Lost in His Arms Page 8

  “How do you do,” he replied. “I’m looking forward to working with your son. Mr. McCarthy has told me he’s a great kid.”

  Elizabeth flashed a quick smile at Talbot, then looked back at Todd. “He is a great kid, and I’m sure the two of you will work very well together.”

  “I’m ready to get started whenever he is,” Todd said.

  “I thought I’d let them work in here where they won’t be disturbed,” Talbot explained.

  Elizabeth frowned. “But what about your work?”

  “I don’t plan on doing a lot over the next couple of weeks. If problems arise at the company, I have responsible men in charge who will call me.”

  Elizabeth nodded, oddly disturbed by the knowledge that he didn’t intend to work during the time she and Andrew were in the house. Somehow this knowledge made Richard’s condition more frighteningly real than it already was.

  “I’ll go find Andrew so you can get started,” she said to Todd, then turned and left the office.

  It had been almost easy to look on this time in the McCarthy household as a vacation of sorts. But Talbot never took vacations. He’d always been obsessed about the family business and controlling his life with precise efficiency. He rarely took time off for anything or anyone.

  It wasn’t until Andrew was in the office with Todd that Elizabeth and Richard left to drive into town for groceries.

  “Thanks, Elizabeth,” Richard said as they pulled away from the house.

  “Thanks for what?” she asked.

  “For letting this happen. For coming here and letting me spend extra time with Andrew.” He stared out the passenger window for a long moment. “I want— I need to make memories for him…just in case something goes wrong.”

  “Nothing is going to go wrong,” Elizabeth said firmly. “I refuse to consider any other outcome.”

  Richard laughed, and she cast him a quick glance.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Me, you. When we were married, one of the things that drove me crazy about you was your strength. I always got the feeling that you were fine if I was there, and just as fine if I wasn’t. You always had things under control, no matter how much chaos I brought into our house.”

  Elizabeth didn’t know how to reply, wasn’t sure what he expected her to say. In any case, he gave her no opportunity to reply, but instead, continued. “Your strength, which I couldn’t handle in our marriage, is now what I need from you. I need you to believe that everything is going to be okay, and I need you to make me believe that, too.”

  “You know I’ll do whatever I can to help you get through this, Richard,” she promised.

  She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. He had no idea just how strong she would have to be in order to put aside the craziness she felt when she was around Talbot. It was a craziness of wanting Talbot to kiss her again, then utter madness of wanting Talbot to kiss her again, the utter madness of wanting Talbot to hold her not just for a minute, not just for an hour, but through the rest of the nights left to her on earth.

  A pizza bake-off. He must have been out of his mind to agree to such a thing. Talbot stood in his office peering out the window where Richard and Andrew were playing catch. He knew Elizabeth was upstairs, waiting for the contest that would take place in a little while.

  As he stared at his brother, his mind flashed over the years that he’d tried to be a parent to him. There had been a lot of laughter in those years—and a lot of tears.

  Richard had been more than a handful, and Talbot had spent many a sleepless night wondering if he was doing too much or too little to guide his brother through adolescence and into well-adjusted, responsible adulthood.

  Richard had never been a particularly demonstrative child, not given to easy displays of affection. But as Talbot watched his brother and his nephew play catch, he noticed how often Richard breached the distance between them and give his son a clap on the shoulder or a quick hug. It was as if Richard was trying to store up a lifetime of touches and hugs in case something went wrong during the surgery.

  He’d noticed during the infrequent visits with Elizabeth and Richard during their marriage that the two of them rarely touched. He’d never seen his brother plant an absent kiss on Elizabeth’s forehead, stroke her back unconsciously or take her hand while they walked.

  Talbot would find it impossible not to be a toucher with Elizabeth. If she belonged to him, he’d want to touch her silky hair every chance he got, run his fingers down her smooth cheek, put his arm around her slender shoulders.

  But she doesn’t belong to you, a small voice reminded him. She belongs to Richard. Family ties still bind her to him and will forever make her off-limits.

