Her Unlikely Family (10 page)

“I just don't appreciate gifts given for the wrong reasons. It brings back hurtful memories—of being bought off by my dad.”

“If Uncle Michael was buying you off, he'd pull out a wad of money, not go get you something at a jewelry store.”

“You wouldn't understand, Lisa.”

“Wanna bet? I always get the Christmas, birthday and Easter guilt-offerings. And he never once got
me
something handmade, something that he picked out.”

Josie's conscience pricked. Plus, her faucets were trying to turn on again.

“Enough,” Josie said. “Hop out and watch for Mike. He'll probably get lost trying to find us.”

 

Michael couldn't believe Josie had invited him into her home after the way she had acted at the mall. Yet here he sat at one end of the couch with her at the other. He also couldn't believe he had been stupid enough to buy her such a personal gift. As Lisa had said, jewelry usually meant something serious, not merely thank you.

But one minute he had been in the shop looking at the amber set, comparing it to Josie's pieces of jewelry, then the next he'd been picturing her wearing it.

The stones were set in dangly silver, and he always thought of amber as a slice of history. It had seemed like a combination Josie would like.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Thanks for letting me come inside to tell Lisa good-night,” he said.

“No problem.” She seemed ready to say something more but stopped.

“I should probably get back to my room and check in with Gary.”

“Gary?”

“My brother. He's filling in for me at the bank. I need to check in on a new construction loan.”

“Business must be good.”

“It is. And Gary just reeled in a reluctant new client while I was here.”

She studied him until he had to look away.

“I'm afraid I was the problem all along,” Michael said. “Gary and Tom must have hit it off at their dinner meeting.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No, don't be. It's good news. I had been working on him for months.”

“Then that must make it even harder.”

Why was she trying to take something positive and make it sound as if it had hurt his feelings? It hadn't.

A tightness in his chest reminded him otherwise. “I guess you're right. It's hard on the pride.”

He observed the funky picture on the wall once again. Then he slapped his legs. “Well, I should go. You've got an early morning tomorrow, I'm sure.”

As he rose from the couch, she put her hand on his arm and guided him back down. “Stay for a minute. I need to talk to you about the necklace and earrings.”

“I'm really sorry about offending you with the gift,” he said, wondering why she'd brought it up again.

Her big brown eyes appeared very serious. “No. I shouldn't have overreacted. It's just that my dad always bought me gifts.”

Michael didn't get the connection.

“But they were only to make up for him never being around. They were a pitiful substitute for the affection I needed so badly.”

“Were your parents divorced?”

She chuckled, but it was more a sound of irony. “No. But it's a miracle they weren't. He worked all the time. And traveled lots.”

“That's interesting,” Michael said. “My dad did the same thing. Either that, or he took me to the bank with him to assuage his parental guilt.”

He remembered being six years old, waiting for his father to come out of a long meeting in the boardroom. “I hated it.”

“I'm sorry,” she said for about the third time. “I reacted to my old insecurities when, really, my main concern is that I don't want Lisa feeling as if you've bought my friendship for her.”

“I can understand that. Thanks for explaining. I'm just sorry for bringing up bad memories for you this evening.”

“I'm okay. Don't worry about it.”

“I have no idea why I bought you the jewelry in the first place. I never buy gifts. I always send my secretary to do it.”

She smiled, lifting the heaviness from the room. “I'm impressed. You showed more spontaneity than I've given you credit for.”

He laughed. “You're right. And I enjoyed it. Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out the business card. “I talked to the woman working at the boutique today about how talented you are. She said she would be willing to look at your work. They sell some on consignment.”

Josie sucked in her breath.

“Now, before you get mad at me for interfering in your business, let me say that you could make the money to buy the diner a lot sooner if you sold jewelry on the side.”

“Did she really say I could contact them?”

“She really did. And you should have seen the prices on bracelets similar to yours.”

“I know.” Josie grinned. “I have a confession to make.”

With that smile, he couldn't imagine it was anything too horrible. “Okay. Fess up.”

“I've been in that jewelry boutique many times. In fact, I've admired several pieces by that artist.”

“Then you know how high the markup is.”

She hesitated. “There's more.”

One side of his mouth quirked up. “Then by all means, do tell.”

Her gaze darted to the front door. “I've wanted that amber necklace and earrings for months.”

“You're kidding.”

“No, I'm not. Looks like you've got good taste.”

Amazing.
The silence drew out as she smiled at him.

“Thank you for talking to the woman,” she said almost in a whisper.

He could swear her eyes got teary. But she didn't well up and actually cry. “For what? All I did was get a business card for you.”

