With a Little T.L.C. (11 page)

Joe shrugged. “They're good friends, always liked and respected each other. Go figure.”

The quartet was playing a waltz. At least that was working in his favor. He put a hand at her slender waist and wrapped her fingers in his, leading her into the slow steps. He felt her tension in the stiffness of her body.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” he asked.

She nodded. “When you picked me up you said all the appropriate things.”

“Well that's a two-compliment dress. And I like your hair that way.”

“Thank you,” she said glancing away a little shyly. “Have I told you how handsome you look?”

He shook his head. “But I suspect on the heels of that flattery is a zinger to the effect of you've never seen a guy who couldn't be improved by a tux.”

“I can't argue with that,” she said smiling. “But I'd be less than honest if I didn't say that you make the suit look good.”

He grinned back. “Ah progress. It's a good thing.”

“Yes,” she agreed, watching the bride and groom dance by. “Nick and Abby look happy,” she commented. “They only have eyes for each other.”

“Yeah,” he said sliding his arm more firmly around her waist.

As they'd been talking, he'd felt her discomfort melt away. Her body relaxed and he pulled her subtly closer. She inched her hand up his arm, across his shoulder, until finally curving it around his neck. Now he was getting somewhere.

He just didn't understand why it took him so long to put her at ease when his brothers were there just by showing up. When she'd told him he was a swell guy, he thought he'd made progress. Was he wrong?

 

Liz sat alone at her table for the first time since Joe had returned from having his picture taken. It was as if he'd set up a perimeter around her, daring any other guy to get past him. Part of her was terrified—part of her was thrilled. The attention was flattering and made her heart go pitter-pat.

If he only knew no other guy was a threat. He was the only one with the power to get to her. She was glad he was busy for a few moments elsewhere. He was so overwhelmingly masculine. So powerfully appealing. So endearingly sweet and funny. She needed a couple moments alone. It gave her a chance to catch her breath. Put her defenses in place for the next assault. In spite of her fears, she couldn't regret her decision to accompany him tonight. She was having a wonderful time. Thanks to his presence.

She suddenly realized she'd had just as good a time putting together her desk, making dinner and watch
ing a movie. Because it was all about spending time with Joe.

Flo Marchetti sat in the chair beside her. “Hi, Liz.”

“Mrs. Marchetti—”

“Flo. Please. May I sit down?”

“Of course,” she said. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

For a woman in her fifties, Flo Marchetti looked good, and very attractive. Her short silver hair curled around her practically unlined face in a soft, becoming style. No helmet hair for her. Her mother-of-the-groom dress was long and peach-colored with a matching hip-length jacket that flattered her tall figure.

“I'm just fine, dear. Thanks for asking.”

“You're welcome. It's a beautiful wedding. Nick and Abby looked so happy when they left for their honeymoon. And you don't look so bad yourself. I love your dress. That satin is so elegant. And the color looks wonderful on you.”

“Thank you.” Flo laughed. “The kids did look happy when they left, didn't they? I hope the local birds don't get sick from gorging on all that birdseed we threw at the bride and groom. Being environmentally correct does have its downside.”

Liz grinned. “You might want to leave the tarp up for a while.”

Flo laughed, then met her gaze. “Are you having a good time, dear?”

“Oh, yes,” she answered fervently. “Absolutely wonderful. Everything is perfect.”

Flo looked serious. “Including Joe?” When Liz met her gaze she quickly said, “I refuse to beat
around the bush. I say what's on my mind. And at the moment, that would be information. What's up with you and my son? One minute I think it's serious, and the next either you or Joe is looking completely terrified. Do you have something against him?”

Liz sensed no hostility in the woman, just a genuine desire to understand and help. She smiled sadly. “No. Nothing. What's not to like about Mr. Wonderful?”

Flo laughed. “Is that what you call him?”

“Not to his face,” she admitted.

“Good. He would be insufferable.”

“I recently did an unofficial catalogue of his flaws,” Liz offered.

“Why?” Flo asked.

“Because I don't want to care about him.”

“Why?” Flo asked again, a puzzled frown puckering her forehead.

Liz sighed. “I don't know how much he's told you about me—”

“Not a word,” the older woman assured her.

“Well my family put the dys in dysfunctional—before the term became politically correct.”

“You don't have to tell me this,” Flo said quickly. “I'm not trying to pry.”

“Yes, you are. And I mean that in a good way. You obviously care deeply for your children and you're trying to protect Joe. I'd like to talk about this, if you don't mind.” At the other woman's nod, Liz continued. “My father was a good-looking, charming womanizer. He didn't know the meaning of the word faithful.”

“And your mother stayed with him?”

