The Ideal Man (17 page)

Ellie waved her brush at her father. “Dad, Max doesn’t want to hear—”

“Yes, I do,” Max said.

Her father continued, “I put a stop to it after those two problems and took Ellie home.”

“He made me promise not to tell Mom what happened,” she said.

“How come?” Max asked.

“Claire and I had agreed to help our daughter lead as normal a life as possible,” William said. “Getting up onstage and drawing attention to her capabilities at such a young age . . . her mother and I didn’t want that, and . . .”

“And what?”

He looked sheepish. “And I knew I’d catch hell if my wife found out.” He laughed and said, “I swear it was the only time I allowed her to perform in public. Ellie always loved math. She read all the books I brought home, and she and I would do problems together every now and then at night when the twins were having their baths or doing their homework.”

Fortunately, her father resisted the need to tell more stories about her, and Ellie was thankful. She finished the painting, and while her father took Max out to the garage to show him the apartment, she showered and changed into clean jeans and a blouse.

Her mother didn’t approve of the outfit. “You should put on a skirt. We have company.”

“Mom, he’s just a friend.”

“Set the table in the dining room.”

“We have a huge, round kitchen table. Max will be just as comfortable here. Besides, you’ve already got it set for dinner.”

“I just thought it should be a little more formal. When Ava and John come for dinner, she always insists we dine in the dining room.”

Of course she does
, Ellie thought. Ava was all about appearances.

“We don’t need to impress him.”

“Oh, all right. Go ahead and set a place for him at the kitchen table.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She kissed her mother on the cheek.

“Since you’re in such a good mood . . . ,” her mother began.

Ellie got a plate down from the cabinet. “The answer is still no.”

She carried the silverware and linen napkin to the table and set a place for Max. Never in a million years would she have guessed she’d be doing this for him.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask,” her mother said as she began to gather vegetables from the refrigerator.

Ellie took them from her and put them on the counter next to the sink. Her mother handed her a chopping board.

“I was just saying that since you’re in a good mood, you might want to reconsider . . .”

“I’m not going to be in the wedding.”

“Now, Eleanor Kathleen . . . ,” her mother said.

“You’re wasting your time.”

“You’ll break your sister’s heart.”

Ellie shook her head slowly. “Guilt isn’t going to work. The answer is no.”

“No, what?” her father asked as he came in the back door with Max.

“Your daughter is being stubborn,” her mother said.

Max was carrying tomatoes from the garden William had proudly shown him. He laid them in the sink and turned the water on to wash them. Next to him, Ellie was chopping vegetables. Her mother saw how fast she was working and immediately cautioned her.

“You be careful with that knife. It’s sharp.”

Ellie didn’t look up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And slow down, for heaven’s sake. You’ll cut your finger off. Here, give that knife to me. I’ll do it.”

“I’ll slow down,” Ellie promised.

Her father had gone into the hearth room and was standing with his hands in his pockets, watching the news on television, and her mother had gone into the dining room to get one of her fancy salad bowls when Max leaned into Ellie’s side. “Your mom knows you’re a surgeon, right?”

She laughed. “Yes, she does.”

“So she’s got to know you use sharp knives.”

“Both my mom and dad know what I have become, but neither one of them saw me get there. I was a child when I left home. They weren’t there to see the progress from university to medical school to residency to fellowship. They didn’t hear all the stories that happen during training.”

William walked into the kitchen. “Max?”

“Yes, sir?”

“It appears it will be a while before dinner is ready. Do you have a minute to step out in the backyard and have a talk?”

Uh-oh, Ellie didn’t like the sound of that. “A talk about what?” she asked.

“Patterson,” her father answered. “If Max is interested, I thought I would catch him up on what I’ve learned from my friends in the FBI.”

“Sure,” Max said. “I’ve got the time.” Turning to Ellie, he whispered, “Don’t you leave this house.”

