Touching Stars (32 page)

“Then you’re saying he doesn’t turn you on?”

“Eric, where is this going?”

“I’m trying to figure this out. I don’t want to step on toes.”

“Since when?”

“Since at the moment no one’s paying me to do it.”

“Travis says…” She considered, then shrugged. “Travis says that I’m the most married divorced woman he’s ever known.”

“Travis thinks you’re holding out for
me?
He doesn’t know you very well, then.”

“I don’t know what he means exactly. Not that. Maybe just that after one marriage, I got stuck. Like a timid kid on a median strip. I crossed one lane safely enough, but it wasn’t fun, and the traffic on the other side looks even scarier.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“So tell me your interpretation, Dr. Freud.”

“If you don’t fall in love again, then you won’t fail again?”

She considered. “Well, my mother views all divorces as failures. I think that’s why she’s so nice to you. She’s hoping she can persuade you to take me back, just so you’ll have the same wonderful mother-in-law.”

His laugh was deep, and it rumbled all the way to his fingertips. “I like Phyllis, but I won’t get married to
anybody
just because I like her mother.”

“What about you, Eric?” She hung her head lower. She was trying not to purr with pleasure, and she was definitely trying not to think about how long it had been since a man had given her this much.

“You want to hear about my love life?”

She waited for a stab of jealousy and realized she would be waiting forever. “Why haven’t you married again?”

“I figure if you’re not good at something, you have two choices. You can repeat it over and over until you get good at it—”

“Which is what all those people with four or five marriages are trying to do?”

“Dr. Freud says yes. Or you can avoid it completely and take no chance you’ll fail again.”

“Which is what Eric is trying to do?”

He laughed. “Dr. Freud says that seems to be Eric’s plan.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the caring hands or just having a laugh with a man who had once meant the world to her. But she felt warm inside, and yes, some of the warmth was sexual. She was aware of that, and wary. But some of it was even more complex. They’d once been friends, and now perhaps the embers of that friendship were slowly and carefully being fanned back into flame.

“What about Ariel?” she asked. “I like her, Eric.”

“Every man’s dream. His ex-wife and current lover as buddies.” He squeezed harder. “Stay away from her. I don’t want her to know my darkest secrets.”

“That’s the thing about you. You don’t have any. What you see is what you get. And if Ariel loves you—”

“Who said anything about love?”

“Well, you said
lover.
”

“When has that ever meant the same thing?”

“I forgot I was talking to a man. Just for the record, I’ve tried to teach our sons a slightly different definition of those words.”

“Then you think Jared
loves
Brandy? Or can you stretch far enough to see that their relationship is all about hormones and teenage lust?”

“I try to teach our sons that love is the big goal. Don’t wink at them behind my back.”

“I’m afraid Jared and Brandy’s relationship has nothing to do with winking or anything I’ve ever said to him. Jared’s turning into a man. And Brandy makes herself available.”

Gayle closed her eyes. “There are some things I don’t want to know.”

“Not thinking about them won’t change anything. But giving your opinion isn’t going to change anything, either.”

“All the boys were such cute babies. How did this happen?”

“You fed them and took them to the doctor, and they grew up. I tried to tell you we were in for trouble.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Feel any better?”

She turned, resting her back against one of his legs. She smiled up at him. “That was perfect.”

They sat like that for a moment; then he leaned down, lifted her chin and brushed a kiss across her lips. She had felt it coming and hadn’t made any attempt to stop him. The kiss felt warm and affectionate. A kiss good friends might share, or perhaps a nostalgic kiss between old lovers.

The door slammed, and she jumped, turning so quickly that her head snapped around. The newly relaxed muscles in her neck felt like rubber bands snapping back into place.

Noah stood in the doorway, his expression furious. Leon was just behind him. “Great!”

Gayle did not make the mistake of appearing flustered or, worse, apologizing. She realized how this looked. In the blink of an eye she could see how the entire summer looked to Noah. No matter how good her intentions had been when she’d invited Eric here, she had confused her children and blurred the boundaries of a divorce that had been carved in stone twelve years ago.

And possibly not just for the boys.

“You’re back early.” She rose and put on a smile. “Your dad was giving me a neck rub. It’s been a long day.”

“I saw what my dad was giving you.”

Eric was on his feet before Gayle could say a word. “I’ve had just about enough of this, Noah. I’m tired of being treated like a criminal, and I’m sure not going to let you treat your mother like one. If she needed a few minutes tonight when somebody took care of her for a change, then I think she can be forgiven.”

“Great, you take care of her. I’m leaving.” Noah turned and started back into the darkness.

Gayle looked at Eric. “I’d better go after him.”

“No, I will. This is my battle, not yours.”

“But I—”

“No
buts,
Gayle. You want me involved? I’ve got to be involved on my own terms.”

He was right, but Noah was the child she understood best, the one she was in many ways closest to. Even as she thought it, she realized that was the sum and substance of the problem. The only way to solve it was to release her hold on him and let his father help.

“You’re right.” Tears welled in her eyes. “See what you can do, Eric.”

He gave one quick nod, then strode to the door and closed it behind him.

Eric was halfway across the grass that separated the inn from the carriage house when somebody stepped out in front of him.

“Mr. Fortman.”

He realized this was the teenager Gayle had taken in, Leon Somebody or Other.

He sidestepped and kept moving. “Look, another time. I need to find my son.”

“You need to take a deep breath first.”

