Family Matters (13 page)

Matt tensed. If J.J. had lied about his gang affiliation, or had gone into drugs, what would that do to Kerry's faith in her judgment?

Worse, as much as she cared about her students, especially J.J., what would that do to Kerry?

“It's my mom,” J.J. burst out. “She's got to kick Hector out. She says she can't—he pays some of the bills. But if I get a full-time job, I can help her. She could get him out of the apartment. Out of our life.”

Matt nodded. “You don't think Ms. MacBride has the right to know what's going on? Not to talk you into or out of any
thing. But I'm sure she did a lot to help you get where you are.”

“She did. And I'm throwing it all away,” he said bitterly.

“I'm not saying that, J.J. Just think about talking it over with Ms. MacBride, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I'll be back in a couple minutes.”

He left the Jeep and headed up the walk to his mom's apartment, mentally replaying the conversations he'd had with J.J. and not seeing a problem with any of them. Their talks had only confirmed what Kerry had told him—J.J. was a good kid.

And not only did he and J.J. have similar backgrounds, their situations now were even more alike than he had realized.

The boy wanted to help his mother.

How could Matt find fault in that?

 

M
ATT WENT UP THE APARTMENT
stairs two at a time. He should have let his mom know yesterday that he was in town again. But once he'd seen Kerry, everything else had flown out of his head.

She had needed his help at the amusement park, whether she would admit it or not. He'd been right in saying they hadn't seen any of the adult MacBrides around. She'd been right when she'd come back with the remark about seeing too much of the younger ones.

He didn't think he'd ever get tired of looking at Kerry.

And that had almost led to disaster.

Last night, alone with her on the pier, he'd done a hell of a lot besides look—he'd touched and tasted and wanted more. Who knows what would have happened if J.J. hadn't shown up?

He'd owed that kid breakfast this morning.

Shaking his head, he came to a stop in front of his mom's
door and rang the bell. The echo had faded away inside the apartment before he heard footsteps tapping on the uncarpeted entryway. After another minute, the door opened, revealing his mom staring at him wide-eyed.

“Matthew! My goodness—I didn't expect you.”

“I know. I would have called, but it was late when I got things settled.”

“Is everything all right?” She pressed one hand against the edge of the door, lifted the other to her throat as if she'd lost her breath in surprise.

“Everything's fine.” Seeing him seemed even more of a shock for her than he'd expected. He should have called first. “Do you think we could continue this conversation inside?”

“Of course.” She opened the door wide and stepped back.

He entered, then froze in his tracks, staring over her shoulder.

Across her small living room in her even smaller dining area, looking guiltier than a bank teller with his hand in the till—and what an appropriate comparison
that
was—sat the last person he wanted to see.

Brendan MacBride.

No wonder Mom had looked so surprised.

“You've got company.” He deliberately kept his tone flat.

“Come in, come in,” MacBride said, as if he owned the place.

“A little early for a social call, isn't it?”

“Not social, lad. We're just discussing a few things about the park.”

“That's right,” his mom put in.

Matt took his time eyeing the table, its surface cluttered with coffee mugs, plates, sugar bowl and creamer. “Business breakfast, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Grinning, MacBride rose, sidestepped around
the table and started across the room. “Always best to discuss business on a full stomach.”

Exactly what Matt had often heard his father say.

He glared.

MacBride sidestepped again, this time around his mother, keeping her between them as he edged toward the door. “Well, I'll be off now, Olivia. Matthew, a pleasure to have you back again. I'm sure I'll see you over at the park.”

“Will you? I was around yesterday and our paths didn't cross.”

“Oh, but they will sure enough today. Kerry's got a painting party lined up for the lot of us. Work to be done, y'know.”

“I know.” That was all he said. It was enough.

MacBride nodded and slithered into the hall.

Matt would have looked out to make sure he'd really gone, but his mom's voice distracted him.

“You were here yesterday, Matthew, and didn't tell me?”

“Sorry. I would have called, but I got busy helping Kerry out at the pier, and then it was late.”

“But where did you stay? With Kerry?”

He stared. She'd sounded pleased at the idea, and not a bit put out that he hadn't stayed with her. He shook his head again.

Everything in his life had gone wacky since he'd met the MacBride clan.

He told her about taking his vacation time
and
taking on a new roommate. “We're heading over now to start work.”

“Good, then I'll see you later.”

To his surprise, she practically pushed him through the doorway. She seemed in a hurry to get him to leave—and that wasn't like his mom at all.

It wasn't until he was outside again, climbing into the Jeep with J.J., that a possible reason for her actions struck him.

Maybe she wanted him out of the apartment because there
were other signs, along with the littered breakfast table-for-two, that she didn't want him to see.

 

W
HEN
M
ATT AND
J.J. arrived at the pier, Matt looked twice as angry as Kerry had ever seen him.

