A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska) (8 page)

“Really? Then what is your type?” Mona asked, mildly confused. “You haven’t dated anyone since David died. Have you really been celibate for the past three years? I would die. Maybe I ought to buy you a vibrator for Christmas so you don’t grow cobwebs down there.”

“Mona! That’s enough already. Jeez, good night.” She rinsed her wineglass and put it in the dishwasher, gesturing for Mona to do the same when she was finished, and headed off to bed.

But as she washed her face and applied her facial cream, her thoughts stubbornly refused to settle and it was all Mona’s fault. Wade was a very attractive man. The idea of him in her bedroom, pressed up against her in a not-so-professional manner made her breath hitch. An unfamiliar tension curled inside her and she spent a minute organizing her vanity until everything was exactly in its place but the tension remained. Then she pulled a faint memory from her mental cache and startled when she realized what she was feeling.

Attraction.

Sexual attraction.

She closed her eyes and allowed a tiny bit of fantasy to play out in her head: Wade pushing her up against the wall, his tall, firm body aligning with hers perfectly, his tongue tangling with hers until she was left writhing with need. Her eyes popped open and she pressed a hand to her forehead, wiping away the sudden beads of moisture. She squeezed her thighs together to ease the aching emptiness and when that didn’t help, she abruptly rose with a tiny cry of frustration and turned off the light, determined to go to sleep and put this whole silliness behind her.

She was wrong to think of Wade in a sexual manner. It was unethical. And it wouldn’t happen again.

But as her eyelids finally drifted shut, Wade was there, naked, smiling, showing off that one adorable dimple and reaching for her.

It was going to be hard to leave this particular dream behind.

And even harder to face Wade in the morning.

CHAPTER NINE

W
ADE
RETURNED
TO
his hotel room, still rattled by what had just happened. He should’ve listened to his intuition and declined Mona’s offer but what could he say? He was a man and she was a sexy woman—sometimes the libido got in the way of rational thought.

He shoved a hand through his hair, groaning as he fell to the bed. That was no excuse for what almost happened. Seconds before Morgan had walked through the door, he and Mona had been in a pretty hot and heavy lip-lock. He’d been fairly certain they were going to end up in the bedroom. Good God, he was so glad that hadn’t happened. How embarrassing.

He stared up at the ceiling and wondered what Morgan was thinking at this very moment. Was she disgusted with him for going home with her sister? By the looks of things, Morgan hadn’t been surprised to find Mona entertaining a stranger in her home. Did Mona do this sort of thing often? When he’d thought that Mona reminded him of someone, he hadn’t expected that Mona and Morgan were related. But the minute Morgan entered the room, he saw the resemblance and wanted to die.

Mona had been amenable to taking the party elsewhere but the idea made him recoil now that he knew Mona was Morgan’s sister. Why did it matter, exactly? He wasn’t sure but it did.

Those excruciating five minutes were carved into his memory and would likely remain there until he died. Damn, he hadn’t felt this kind of adrenaline rush in years. He searched his memory. Hell, the last time his heart had raced like this was when he was seventeen and he and Angelica Ramon had nearly been caught naked in her shower together. Her parents were supposed to be gone for the day. Well, they’d come home early. Oh, that’d been a race to safety, for sure. Angelica had pushed him out of the bathroom window—thank the Lord for a single-story home—and he’d run to his Blazer clutching his clothes. All her parents had ended up seeing was the cloud of dust from his squealing tires as he beat a trail out of there.

Too bad everyone knew that he drove a burgundy Blazer. His dad had been waiting for him.

“A minute, son,” his dad had called out when he’d tried to sneak to his bedroom. Wet hair plastered to his head, Wade cursed under his breath and did an about-face.

“Yes, sir.”

Wade entered the den with slow feet, reluctant to meet his dad’s stare. He probably looked guilty as hell but he couldn’t help it. He knew Angelica’s parents had given his dad an earful and now it was time to pay the piper. “You’re never going to guess who just called...”

“Dad...”

“No, actually, on second thought, you probably know exactly who called, don’t you?”

For a split second he considered playing dumb but he was caught. “Yeah,” he answered. “Probably Mr. Ramon.”

“A very angry Mr. Ramon. He seems to think that you and his little girl were up to no good. Is this true?”

He shrugged. “Depends on your perspective, I guess.”

“How about from the perspective of Mr. Ramon?”

Wade shrugged again, hating that his dad was drawing this out.
Just punish me already and be done with it.

“All I can say is, you’re lucky Ben Ramon doesn’t own a gun, ’cause otherwise, I might be looking at a son with buckshot buried in his ass.”

Wade cracked an inappropriate smile and quickly smothered it.