Eric was so surprised he halted and turned to face Leon. “Look, I’m sure your motives are good, but—”

“You could screw up a lot if you go after him as angry as you are now.”

“I’m not angry, I’m just…”
Angry.
The kid had nailed it, and Eric couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“I think I know what he’s feeling. Noah, I mean. He doesn’t talk to me about it, but I know him pretty well.”

“I know you’re trying to help but—”

“I’ve been furious at my father, too. You met him, so you can understand. But somebody finally helped me see that being angry is just a way to keep him at a distance. It doesn’t matter if I have a good reason or not. It’s a way to keep from being hurt even more. And that’s what Noah’s going through. I don’t know if you’ve given him a reason to be angry, and I don’t want to know. But I can tell you that’s what’s happening.”

Eric wanted to move on, but he recognized the courage this confrontation had taken. He took the deep breath Leon had recommended. “I can see why Gayle was so happy to bring you into the family.”

Leon didn’t smile. “Lots of people stepped forward to help me. Mrs. Fortman really stuck by me. She’s as close to a mother as I’ll ever have. So I’d like to help her. And Noah. He’s like a brother.”

“I’ll think about what you said.”

“Just one more thing. Like I said, Noah doesn’t talk much about his feelings. But I think he, well, you know, believes you don’t understand him and don’t care if you do. He thinks you want him to be just like you.”

For not saying anything to Leon, Noah seemed to have said a lot. Eric had to smile at Leon’s attempts to cover up for his friend.

He stuck out his hand, and Leon took it. The teenager still looked worried.

“Thanks,” Eric said. He shook the boy’s hand; then he dropped it. “I don’t know what’s up with your father, but he’s lucky to have you.”

Leon seemed to relax. He almost smiled. “And I’m lucky to have a place to go when he forgets.”

Eric clapped him on the back, then turned toward the inn.

“Mr. Fortman?”

“Uh-huh?”

“He’s spending a lot of time working on that quilt. Noah, I mean.”

Now Eric knew exactly where to look. “Thanks for that, too.”

“I’ve got to get back to camp now. Good luck.”

Eric watched him disappear into the darkness. In a moment he heard a car engine and saw lights disappearing in the direction of Travis Allen’s house.

Eric started back toward the inn. He wondered what he should do. Talking hadn’t helped. Noah really didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. He’d tried bribery, in both the past and present. He’d tried to be a pal by bringing him Buddy, tried to be a stern father. He wasn’t sure what else he could try.

He just knew one thing. He didn’t want to lose his son. And he had to make sure he didn’t.

The house was dimly lit, and the older couple with all the questions had apparently gone to bed at last. The banjo clock on the wall in the reception area struck eleven, but otherwise the inn was silent. Eric made his way to the morning room and stood in the doorway. Noah was at the quilt frame, a floor lamp poised over the quilt so he could see his stitches. He didn’t look up.

Eric stayed where he was. “When I was your age and things weren’t going right, I used to go out to my father’s workshop. Once, after a fight with him, I stayed up all night building a bookcase for my bedroom.”

Noah didn’t answer. Eric waited and hoped.

“What did your father say?” Noah asked at last.

Eric tried to remember how the story had ended. “You know, the next morning I think he just came out and helped me carry it to my room. There wasn’t any place to put it, so we set it in the middle of the floor and I walked around it for years.”

“He sounds like he’s not so bad.”

“Not bad. Disappointed. I guess I’ve just stayed away from my family because somebody else’s disappointment is pretty hard to face.”

“Well, you’re disappointed in Dillon. You make that pretty clear.”

Eric moved across the room and took a seat kitty-corner to his son. “Noah, I’ve been disappointed in myself, not in your brother. Dillon came at a time when your mother and I were already having problems. I was restless, unhappy. I felt tied down.”

“I don’t need to hear this.”

“Yeah, you do. Because you already know some of it, but not the part where I’ve been kicking myself from here to next Sunday for not knowing how to make things right. But Dillon and I? We’re finally on our way. It just took really getting to know him. That sounds simple, I guess. But it wasn’t. I’ve got a lot to make up for.”

Noah glanced at him. His eyes were stormy. “And what about Mom?”

“What about her?”

“What’s the deal? You leave for the hard part? When we’re young and need a lot of attention? Then, when the worst is over, you come back to see what you’ve missed out on?”

Eric took his time answering. “I hope that’s not what I’m doing.”

His candor seemed to take Noah off guard. “If you don’t know, then who does?”

“There are no easy answers. You know that. I can see it in everything you do. All your paintings, your sculpture, even the little clay figures you used to make when you were a kid, all of them say the same thing. Life’s complicated. People are complicated. You knew it when you were little, when you were still scribbling and using fingerpaints.”

Noah looked surprised. “You look at my stuff?”

“Of course I do. I’ve seen it all. You’ve showed me some of it yourself, and your mom’s showed me the rest. And I’ve kept everything you ever made for me.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were paying attention.”

Eric stared at him until he realized his eyes were in danger of filling with tears. “How could you think that?”

Noah looked away and shrugged.

Eric sat silently and watched his son quilt. Then he moved his chair a little closer. He cleared his throat. “You’re not stitching a straight line.”

“Anybody can do that.”

“Not your mother.”

Noah laughed a little. His eyes flicked to his father, then back down to the quilt. “I’m following my own design. Ms. Henry says that it’s okay in these squares between the stars, that she’ll follow my lead in the other ones if what I do’s worthwhile.”