“Yes. How did you guess?”

“If she'd left, you probably wouldn't be carrying around so much pain.”

“She loved him,” Liz said with a shrug.

“Then I hope her payback was equal to the energy she put into the relationship.”

“I don't know. I'll never know. She passed away.”

“I'm sorry.”

“But what do you mean about payback?” Liz asked.

“The only reason to stay with someone is if you're happier with them than you are without them. If your mother received enough in return for her loyalty, then I'd say the situation worked for her. If not—” she shrugged.

“How can you get enough back under those circumstances?” Liz asked, trying to tamp down the bitter memories of her mother's tear-stained face.

Flo shook her head sympathetically. “Only the couple in a relationship can judge that. Although ideally two people who stay together should be in love. Otherwise it's not good for anyone, especially impressionable children.”

“Divorce is painful too,” Liz pointed out.

Flo nodded. “But at least separation gives you time to regroup. The hurtful situation isn't allowed to continue, letting the wounds fester without time to heal.”

Liz thought about her words. She could see the wisdom of removing oneself from pain. “How did you get to be so smart? Especially about this stuff? Joe says you and Mr. Marchetti have been happily married for over thirty-five years.”

A troubled look crossed the other woman's face. “Most of the years were happy. But we had our ups and downs. We separated for a while.”

“Really?” Joe had never mentioned that.

Flo nodded. “It was my fault. Not my husband's. To the best of my knowledge, he has never been with another woman during our marriage. And
he's
a good-looking charmer,” she said pointedly. “Joe is his spitting image.”

“I've noticed the strong physical resemblance.” She wondered if his mother was trying to tell her that Joe would be a faithful husband, like his father.

Liz was tempted to tell the woman not to waste her time persuading her that Joe was a great guy. She was already semihooked. But she decided to keep the info to herself. Right now she was dealing with the stunning news that Joe's parents had had marital problems. Was Joe in the dark about this?

“Tom and I worked things out because we found that we truly love each other. We always have and always will. We are much happier together than apart. Two people with enough motivation can keep a marriage together.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I lived that.” Flo reached out and squeezed her hand. “Don't turn your back on something that could be wonderful,” she added.

Liz nodded. “I never thought about it like that.”

She noticed Joe approaching, a glass of punch in each hand. Her stomach fluttered. And she felt somehow lighter in spirit, as if the heavy burden she'd lugged around all her life had finally slipped away. Her heart swelled with an emotion that was too fragile and new to name. The best news of all?

She wasn't afraid anymore.

“W
ell, look who's here.” Liz opened her front door wide.

“Sorry to drop in without calling,” Joe said.

She smiled brightly. Was she glad to see him? Sure looked that way. It scared him how badly he'd needed to see her. He was bummed. He wanted to be with her. The warning signals went off in his head, but he ignored them.

“Actually, I was going to call you,” she said.

“About something specific, or because I'm a swell guy?”

“You're not going to let me forget I said that, are you?”

“Maybe. When I get equal time for the drubbing you gave me initially. So why were you going to call me?”

“There's a reception for the hospital volunteers Friday night. A small soiree to say thanks. The Board
of Directors decided to continue the cuddler program. I thought you might like to be there.”

“Are you planning to be in attendance?”

She nodded. “The staff is bringing the goodies. We're doing the thanking.”

“Then I wouldn't miss it.” Or a chance to see her, he added silently.

It had been a couple days since Nick's wedding. He'd been able to think of little else but Liz. It had been a real downer of a day and somehow he'd just wound up on her doorstep. Instinctively he knew that she was good medicine for what ailed him.

“Come on in,” she said. “I'm making a salad for dinner. If I add a steak would you care to join me?”

“I'd like that,” he said smoothly, trying not to grin from ear to ear.

He hadn't realized he'd been hoping for an invitation until she asked him to stay. They'd had a great time at the wedding. And after his mother had talked with her, Liz had seemed to loosen up even more with him. He liked the way things were between them.

“You look like you've been rode hard and put away wet. Would you like a beer?” she asked.

“I'd be in your debt forever,” he answered.

She turned and opened the refrigerator bending down to get what she wanted. His gaze dropped to her backside, encased in soft, smooth sweatpants. Her rounded posterior made his palms ache with the need to touch her, caress her. When she turned around with a longneck in her hand, he forced himself to meet her gaze.

She handed the bottle to him. “Rough day at work? For a Human Resources Director, you look human
enough, but I'd have to guess you need a transfusion of resources.”

“Does it show?”

“Yeah,” she said sympathetically. “Let's go sit on the couch and you can tell Nurse Liz all your symptoms and I'll write you an appropriate prescription.”

