Anything for Her

chapter SEVEN



THE MEETING SET UP by the coach to talk to prospective basketball players and their parents turned out to be a casual affair, held in the school library. The parents appeared relaxed, the boys less so. Nolan could see why from the minute they walked in.

Upwards of twenty boys had showed up, and there might be a few more whose parents couldn’t make it tonight, or who would decide later to try out for the team. And these were only the freshmen or sophomores taking a first shot at the team. It didn’t count the returning varsity or junior varsity players.

In other words, likely not every kid here tonight would make the team. Which resulted in the boys all eyeing each other sidelong in silent appraisal. The parents were probably all doing the same, if more subtly. Nobody wanted to think, My boy won’t make the cut.

Nolan was amused to find himself as anxious as any other parent. He didn’t have to worry, he decided; if nothing else, Sean was the tallest boy here. Given another year, he’d pass Nolan in height, and showed promise of indeed being tall enough to lead the West Fork team as forward or even center by the time he was a junior or senior. The other boys here all had that same gawky way of moving, too, so that wasn’t a hindrance.

The coach was encouraging and discouraging by turn. He made clear that he expected complete dedication to the sport once the season opened. No smoking, no drinking, no drugs, no missed practices unless they were mighty sick. No fights, minimum C-average. If a boy violated any of the restrictions, he was off the team, no recourse. He looked from one face to the next to be sure every boy here was taking him seriously. Then he talked to the parents about their share of the commitment, and checked to be sure they were listening, too.

Tryouts were mid-October, practice started late in October, except for the boys who were also playing football and who had to juggle practices.

“I make a practice of urging students not to try to play both sports,” he told them. “You can’t give the same level of commitment or performance if you are. We allow it, though, especially at the JV level. It’s one way to find your sport.”

He was frank that some of the boys wouldn’t make it. “All of you,” he said, “will put on height or muscle or speed or just determination over the next year, so if you don’t make it this year, try again.”

When the meeting broke up, he went around shaking hands and talking to as many boys and their parents as possible.

“Glad to see you’ve decided to try out,” he said, assessing Sean. “I had my eye on you and planned to talk to you these next few weeks if you didn’t show up tonight.”

“Really?” Sean’s voice squeaked, which brought mortified color to his face.

“You look like a basketball player to me.” The coach nodded and moved on.

“Because he thinks I’m going to be tall,” Sean burst out, once he and Nolan were crossing the sodium-lamp-lit parking lot.

“I think it might be more than that. You’re going to be a good athlete.”

Sean didn’t say anything else until they were closed in the pickup. “You really think so?” he asked then.

“I do.” Nolan turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. “Let’s plan to get that hoop up this weekend.”

He’d ordered one online and expected it to arrive before the end of the week. He sometimes had to remind himself to involve Sean in his everyday repairs and projects, but because he persisted he could already see an improvement in his foster son’s competency and confidence.

Too bad he wasn’t as enthusiastic about cooking, despite his vast appetite, Nolan thought drily.

“Are you going out this week?” Sean asked, ultra-casually.

Nolan cast him a glance. “Don’t know.”

They got nearly home before Sean cleared his throat. “I guess Allie is mad at me.”

Nolan tried to read the tone. Shame? Repentance? Secret glee?

“I think she understood,” he said noncommittally.

“Is she mad at you?” the boy asked, in a smaller voice.

Was this one definitely contrite, or hopeful?

Nolan put on the turn signal even though there was no other traffic this time of night on the country road. “I guess she was,” he agreed.

“Oh.”

They pulled up front of the house. Nolan locked the pickup and started for the house, Sean trailing him. Nolan stopped and waited; whenever the boy lagged behind that way, Nolan always pictured him with his last foster dad.

They walked the last few feet side by side, but Sean balked at the foot of the porch steps. “Did I wreck things?”

Nolan hesitated, picking over his possible responses before settling on one. “Did you? No. Did we? It was a close thing. But don’t try to take all the responsibility, Sean. I shouldn’t have invited her.”

