Return to You (4 page)

"Of course, that's what I want." When her
grandmother said nothing, she gaped incredulously. "You aren't
suggesting that I hook up with that bastard again, are you?"

"That's not for me to say." She put a hand
out to Olivia for help up.

"What
are
you saying?" Olivia helped her
stand and picked up the basket to carry inside. "He dumped me
because I was in the way of his so called freedom. If we got
together again, how would it be any different? He'd leave me just
as quickly the next time an irresistible offer popped up. No, even
faster this time."

"Hmm." Gran slid her arm through Olivia's
and walked next to her.

"Because he loves himself to the exclusion
of everything else. Or at least he didn't love me enough."

"He loved you. Probably still does."

"Right."

"That kind of love doesn't fade. Like the
love of a parent for a child."

"Bad analogy, Gran. My parent didn't love me
enough to stay either."

"He loved you. His way of expressing it just
wasn't ideal."

"Ha!"

Her grandmother gave her a chiding look. "He
meant well."

"Give me a break, Gran. He dumped me here
after mom died and didn't come back for ten years. When he did come
back, all he did was criticize me."

"He just wanted what was best for you."

"How could he have known what that was when
he didn't bother to get to know me?" Olivia guided her over a
wobbly stone, knowing that Gran didn't see that well in the fading
light.

"Everyone's fallible, love."

"I know that," she said defensively.

"Does that mean you're going to give him
another chance?"

"Not in this lifetime."

Gran chuckled. "Love, as much as you'll hate
me for saying this, you're just like your father."

She faked a shudder. "Kill me now."

"You should give him another chance," Gran
repeated firmly, shaking Olivia's arm for emphasis.

"I'm not going to LA and he's not coming
here, so I don't think that's going to happen."

Her grandmother mumbled
something that sounded suspiciously like
don't be too sure
as they reached the
porch.

"What was that?"

Gran walked in and held the back door open
for her. Olivia was about to ask her what she said again when she
noticed the man at the sink.

Everett Parker.

She froze. Her grandmother, calmly took the
basket from her, set it on the kitchen table, and left the
room.

Olivia only had eyes for him. He watched her
with his disconcertingly pale green eyes. Absurdly, she remembered
asking him why his eyes had no color when she was three or four. He
told her because he gave all the color he had to make her eyes so
beautiful.

Frowning, she shut the memory out of her
mind.

"Hello, Olivia," her father said.

"I think I've been set up." She closed the
door on the chill evening air.

She looked just like her mother.

If it weren't for the dark hair she'd gotten
from him, he'd have thought Lily were standing in front of him
again. The shape of her face, her wide brown eyes, her figure—all
her mother's.

He felt a pang in his chest as he stared at
her.

What Olivia inherited from him was less
obvious, but he recognized it nevertheless. It was there in the set
of her clamped jaw and the glint in her eyes. It was in the
implacable way she folded her arms across her body, not defensively
but ready for battle.

He was going to have his work cut out for
him. Oddly, the thought exhilarated him like nothing had in
years.

"You're behind the movie, aren't you?"

"You know about the movie?"

"Your henchman stopped by my store
today."

"By henchman, I take it you mean Michael."
Parker pulled out a seat and gestured to her.

She glared at him suspiciously before
sitting. "He does your bidding, right?"

Habit told him to take the chair next to
hers, but instinct told him to give her space. So he sat across
from her. "You know Michael better than that."

"I doubt you came here to talk about
Michael."

Little did she know. "I came to see
you."

She chuckled mirthlessly. "Going for the
Oscar this year?"

"Why is it so hard to believe that I'd want
to see my daughter?"

"Maybe because it never rated very high on
your list of priorities." She gripped the edge of the table, her
knuckles white. "Cut the bullshit. The sooner you tell me why
you're here, the sooner you can leave."

"Your grandmother didn't tell you?" he
asked, knowing the answer. He'd asked Mae not to say anything to
Olivia.