She'd already done that when she opened the door and let him in. He liked that she could read his mood and knew what to do. Maybe too much.

When they sat on the sofa, something made him reach for her hand. She not only didn't pull away, she laced her fingers through his and gave him a soft, tender look. Suddenly he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go. He wanted to kiss her and touch her and hold her until all the bad stuff went away. The force of his need made him take two steps back so that he did nothing but stroke the back of her hand with his thumb.

“So what is it?” she asked. “What depleted all your resources?”

“I went to court today. Moral support for a friend of mine who's going through a nasty divorce. They're haggling over the financial settlement.” He shrugged. “I was best man at his wedding and now they're splitting up silverware, furniture and kids. Even the family pet.”

“I'm sorry,” she said. “What happened to them?”

“Irreconcilable differences,” he said bitterly. “A bland, catch-all phrase. A cold, clinical way of saying they fell out of love.”

“Were they ever truly in love?” she asked.

He thought about that for a minute. He went back to that time in college—he and Bill sowing their wild oats. Bill met Jennifer and was in lust with her. They
saw each other for a long time until Jenn finally gave him an ultimatum—put up or shut up. She wanted kids, a house, the white picket fence and was ready to walk if she didn't get it. Joe had gotten the feeling that she wasn't the love of Bill's life. His friend just didn't want to be without someone.

“That's a good question,” he finally said. “I guess only the two of them can say whether or not it was true love. Why do you ask?”

“Something your mother said to me at the wedding.”

“Uh oh,” he said. “I should warn you not to put too much stock in what Flo says. She's a shameless matchmaker. In fact it's her fault that Nick and Abby are together today.”

“Fault? Interesting choice of words. What did your mother do?” she asked.

“Nick and Ab went to the cabin in the mountains and the only reason she agreed to go with my brother was because she thought the rest of the family was going too and they wouldn't be alone.”

“What happened? Did they wind up alone?”

He nodded. “Thanks to Ma. She threatened to send incriminating baby pictures to the local newspaper if any one of us showed our faces in the mountains. She can be pretty determined when she's on a covert mission.”

“What did that have to do with Nick and Abby getting together?”

“They needed time alone to fall in love.”

“Apparently it worked. You shouldn't be so hard on your mother.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “She's a wonderful lady—
strong, loving. Very human. How can you not admire a woman who would do anything for her children?”

“I guess.”

“You can't truly appreciate her because you don't know any different. But she gave me a different perspective on relationships. You never told me that your parents were separated for a short time.”

That stopped him. A vague discomfort settled over him. A distant memory of a child's pain, fear and confusion. “They split up?”

“That's what your mother told me. You didn't know?”

“I did,” he said uncertainly. He thought about it, sorting through his memories, feeling unsettled. Feeling as if his foundation had cracked and his world tilted. “I think I knew. But I was pretty young. I'm not sure if I remember or Nick said something. My parents never talked about it with us. Did she tell you what happened?”

Liz shook her head. “But whatever it was, she took all the blame. The important thing, according to Flo, is love. Two people who have that and the right motivation can make a relationship work. Anyone else shouldn't bother.”

“Like your parents?”

“Not exactly. She said staying together in that situation is hard on children. It keeps the wound open and festering. I think she was getting into the milieu of my profession. I like your mom.”

“My mother said that your mother gave love a bad name and you're singing her praises?”

“She didn't come right out and say that.” Liz shrugged, drawing his attention to the way her T-shirt tantalizingly molded to her breasts. “I've thought
about it a lot since talking to Flo. I think my mother was like your friend Bill. She stayed with my father because it was better than being alone. I'm not convinced she actually loved him. But that was her decision. I wouldn't let anyone treat me that way. I'd rather be alone than let someone into my life who would make me unhappy. Maybe your friends are wiser than you think. If they don't have the right stuff to stay together, maybe it's best for them to split up.”

He stared at her. She was certainly singing a different tune. That put him off balance. Not to mention the revived memory of his parents' marital problems. He'd thought their relationship was perfect. They had always given him a lot to live up to. Now he was reminded that there was a time when things weren't so rosy. Where did that leave him?

“Ma missed her calling,” he said sharply. “She should hang out a shingle and do family counseling.”

Liz smiled. “She's wonderful. In fact your whole family is pretty sensational.”

“Really?” he asked, feeling that familiar twist of jealousy. It was sharper somehow because his whole world was out of whack.

She nodded. “I talked with Nick and Abby a bit and if I had to bet, I'd lay odds that their marriage will be a good one.”

“I hope so,” he said cautiously.

“They're so in love you can almost touch the aura that surrounds them when they look at each other,” she said.