“I don’t even know why I acted that way,” he mumbled.

Nolan smiled and clapped him on the back. “Sure you do. But it’s nothing to brood about, all right?”

“Maybe it would be okay if we did something with her this Sunday.”

Nolan raised an eyebrow. Well, well. Did he mean it?

“We’ll see,” he temporized, unlocking the door. Cassie exploded through it in a frenzy of body-wriggling delight. “Now go on, give her some time outside before you start getting ready for bed.”

The happy dog diverted him from his grumbles. Nolan was smiling as he went to the kitchen to set up the coffeemaker.

He wondered what Allie would say if he invited her someplace this Sunday in company with Sean. Good idea, or bad?

* * *

ALLIE HAD ALREADY spent an obscene amount of money by the time she and her mother took a break for lunch at the Grill in the flagship Nordstrom store. She was glad to plunk down her bags and peruse the menu.

Once they ordered, a honey lime chicken ciabatta for her and halibut with fresh market veggies for her mother, Allie took a sip of iced tea. “You haven’t bought much yet.”

Mom made a face. “I think it’s too hot today to get excited about cold-weather clothes.”

“You mean, we have to do this all over again a month from now?”

Her mother laughed. “That’s such a hardship?”

No, the hardship was having had to say “no” to Nolan, who had taken it in good part but sounded disappointed. Surprised, too. Common feminine wisdom would suggest that she needed to say no to him occasionally. Only...she missed him.

“Of course not. You probably have friends you could go with, too.”

“You know you’re always my first choice,” her mother said comfortably.

Mom had always been Allie’s, too. She’d never seen anything wrong with being best friends with her mother. In fact, she’d believed she was lucky. Only lately had she begun to wonder.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “About...oh, when I was little, I guess.”

Only the slight deepening of some lines on her mother’s face suggested this wasn’t a welcome subject. “What have you been thinking?”

“I told you I went with Nolan and Sean to pick out a dog last weekend, right? That got me to remembering Lady.”

Mom’s expression eased at that. “I don’t know what possessed us to choose a beagle when we had such a small yard. We should have gotten a tiny dog. Or a lazy one.”

“Dad used to get so mad when she disappeared.”

They both laughed, remembering the way he’d fumed to hide his worry. The whole family would spread out, walking city blocks calling Lady’s name. She always seemed surprised when one of them appeared so far from home.

Usually Allie’s mother blocked any talk about the past. We’ve eased into it, good. “And Nanna,” Allie continued. “Does it bother you that, well, you weren’t there when she died?”

Now Mom’s face froze. “What do you think? Of course it bothers me!” As if aware of how her voice had risen, she scanned their fellow diners, none of whom appeared to be paying any attention to them. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“Because I’ve forgotten so much. I wish...I wish we’d kept more, to remember people by.” She wished for more than that, but knew she couldn’t say so.

“Oh, things,” her mother said dismissively. “You always did like to collect mementos.”

“Did I?”

“Every vacation, you’d insist on hauling home shells or pebbles and piles of brochures. Do you remember pressing flowers and leaves? You told me you wanted to keep the smells.” Her mouth curved reminiscently. “You were so disappointed when you discovered that dried flowers and leaves lost their scent.”

The memory of eagerly pressing flowers between the pages of a fat book, then piling a dozen other equally fat books atop, came to her as if it had been yesterday. And the dry, faded result. She’d lifted the book after she opened it and inhaled deeply, but caught only the hint of the smell she sought, or it might have been the memory of it.

I do remember, Allie thought with astonishment. She’d had a huge bulletin board over her bed, crowded with photos and bits and pieces of this and that. Postcards from places they’d been, a sand dollar that had smelled for a long time—quite unpleasantly, but still. Worn-out dance shoes, programs from recitals and performances, Lady’s collar after she had died in her sleep one night. Notes friends passed at school. A picture of Hunter surreptitiously taken and tucked beneath a brochure from a Catskill resort where the Marr family once vacationed, so that her brother didn’t see it and tease her mercilessly.

