Don't Say A Word (30 page)

    This wasn't her, was it?

    She didn't have casual sex, did she?

    Not that kissing Alex felt even close to casual.

    "Stop thinking," he muttered against her mouth. "I can hear the wheels turning in your brain." He lifted his head to look at her. She missed him when he was gone, but he was right: She was thinking and worrying…

    "I'm not sure," she whispered. "I just got out of a relationship. I'm not certain I want to dive right into another one." She saw something flicker in his eyes and realized that he didn't want a relationship; he just wanted sex. She felt incredibly disappointed. "Oh," she said. "You're not looking for anything more than tonight or maybe just the next fifteen minutes."

    "I think I can do better than fifteen minutes," he said lightly as he sat back. "It doesn't always have to mean something, Julia."

    "I think it does-to me." She paused. "I know that sounds like a real girl thing to say, but that's what I am. If we make love tonight, Alex, I'm afraid I might fall in love with you. I don't think you want that."

    She wanted him to refute her statement, tell her that's exactly what he wanted, because in truth she was already halfway in love with him, maybe more.

    Alex didn't answer for a long tense moment. Then he said, "I'll leave you to make up the bed."

    "You're not going to say anything else?"

    "I don't make promises I can't keep." He got up and walked to the doorway, then turned back to her. "I don't know what real love is supposed to look like or feel like, Julia. And since you thought you were in love with someone else about eight hours ago, I'm not sure you do, either." On that note he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

    She flopped back onto the bed, wondering if she'd made a huge mistake. As she stared up at the ceiling, she considered what he'd just said. He was wrong about one thing: She hadn't been in love with Michael eight hours ago. In fact, she'd probably never been in love with him, not the way she should have been. His kisses had never made her feel so dizzy, so off balance. Michael had been nice, comfortable, caring. Alex was hot, reckless, passionate.

    She knew she wanted more in her life than what she'd had with Michael, but Alex was like a stick of dynamite. When it came right down to it, did she really 232 have the courage to go after everything she wanted? She could stay here and play it safe, or she could march» out into the living room and take the biggest risk of her life.

    Her brain battled her body. Finally logic and caution won out. She couldn't make love with Alex to- 1 night. It was too soon. She was too confused. It j wouldn't be right.

    But tomorrow was another day.

    Liz sat in her father's kitchen early Wednesday morning, watching him pour two glasses of orange juice. He topped off his drink with a discreet shot of vodka. She knew she should say something, but she wasn't in the mood to argue with him. She hadn't slept well on his couch, and her nerves were strung tight after the break-in at her apartment. She still had to face going back there and trying to put her belongings back together.

    Everything was changing, she thought with a small sigh. Her life felt wrong in every way. Just seeing her father padding around the kitchen in mismatched pajamas with his hair standing on end and an air of fragility about him reminded her how different everything was. Breakfast in her family had always been a big, happy affair. Her mother had loved cooking up plates of eggs, bacon, and potatoes, topped off with fruit, pastries and juice. She'd insisted they all come dressed to the table, their hair brushed, their faces washed, ready to face the day.

    The man in front of her wasn't the father she remembered from those days. He hadn't bothered to wash his face or brush his hair. She wasn't even sure when he'd last taken a shower or gone in to work. She certainly hadn't seen him at the cafe in days. What on earth was he doing with his time? As she watched him drink his orange juice, she knew she had her answer.

    Clearing her throat, she said, "Why don't I make us some breakfast? Would you like scrambled eggs, an
omelette
, maybe some pancakes?"

    He leaned against the counter and gave her a bleary smile. "Your mother used to make pancakes, blueberry pancakes. Those were her favorite."

    "I know," she said gently.

    He sipped his juice halfway down the glass, licking his lips at the end. She should say something, but the words didn't want to come. Instead, she said, "I could try to make blueberry pancakes. I might have to run down to the store and get some berries, though." She got up from her chair and looked through his cabinets. She was shocked to see how empty they were. "Dad, you don't have any food in the house. What have you been eating?"

    "Your aunts take care of me," he said with a shrug. "I don't feel like cooking anymore."

    Which meant a lot coming from a man who made his living running a restaurant and prided himself on turning out good, quality food. "Is that why you haven't been down at the restaurant lately?"

    "I'm tired of working," he said heavily. "Tired of so many things." He walked over to the table and sat down.

    "Is there anything I can do to help?"

    He shook his head. "I'll be all right. I'm worried about you and Julia. I think she should stay here, too, although I'm sure Michael wants to take care of her."

    Liz saw the question in his eyes and damned Julia for once again not being here to do her own dirty work. She returned to her chair, trying to think of what to say. In the end, she just gave it to him straight. "Michael and Julia broke up last night."

    Her father appeared truly shocked by the news. "What?" he stuttered. "How? Why?"

    She didn't know which question to answer first. "I'm not sure why, but certainly Julia's push to find the missing pieces of her past didn't help. After Michael saw our apartment last night, he begged her to give up the search. She said she couldn't. She's obsessed, Dad, determined to find the truth. The past twenty-something years don't matter to her as much as the first three or four years of her life that she can't remember. And she seems to have forgotten how good Michael was to her through Mom's illness and how perfect Mom thought Michael was for her." Liz blew out a breath of frustration. "I don't get it. I can't understand why she'd let him go. Maybe he was rushing her a bit, but good grief, they've been together over a year. It's not exactly lightning speed."

    "Your mother would be disappointed," Gino said. "And not just in Julia, but in me. I've let my daughter down."

    "How do you figure that?"

