Rebecca hadn’t spoken to Dad since the afternoon she’d hung up on him. She should call him and make amends, she knew that, but she had no desire to do so, and ended up putting the call off in favor of another fabulous weekend, where the subject of Russ Erwin did not come up again. Nor did the campaign. On Saturday, Matt and Rebecca took Grayson to the new Texas History museum, then on to Barton Springs, where Grayson and Matt swam in the cool spring waters while Rebecca lazily read a romance novel (which, she smugly noted, had nothing on the nights she and Matt spent together). Saturday evening, Matt’s sister happily took Grayson until the family meal on Sunday so that Matt and Rebecca could have an evening alone.
Matt was excited about the date he’d planned at an old-fashioned supper club. They dined on sea bass, listened to some great jazz, and crawled home in the early-morning hours. As exhausted as they were, both of them were still anxious to put their hands on each other’s body, and made slow, languid love until they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. And in that unearthly place between wake and sleep, as Matt’s breathing began to deepen, Rebecca smiled, whispered, “This is love . . . I love you, too.” He didn’t speak, just rolled over and wrapped his arm around her.
On Sunday afternoon, while Matt was dozing through a baseball game on TV, Rebecca padded into his office and dialed her father in New York.
“Yeah,” he answered gruffly.
“Dad?”
“Rebecca,” he said quietly. “So you finally decided to pick up the phone and speak to your old man again?”
She closed her eyes, preparing herself. “Yes.”
“Great minds think alike, I guess. I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move and I’ve tried to get you all weekend, but you won’t answer the phone.”
“That’s because Grayson and I have been in Austin. With a friend.”
There was the dead silence on the other end while it sunk in. And at last Dad said, “Aha.”
Rebecca sighed, stared at a picture of Matt at some event somewhere. “Dad, you remember the gala? Well, I thought about what you said, and I put it together after all. I am calling to invite you. I was hoping you would come and see what I’ve been doing, and . . . and meet Matt.”
Dad didn’t say anything at first. “That’s his name, huh?”
“Matt Parrish. He’s a lawyer in town.”
“God,” he groaned, then sighed wearily. “Are you happy, Bec?”
The question surprised her. “I . . . yes, Dad. I am. But why don’t you come see for yourself?”
“What, come to Austin?” he asked in a voice that sounded, remarkably, almost hopeful.
“Yes, to Austin. I think this gala is going to be really fantastic. I’ve pretty much done it on my own, but I’d really like . . . ” She stopped, hearing the words in her head and not wanting to say them.
“You’d like . . . ?”
“I’d really like to know what you think,” she said at last.
“That,” he said, “is encouraging. Yes, I want to see it, Bec. I want to know what is important to you, in spite of what you believe.”
Amazing what a little hanging up could do, Rebecca thought, and smiled. “Thanks, Dad,” she said. They talked a little longer about Grayson before ending the call. Rebecca was still sitting in Matt’s office, staring at the picture of him with her feet propped up on the edge of the desk when Matt came in, looking for her. “Hey,” he said.
“Guess what? Dad is coming.”
“Great,” Matt said, but Rebecca thought he looked a little pale.
Chapter Thirty-One
Men and women, women and men. It will never work . . .
ERICA JONG
Sometimes Matt felt as if he were on a seesaw. Things would be going along so great, and then someone would accuse him of being pushy, or opinionated, or somehow superior, and lately he had been getting it all from sides. Enough that he was seriously reassessing—reassessing everything.
First, there was Ben, who, when he found out Matt had taken on Charlie, a transient who had been hit by a public bus, went ballistic. “What in the hell is the matter with you? Are you trying to ruin us?” he had railed in Matt’s office one afternoon as Matt had calmly perched himself on the windowsill and let him have at it.