“For saying I'm talented. And for going to the trouble.”

His face warmed, and he studied the decor around him. “I would gladly give the necklace and earrings to you now, but I don't want to risk upsetting you again.”

“After I treated you so badly, I don't deserve them.”

“Nonsense. You deserve the gift for…well, just for being Josie Miller.”

She laughed like the peal of a bell. “Are you serious? You'd still give them to me after I've been such an ingrate?”

“What would I do with them? They screamed your name as soon as I saw them.”

She sobered as she cocked her head to the side. “I know. I thought the same thing the first time I laid eyes on the set.”

“Then you have to have them.” He hopped up, patted his pocket to find his keys. “Be right back. Don't move.”

He hurried outside, retrieved the bag, then bounded back up the front steps. Slightly out of breath, he handed it to her. “You're meant to be together.”

She carefully, almost worshipfully, pulled out the velvet box. Once she'd removed the earrings and put them in her ears, she grinned, then shook her head to send them swinging. She removed the necklace and held it up to him. “Would you do the honors?”

He swallowed an irrational lump of fear. He could handle being close to her. “Of course.”

She stood and turned her back to him.

He draped the necklace in front of her. “Lift your hair.”

Once she did, he struggled to fasten the little hook.

“Can you get it?”

“My fingers are rather large and clumsy for this tiny latch.”

Just as she let go of her hair and started to face him, he caught the loop, fastening the necklace in place. “Got it.”

She completed turning toward him, still within the circle of his arms. “Thanks.”

His hands didn't seem to want to move from under the soft curls at her neck. “You're welcome.” He stood there stupidly, having no idea what to do next. She was close enough to—

“Are you thinking of kissing me?” she asked, head cocked, as if she might ask the time of day.

He snapped his hands back to his sides. Had he been that easy to read? She didn't look happy at the prospect, and he couldn't afford to offend her again today. If he did, she might tell him to forget the deal to help with Lisa. “I, uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to send that message.”

Her eyes narrowed, putting a crease between her troubled brown eyes. He wasn't about to stick around and let his rude behavior mess up what had turned into a nice evening.

“I should go call Gary. Thanks again for taking me shopping with Lisa.”

He hurried out the door.

Josie watched the door shut behind him. As she stood there in her dream necklace and earrings, tears scalded her cheeks.

She'd been so sure he was going to kiss her. And, beyond all reason, she'd been thrilled. But then she'd had to open her big mouth, and suddenly he'd been apologizing for sending the wrong message.

Well, which message was true?

It shouldn't matter. I promised Lisa I wouldn't fall for Mike.

She touched the round stone hanging near her heart.
Lord, I'm fed up with this roller coaster of feelings for Mike. One minute, I think he's the worst thing since my dad. Then the next, I think he's the best, most sensitive man, and that maybe You've brought him into my life for a reason. Give me clear vision here. And remind me that my calling is to help Lisa.

“No more wishy-washy, Josie,” she said quietly to the still room. “You've got to stay strong and do everything for Lisa. And Lisa only.”

E
verything's for Lisa. Everything's for Lisa.
The mantra repeated over and over in Josie's mind as she searched her closet the next afternoon after work.

“What's up?” Lisa leaned on the door frame to Josie's bedroom.

“I'm looking for something for us to wear tonight.”

“For me, too?”

“Yep.” Josie tossed a sweater on the bed.

“Why?”

“We're going out to dinner with Mike.”

“No big deal. Why change clothes?”

“Because it's time you learn to live in your world instead of fighting it. Here.” She handed Lisa a plaid wool skirt—timeless, classic cut, subdued colors.

“Ick.”

“Don't ‘ick' my old clothes. I was thinner a few years ago, so they should fit you pretty well.”

Lisa looked at the label. “It's my size.” Then her eyebrows arched. “And I recognize the brand.”

“I've hung on to a few nice things. From way back.”

“Before you started saving for the diner?”

“Yes. Before I even moved here, my mom used to buy only the best. To impress her friends.”

“Sounds like Grandmother.” Lisa wadded the skirt in her fist. “I guess I could, like, put a cool belt with this thing. And a decent top.”

“As long as it's not black.” Josie tossed Lisa a pair of tights. “Let's surprise Mike tonight. I've got reservations at a fancy restaurant, so let's try to fit in for a change.”

Lisa grinned. “I'll try.”

“Lisa. I'm serious about making this night work. Don't do anything to aggravate him.”

“Hey, if you'll make yourself fit in, then I'll give it my best shot, too.”

As much as it galled Josie to sit in a ritzy restaurant and play the part, she could do it. She might be out of practice, but it would come back to her.