    "I should have paid more attention to what Julia was doing. I should have guided her more."

    "It's not your fault. It's Julia's. She's the one making these foolish decisions. She really hurt Michael. I went to his house last night. He was drinking himself into oblivion." As she said the words Liz wondered if her father would see the parallel between Michael and himself. They were both choosing to dull their pain with alcohol. The problem was that once the alcohol wore off, the pain came back.

    Gino didn't appear to make the connection. He finished his juice and got up to make another drink. She should say something, she told herself again. But right now her dad was the only one she had to talk to, and that would end if she attacked his drinking.

    "Julia is changing right before my eyes," Liz continued. "Can't you make her stop, Dad? I think she'd listen to you."

    He put up a hand. "I can't make her stop. I don't know who her biological father is, but if she is determined to find him, then she should be allowed to do so."

    "It's disrespectful to you. You raised her. You treated her like your own daughter."

    "And that's the way I think of her. She's my daughter, and I want her to be happy. I'm sorry about Michael, though. He's a good man."

    "It's not just her biological father she's interested in," Liz continued. "It's Mom's past as well. Julia is convinced that she's that girl in the picture, which means she had to be in Russia when she was three years old. That means Mom would have had to be there, too. How could that have happened?"

    Gino gave a helpless shake of his head. "I can't imagine…"

    Liz hesitated to voice her next thought, but she couldn't seem to stop it from coming out. "Do you think Mom could have adopted Julia?"

    Gino sent her an angry glare. "No," he said firmly. "Absolutely not. It's impossible. They were close, like two peas in a pod, when I met them. And Sarah would have told me if she'd adopted Julia. She was always honest. She never lied about anything. Don't you remember her telling you over and over that the truth would never get you into trouble-only a lie would do that?"

    Liz nodded. She remembered that well. Now she couldn't help wondering if different rules had applied to her mother. "There has to be some reason why Julia looks like that girl."

    "It's a coincidence," he said, pouring more orange juice. "Julia was four and a half years old when I met her. I would have noticed if she was speaking Russian."

    "That's true," Liz said, relieved. "If she was a Russian orphan, she would have been speaking Russian.

    Of course. Why didn't I think of that? I feel so much better now."

    "Julia did have her own little odd way of talking, though," he said with a fond smile. "And she had an imaginary friend she was always whispering to."

    Liz's good mood dimmed. "What do you mean, her own way of talking?"

    "She'd jumble up words so sometimes they didn't make sense. It was just a phase she went through. It passed. I'm sure you did the same thing. You know how kids talk."

    "Yeah, you're probably right." She stiffened as the buzzer rang in the apartment. "I'll get it." She walked over to the intercom. "Yes?"

    "It's Julia. Can you let me up?"

    Liz pushed the button and glanced over at her father in time to see him pour more vodka into his glass. She drew in a breath and walked out to the living room to answer the door. She wasn't surprised to see Alex standing behind Julia. The two seemed to be joined at the hip these days.

    "Hi," Julia said, offering her a tentative smile. "How are you, Lizzie? I called you a couple of times last night, but you never answered your phone."

    "I was busy. I do have a life, too, you know."

    "How's Dad?" Julia asked, as she and Alex entered the apartment. "I want to talk to him."

    "You better talk to him soon. He's in the kitchen sipping vodka and orange juice."

    "It's nine o'clock in the morning."

    Liz shrugged. "He's a little bothered by all the turmoil. You know, break-ins, pictures in the newspaper; his oldest daughter searching for her past in Russia, of all places."

    Julia's mouth tightened. "You don't have to be sarcastic, Liz. I know this is very upsetting for everyone, especially you and Dad."

    "And Michael. He was also drinking last night." Liz sent Alex a sharp look. "You better watch yourself. Julia has a way of driving all the men in her life to drink."

    "Liz!"

    "I'm sorry, but it's true." Liz felt a twinge of remorse for her harsh words, but she didn't intend to apologize to Julia. Her sister was the one who had stirred up their perfectly happy lives. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you didn't want to bring trouble to Dad."

    "I don't, but I need to look through Mom's papers."

    "Julia, is that you?" Gino asked, as he stumbled into the living room. "Are you all right? I've been so worried."

    "I'm fine, Dad." Julia gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Is everything all right here?"

    "Life goes on," he said with a fatalistic shrug of his shoulders. His eyes narrowed in on Alex. "Who's your friend?"

    "I'm sorry, this is Alex Manning," Julia replied. "His father took the photo of the orphan girl. He's helping me find the truth."

    Gino stuck out his hand, and Alex shook it. Liz couldn't believe her father was acting so welcoming. She didn't feel nearly as charitable. As far as she was concerned, Alex Manning was egging Julia on. Maybe if he hadn't been in the picture, Julia would have backed off a lot sooner.

    "Do you mind if I take a look through Mom's papers?" Julia asked her father. "It's a long shot, but maybe there's something in there."

    "Of course," he said. "I have nothing to hide. I don't think your mother did, either. She adored you. You were her baby."

    Liz was relieved to hear her father tell Julia that. Someone needed to shake up her sister, remind her of the way life used to be.

    "I know she loved me," Julia said, a troubled expression in her eyes. "But some things don't add up. I just want to make them add up."

    "I don't want your curiosity to lead you into more danger," Gino said. "You should stay here. I thought Michael was protecting you, but Liz tells me that you've split up."

    "Yes. It just wasn't working out. I know you liked him very much. But I feel sure it was the right decision for both of us."

    Gino nodded. "It's your life to live, Julia, but Michael is a good man. Your mother loved him."