“So here’s the deal...I remember what it was like to be a randy teenager but you gotta be more careful and more respectful of who you’re playing around with. First thing tomorrow, you’re going to go to Ben and mend fences. You’re gonna apologize and be the respectful young man I raised you to be.”

Wade looked to his dad, appalled. “You want me to go back there? He’ll beat me to a pulp.”

“Naww...he won’t do that but he’s going to give you an earful, and you’re going to listen. That’s his baby girl. Always remember that, son. For every girl you think you can mess with without consequence, she’s someone’s daughter. That ought to put things in perspective.”

And it had. Angelica had had a reputation around school and he’d gone to her house without further thought beyond the exciting possibility of getting laid.

His dad had always been filled with quiet wisdom like that.

Wade sighed as the wave of nostalgia brought an unexpected crack of pain.

And now Zed was in jail.

What the hell happened?

How had their family disintegrated so completely?

“Simone...” he said softly, her name drifting from his lips like a prayer, and that was all that needed to be said. Life wasn’t fair and he’d never suffered under the assumption that it was, but damn, if that message hadn’t been drilled into his family with brute force.

He supposed there was no point in putting off the inevitable. Tomorrow, after he took Talen to the park, he would visit his father in jail. A small groan escaped as he squeezed his eyes shut, not looking forward to the visit. He’d rather eat nails.

Or relive that excruciatingly embarrassing dressing down from Ben Ramon.

Anything but talking to his father with bars between them.

He rolled to his side and tugged his clothes off. Without bothering to find his pajamas, he climbed into bed nude and clicked off the light. Sleep, as always, was a long time in coming.

But then, he was used to that.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
DAY
, Wade picked Talen up after school, smiling as memories of his own childhood spent within those walls came back to him. Talen, an adorable tyke with impossibly dark eyes native to his Yupik heritage, squealed with excitement when he saw Wade, even though they’d never actually met face-to-face.

“Uncle Wade!” Talen ran and jumped into his arms without reservation. Wade swung him up and placed him on his shoulders as they walked to the car. “Mom said you were picking me up today and that’s all I thought about all day.”

“All day? What about your schoolwork?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t paying a lot of attention. My teacher said I was
woolgathering.
Whatever that means.”

He laughed. “It means you were daydreaming.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I was.”

“Who is your teacher?”

“Mrs. Eagan,” he answered as Wade helped him from his shoulders and into the car. “She’s nice.”

“Yeah? That’s a good trait in a teacher. I remember my third-grade teacher. Her name was Mrs. Winchell. She was real nice, too. I remember she always had a graham cracker for the kids who’d forgotten to bring a snack.”

“My mom always packs fruit. I wish I had a graham cracker.”

“Graham crackers are good, I’m not going to lie, but fruit is so much better,” he said, pulling away from the school and heading for the park. The boy didn’t look anything like Miranda but he was a good-looking kid nonetheless, which made him think that Talen took after Johnny. Thankfully, the kid would never have to know what a pathetic asshole his biological father had been. Wade had to give Miranda credit; even when her head wasn’t on straight, she always managed to put Talen first and it showed. “So what do you think of Jeremiah and your mom getting married?” he asked, maneuvering the streets toward the park.

“It’s good. Mamu says that Great Spirit puts people in our lives for a reason and I think Jeremiah helped my mom not be so sad,” Talen said.

“Your mom was sad?” Wade prompted, curious. “What was she sad about?”

“I don’t know but she didn’t get a lot of sleep. Sometimes when I would wake up for a glass of water, she’d be awake still. That happened a lot.”

Insomnia.
God, did they all suffer from that wretched curse?
“I’m sorry to hear that, buddy. Does she sleep okay now?”

“Oh, yeah, she sleeps good. Jeremiah puts her right to bed.”

Wade swallowed a guffaw.
Ah, the perception of kids. Gotta love it.
“I’m glad your mom is sleeping again. Sleep is important.”
Wish I could get some. Just a wink would be great.
“Your Mamu seems pretty smart. What else does she say?”

“All kinds of stuff. She’s full of smart stuff because she’s real old.”

He chuckled. “Yep. Wisdom often comes with age.”

Talen turned to Wade, his dark eyes curious. “Are you here because of what happened to Grandma Jennelle?”

Mamu wasn’t the only smart one. He smiled at Talen. “Yeah, buddy. Grandma Jennelle needs a lot of help right now.”

“Yeah, it makes me sad because she’s so sad inside.”

“You think she’s sad?”

“Don’t you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I do. I’m just surprised you can see that.”

“It’s easy to see. Grandma Jennelle seems mad but it’s really sadness. Her heart is hurting. That’s why it decided to stop working.”

Wade regarded his nephew, amazed at how intuitive the kid was for such a young age. “I think you’re right. We need to help Grandma Jennelle get past the hurt and sadness. Has your mom talked to you about what’s happening at Grandma’s house?”