It had all been left behind.

She’d tried to begin again, after that first move when she had become Laura Nelson. But making friends wasn’t easy, and there was no dance, and no Lady, and no Nanna, or Grandmother and Grandfather in Florida, either. Letters and birthday cards from them were forwarded, but they had to be so careful when they wrote back. And if there had been vacations...well, she didn’t remember them. Their house had been so silent, her parents maneuvering around each other in brittle silence. The tension had grown and grown until Dad moved out. Her parents’ marriage, Allie had always believed, was a casualty of the decision Mom had made and Dad had opposed—the one that ended with the whole family having to go into the Witness Security Program.

“I remember that,” Allie murmured now, then saw that their food was being delivered. “We had time to go to Florida,” she said once the waitress left. “Why didn’t we have time to pack more?”

Mom looked at her with something like anger. “How could we disappear quietly if everything we owned had to be loaded into a moving truck? You understood then.”

“No.” Allie met her eyes. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t understand anything that was happening.”

“Well, this certainly isn’t the place to talk about it.” Her mother’s body was rigid.

Allie hadn’t tried to discuss the past in a long time, but today she felt stubborn. “You never want to talk about it.”

“What good does it do? I did the right thing. We all knew it required a sacrifice on all our parts. The best we can do is move on, not dwell on what can’t be changed. You know that’s what I believe.”

“There’s a difference,” Allie said quietly, “between not dwelling and pretending a huge part of our lives never happened.” Not pretending—forgetting. The difference expanded in her head. How had she been so blind? “We didn’t leave everything behind because we couldn’t take it. You didn’t want us to remember, did you?”

“You were teenagers, both of you. Jason was chafing to get out on his own, you were furious at having to move. Your father and I agreed that we all needed to look ahead, not behind.”

“Did he agree?” Allie asked, shocking herself. “Or did you not give him any choice, either?”

Her mother’s face pinched. “You’re still that bitter?” she whispered.

Allie closed her eyes. What was this gaining either of them? The past was past. How wrong would it have been to let a murderer walk, when Mom’s testimony could convict him? That’s what Dad had wanted her to do, Allie knew, but despite all Allie’s grief and, yes, bitterness, she’d also admired her mother for following her conscience. So now what was she trying to say? You should have put us first, and to hell with your conscience?

She let out a ragged breath and reached across the table for her mother’s hand, which had a tremor. “No. No, I swear I’m not, Mom. Just...confused sometimes. It’s scary how much I’ve forgotten.”

Mom’s anguished gaze met hers. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

She had to let this go. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve just been thinking more than usual, that’s all.”

Mom’s shoulders sagged slightly with relief. She reached for her iced tea, and froze. “You haven’t said anything, have you? To Nolan?”

“No!” Never, never, never.

“No. Of course.” Her mother relaxed again. “I shouldn’t have even asked.”

“It’s okay.” Allie forced a smile. “I’m the one who is sorry. We were having such a good time.”

“Don’t be silly. I want you to feel free to talk to me anytime, about anything.” She reached for her fork at last. “Once we’ve eaten, what do you say we walk over to Coldwater Creek next? And stop at any shops on the way that appeal to us.”

“Sounds good,” Allie lied. “I need to drop these bags off at the car first, though. Maybe we can separate and set up a rendezvous.”

They agreed, and, walking the opposite direction her mother went when they left Nordstrom, Allie was glad to be alone for a few minutes. She, who was never mad at her mother, felt as sulky as Sean had last Sunday.

Because a rebellious part of her knew damn well her mother didn’t really want Allie to talk to her, not when the subject was the past. What she also truly didn’t want was Allie ever talking to anyone else about it—ever. And for the very first time, Allie wondered whether that was really because of potential danger, or whether there were other reasons altogether to explain why her mom still held on so tight to her daughter.

