Let's Make It Legal (15 page)

She sighed. She wondered if John had watched the show. Because of her flight, she would miss it, but she’d set her VCR to record it, and she would probably watch it tonight. See whether or not she’d come off the way she’d hoped to.

She had a feeling John had disapproved of her appearance on the show. She wondered why. A disturbing thought had occurred to her the other night, and she’d tried to shove it aside, but now it surfaced again. Could he be envious of her? And if he was, why? Hadn’t he emphasized how much he eschewed the high stress and demanding aspects of his former career?

What am I doing with him?
As she stared out at the pillowy clouds below, the question echoed in her mind.
I’m going to get hurt. I can tell myself a thousand times that I can handle anything that comes along, that I’m only in this relationship for the pleasure it gives me now, that I can walk away from him without regrets, but I no longer know if that’s true.

What was going to happen to her when John finally realized that the two of them were on different tracks? That her goals were incompatible with his?

How was she going to handle it when he dumped her?

She closed her eyes. There was no answer to the last question that didn’t make her feel sick inside.

Because the unthinkable had happened.

She had fallen in love with him.

* * *

The next week flew by, and before Sydney knew it, it was the weekend before Thanksgiving. John took her to see
Madame Butterfly
that Saturday night. As they exited the Wortham Theater along with the other opera-goers, Sydney looked up to admire the Christmas lights on the sides of the downtown skyscrapers.

“That’s my building,” she said. “See? The one with the Christmas tree on the side.”

John groaned. “Don’t mention Christmas.”

Sydney gave him a sympathetic look. “What’s the matter? Haven’t you done any of your shopping yet?”

“You mean you
have?”
he said incredulously.

She laughed. “No.”

He laughed, too. “Thank God. I can’t stand people who do all their shopping by October.” He tucked her arm in his, and they walked toward where he’d parked his car. “I guess I’ll go out this weekend and at least try to get the kids’ stuff.”

Sydney made a face. “Shop on Thanksgiving weekend? The crowds are horrendous.”

“I know, but the kids are going to be away, so it’ll be the best chance I’ve got.”

“Where are they going?”

“To their grandparents’ house.” He looked at her. “Andrea’s parents live in Florida. We, uh, have always spent Thanksgiving with them.”

“But you’re not going this year?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated a fraction of a second. “I didn’t feel like it this year.”

Something about the way he answered made Sydney’s heart skip a beat. He hadn’t
said
“because of you,” but he’d implied it, she was sure. Happiness flooded her. She knew he was still close to his wife’s parents, and that didn’t bother her, not really. In fact, his generous, caring nature was one of the things she liked best about him. So how could she resent his continued affection for his children’s grandparents?

“I guess you’ll be spending Thanksgiving Day with your sister,” she said after a moment.

“Nope. Janet and Mike are going to Massachusetts to spend the holidays with his family.”

“Then you’ll be here by yourself?”

“Looks like it.”

By now they’d reached his car, and he unlocked the passenger door, then helped Sydney up into the Bronco. By the time he came around to his side and let himself in, Sydney had made a decision.

“John,” she said as he pulled out of his parking slot on McKinney and headed toward Louisiana and the entrance to the Katy Freeway, “I’d like you to have Thanksgiving dinner with me... and my family.”

She knew it was probably foolish and self-indulgent to have invited him, but she just couldn’t resist showing him off. Couldn’t resist showing her sisters and her mother that she could attract a man like John. That she wasn’t a total dud in the romance department.

“I’d like that,” he said.

Sydney smiled happily, trying to suppress her doubts. Part of her knew she would probably pay for this impulsive act. When she and John parted ways, she would have to put up with innumerable questions from her family if she led them to believe this was a serious relationship. And they
would
believe it was serious, because Sydney had never before brought a man home for them to meet.

It is serious. You're in love with him.

Sydney pushed the thought away. One of these days, she would have to deal with it.

But not today.