“I'm going to walk off my breakfast,” he muttered, then stalked away from them.

At least he'd delivered J.J. to her before leaving. She wondered what had gotten him so upset. She wondered if he planned to help out at the pier today.

“What's wrong, J.J.?”

He shrugged. “Don't know. He was fine till we stopped at his ma's. I waited outside. He was only in there five minutes.”

She would have to worry about Matt later. Her volunteers would be showing up any minute, and she had to talk to J.J. He'd been adamant the night before about not going home. She needed to find out why.

When she questioned him, he seemed genuinely excited about the idea of helping to bring the old amusement park back to life. She wished she could have put some of that levelheaded enthusiasm into her brothers.

It didn't take her long to find out that, as she had thought, J.J. wanted some relief from his home situation. He assured her he hadn't been in touch with any of the members of the gang he'd once belonged to.

“Told you that the other day, Ms. MacBride. I just want to get away from Hector for a while.” He kicked lightly at a cardboard carton. “You know, I try telling Ma he's no good, but she don't want to listen.”

“I know, J.J. Some people need more time for a wake-up call, like the one you had about Benny and the guys.” She paused, wanting to ask him about his plans for the future, about starting college in the fall. But until he straightened out
his current situation, he probably couldn't look any further ahead than this.

“You're leaving on your trip soon, huh?” he said.

She hesitated, then admitted, “No. There have been some changes to my plans.”

He stared at her.

“It's a long story, J.J.” She sighed to herself, recalling her phone call yesterday. In one brief transatlantic call, she'd abandoned her fellowship, her trip to Europe and her hard-earned summer vacation. Today's painting marathon would probably be the closest she'd get to any artwork this summer. The worst of it was, this was all her own doing! “The amusement park took priority,” she told him.

“I want to help, Ms. MacBride,” J.J. said quietly, his voice strained. “You gonna let me stay?”

She noted his furrowed brow and clenched fingers. And couldn't miss the sight of his discolored, swollen eye. Thankfully, she saw it had improved considerably overnight.

“Yes,” she said finally. “For now, anyway, and we'll see how it goes. But you have to promise me you'll call your mother and let her know where you are.”

He nodded, a relieved grin lightening his worried expression.

She'd be talking to his mom, too.

“You want me to organize some of this stuff?” he asked eagerly, gesturing to the boxes stacked against the far wall.

“Yes, that's next on the agenda.” She told him about relocating their “headquarters” to the storage room. Smiling, she thought of what he had interrupted when he'd arrived the night before. But she needed to stay focused. On J.J. “I wish you'd been here yesterday when we moved all these supplies over here.”

“I'm here now.”

“That you are.” She hesitated again. Unable to keep her
thoughts from Matt, she added, “Everything go all right last night?”

“Yeah. We stopped at that Grill place this morning. Great food.” His eyes widened at the memory.

She laughed. “Good. Then you're all fueled up to get to work—so get to it.”

He raised his fingertips to his backward ball cap in a salute. “You got it.” Immediately, he turned to his task.

If only all her problems could be handed off to someone else that easily.

Bracing herself, she took a long, deep breath. Then she headed out to search for Matt.

To Kerry's surprise, she found Matt wielding a paint scraper on one of the booths along the pier. At her approach, he looked up, then turned back. Funny, how
his
enthusiasm for work didn't please her as much as J.J.'s had.

“This is a dirty job,” she commented.

“Someone's got to do it. The sooner we get this place in shape…”

She winced, even though he'd left the sentence dangling.

She still hadn't broken the news to Uncle Bren about selling the park. And, obviously, Matt still hadn't changed his mind about his ultimatum. But he'd given her sixty days. She had time to work everything out—starting right now with discovering just what was upsetting Matt.

“Everything okay?” she asked innocently.

“Fine.”

“You and J.J. hit it off?”

“Yeah, we talked some last night and then again over breakfast. He seems like a bright kid.”

“He is.”

Still not meeting her eyes, he grabbed a long-handled broom and began sweeping up strips of peeled paint.

What had made such a difference in him from the night before, when he'd kissed her and walked off holding her hand? Something must have happened at his mother's house,
according to J.J., but how could she ask about that? Not directly, judging by the scowl on Matt's face now.

She heard voices in the distance, the sounds of her volunteers setting up for work for the day. Who knew when she'd get a chance to talk privately again with Matt?

Crossing her fingers, she took the plunge. “J.J. told me you stopped by your mom's this morning. Was she surprised to see you?”

“You might say that,” he replied sourly.

She looked at him.

He made a sound like a bull right before the charge. “I don't know who was more surprised—my mom or your uncle. What the hell was he doing over at her house so early in the morning?”