* * *

NOLAN PARKED BEHIND Allie’s Corolla and sat for a moment looking up at her apartment.

Sunday had been a crappy day for him, although he’d tried to hide how he felt from Sean. The only place they went was grocery shopping. Otherwise, they played one-on-one in front of the hoop, newly hung Saturday afternoon, and romped with Cassie. He’d gone out with Allie Friday night, and made love with her, although he’d hated having to leave her so quickly. Maybe it was stupid pride that had kept him from asking when they could see each other again, but he couldn’t help realizing that he had made all the moves. And he wanted Allie wholehearted, not reluctant. So he’d left without saying anything but good-night.

Then he’d spent Sunday feeling as jealous as if she was out with another man, and he didn’t even know why.

When the phone rang last night, midevening, he’d pounced on it beneath Sean’s astonished gaze. With an effort he had straightened his shoulders and gone for an air of dignity. “Hey, Allie,” he’d said, and murmured to Sean that he’d take Cassie out. So at least he had some privacy when she invited him to lunch today at her place. He’d accepted instantly, and to hell with the day of work he’d be losing, like he had last Monday.

By the time he climbed the stairs Allie had the door open and was waiting for him. She wore jeans today and a skimpy T-shirt with tiny cap sleeves baring slender, pale arms. Her hair was captured in a loose braid. To him, she looked so beautiful, he immediately felt as dazed, clumsy and tongue-tied as he had when he first met her. He didn’t seem to be the kind of man a woman like her would choose, he sometimes thought fearfully, but the vulnerability and loneliness he’d glimpsed in her made him suspect her looks didn’t have much standing in her self-image.

As he climbed those damn steps that, short-rised as they were, tried to trip him up, Nolan reminded himself that he didn’t know that Allie had chosen him. Maybe from her point of view all they were sharing was a brief, casual relationship. Which might be why she didn’t seem all that eager to share every little bit of herself with him.

Yeah, that would make sense—except he didn’t believe there was much that was casual about Allie Wright. And most especially he had trouble seeing her having casual, never mind brief, relationships.

So maybe she wanted to choose him, but something was stopping her. Or maybe she was merely cautious, and he was impatient, he thought with a certain wry humor. A man who carved granite, impatient for results. Now, there was a picture.

He reached the top and touched her cheek. “Hi,” she said softly, and flowed into his arms. With a struggle he kept the kiss more tender than passionate, because he could smell her cooking.

She drew him into the apartment by the hand, apologizing because their days off didn’t coordinate and thanking him for coming anyway.

“No, this is good. I got in a couple of hours of work this morning. And this gives us a day when I don’t have to explain to Sean where I am or what I’m doing. I’ll put in half a day Saturday to make up.” He watched with pleasure as she bustled in the tiny kitchen. “How was the shopping trip?”

“I bought this T-shirt.” She twirled once, doing something completely natural but also complicated with her leg that made the spin something out of the ordinary. “And a whole bunch of other clothes, too. I got carried away.”

“I like the shirt,” he admitted. The pale rose was good with her white skin, and the deep scoop of the neckline exposed the first curves of her small breasts. The front had, hmm, a picture of a bird in flight. He thought. It was kind of abstract. Nolan grinned. It looked like something he might sculpt.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because I like you in the shirt?” Then he told her what he’d thought. “Will you come out to my place next Monday for lunch and a tour?”

“I would love lunch and a tour.” She danced by where he leaned against the counter edge and gave him a kiss on his jaw as she passed. “It’s a date.”

Lunch was chicken tikka masala accompanied by garlic naan bread, which she’d baked herself. She sat on the far side of the table, obviously guessing he’d have a hard time squeezing himself in over there.

Even though he was mostly hungry for her, he surveyed the food with appreciation. “I usually settle for a peanut butter sandwich for lunch. If I’m feeling ambitious, I nuke a frozen pizza. You worked hard on this.”