* * *

Thanksgiving Day turned out to be one of those perfect autumn days that Houston should have, but often didn’t. It was clear, crisp, and just a bit chilly, with very little wind and no clouds to mar the surface of the robin’s-egg-blue sky.

The sun danced off the patio doors—dazzling in its brilliance—and because they’d had quite a bit of rain for the past couple of weeks, the evergreens and fall gardens looked colorful and healthy. In a burst of domesticity the previous week, Sydney had bought two tubs of miniature mums, and their scarlet and rose blooms lent a touch of inviting color to her patio.

Sydney had called her mother a few days earlier to tell her to expect John for Thanksgiving dinner. Although her mother did a good job of acting as if Sydney’s bringing a man to dinner was a common occurrence, Sydney knew that Helena was stunned.

John arrived to pick Sydney up at one, looking so handsome she almost forgot to breathe. He often had this effect on her, and she wondered if other women felt the same way when they saw the man they loved. He wore casual khaki pants and a cinnamon-colored cashmere sweater. She thought they looked good together, her teal pants outfit a nice contrast to his earth tones, then she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing at herself. Since when had she cared about clothes and colors?

They got to her parents’ home about one-thirty. Sydney had thought she might be nervous, but she wasn’t. In fact, she couldn’t wait to see the expressions on the faces of Wendy and Eliza.

Claire, of course, had already met John that last day in court. Sydney wondered if her sister had mentioned him to the others. Sydney had no idea how often her sisters talked to one another. She only knew that if they
did
talk, she was not in the loop. Even Claire, the sibling to whom she felt closest, never called her just to chat.

You don’t call her, either.

As she and John exited his Bronco and walked up the driveway, Sydney decided she would try really hard today to get along with everyone and to avoid all negative thoughts. She would even be nice to Wendy’s husband, Craig.

Her sisters didn’t disappoint Sydney. Both Wendy and Eliza acted satisfyingly stunned when she introduced them to John. At first, their reactions gratified Sydney, but about midway through dinner, a creeping resentment began to eat away at her well-being.

During dinner, Eliza was seated directly across the table from John, and she’d been batting her eyelashes at him and giving him her one-hundred-watt smile from the moment she sat down.

“John, I think it’s just
fascinatin’
that you gave up your law practice to be at home for your children,” Eliza gushed.

At first, Sydney had been amused by Eliza’s Southern belle act, but after a steady dose of it, Sydney wanted to vomit. She also wondered when and how Eliza had ferreted out that piece of information. Sydney hadn’t heard John say anything about his reasons for going into the temporary employment business.

“It’s too bad more men don’t feel that way,” Claire remarked before John had a chance to reply.

“How old are your children, John?” Wendy asked.

“My daughter just turned eleven and my son is six and a half.”

“Oh, your daughter’s only a little older than Caroline, then,” Eliza said, inclining her head toward the kitchen, where all six of the grandchildren were sitting. “She’s at the age where she’s beginnin’ to question everything I say. I’m really
dreadin’
the teenage years.”

John smiled. “Yes, Emily already thinks she knows more than I do. I can’t imagine what she’ll be like in three or four years.”

Eliza gave him a conspiratorial smile. “Has she started rolling her eyes at you yet?”

“Only about twenty times a day.”

“Doesn’t it make you
crazy?”

John laughed.

“Sometimes I think there must be some kind of unwritten law. You know,
when a girl reaches the age of seven, she automatically knows everything.
” Eliza said.

“You should know,” Claire said. “You were insufferable when you were little.”

She still is insufferable, Sydney thought.

“I just thought girls were born thinking they know everything,” John said.

Everyone laughed.

How did her sister do it? Sydney wondered. There wasn’t a man alive who had ever gotten within ten feet of Eliza who Eliza hadn’t managed to charm. She always found a subject near and dear to their hearts and then proceeded to monopolize the conversation. Sydney wished she could think of something to say, but when the subject was children, she had nothing to offer.

