Sex and Key Lime Pie (12 page)

Pele sat on Alicia’s shoulder, picking through her sable colored hair. “Guess what, Dad? It means he likes me when he’s looking for bugs.”

Tony, unfazed by the announcement, chuckled. “Did he find any yet?”

“No. Can we take him to show Uncle Luc?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea today,” Isabelle said before Cheyanne could.

Evidently Luc had expressed his disinterest to his sister. If he wanted to meet her son, he would have made an excuse to stop by. He never had any trouble in the past. Isabelle and Tony more than made up for Luc’s absence. Sam needed his family, even if he didn’t know they were his yet. She wouldn’t regret her decision to bring him here no matter what happened with Luc. If he didn’t want to be part of their lives that was his loss.

And hers as well.

****

Luc parked his truck in the lot at the community sports field and stepped from the air-conditioned cab into the humid summer heat. He joined his cousin at the sideline. Miguel watched as a group of youngsters played soccer prior to the start of practice.

“What are you doing here?” Miguel asked.

“I wanted to go over a few things for the demolition before you get started.”

“Even the Lord rested on Sunday, Luc.”

The Lord wasn’t trying to banish a woman from his mind. He had spent the weekend on his boat to get away from the Cove, but he couldn’t get away from his thoughts. Making love to Cheyanne had been a mistake, but she was a drug in his system. He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Would he need a twelve-step program to get over his addiction to her?

“Yes!” Miguel yelled.

Luc followed his cousin’s stare, and focused on the field. The children, a mix of local kids and tourists were engaged in a spirited game, but one boy stood out from the others. His skilled footwork and ball control, the benchmarks of the sport, were beyond his years. Unlike the other children, the heat didn’t slow him down.

“Do you know him?” Luc asked.

“He looks familiar. And if he’s here for the summer, he’s mine.”

Luc slapped him on the back. “You really want that trophy this year.”

Miguel had been competitive in high school, but more so since volunteering to coach a kids’ team. “Alicia,” he called out and waved the girl over.

She hugged her cousin then launched into Luc’s arms. “Are you here to watch my practice, Uncle?”

Guilt caused him to lie. He’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Cheyanne that he’d forgotten about the start of the summer soccer season. “Of course,” he said as he lowered her to the ground.

“Who’s the boy you were talking to?” Miguel inquired.

“He’s really good, isn’t he? Even snooty Rodney Henderson couldn’t get the ball away from him. Not even once. He wants to join our team. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“As soon as I can get a parent to sign the paperwork.” Miguel’s eyes grew wide with excitement. Every coach would pursue any kid who could shut down the Henderson boy, the most obnoxious and talented player in the under-ten league. Naturally, Miguel wanted the newcomer signed, sealed and delivered before anyone else discovered his prize. “Is his mother here by any chance?”

“No.”

Luc laughed at his cousin’s blatant desperation. “Make sure you point her out to Miguel when she gets here.”

Alicia’s brows arched in confusion. “You know his mother. She used to be your girlfriend, Uncle Luc.”

All humor faded. “Cheyanne’s son?”

Luc stared at the boy. He’d spent the weekend fishing to put off this meeting. In hindsight, it had been ridiculous to avoid an eight-year-old. Not that he could, now that Alicia waved him over.

“Sam. This is my Uncle Luc. And Uncle Miguel, well, he’s really my mom’s cousin, but I call him uncle. He’s going to be your coach.”

“Nice to meet you.” He offered his hand to both men. If a child’s behavior reflected his upbringing, then Cheyanne had raised her son well. She’d never suffered from a lack of class.

“Ele nao pare ce-se seua mae,” Miguel muttered.

Luc nodded in agreement. “De jeito nenhum.”

Alicia stamped her foot. A defender of the underdog, she rose to her new friend’s defense. “How rude to speak Portuguese when he can’t understand. He might think you are saying something mean about him.”

Sam shrugged. “No, they just said I don’t look like my mother, but everybody says that.” The kids sprinted back to the game leaving the two adults chastised.

“Apparently Cheyanne taught him better manners than we were taught,” Miguel grumbled. “The kid understands Portuguese. Where do you think he picked that up?”

“Not from Cheyanne. The only things we ever taught her were the curse words.” And his mother had smacked him upside the head every time one of the Three Musketeers used the words. How the hell could he erase her from his head when she was intertwined in his family memories?

****

Isabelle settled in her chair and closed her eyes.

She seemed tired. Cheyanne worried that the timing of her return put more stress on her friend when Isabelle needed calm, not drama.

“Are you all right?” Cheyanne asked.

Isabelle opened her eyes and let out a laugh. “I hope Sam pays you for babysitting.” The cute little monkey had attached itself to Cheyanne’s arm and played with the buttons on her shirt.

“If I had known he was going to skip out on me, I would have left it home.”

“To tell you the truth, I forgot about the practice until Lizzy showed up alone. But they’ll be back any minute and I’m sure Alicia will be more than happy to take over.”

As if on cue, Miguel pulled up in front of the house and the two children jumped from the truck bed. They raced to the front door and it was obvious, as she watched from the window, that Sam let Alicia win.

“I beat you!” Alicia squealed as she burst through the front door. “I get to hold him first.”

“Told you,” Isabelle said as the child relieved Cheyanne of the pet.

“Can I get you anything?”

Isabelle looked at her husband, impatiently eyeing them from the door of the study. “I think Tony needs you. He’s salivating by the computer.”

Cheyanne’s brow furrowed. “Izzy, you don’t think...”

“No! He’s only interested in your mind.” Tony wanted a bigger restaurant. A stint on a ship while in the merchant marines had given him cooking skills, but no training in the business end of the culinary arts. Like Luc and Miguel, and many other first generation sons of immigrant parents, Tony had a burning need to prove himself. And their drive left them all with a massive case of tunnel vision.