She rooted around near the back of her closet and came up with a gauzy print skirt that hit at her ankles. It would do if she could dress it up. She held it in front of her. “Whadaya think?”

“It's perfect, Josie. Not too wild, not too stuffy.”

Wild and stuffy. Opposite ends of the spectrum. Just like her and Mike.

If she were lucky, Mike would really botch the evening. That way she wouldn't feel drawn to his gentle, more vulnerable side. To his thoughtful side—the one that had brought her the business card.

Of course, thanks to him, she now entertained grand visions of making extra income off something she'd always thought of as a hobby.

Her jewelry.

And that could get her the diner sooner. All her life, she'd wanted to have her very own business. The idea of ordering her world, of being in charge of everything from inventory to payroll, appealed to her.

The diner had fallen into her life at the perfect time. She'd finally been ready to settle in one place. She and Bud had hit it off from day one. He'd even been near retirement and wanted to sell to her.

The restaurant was small enough for her to handle on her own. And she loved the place. Then when the day was done, she looked forward to her beads, her tools, her metals.

She knew, realistically, she couldn't live off the proceeds from selling jewelry. But she could earn a nice income on the side.

All thanks to Mike, who'd had faith in her talent.

Josie jammed the hanger back into the closet.
Botch this dinner, Mike. Please, botch it.

 

As Michael knotted his tie, he called to quickly check in with Gary. Mason was still happy, and Michael was able to report a little progress with Lisa. But he had to run. Josie had phoned to say Lesson Number Two was that night—dinner for three. And that he should dress in his church clothes.

He chuckled, picturing them back at the hamburger joint in their Sunday best. His stomach growled as he jogged out to the car. He was supposed to meet the ladies at the restaurant, so he needed to hurry. Josie had said to be prompt. Actually, she'd said, “Don't be late, or I'll make you pick up the tab.” Which he intended to do anyway. She'd said she'd made reservations at a nice restaurant. Of course, her idea of nice and his idea of nice might be two totally different things.

After a short drive following Josie's directions, he pulled in the parking lot of the eating establishment. He couldn't tell what kind of place it was from the outside. It was rustic. Quaint. But the quality of food and service would be the deciding factor.

He walked in and peered around. As he approached the hostess station, the door of the restaurant opened behind him. He turned to see a woman walk in. When she looked up, his heart skittered.

It was Josie. At least he thought it was. As she approached—a smile assuring him it was really her—he goggled at her appearance. Her hair was pinned up in some exotic style that left ringlets cascading around her face and neck. Her skirt more than covered her knees and flowed gracefully around her. The blouse had feminine ruffles and a demure neckline. Yet the outfit worked on Josie because it was gypsy-like.

And she wore the necklace and earrings he'd given her.

“Wow.” It was all he could manage.

She twirled around. “Thank you.”

“Where's Lisa?”

“She's not far behind me. I made her dress up, too.”

“Did it infuriate her?”

“More like embarrassed. I reminded her she wouldn't know a soul here.”

The door opened, and a panicked Lisa peeked her green head in. No matter what she wore, it wouldn't change the fact that she had that wild head of hair. Although, she had smoothed it tonight. No spikes.

He motioned her in. She obeyed. And as with Josie, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Self-consciously, arms crossed in front of her, Lisa walked to where they stood. She wore the outfit of a prep-school coed. A knee-length plaid skirt. Tailored red blouse. Stockings and flat shoes. The only concession Josie had allowed was a belt that looked like a chain, and not nearly as dainty as Josie's new one. He expected to see a padlock holding it together.

“Wow, Lisa,” he said.

“Don't say a word. I know I look stupid.”

“Not at all. You look…”

“See, you can't even come up with words bad enough.”

“No, seriously…” He looked past her green hair to the girl. To the young woman who was stripped of her rebellious, protective shell at the moment. A pain knifed his chest. “You look beautiful.”

The hopeful look she gave him intensified the stab. “You're not just saying that?”

“No. It's like I can see more of the real you. And you're beautiful.”

“So black's not my color?” She smiled and her arms relaxed until she loosely clutched her hands in front of herself.

“I'm afraid not. Though I know you love it.”

She shrugged. “I can live without it.”

Josie beamed at him. “Then maybe Mike can take you shopping all by himself and get you some nice bright clothes. Red is great on you.”

“I'll think about it,” Lisa said, fighting a smile.

“We're ready for the Miller party,” the hostess said. “Follow me.”

The next hour and a half was one of the most pleasant Michael had ever spent. The food was excellent, the service impeccable. And the conversation easy. In fact, it had been rather entertaining.