“Sort of. Grandma Jennelle’s house is a mess and it smells terrible but she showed me how to take care of the plants outside. She’s fun sometimes.”

“Yeah, she used to be a different person,” Wade said wistfully, remembering when his mother used to smile, laugh and bake like there was no tomorrow. He swallowed the sudden lump that had risen in his throat and blinked back a wash of tears that came from an unexpected place. “Man, how about we put a pin in all this serious talk and hit the swings?” he told Talen as he put the car in Park and shut off the engine. “We have a mission to have as much fun as possible for the hour that we’re together. Sound good?” Talen gave Wade a thumbs-up with a gap-toothed grin, and Wade nodded in approval. “All right, then, let’s get this party started, my little man. Time’s wasting.”

“Race you to the swings!” Talen dashed from the car and was sprinting to the swings before Wade could even get his car door open. He laughed at the boy’s boundless energy and followed, realizing with a pang Skype wasn’t nearly enough when it came to spending time with his nephew. He’d missed out on too much. But he supposed that was how it had to be. At least he had Skype. It was better than nothing.

* * *

W
ADE
WALKED
INTO
the small jail building and after the requisite security checks he was led into a small visiting room where he awaited his father. His stomach churned, but he tried to keep his mind focused on what he wanted to accomplish today. He needed Zed to agree to let Rhett or Trace or him bail him out. That was the objective.

But even as he gave himself a mental pep talk, an immediate frown formed on his face the minute the guards escorted his shuffling father into the room and directed him to the metal chair opposite the table where Wade was sitting. The jail-issued clothing hung on his father’s formerly robust frame and he looked a shell of the man Wade remembered.

Zed, upon seeing who was visiting him, let out a long exhale as if he’d known this moment was coming but hadn’t been looking forward to it any more than Wade. A guard remained close by, hands folded but watchful as if Wade was going to slip Zed something to pick his handcuffs with, which Wade tried to ignore. “Hey, son.” Zed stretched back in the chair, his manacles rattling on the metal table. “Wish you’d picked a better time to come visit.”

“Yeah, me, too. What do you want me to say, Dad?” Wade asked, unable to play the polite card as he’d rehearsed in his mind. He knew he’d catch more bees with honey but all he had was vinegar in his blood at the moment. He was too bound up at seeing his father—correction, the man who used to be his father—in this situation. Where was the man with the quiet wisdom? Where was the man who’d taught him everything he knew about being a man? Gone. And in his place was a stranger. “Miranda tells me that you won’t let anyone bail you out, even though Rhett and Trace both offered. Why?”

“It’s like this, son. I’m better off in here.”

“That’s a matter of opinion. Did it occur to you that we could use your help with Mom? Things are falling apart. We need your help to get her to see reason.”

Zed shook his head. “You don’t need me. You guys got this in hand. Besides, I need to be in here.”

Wade didn’t hide his impatience. “No, what you’re doing is hiding in here. I see what you’re doing. You don’t want to face the mess that our family has become so you’re hiding out in this jail cell. Well, that’s bullshit. You need to let one of us bail you out so you can lend a hand.”

“I know it looks that way and maybe it is that way but I can’t leave yet.”

“Why?”

“I guess you could say I lost my way. And I finally found some clarity right here. I’m not ready to let that go yet.”

Damn, that meant Miranda was right. Zed was fighting addiction and this was the best way for him to do it. What could Wade say to that? If his dad was truly trying to get clean and right in the head then who was he to force him out into the cold? But that meant it was just more work for them, and Wade wasn’t okay with that. “Mom has a problem. Why didn’t you help her? Why did you leave her in that place? She had a heart attack, Dad. Do you understand she almost died? Your wife nearly died in that train wreck of a house. And what’s with that room of Simone’s? She’s made a shrine of that bedroom and it’s creepy. Surely you had to have known about what was going on?”

But Zed remained silent. Whether he didn’t have the strength to protest or he was silenced by shame Wade didn’t know, but it didn’t matter because his father’s silence spoke volumes to Wade.

“Dad, I can’t believe how bad things have gotten. I can’t believe you let this happen. The dad who raised me would’ve never let his wife disintegrate like this. He would’ve taken the situation in hand and helped his wife find the closure she needed. But instead, you buried yourself in that shed and spent all of your time tending to an illegal garden.” Wade shook his head. “Dad, you used to have talent. You were an artist, for crying out loud. But now you’re just a criminal. How am I supposed to make peace with that?”

“That’s your own struggle. I can’t take that on.”

“Yeah, that’s rich. Seems to me you can’t take anything on. Somewhere along the way you turned into a selfish bastard.”