  He turned away from the window as Richard and Andrew finished playing catch and ran toward the house. The loneliness that had plagued Talbot in the past several years hit him square in the heart. He sank down behind his desk and leaned back in the chair.

  Surely the feelings he was experiencing for Elizabeth had to do with the fact that he’d been without a woman in his life for a very long time. Before Richard’s surprising marriage to Elizabeth, there hadn’t been time for Talbot to maintain any sort of relationship with a woman. Richard and the business had sucked him dry every minute of every day.

  After Richard had married and moved into town with Elizabeth, Talbot had dated off and on, though he’d never found a woman with whom he could imagine spending the rest of his life.

  Casual movie dates, occasional dinners, a variety of women passing in and out of his life, but nobody who had touched him profoundly. Nobody who had managed to ease the loneliness that had become his constant companion.

  Of course he would have strong feelings for Elizabeth. She was beautiful and sexy and here in his home, here where he smelled her sweet fragrance in every room, felt her very presence. But for all he knew, he’d be having these same feelings for any woman who was temporarily staying in his house.

  This thought made him feel better.

  “Uncle Talbot?” Andrew called through the office door. “It’s time to make pizza.”

  “Okay, I’m coming,” Talbot replied. He stood and steeled himself for the night to come, a night that he knew would be filled with laughter, family, fun—and Elizabeth.

  “Mom!” Andrew hollered up the stairs. “Come on.”

  Elizabeth and Talbot met at the kitchen door, where Andrew stood as sentry. “Welcome to McCarthy Pizzeria,” Andrew said with a studied soberness that the dancing light in his eyes belied. He led them through the doorway.

  The kitchen had been transformed. A red-and-white checkered cloth covered the surface of the table, and a candle burned brightly in its perch atop an empty wine bottle. Soft music played in the background, and Talbot recognized Dean Martin singing something in Italian.

  “I will show you to your table, Madam Judge,” Andrew said, offering her his arm in gentlemanly fashion.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ve heard that the pizza here is world-renowned.” It was obvious she intended to throw herself fully into her son’s game.

  Suddenly that was what Talbot wanted, as well. A night of laughter, of fun, with no thoughts of the past, no worries about the future.

  He grabbed Rose’s apron from the hook next to the stove and wrapped it around him with a flourish. “And of course, I am the master chef of this establishment.” He flicked his fingers toward Andrew and Richard. “And these are my rather dull students attempting, in vain of course, to best me at my specialty.”

  Richard hooted his derision and Andrew giggled. “We will see who is the true master when the contest is over. Let the baking begin.”

  Elizabeth had shopped to make the contest as even as possible. At their separate workspaces on the countertop, each had a package of pizza-crust mix, a large jar of sauce and a dozen toppings to use at his discretion. They were allowed to use any spices in the cabinet, and they each had a pizza stone to prepare their creation on.

  Talbo
t was acutely aware of Elizabeth seated at the table, sipping a glass of red wine. Clad in a pair of rust-colored slacks and a blouse to match, she looked like a beautiful autumn leaf blown into the kitchen. He frowned, pulling his gaze from her and to the work at hand.

  “Hey, Andrew, did you know that a crushed, flat box can sail over tall grass as fast as a sled can slide over snow?” Richard asked.

  “Really?”

  Richard nodded. “When we lived in Twin Oaks, your uncle Talbot and his buddies used to race down a big hill on crushed boxes. Remember that, Talbot?”

  Talbot grinned as he covered his ball of crust to allow it to rise for a few minutes. He turned around and smiled at his brother. “I remember. And if I recall, you insisted on trying it even though we all told you that you were too young.”

  “And what happened?” Andrew asked.

  “Your dad took off like a kite in the wind, flying down the hill. Unfortunately he forgot one little thing.”

  “What?” Andrew asked eagerly.

  “I forgot to watch where I was going,” Richard replied. “I flew right off that hill and into a pond. I sank to the bottom like my rear end was filled with stones. Your Uncle Talbot had to jump in and save me.”