Josie had been her usual fun self, yet she'd handled the evening as if she weren't at all nervous. He had expected her to be uncomfortable in this setting. Something she'd said previously about going to Magnolia's, though, had made him wonder if she'd dated a man who'd taken her there. Maybe she was used to fine dining from that relationship. The thought gave him pause. Surely they wouldn't have shared such a strong attraction if there was another man in the picture.

“You know, Josie, I've never asked you if you have a relationship that Lisa and I are keeping you from.”

Lisa glared at him the way she had that day when he'd gotten too close to Josie in the water. “Uncle Michael, that's none of our business.”

Josie waved off Lisa's comment. “It's okay, Lisa. I don't have any special relationships. Just a few good friends.”

Was she being vague on purpose? “Friends, huh? Men friends?”

“Quit sounding so pathetic,” Lisa said. “We've had such a good time. I mean, it's like we all got along really well tonight. Don't mess it up, Uncle Michael.”

“Come on, you two,” Josie said. “It's okay. There is no man in my life now. Let's remember that we're here to help Lisa get ready to go home.”

Lisa sat straighter, motioned the waiter for more coffee for Michael, then asked for a pot of hot tea. “How am I doing?”

Josie couldn't believe the change. “You're certainly capable of accompanying your uncle to family and business dinners. I guess you have to decide if that's what you want.”

Suddenly serious, Lisa looked at Mike. “Did my mom, like, hate all the bank functions and country-club dinners? Is that why she went…well, kind of wild?”

He ran his thumb over the rim of his coffee cup. “Honestly, I don't think she ever gave any event half a chance. Seems to me she was unhappy for as long as I can remember.”

“Was Grandmother hard on her like she is on me?”

Josie's teeth clenched and she had to force her jaw to relax.
What I wouldn't give to have five minutes with the woman!

Mike's mouth tilted with an ironic smile. “As impossible as it may seem, your grandmother has learned a lot over the years. She was even harder on your mom. They started fighting around Patricia's twelfth birthday and never stopped.”

“Why couldn't Mom just get over it when she was grown up? Why all the booze and stuff—whatever it was that made her look so sick?”

With kind, compassionate eyes, he looked directly into his niece's eyes. “She had lots of emotional problems. Depression. And who knows what else.”

“And she used drugs?”

“Yes. But we were never sure what all she was on.” He paused. “Can you see why I worry about you now?”

“Do you think Grandmother and Grandfather act like they do because they worry about me like they did my mom?”

He looked thoughtful, as if weighing his words before saying them. “It's different with you. They worry because they love you. They've mellowed a lot since Patricia. With her, they did the best they knew how.” He shook his head. “She just seemed born to rebel. She rejected them, their lifestyle, and everything they stood for. They never could seem to get past it and love her anyway.”

“Which was what she needed most,” Josie said without thinking.

Grief flashed across Mike's face. “You're exactly right.”

Then, just as clearly as if God Himself had spoken inside her head, Josie saw that she had done the same thing to her parents. She'd never liked the way they lived their life and had rejected them because of it. She'd run off and never looked back.

Now she knew how that must have hurt them. Even though they had stifled her, had tried to mold her into something she wasn't, she could have reacted better.

Lord, thank You for showing me this. Is this why You brought Lisa and Mike here? To show me that Mom and Dad aren't the only ones at fault in our messed-up relationship?

Josie watched, amazed, as Lisa let Mike touch her arm and didn't move away. It wouldn't be long before he could hug her. Tonight was a big step.

The exquisite dinner sank to the bottom of her stomach like a big blob of oatmeal. The end of their time together was that much closer.

 

Against their wishes, Michael followed Josie and Lisa back to the house. Once they opened the front door and waved, he drove away, disappointed that they hadn't asked him in. They claimed they were worn out from work, and that they had to get up early. He was probably being paranoid, but he suspected they wanted a girls' night in. Lisa had mentioned something quietly to Josie about a video and popcorn.

Back at his bleak motel room, he tossed his jacket on a chair, removed his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. As he sprawled flat on his back across the bed, he played back his conversation with Lisa. Maybe having more insight into her mother and grandparents would help prepare her for going back home.

Speaking of home…

He should probably call his parents to check in.

Instead, he reached for the remote and turned on the television. He hadn't changed the channel from a cable news station since he'd gotten there. He muted it, uninterested in hearing about the bad going on in the world that day.

Dad will expect me to call.
But he had kept in touch with Gary. According to him, everything was okay. Michael knew, though, that his dad wouldn't approve.