“It’s nice to be appreciated for my mind instead of my body.”

“Unlike some other member of the family who shall remain nameless?” Isabelle asked and then shrugged an apology.

Cheyanne smiled, but it was a sad one. “Yes, let’s keep him nameless.”

She crossed the living room, dodged two kids on the floor, passed the kitchen where Elisabeth and Mrs. Ortega were cooking dinner, and headed toward Tony, waiting at the computer. She missed this the most. Sundays spent with the family. The part of her life Isabelle had shared so often with Cheyanne that she came to feel she belonged. Until Luc took it all away.

Before she reached the study, Miguel cut her off. “I have to talk to you.”

“Sure.” She followed him to the porch.

He paced the wooden boards. She recognized the look of intensity that ran in the family. “I need a copy of Sam’s birth certificate, right away.”

“What?” Her stomach flip-flopped. Why would Miguel want that unless he suspected the truth?

“For junior league soccer registration.”

Relief ran through her. Still, she couldn’t supply him with the document unless she wanted him to see Luc named as the father. “I don’t have it here.”

“Can you get it?”

“Is it that important?”

“Hell yes. Do you have any idea how good he is?”

She shook her head. “Does it make me a bad mother if I say no? He was good at the soccer club where he used to play but I don’t know how good.”

“He’s better than good, he’s a phenom for his age.”

As a parent, she was naturally biased, still she puffed up with pride to hear Miguel praise Sam. “Will his passport do? They accepted it for the camp registration.”

“Perfect.” He exhaled deeply. Obviously, he really wanted her son on his team. “By the way, Dizzy, where did he learn Portuguese?”

“How did you know?” Sam hadn’t spoken the language since returning to the states.

An embarrassed flushed crept up Miguel’s cheeks. “Luc and I were talking and he understood every word.”

Her heart skipped a beat. So Luc had met his son. Her gaze went instinctively to Sam. He appeared happy and unaffected by the meeting. If fact, he seemed more content than he had been in a long time.

“We weren’t saying anything that would upset him. But it’s humbling to be put in your place by an eight-year-old.”

She waved a finger at him. “Serves you right for all those times you would switch to Portuguese to make Lizzy and me crazy.”

He shrugged ruefully. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“In Lisbon. We lived there for two years.”

“Ironic how that worked out. We’re all Portuguese Americans and you’re the one of the group who ended up working there.”

“Life is funny like that,” she agreed but irony had nothing to do with it. She’d sought out the position so that Sam would have an understanding and appreciation of his heritage. For herself, Portugal had made her lonely for Isabelle and Luc.

Chapter Nine

The summer soccer camp coincided with Cheyanne’s work schedule. By Thursday she had her routine down. She dropped Sam off at the sport club, worked the lunch shift and still had time to help with the clean up before Sam met her at the diner. The days passed quickly. Working with a comedy duo helped.

She knew her friend would not follow doctors’ orders and stay home. At one point, to the amusement of the lunch clientele, Tony had chased his wife from the kitchen with a soup ladle. They were still arguing over the cleanup.

“Touch one dish and I’ll tie you to a chair. Do you hear me?” Tony bellowed.

“I think they heard you in Providence,” Isabelle returned with good-natured humor.

Cheyanne retreated to the stove and tried not to laugh out loud.

“The kids are back,” Isabelle announced as she pushed through the swinging doors to the dining area. “I’ll see if they’re hungry, if you don’t think it will be too much of a strain.”

“Stubborn, sarcastic pain in the...neck,” he mumbled and loaded the pots into the dishwasher.

“Look what the wind blew in,” Isabelle said.

Cheyanne peeked though the doors. Her pulse raced. Already sweating from the kitchen, the sight of Luc turned up her body heat until she was damp all over. She hadn’t seen him since the night they’d made love. He hadn’t even stopped by the restaurant to eat.

“Are you supposed to be here?” Luc asked his sister.

“It’s so nice to see you too,” Isabelle said. “And if you weren’t expecting to see me, what are you doing here?”

“I have a fishing date with my niece.”

“Oh, Uncle Luc, I forgot. I made plans with Sam.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, but Cheyanne didn’t miss the echo of sadness in his voice. Her passions were quickly cooled.

“Maybe he could come with us?” Alicia asked hopefully.

Luc ruffled the top of her head. “We can go another time.”

“But...” Alicia looked back and forth between her favorite uncle and her new friend. Not an enviable position for an eight-year-old.

Sam hopped off the counter stool. “I got lots of things to do. Tell my mom I went to the wharf.”

Cheyanne backed away from the door. She swallowed hard. Disappointment was part of life. She also knew that in another hour, Sam would be engaged in some other activity and he would forget all about the canceled plans. But at that moment he looked hurt and confused. “Tony?”

“Just go. I’ve got this.”

****

Isabelle rolled up a newspaper that had been left on a table and smacked Luc in the side of the head. “Idiot.”

“What?” He got damn tired of his sister’s hormonal whims. She chided him when he didn’t show up for family commitments and she chided him when he did.

Tony joined them and dropped a basket of clean silverware onto the counter with loud crash. “Jackass,” he added to his wife’s assessment.

“Where is Cheyanne?” Isabelle asked. Tony nodded toward the bay window.

Luc followed his sister’s gaze. Cheyanne sprinted across the street, her silky hair bouncing to the spring in her step. She looked the same as she had back in high school. Damn! She was magnificent. White denim encased the long legs she had wrapped around him willingly and eagerly. Graceful and sexy with a heart-stopping smile, she turned heads wherever she went. Not that she’d ever noticed.