude, it's obvious I'm in the way here. I'll clear out before she gets back.”

“No. She'd have my head if you're gone when she returns. She's all set for a New Year's Eve party-and trust me, when Lucy sets her mind on something, you might as well just nod and ask what she wants you to do.”

Tim's smile was a bit quizzical. “I didn't think you would let anyone boss you around, not even someone as pretty as Lucy.”

“Lucy doesn't boss anyone around. She just sort of guides people into cooperating with her.”

“And you're okay with that?”

Banner shrugged. As much as he admired and desired her, he wasn't blind to Lucy's flaws, just as he was quite sure she was aware of his. Sure, she had a tendency to take charge of things, but he figured he could hold his own with her if it concerned something that particularly mattered to him. He just didn't expect her to hang around long enough for it to become an issue.

Deciding a change of subject was in order, he tried to remember the name of Tim's girlfriend, who he had met at a very stilted and uncomfortable Thanksgiving dinner with his father's family. “So how's…Jessica?”

“Jennifer. She's history.”

Studying Tim's morose expression, Banner asked, “Did you dump the girlfriend along with law school?”

“Actually, she dumped me. She really wanted to marry a lawyer.”

Banner winced. “Uh, sorry.”

“Don't be. It stung a bit, but I couldn't have spent the rest of my life pretending to be something I'm not just to try to keep her happy. And to be honest, it didn't hurt as badly as it probably should have. So maybe she and I weren't right for each other, after all.”

Because Banner could identify all too well with those sentiments, he studied his half brother from a new perspective. Truth be told, he had never paid a lot of attention to Tim.

Banner had been nearly eight when the boy was born, and he had already become aware of the estrangement from his father's family. He still remembered hearing his father bragging about his “boy” and knowing that Richard hadn't been referring to him. Just as he remembered the way his perpetually nervous stepmother had hovered nearby every time Banner had attempted any interaction with baby Tim, as if she feared he would do something to harm the younger boy. As Banner had gotten older, choosing to spend even less time with his father, the rift had grown wider, until he'd hardly known his paternal half siblings.

Banner had thought of Tim as brilliant, social, ambitious, driven-all the adjectives their father valued so highly, which Banner could simply never apply to himself. It had never occurred to Banner that Tim could have more in common with him than with their old man.

Which, he reminded himself, was not necessarily a good thing. He would hate to see young Tim end up living alone, isolated from his family, feeling as if he had failed at every relationship he had attempted. And Tim didn't even seem to have a passion he wanted to pursue, the way Banner had always enjoyed his woodworking.

The extent of his concern about Tim rather surprised him. He wouldn't have expected to care what the kid chose to do with his life.

Because he didn't know how to express his misgivings, he said only, “You can crash here as long as you need a place to stay. But your parents are going to hate it. They'll probably figure out a way to blame me for corrupting you. Accuse me of being a bad influence or something, not that I had anything to do with your choices.”

“Maybe more than you think,” Tim murmured.

Banner was almost relieved when his dog interrupted the conversation before he had to pursue that particular comment. With a big, noisy yawn, the animal rose from his rug, stretched dramatically, then wandered over to Banner. The dog butted the hand that had been resting on Banner's knee, an unsubtle hint that he wanted a head rub.

“No offense,” Tim said, “but that is the ugliest dog I've ever seen.”

“No offense taken. I'm not blind.”

“What breed is he?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Tilting his head a bit, Tim eyed the dog curiously. “I'm figuring there are at least ten breeds involved, maybe a little goat and cow thrown in.”

That made Banner chuckle. “Anything's possible, I guess.”

Tim patted his leg, calling the dog to his side. Reaching out to rub the dog's long, shaggy ears, he asked, “What's his name?”

“Hulk.”

Grinning down at the goofy, good-natured animal, Tim said, “I like him.”

“So do I.”

Their gazes met over the dog's head. Banner looked away first, reaching hastily for the remote control. “We're missing the bowl games. What teams do you like?”

“I'll watch any game that involves a ball and cheerleaders,” Tim replied.

Thumbing on the power button and raising the volume loud enough to preclude any more meaningful dialogue, Banner rose. “We need snacks. I've got cheese puffs, pretzels, popcorn, beer and sodas.”

Tim's attention was already fixed on the screen. “All of the above sounds good.”

Nodding, Banner headed off in search of junk food, relieved that the only conversation required from him for the rest of the afternoon would consist of phrases like “Nice catch” or “Bad call.”