  “And then I got grounded when we got home, because Richard told Mom and Dad I tried to drown him in the pond,” Talbot added.

  Richard laughed. “That’s true. As Talbot pulled me out of the water, he called me a pain-in-the-butt twerp, and that made me so mad I got him into trouble.”

  This story invoked another, and another, and as they worked, the kitchen filled with laughter and the warmth of family.

  Talbot tried to keep his gaze from Elizabeth, but it was impossible. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he was drawn again and again to the laughter in her eyes, the obvious pleasure that lit her features as the stories grew wilder and crazier.

  By the time the pizzas were all in the oven, the kitchen looked like a battle zone. Flour splattered every surface, and sauce speckled the top of the stove. Bits of mushrooms, shredded cheese, slices of pepperoni and onion littered the floor, transforming the plain white tile into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.

  “Rose is going to kill us all,” Elizabeth said, then took a sip of her second glass of wine. Talbot didn’t know if it was the wine or the laughter that filled her cheeks with blossoms of color. In any case it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she looked lovelier than he’d ever seen her.

  “It’s a good thing I gave her the night off. She’d go crazy if she saw this mess,” he said.

  “Hey, it takes a mess to create masterpieces, right, buddy?” Richard ruffled Andrew’s hair affectionately.

  “How long does it take to bake? I’m starving,” Andrew said, then picked a piece of pepperoni off the countertop and popped it into his mouth.

  Talbot opened the oven door and peered inside. “Just a couple more minutes and they should be ready.”

  “If I don’t eat in a few minutes, I’m going to be tipsy,” Elizabeth said, and pushed her wineglass aside. “And if I have the awesome responsibility of judging this contest, I have to have my wits about me.”

  “You won’t need your wits to know that mine is the undisputed best,” Richard said, gaining catcalls and boos from his brother and nephew.

  Talbot couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed an evening more. They had all cut up and acted silly. And the warmth and positive feeling continued as they ate.

  “I’m not making any final decision until I’ve eaten all I want of each pie,” Elizabeth announced as she started on the first piece.

  They sat around the table, everyone sampling not only the pizza they had baked, but the others, as well. And as they ate, the pleasant talk continued.

  “Mrs. Walker in the grocery store said to tell you hi,” she said to Talbot. “And that her daughter, Alva May, just got engaged.”

  Talbot winced. “I dated Alva a couple of times, and I think her mother had already printed up wedding announcements for us.”

  “Why didn’t you marry her, Uncle Talbot?” Andrew asked.

  Talbot leaned toward the young boy and grinned. “Because she had hairy legs and smelled like a burning tire.”

  Andrew snorted soda pop and spewed pizza. Elizabeth burst into peals of laughter, and Richard joined in with his own chuckles.

  Talbot continued, “You see, Alva is a mechanic down at Walker’s Garage. She’s twice my size, and she didn’t really love me at all. She just wanted to replace the shocks in my car.”

  “You’re terrible!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  He held out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “So shoot me. I don’t like hairy legs and the smell of burnt rubber.”

  He was grateful when nobody pursued the topic and asked him what he did like in a woman. He would have had to answer that he liked a woman who had hair the color of butterscotch pudding and eyes as bright blue as gift-wrapping ribbon.

  He liked a woman who smelled as fresh as spring rain, as sweet as a summer flower. He even found endearing the tiny dab of sauce that decorated her slightly pointed chin.

  “Mom, are you ready to make a decision yet?” Andrew asked anxiously.

  Elizabeth smiled and dabbed her face with her napkin, removing all trace of sauce from her chin. “Yes, I think I’m just about ready to announce the winner.”

  “Before you do, Mom, I want to tell you something.” Andrew got up out of his chair and moved to his mother’s side. He slid an arm around her neck. “I just wanted to tell you you’re the best mom in the whole wide world.”