She felt a twinge of guilt. Why, she didn't know. She couldn't be held responsible for her uncle's actions.

Then why was she taking on the responsibility for what he had done? Why had she given up her dream yet again to save her family?

Why had she let herself believe in a
new
dream last night—one that could never come true? Her feelings about Matt were shaking her up, confusing her emotions, making her forget her priorities. She uncrossed her fingers. She didn't need luck right now, she needed a sledgehammer.

“How early could it have been?” she asked in a level tone. “You and J.J. didn't get here until eight. Did you go there before breakfast?”

“No, we stopped on the way over here.”

Then it wasn't the middle of the night.
Seeing the dark look on Matt's face, and already aware of how he felt about Uncle Bren, she knew better than to voice the thought.

“They probably have things to discuss about the park,” she said soothingly, then could have kicked herself. Why hadn't
she kept her mouth shut this time, too? Matt was too quick not to jump on her statement.

“What could they have to talk about?” he demanded, finally turning to look at her. “No one's seen your uncle around since you took over this…this project from him. It's as if he's washed his hands of the whole thing.”

“I would think that would make you happy.”

“Not if he's putting his washed hands—and his moves—on my mom instead,” he muttered.

“Oh, Matt.” She would have smiled, except she could see how genuinely upset he looked at the situation. There was something underlying his emotion about this; she was sure of it. “They're adults. I don't think we have any say in what they do.”

He glowered.

“Or don't do,” she added hastily. “You're jumping to conclusions.”

“Is that right?” he demanded loudly.

“Matt,” she protested, glancing over her shoulder. No one in listening distance yet. She'd have to be quick—and more blunt than she would ordinarily—if she wanted to finish this conversation before Matt's voice attracted everyone in the area. “What's wrong?” she demanded. “Why are you always so angry? Is it really all about my uncle, or is something else going on?”

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak.

She held her breath—and her temper—and waited.

Matt had the uncomfortable sensation that he'd just taken the witness stand.

Kerry's uncle, with his conniving ways, was problem number one. But her probing questions had hit home. It wasn't just her uncle that had set him off. It was something more.

He stared at her.

She looked unblinkingly back at him, her head tilted a
little to one side, her brows arched and waiting. She wanted to know what was going on with him.

How willing was he to tell her the deep, dark secret he'd never shared with anyone? Not very willing.

Then again, he felt a connection with her he'd never felt with anyone. That became the deciding factor, the thought that pushed him over the edge.

“J.J.'s situation raises ghosts for me,” he admitted finally.

She said nothing, but he could see understanding in her eyes.

He went on. “His story about Hector reminds me of growing up with my father. He wasn't abusive—at least, not physically. But he always got what he wanted.”

“Controlling?” she asked quietly.

“Not even that.” He frowned. “He made all the decisions but somehow made them seem they were
our
ideas, mine and Mom's. It sounds backward, I know, but it was as if we didn't have minds of our own. I was a kid, I could take it—I didn't even understand it back then. But it made Mom nuts.”

“Which is why you're so protective of her now?” she murmured.

“Probably.”

Who was he kidding? Definitely, the goal was to take care of her now. The softness in Kerry's face showed she realized that.

“Wanting to take care of someone isn't a bad thing, Matt.”

“It is if you carry it to extremes.”

“Yes, that's true. And it sounds like your father did.”

“He sure as hell did.” He wielded the broom furiously, not wanting to say the words that threatened to spill out of him. Not wanting to keep them in, either. Or maybe just no longer willing to deal with his demons on his own. “I don't want to be like him.”

“You're not. Not the way you describe him.”

“I've tried not to be. I've lived my life trying to help other people, not tear them down the way he did. Trying to build their independence, to keep them from getting into the kind of situation I lived with.” He had to say the words. “But I could be like him. Maybe I
will
be.” He tightened his grip on the broom. “Maybe I'm already recreating history.”

“Is that what you're afraid of?” she asked softly.

“It's possible,” he said, knowing if he didn't get it out now he might never make the admission. From all around them, he heard voices, shouts and laughter. The volunteers were ready to begin their day.

And he was ready to talk, to put everything in the open this one time. “I've run from it. Always. But the trouble with trying to outrun your past is that it takes you closer to your future. To your destiny.”

“But that's not necessary. There's nothing for you to outrun. You're not your father.”

“I'm my father's son.”

“No. Your father's kind of behavior is learned, not an inherited trait. He learned how to manipulate people to get what he wanted. He chose to be that way. You have a choice not to.”

He shook his head, but that did nothing to clear his confusion or send his fear away.

Kerry moved forward, putting herself in his line of vision. “You're a lawyer, Matt. Every time you go into court, aren't
you
trying to convince a judge or a jury to think a certain way? Aren't
you
trying to influence their decisions?”

He frowned in surprise. He'd never thought of it like that.