Ellie stood at the sink, staring out at the yard. She couldn’t see the two men, but she could hear the low murmur of their voices. She was certain Max was asking all sorts of questions.

He knew just about everything about her; she knew absolutely nothing about him. Well, not exactly. She knew he lived in Honolulu but grew up in Montana. And that was it. Sisters? Brothers? She didn’t have a clue. She needed a plan, she decided, to get through dinner. As soon as it was over, she’d get him alone and start demanding answers.

Dinner was a challenge.

“Where did you grow up, Max?” her father asked as Claire served the salads.

“Butte, Montana.”

“Are your parents still living there?”

“No,” he answered. “When I was a freshman in college, they moved to Minneapolis, Minnesota.”

“Do they live in Minneapolis now?”

“Yes, sir, they do.”

“It gets so cold there and so much snow,” her mother interjected.

“I wouldn’t think it would be too much different from Montana. Gets real cold there, too,” her father said. “What does your father do for a living, Max?”

“He’s an attorney,” he answered. “He worked for the Department of the Interior for twenty-five years, retired, and now works as a children’s advocate for the State of Minnesota.”

“Admirable,” William said. “I imagine it’s a difficult job. Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked without pausing.

Ellie listened to the interrogation with mixed feelings. She wanted to hear more about Max, but she was terrified by the possibilities of where the discussion would lead.

“Dad, stop with the questions please,” she said. “Max isn’t interviewing for a job.”

“We’re just having a friendly conversation,” her father protested.

Max, Ellie noticed, didn’t seem the least fazed by all the questions. She, on the other hand, was sick to her stomach and could barely get her salad down. She never should have lied to her father. As soon as she’d introduced him to Max, she should have told him the truth, but she didn’t. She made the decision to keep quiet because her father hadn’t looked well, and she’d put him through such heartache. How could she have burdened him with more?

“And your mother? Does she work outside the home?” her father asked.

“She teaches music.”

“Any brothers or sisters?” he asked.

“Dad, enough already. Let Max eat.”

“No sisters,” he answered. “I have six brothers. Simon’s the oldest, then me, then Bishop, Sebastian, Bradley, Tyler, and Adam.”

“Your parents had their hands full with so many boys,” Claire said.

“Simon Daniels,” her father said. “That’s the same name as the football player Ellie’s so crazy about. He’s always her number-one pick in her fantasy football leagues.”

“When I get first choice,” Ellie explained.

Max flashed a smile. “You know who Simon Daniels is?”

“Of course I know him. He’s one of the best quarterbacks in the NFL. His stats last year were amazing: over forty-three hundred yards passing, a sixty-eight percent completion rate, lowest number of interceptions in the league. Don’t you follow football?”

“Sure, I do,” he replied. “How many fantasy leagues are you in?”

“I’m cutting back to two this year.”

“Max, would you like more roast beef?” her mother asked.

“No, thank you.”

“What does your brother do for a living?” William asked as he took the platter that Claire handed him.

“He’s a football player.”

Silence followed the statement. It didn’t last long. Ellie dropped her fork.

“Are you telling me your brother is
the
Simon Daniels, the future Hall of Famer?”

“That’s what I’m telling you.”

Ellie’s mother looked puzzled. “But he’s African-American, and you’re . . . not.”

“Simon’s parents adopted me,” he explained. He smiled as he added, “Then they got on a roll and adopted the others. I was eight years old when my adoption was final.”

“What happened to your biological parents?” William asked.

“Car accident.”

“No more questions, Dad,” Ellie pleaded.

She knew her face was flushed. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Max had all but knocked her off her feet with his ohso-casual announcement that Simon, the perfect quarterback, was his brother. She was flabbergasted and trying not to let it show.

“Ellie, I couldn’t help but notice you looked thunderstruck by the news that Simon was Max’s brother. You didn’t know?” her father asked.

“Uh . . . no,” she stammered. “Max never mentioned it.” Her mind raced to find an excuse. “But I understand why,” she said.

“Enlighten me,” he persisted, frowning now.