  “Hey, no fair buttering up the judge,” Talbot protested with a laugh.

  “Who, me?” Andrew batted his lashes in innocence. “I just wanted her to know that I love her more than anything.”

  “If anyone is going to be successful buttering up the judge, it’s going to be me,” Richard interjected. “After all, I’m the one who might not be here in a couple of weeks.”

  Elizabeth gasped, and whatever frivolity had been in Talbot’s heart blew to shreds beneath the weight of Richard’s words.

  A roar resounded in his ears—the roar of fear unexplored, of unrealistic rage, of guilt unnamed and of promises unkept.

  He stumbled to his feet, wanting, needing to get out, away, before he lost control. As he left the kitchen, he vaguely heard Andrew admonish his father. “Jeez, Dad.”

  “It was just a joke,” Richard said softly.

  But the problem, Talbot thought, was that it wasn’t a joke. It was a possibility, a distinct possibility he’d refused to face until this very moment.

  He raced for his bedroom, needing the familiarity, the privacy of that room, because he knew that for the first time in his life, he was about to lose control.

  Chapter Seven

  Richard looked at Elizabeth helplessly as Talbot strode out of the room. He was like a contrite young boy who had done something wrong and now needed guidance on how to fix it. “I’m sorry. That was incredibly stupid. I just wasn’t thinking,” he finally said.

  “Maybe you should go to him,” Elizabeth suggested, a vision of Talbot’s face frozen in her mind. “He looked pretty upset.”

  Richard appeared terrified at the very idea. “Nah. When Talbot’s upset, he always wants some time alone. It’s better to let him work it out himself.”

  “Maybe you and me should go to that movie we were gonna see,” Andrew said to his father.

  Richard’s face lit up. “That’s a great idea. And by the time we get back, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  Before Elizabeth knew it, she found herself alone in the silence and the mess of the kitchen. She sank down at the table and poured herself another glass of wine.

  She took a sip and shook her head, marveling in the wake of the chaos Richard had left behind. It felt far too familiar and reminded her of all the reasons their marriage hadn’t worked.

  Richard had always meant well, but he’d lacked the maturity to form a real comm
itment to their marriage, a true bond with her. He’d preferred hanging out with his friends, shooting pool and drinking beer. He’d often spoke thoughtlessly, never intending to be hurtful, but succeeding just the same.

  She knew he hadn’t meant any harm with his remark, that it had simply flown from his lips without first circulating through his brain, but she couldn’t get the vision of Talbot out of her head.

  When Richard had spoken those words, all color had fled from Talbot’s face, and the look in his eyes had painfully pierced her heart.

  The man she had always seen as vital and strong, as powerful and in control, had suddenly appeared filled with despair and anguish.

  He’s an adult, she told herself. He’s a grown man. Let him handle this the way he’s handled everything else in his life—alone. She took another deep swallow of her wine.

  She knew all about alone. From the time her parents died when she’d been a young child, she’d been alone. She knew now her marriage to Richard had been an attempt to assuage the deep loneliness that assailed her, but being married to Richard had made her feel more alone than ever.

  Swallowing the last of her wine, she girded herself for the task of cleaning up the incredible mess the three males had made. But thoughts of Talbot made concentrating on anything else impossible.

  Did he handle things alone because he wanted to, or because he had no other option? Did he need somebody to talk to? Somebody to share the emotions that must surely be whirling inside him?

  Knowing it was the wrong thing to do, but utterly helpless to do anything else, she went in search of him. He wasn’t in his office, nor was he in any of the rooms on the ground level of the house.

  She climbed the stairs quickly, knowing if she paused to think twice, she’d retrace her footsteps and run back to the kitchen. She had no idea what she intended to say to him once she found him. She only knew she couldn’t stand the thought of him alone and in pain.

  She found him in his bedroom, standing at the window, almost hidden by the evening shadows that had usurped much of the light of the room. Had his door been closed, she would have never breached his privacy, but the door stood wide open, an unspoken invitation for her to enter.