“Cooking for two is more fun than just for myself. I don’t do this every day, believe me.” Her smile was crooked and tantalizing. “You know I’m lucky to get a sandwich at work myself.”

He got her talking a little more about her mother. At other times he’d sensed nothing but love and pride. This time, it was as if she was having to remind herself of the pride. She spoke firmly about how hard her mother worked, how dedicated she’d been to the Friends of the Library, about what good friends they were.

“You never talk about your mother,” she said finally.

Now, how was it she’d known to zero in on the parent about whom he had the most complicated feelings? No, it wouldn’t have helped if she’d asked about his father, because then he might have to say, Which father? The one I thought I knew, or my real one?

Nolan had wrestled with himself about this. He wanted to know her with an urgency he’d never felt before. She was already unsettled by his nosiness. He couldn’t ask of her what he wouldn’t give.

“There’s a reason for that.” He tore a piece of naan bread in half, then set down both pieces, hardly aware what his hands were doing. “My mother is sophisticated but also warm and friendly. She managed to juggle owning a successful business while still making time for us kids.” He paused. “I thought my mother was the greatest, until I was fourteen and got hurt in shop class at school. I cut myself real bad. I bled so much I needed a transfusion. That’s when I found out my blood type didn’t match either of my parents’.”

Allie’s mouth formed into a shocked O.

“The shit hit the fan. I’d never thought about why I didn’t look like either of my parents, or much like my brother or sister, either. Jed now, he looks like our father, and you can see Mom in Anna, even though Anna’s a lot taller and more angular.”

“You were adopted?”

“That’s what I first assumed. I couldn’t believe they’d never told me. It especially stung when I thought I was the only one of the three of us who was adopted. That’s when she confessed that she’d had an affair and, while I really was hers, the man I’d always believed was my father wasn’t.”

“Oh, Nolan,” Allie whispered, her green-gold eyes soft.

“I guess you can imagine how shocked I was. Who wants to think about their parents having sex at all?” He was trying to add some humor to this, but she didn’t smile and he couldn’t blame her. “Your mom having sex with some man other than your father?” He shook his head. “You could pretty well hear the pieces shattering when she toppled off her pedestal.”

“Did your dad know? Or was this a surprise to him, too?”

“Oh, he knew. I went storming straight to him, and he assured me he’d loved me as his own from the minute I was born. Neither of them had been sure whether I was his or the other guy’s until I was born, and they learned my blood type. He’d forgiven Mom, he told me, and I was his son, as far as he was concerned. I don’t know what they thought. That I’d be happy with the explanation? Or maybe a little ashamed and not want Jed and Anna to know? Either way, they pegged me wrong. I told my brother and sister and asked them how they knew for sure that they weren’t bastards, too?”

“That’s an awful word!” Allie frowned at him.

“Technically true, though.” He shook his head. “I’m...mostly past it, Allie. I’m thirty-two years old. That was a long time ago.”

“So...what happened? What did Jed and Anna say?”

“They demanded to know what their blood type was. When Mom and Dad stonewalled them, they both called our family doctor to find out. Jed’s matched Dad’s, Anna’s Mom’s.”

Seeing her expression, he shook his head. “No, all didn’t end happily. Eventually Mom admitted she didn’t know for sure who Anna’s father is. Yep, she’d had another affair. At least one more. I got the feeling maybe there were others—it was just she hadn’t had any more children. Why she let herself get pregnant and wasn’t on the pill or insisted on condoms or... Well, there’s one part of the mystery.

“Dad fumbled to explain to Anna and me that he loved our mother and she loved him, and that, yes, it hurt but living without her would hurt more.” Nolan shook his head. “None of us were of an age to understand at all. I’m still not sure I do. I think most of all it was the lies that I despised. The facade of a happy family and great marriage, which couldn’t be less true. I’ve told Sean that the one thing I won’t tolerate is lies.” He heard how harsh and ragged his voice had become.

Allie flinched away from him, and he could only imagine what she saw on his face to scare her that way.