“He wanted me to like him for him . . . not who he’s related to,” she explained and hoped to heaven she was making sense.

Her father nodded, and that gave Ellie hope that he was buying yet another lie.

“There are still lots of things about Max I don’t know yet,” she said. Was that ever an understatement! “We’re getting to know each other.”

She pushed her chair back, stood, and snatched Max’s plate. She was on her way to the sink as she asked, “Finished, Max?”

She cleared the rest of the dishes while her father told an amusing story about one of the professors at the university. Then the topic moved to the wedding.

“The relatives will be pouring in here in two more days, and William and I have been frantically working on the house,” her mother announced.

“Not frantically, Claire.”

“Are there any other bedrooms that need painting?” Max asked.

“No, the lavender room was the last,” William said.

“Who chose that color?”

Ellie was rinsing the salad bowl and putting it in the dishwasher. “You don’t like the color?”

“I didn’t say that. I just wondered who chose it.”

Her parents glanced at each other before answering. The question seemed to surprise them.

“No one chose it,” Ellie’s mother said. “We purchased what was on sale, didn’t we, dear?”

“That’s right. That particular color had been discontinued.”

Max could understand why. The color practically glowed.

“We got it for a song,” William said proudly.

“Would you like some coffee, Max?” Claire asked.

“No, thank you.”

By this time, most of the dishes had been cleared, rinsed, and placed in the dishwasher by Ellie. Her mother carried a pitcher to the counter, and Ellie practically wrenched it from her hands to begin washing it.

“Ellie,” her mother said, “why don’t you and Max get settled in your rooms for the night. It’s been a long day, and I know you two would like some alone time to catch up. And just maybe, after a good night’s rest, you’ll reevaluate your position on the wedding.”

“I assure you that won’t happen,” she said, and before her mother could start in again, Ellie rushed ahead, “Are you sure you don’t want me to finish the dishes?” Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Max’s hand and headed for the back door.

Max made her wait while he thanked her parents for dinner, then followed her outside.

“I like your parents.”

She didn’t look over her shoulder as she crossed the yard at a fast clip to get to the steps.

“Uh-huh,” she agreed. “You’ve probably got a hundred questions about my family, don’t you?”

“No,” he answered. “Okay, maybe a couple.”

“Yes?”

She rushed up the stairs and waited for Max to unlock the dead bolts. He leaned around her, wrapping her in his arms as he slipped the keys in the dead bolts and unlocked the door. If she moved at all, her lips would touch his warm skin. He swung the door open and pulled back so she could go inside.

She walked to the center of the living room, turned around, and folded her arms in front of her while she waited for him to lock the door and give her his full attention. As soon as he was facing her, she said, “Okay, start talking. Why are you here?”

He leaned against the door and grinned. “I thought it was my turn to ask questions.”

She sighed in frustration. “Okay, I’ll give you two. Then you start explaining. Go ahead. Ask away.”

“What’s a plus one?”

T
hey were on round three of the argument.

Max had taken a shower, put on a clean T-shirt and jeans, grabbed the channel changer, and now sat on the lumpy sofa with his bare feet up on an ottoman, trying to watch the late news on a television screen the size of a breadbox while he patiently waited for Ellie to calm down and be reasonable. He doubted it was going to happen anytime soon.

The remote kept falling apart in his hand. It had been duct taped together, but the tape was obviously old. He made the mental note to buy a universal remote tomorrow or another roll of tape. It was downright barbaric not to have a decent channel changer.

“Are you listening to me?” she demanded.

“Yes, I am,” he lied.

God, she looked good. He watched her resume her pacing while she ranted. She had also showered and was now wearing a pale pink-and-white-striped nightgown that barely touched her knees, and a matching long cotton robe that tied at the waist. The robe was too big for her, and the hem dragged on the floor, but to him she looked sexier than if she had been wearing a flimsy negligee. She looked hot in everything she wore, even the baggy scrubs he’d first seen her in.