"Didn't tell me what?"

"I'm going to be staying for the duration of
the filming." He could have smiled at the sour look that wrinkled
her face. She used to get that same look when Lily tried to feed
her something she didn't like. "In fact, Mae kindly agreed to allow
me to stay here at the farmhouse."

"
What
?" Olivia jumped out of her chair
so quickly she knocked it over.

He ignored its clatter, focused on her
unwavering gaze. "Become hard of hearing?"

"What part of 'I never want to see you
again' didn't you understand?" She propped her fists on her hips.
"Or have you forgotten? Because I'd be happy to refresh your
memory."

"I remember every word you said to me, but
isn't it time you grew up?"

"Open your eyes, Parker." She held her arms
out. "You missed it. I grew up."

Yes, you
did
, he thought sadly. And he'd missed it.
"Your behavior would suggest otherwise."

"I wondered when we were going to get to the
part where you voice your disapproval of me." She looked down at
her bare wrist. "You held out for a whole two minutes.
Impressive."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

"How the hell would you
know what suits me?" she yelled. "You don't know me. You dumped me
on Gran after mom died and didn't come back to see me until I
was
fifteen
. Even
then it wasn't me you were interested in."

"Remember who you're talking to, Olivia
Parker."

"Who am I talking to? The guy who donated
sperm to create me? Because you sure aren't my father."

He'd expected this. He'd been ready for it,
but her words pierced just as sharply as they had eleven years
ago.

She put her hands flat on the table and
leaned down to get eye to eye with him. "Stay here if you want.
Just stay the hell away from me. And keep your monkey boy away from
me too."

She strode out.

His gaze lingered on the archway.

"That was a gutsy thing you did." Mae walked
in and headed for the sink. "Gutsy or stupid."

"It was neither. It was necessary." He
needed to make sure all Olivia's anger was directed at him and not
Mae for agreeing to let him stay at their house. He didn't want to
interfere in their relationship. Olivia was bound to need her
before this was all settled.

"It was heroic." Mae's eyes were shrewd.
"Don't think I don't know what you did."

He chose to ignore that. "You did a good job
with her."

"She did it herself. You have your work cut
out for you, you know."

"Nothing that's worthwhile is easily
obtained."

Chuckling, Mae pulled out lettuce and some
other vegetables from the refrigerator. "Then this is obviously
priceless."

"I'm surprised you agreed to let me stay here with
you," he said as he watched her put together a salad. "I'd have
thought you'd tell me to get away from Olivia too."

She kept her head bent over the salad bowl.
"I want great-grandchildren."

"That's hardly contingent on me or
Michael."

"It's time to put the past to rest. Olivia
says she's moved on but she hasn't. She can't. Not until you two
settle things." She reached for a knife. "Besides, that girl's
still in love with Michael."

"I would have thought you'd be against me
getting them back together."

"You're trying to set a wrong right. Nothing
bad about that. You going to tell her why you left her here after
Lily died?" Mae asked, setting the salad on the table and looking
into his eyes.

Stifling the urge to squirm under her
knowing gaze, he said, "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do."

He leaned back in his chair with deceptive
calm. "Why don't you elucidate?"

"That it broke your heart to look at her
after Lily died in that accident, because Olivia's her spitting
image."

He kept his expression blank. "I didn't have
time to raise a five year old child."

Mae harrumphed. "You couldn't stand looking
into eyes that were just like Lily's and remembering what you
lost."

Forcing his jaw to relax, he asked, "Is that
really what you think?"

"It's what I know." She patted her chest.
"Deep down in here. I remember how you loved Lily. I watched you
after she died. I should've done something about that." Walking
over to the cabinet, she pulled out dinner plates. "Go wash up for
dinner."

It wasn't often he was dismissed. He stood
up, frowning. He should have brought a bottle of scotch with him.
He'd have Elaine get him one in the morning.