“Abby's good people. Nick is the best. I hope they don't wind up facing a judge to split up the Tupperware.”

She looked at him questioningly. “My, but we're cynical.”

“I've been taking lessons from you.”

“Well listen up, Mr. Glass-is-half-empty, your parents are cool. Your brothers are fantastic. Very funny and good-looking.”

“Is that so?” he said, his jealousy cranking up a notch. He should never have left her alone with Alex and Luke.

“Yes, that's so. But when you look at your parents, it's easy to see where you guys got your good looks and your ethics.”

“You don't say.”

“Flo and Tom are a handsome couple. They have passed on all the right genes to their offspring.”

“Which offspring in particular?” he couldn't help asking.

“Are you fishing for a compliment?” She raised one eyebrow.

“You bet I am.”

“Well in my humble opinion, you're the best looking of the lot.”

“Thank you.”

“But more important than looks is their values. I find it inspirational that they had problems and worked them out because they're really and truly in love.”

Joe nodded. “Yeah, like I said, they've set a standard impossible to live up to. And I gave up trying.”

She frowned. “I never really believed you meant that.”

“Well, believe it. I feel lucky to have found a niche in the cuddlers program.”

“Really? Being a cuddler satisfies all your emotional needs?”

He nodded. “Pretty much. It's like the family I'll probably never have. Hasn't it fulfilled those needs for you?”

“I guess,” she said. But he got the feeling her heart wasn't in that answer.

Joe got another feeling, that he'd somehow let her down. He didn't much like it. But since he wasn't quite sure what he'd done, or not done, he didn't know how to fix it.

“The program is a good thing,” he said reaching in the dark to repair damage. “It's given me a lot of ideas for on-site child care in the restaurants. Not to mention that you and I have become very good friends.”

They were more than that, and he knew it. But he wasn't prepared to name it. Love? The idea made him want to hightail it in the other direction. Especially after she'd reminded him of his parents' separation. Not only that, he didn't want to burden Liz with emotional declarations. She had mellowed; he liked what they had. Why rock the boat? Friends was a good safe label, he decided.

“And you're perfectly content with friendship?” she asked, a frown marring the smooth skin of her forehead.

“Absolutely.” He nodded.

“I see,” she said in a voice that told him she didn't see at all. She pulled her hand from his.

That was bad enough. But it was the shadow of disillusionment and sadness in her eyes that whacked out his world even more.

 

Liz straightened the red, white and blue paper tablecloth and napkins covering one of the long tables set up in the cafeteria to hold goodies. She and Essie Martinez had agreed on a Fourth of July motif for the volunteer thank-you reception since the holiday was about a week away. And getting into the milieu of that holiday, Liz thought how Regional Medical Center volunteers were dynamite. One especially tall, dark, and hunky cuddler came immediately to mind.

Followed quickly by a sharp stab of pain.

What had made her think that calling the weird, wild, wacky relationship they shared friendship would spare her the hurt and humiliation of a broken heart? She kicked herself for breaking her self-imposed rules—never be friends with a guy. It gets complicated. Especially when you fall in love with him. Several things had crystallized for her after he'd stopped by to see her the other night. He didn't want more than friendship. He didn't want a serious relationship. He didn't want
her
for anything long term. And in spite of herself, she had fallen head over heels in love with Joe Marchetti.

“Liz?”

She looked up to see Sam standing beside her. Shaking her head slightly to clear it she said, “Hi, Samantha. How long have you been there?”

“Long enough. You were lost in thought. Does it have anything to do with our best looking volunteer whose last name starts with Marchetti?”

“Could be,” Liz admitted. “But if you spread that around, I'll deny it.”

Sam made a cross over her heart. “No one will hear it from me, boss. Anything I can do to help?”

Liz shook her head. “No help is necessary. We're
just
friends.
” Even she heard the bitter emphasis on the word.

“Is there a problem with that?”

Yes. And the devil of it was that she was the one who'd insisted on it. She had no right to be upset because he'd actually listened to her. But right and rational thought went out the window when a catch like Joe Marchetti walked in the front door.

Liz had been foolish enough to think that she was immune to love. How arrogant was that? Now she was facing her worst fear—hook, line, and sinker in love with a guy who wanted to be her pal, buddy, chum.

Now her heart hurt.

She was tempted to go to the hospital's cardiology department and see if there was any treatment for her disorder. But she knew her malady wouldn't show up on any of the tests and there was no medicine she could take to make it better. After a lot of thought during some sleepless nights, she had decided on a prescription for her particular cardiac condition.

“Is there a problem being friends with Joe?” Sam asked again.