“Mom,” Claire said, “the turkey is wonderful.”

“Yes,” the others chorused, offering various comments about the food.

“I like your dressing, Mrs. Wells,” John said. “It reminds me of my grandmother’s.”

“Thank you, John.”

Sydney felt absurdly grateful to Claire for changing the subject. The talk turned to more general topics, but Sydney noticed how Eliza continued to direct most of her remarks to John, and how much he obviously enjoyed her attention. He certainly made no effort to turn to Sydney very often.

In fact, he seemed to get along with all of her sisters extremely well. Too well.

Sydney wondered what was wrong with her that she felt so threatened by this.

Could it be the realization that any of her sisters, even Eliza, who Sydney considered vapid and stupid, was probably more suited to John than she was?

And if it had taken only a couple of hours in their company for Sydney to realize it, would it be very much longer before John himself realized it?

For the rest of the afternoon, Sydney couldn’t shake the dismal thought. Even later, when everyone settled into the family room for coffee and dessert, and John sat next to her on the couch, casually draping his arm around her, Sydney didn’t feel much better.

She looked at her mother and sisters and wondered why she had to be so different.

It had been a mistake to bring John here today.

Their entire relationship was a mistake.

Sydney, I know something’s bothering you,” John said. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead and kissed her cheek. It was about midnight Thanksgiving night, and they were lying together in her bed after making love. “I wish you’d tell me what it is.”

He felt her stiffen in his arms. He gently turned her face toward him and looked into her eyes. In the muted light, her eyes had the luster of dark pearls. “What is it?” he said.

She sighed, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you. Was it something that happened today?” It must have been, because on the way to her family’s home, she’d been happy, even exuberant, if that adjective could ever be applied to someone as reserved as Sydney. But since they’d left her parents’ place, she’d been remote. Even during their lovemaking, he had felt the distance between them.

When she didn’t answer him, he said, “I really liked your family, by the way.”

“That was certainly obvious.”

John frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, don’t act as if you don’t know what I’m talking about, John. God! I can’t stand it when people play games.” She turned her head away, and he could feel the tension vibrating through her body.

“Sydney,” he said, totally bewildered. “I thought you’d be glad I liked your family.” He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. “What the hell is the problem here?”

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, as if a dam had burst, she blurted out, “The problem is you hardly even knew I was alive today! You were
so fascinated
with Eliza and charmed by Claire and Wendy, you spent all your time talking to them. I might as well not have even been there.”

John stared at her. So that was it. She was jealous! Sydney was jealous of his attentions to her sisters. He wanted to laugh, but he knew he’d better not. Sydney wouldn’t take kindly to the idea that he thought her feelings were something to laugh about.

“Sydney,” he said softly, smoothing his hand over her cheek. “Don’t you know that the reason I paid so much attention to your sisters is that they
are
your sisters? Because you’re important to me, and I wanted your family to like me?”

Her body still felt like a piece of wood in his arms. He sighed, letting go of her to reach over and turn on the bedside light so he could see her and she could see him. Sydney pulled the covers up and avoided his eyes.

He bent and kissed her neck. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to be jealous.”

Her head jerked around, and he received a painful bump on his nose.

“Jealous! That’s ridiculous. I’m not the least bit jealous.” She laughed, the sound cynical and bitter. “After all, I have no expectations from you. I know exactly what our relationship is all about. You don’t need to sugarcoat it by pretending I’m important to you.”

“And just what the hell is that remark supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” she said.

“If I did, I wouldn’t ask you.”

“Oh, come on, John, we’re both adults. What’s between us is great sex, nothing else.” Her voice wobbled on the word
sex,
but she stuck her chin up in the air defiantly.

Her words cut him deeply, and he forgot to be cautious. “Oh, is that so? Then why’d you take me to meet your family?”

Her gaze met his, and there was a bleakness to it that caused his anger to evaporate as suddenly as it had formed. Her face had drained of color, and he could see she was struggling to pretend indifference.