“You are like your father in a way, Matt. But in a
good
way. You're not using others against themselves to get what
you want. You're helping your clients. Innocent people who deserve justice.”

She'd nailed it with that, had put into words what he'd always wanted. What he'd always believed.

But he couldn't shake those other beliefs he'd grown up holding on to.

“What you're dealing with is not heredity, Matt. It's nature versus nurture, the man you
are
against the role model you were brought up with.”

Her blue eyes had zeroed in on him as if she could convince him by the intensity of her stare alone.

“Take J.J. as an example,” she insisted. “You don't know a tenth of what he's gone through. He's grown up with a series of men in his life, men who lived temporarily with his mother. They weren't all very nice—in fact, most of them weren't. You see J.J.'s black eye. I'm betting Hector's aim wasn't off at all. He
wanted
to hit J.J.”

“That's inexcusable. But that's not the situation here.” He didn't know why he protested when he'd already seen the parallels himself.

“It's a similar situation,” she insisted. “My point is, as badly as those men in his life treated J.J., look at how he's turned out. Look at how he tries to make the right decisions.”

“Joining up with a gang?” he asked skeptically.

“He made a mistake and corrected it. It's in his past now. That's what makes him better than a man like your father. That's what makes you a better man, too.”

Unconvinced, he shook his head.

“We're not necessarily a product of our parents, Matt.”

He looked away.

She put her hand over his. “Do you want to know how I know this?” She didn't wait for him to respond. “I've already told you my parents were archaeologists. Mom and Dad were in South America, on a dig that had already yielded some
important new finds. They took a risk, a stupid risk because they were eager to move ahead without taking the right precautions. They didn't stop to analyze the setup or to think about the consequences. To realize that if something happened to them, they would be leaving five children behind.”

Matt swallowed hard. Emotion laced her tone, but it was the unseeing look in her eyes that frightened him, that told him she was off at that dig, reliving something that had changed her world completely. That unseeing look made him forget his own worries, made him want only to console her.

“At that moment,” she continued, “they didn't care about anything but the excitement of their excavation and their fabulous find. So they made a bad decision. The last of a series of bad decisions, over the years, including giving up responsibility for their own children. The decision they made that day at the excavation was final—and fatal.”

After a long, unbroken silence, he murmured, “What happened?”

“They were killed in a cave-in,” she said bluntly.

Finally, she came back to him. Her eyes focused in again, soft blue and sad now.

“The only thing that kept me going was telling myself I didn't have to follow in my parents' footsteps. And,” she added gently, “neither do you. You're a
good
man, Matt. Don't be so rough on yourself.”

Before he could say anything, she turned and walked away.

He swallowed hard, had to stop himself from calling out to her. From taking her into his arms.

Kerry had argued as passionately before him as he'd ever done in front of a jury. She was right in so many ways, it was as if she'd looked directly into his head and his heart.

The realization shook him, just as powerfully as hearing her story had done.

No wonder she had so much compassion for her family, her students. And him.

No wonder he'd opened up to her completely.

That
realization didn't shake him—it scared the hell out of him. Letting down his guard could prove deadly to all the plans he had for his life, all the things he believed in.

But how would he ever find the strength to put that guard back in place?

 

“W
E'VE DONE A HELLUVA
day's work here, Kerry,” Albie Gardner announced, rocking back on his heels and beaming at her.

“We have,” she agreed, smiling and looking around at the volunteers nearly filling that end of the pier.

All day, she had tried to focus on her responsibilities, on overseeing her workforce, on keeping an eye on her wayward brothers. J.J., a tremendous help, needed no supervision and had already become a well-liked member of the team.

But throughout the day, all she could seem to do was think about Matt.

They were together, yet not together as she watched over the major painting project that had gotten underway that morning. Somehow, their paths never seemed to intersect. She'd seen him only from a distance. Even now, as the entire crew gathered for their end-of-day wrap-up, he kept himself apart from the rest of the crowd.

Apart from her.

The thought crossed her mind that he was avoiding her out of embarrassment for sharing his story with her that morning. She could understand that; she'd felt the same after telling him about her mom and dad.

Uncle Bren waved at her and grinned. He had shown up this morning, with Olivia on his arm, to help paint.

That
probably explained Matt's behavior.

While Albie gathered everyone near the game booths, she stared down at her clipboard.

After hearing Matt's story, she realized the source of his anger about Uncle Bren's unreliability, understood his unyielding attitude over the amusement park restoration. Seeing him in this new light made her appreciate him more than she had already.

Not that it would get her anywhere.

Matt's feelings about her family made it useless to hope for a relationship with him.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the group assembled around her. “All right,” she announced, “let's make this short and sweet and go home after a great day's work. Your effort was outstanding and our progress is phenomenal.”