She swallowed. “What about your brother and sister? How did they handle it all?”

“Not much better than me. Jed’s only eighteen months younger than me. I guess he was our parents’ makeup baby.” Acid seemed to scour his voice this time, and he cleared his throat. “Then there was a two-year gap before Anna came along. So she was only ten when all this erupted.” He half laughed, although without much humor. “At least she wasn’t already messed up with hormones like I was. After the first upset, she tried to pretend none of it had happened and got pretty resentful at me when I wouldn’t play along. Even as an adult, she’s never demanded DNA testing.

“Jed, well, it was complicated for him, because our parents were his parents, and he was afraid we’d resent him having something we didn’t.” This smile, although tilted, felt more natural. “You notice there was a lot of resentment going around?”

“I’m not surprised.” There was enough irony in her tone to raise his eyebrows, but this wasn’t the moment to question it. Nope, his current priority was spilling his guts out on the table for her to take a good look at.

“I suppose we all patched things up to some extent, especially Jed and Anna. They were younger, and what were they supposed to do? I know the distance I’ve kept hurts Dad.” Nolan grimaced. “Probably Mom, too. But I don’t seem to be as forgiving as I should be.”

“Did you find out who your biological father is?”

He shook his head. “Neither of them would ever say. I assume my dad knows, but every time I asked, all he’d say was ‘I’m your father.’ That’s eaten at me some, never knowing. Anna says the same. I suppose it’s like an adopted kid must feel, except we don’t even know that our fathers ever had a clue they got Mom pregnant.

“I told you she’s a publicist, I think.” He waited for her nod. “She goes on the road pretty regularly with clients making the round of talk shows, and doing book signings when he’s an author, that kind of thing. Chances are good the men she slept with were clients. They wouldn’t have been around later to see that she was pregnant and wonder.

“I got desperate enough at one point to research her clientele during the year that I was conceived, but there wasn’t any one guy who looked so much like me I could say, ‘It’s him.’” He shrugged. “Maybe that’s not even who it was. Could have been her dentist, a guy who worked in the next office building—who knows. I gave up, eventually.”

“Wow.” She pressed her fingertips to her lips and gazed at him in a sort of astonishment. “That was...way more than I expected, when I thought about the way your face closed whenever the subject of your parents came up.”

He laughed and reached for the torn naan bread again. “It’s not something I usually talk about, I admit.”

“Do you...ever go home at all? For holidays, or...?”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Yeah, I do. My childhood wasn’t bad, you see. I believe my parents both love me. I’m still undecided how I feel about them. It’s always good to see Anna and Jed. Jed’s married now, and has a two-year-old girl. Cute little thing.” He found himself smiling. “I was thinking this Christmas I’d take Sean home to show him off. Though he’s not as cute as little Lidia.”

“I don’t know. If you’re a teenage girl, you might think differently. When he’s not sulking, anyway.” She thought that over. “No, that’s not true. Sulky is sexy, when you’re a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old girl.”

“God,” he said fervently.

She laughed at him. “He can’t possibly be any sulkier than you were at that age, from what you say.”

“No.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw. “The first time I set eyes on him, I recognized all that angst. I suppose you could say I saw myself.”

He’d told her the story of his first encounters with Sean and his inexplicable offer to help if the boy ever needed him. What he hadn’t told her then was why he’d identified with Sean as he had.

Allie’s smile was tremulous. “You’re a good man, Nolan.”

He should be glad to accept any admiration from her, but if there was one thing they had to have, it was honesty. “Taking in Sean may be the first good thing I’ve ever done for anyone,” he said roughly. “I told you. I’ve always been a loner.”

“I know what alone feels like.” Her voice was so quiet he barely heard her.

“Yeah.” He scraped his chair back and stood, holding out a hand. “We don’t have to be alone.”

“No.” She abandoned what was left of her meal as gladly as he had. She felt so damn right in his arms. “Not with you.”

He banded her with his arms, kissed her and echoed her words.

With her...not alone.