As he turned to leave, Mae's voice stopped
him. "The man you were is still inside you, Everett. He's buried,
but alive. He deserves happiness too."

Parker looked over his shoulder, catching
Mae give him one of her queerly intent looks. "We both know that
isn't true," he said as he walked out, conscious of his former
mother-in-law's too-knowing gaze following him.

Chapter Five

Olivia rang the doorbell three times and
then banged on the door for good measure. She shifted her weight
from one foot to the other, wishing she'd changed into more
comfortable shoes before running out of the house.

"Come on," she murmured, pulling her coat
closer to her body. "It's cold."

Just as she raised her fist to knock again,
the door swung open. Eve blinked, a frown marring the smooth ivory
skin of her forehead.

"About time," Olivia said. "I thought I was
going to turn into an icicle." She pushed past Eve and headed
straight for the kitchen.

Treat looked up from his dinner as she
walked in.

"Hey Treat." She picked up Eve's wine glass
and took a fortifying gulp.

"Make yourself at home, Olivia," Eve said,
sitting back down at the table.

"Thanks." Olivia didn't bother acknowledging
the less than faint sarcasm. She slipped out of her coat, draped it
over a chair, and sat across from Eve before picking up the wine
again.

She looked up to see both Treat and Eve
arching their brows at her. "This is good wine," she said.

Treat grinned. "I'm surprised you tasted
it."

"Actually, I didn't. I was just being
polite." She drained the glass and held it out. "But if you fill it
up, I promise I'll savor it this time."

"What's wrong?" Eve asked, frowning at her
husband as he refilled Olivia's glass to the brim.

"What isn't wrong?" Olivia sipped a little
to prevent the wine from sloshing over. She caught the look that
passed between them and, for the first time ever, felt a twinge of
envy.

Treat pushed back from the table. "I think
that's my cue to get lost."

Olivia stopped him with a hand on his
forearm. "Finish your dinner. I'm the one who barged in." She
looked at Eve. "You too. Eat. I'll just sit here and enjoy this
lovely vintage."

"Are you already getting tipsy?" her friend
asked suspiciously.

"I sincerely hope so." Olivia leaned her
head back, clutching her glass in both hands.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Olivia pursed her lips. "Didn't I get a
scone with my latte this morning?"

"No wonder you're loopy after one glass of
wine. We have plenty of food. I'll get you a plate." Eve stood
up.

"Michael's back," Olivia said, staring at
the ceiling.

"Michael?"

Olivia nodded. "Michael Wallace."

"Who's Michael Wallace?"

"My one true love."

Eve dropped back down.

"You'd think it couldn't get much worse than
having the only man who ever broke your heart suddenly show up
after eleven years." Olivia frowned. "Actually, he didn't break my
heart. He ripped it from my chest, mashed it to a bloody pulp, and
then stomped on it for good measure. But I'm over him."

"Sounds like it," Eve said dryly.

"That should have been the
low point of my day, right?
Wrong
." She banged her fist on the
table.

"Careful." Treat took her hand and held it
in his. "Whatever happened couldn't be worth hurting yourself."

"You don't know what happened."

"So why don't you tell us," Eve suggested
calmly.

"I get home tonight and find out that Gran
is letting my father stay at the farmhouse."

Eve gasped. "Knowing how you feel about him?
Why would she do that?"

"Because she's a perverse old bag." Olivia
took the wine bottle and refilled her glass. "Actually, Parker
probably conned her into it. She never had a chance."

"
Your
grandmother?" Eve asked
incredulously. "Somehow, I have a hard time imagining
that."

Olivia pointed a finger at her. "Don't
underestimate that slick bastard."

"I can see you women are going to need
another bottle of wine. Why don't you take it into the living room
and I'll bring it out. I'll even turn the fireplace on for you." He
dropped a kiss on Eve's lips before gathering the plates and taking
them to the sink.