Her Unlikely Family (7 page)

Does she think we're playing croquet?

“Lisa,” Josie scolded. “Don't worry, Mike. You'll be able to set it one putter length away from the raptor's tail so you can hit it.”

“Great.”

“My turn.” Josie dropped her yellow ball haphazardly, and without taking the time to line up at all gave it a firm tap. It rolled right under the dinosaur's belly, which was barely six inches off the ground, and she and Lisa rushed to watch it on the other side. As Lisa stood, arms crossed, the picture of cool, Josie leaned sideways and groaned as if trying to somehow force the ball to drop into the hole. And it did.

“Wahoo!” Josie shrieked.

“Awesome shot,” said his niece.

As Josie waited for Lisa to give her a high five, she grinned at Michael. “Hole in one.”

“Congratulations.”
This is going to be an interminably long afternoon.

The next two holes went pretty much the same. Josie had the luck of the Irish. Lisa didn't care what her score was as long as she got to knock Michael's ball under soggy prehistoric figures into the realm of drowned bugs.

And he bemoaned his five-over-par score.

Ever hopeful, he said, “This one has a par three, but it's a pretty straight shot. I think I can make up a stroke.”

“Maybe.” His niece elbowed Josie.

“Lisa, leave the poor man's ball alone so he'll have a fighting chance.”

“It's what he deserves for scaring Brian away.”

“Lisa…”

“Okay. For a while.”

“Thank you for being so kind.” He smiled at her, and for a moment he thought she would smile back. A real one. But what she gave him was more reserved—tilted-up mouth but no teeth showing. Still, it was a start.

Any accomplishment raised his spirits and his hope that the two of them would be heading back to Charleston soon.

The fact that he had so much further to go was sobering. But that one tilt of the mouth was enough to make him hit one under par. “Yeah,” he said as he thrust his club in the air.

“Nice job, Mike. Now let's see you focus like that on the next fourteen holes.” Josie wiggled her jean-clad hips as she got in place for her shot. “Maybe you'll catch up to me.”

She hit another hole in one.

By the time they finished the tenth hole, he was impossibly behind Josie. But he and Lisa were neck and neck. At the moment, he was ahead by one shot. Once Lisa hit the ball, he joined the ladies as they watched the ball roll.

“Go ball, go ball, go—Yeah!” Lisa leaped in the air, then looked around as if not wanting anyone to witness a moment of excitement. “My first hole in one,” she said, then pinned her lips between her teeth, trying not to grin.

Josie ruffled Lisa's hair. “Way to go.”

“Congratulations, Lisa.” Before he thought about what he was doing, he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

She pulled away, refusing to look at him. Instead, she looked at Josie and said, “I think I'll run to the water fountain. Gotta keep this athlete hydrated.”

As she rushed away, Michael's shoulders sagged. “You know, I forgot there for a moment that she wasn't ten years old.”

Josie touched his arm. “She'll adjust. She's been without affection for so long. She won't even let me hug her.”

Has our family done this to her, Lord? Made her afraid of human contact?

“Guilt's written all over you, Mike. Don't blame yourself.”

“And just how do you suppose it's not my fault as much as anyone else's?”

“Did you get drunk and get yourself killed in a car wreck?”

Surprised, yet not, at her bluntness, he said, “Well, no. But maybe I did send Lisa away to school too soon. Maybe I could have called and visited more.”

“I'm glad you're thinking about Lisa's welfare, Mike. But don't beat yourself up. You're here for her now.”

Some of the tension eased out of him. She was right. He needed to look to the future.

He turned to the woman beside him, in her worn jeans and bright orange T-shirt. “How can a woman who's as smart as you wear orange when it clashes so badly with pink hair?”

A smile as bright as the September sun in South Carolina lit her face. “Why, thank you for noticing.”

“That you clash?”

“No, silly. That I'm smart. I don't give a flip what you think about my hair.”

That was the truth, for sure. He laughed as she tossed her shoulder-length hair—which she'd left down out of that bird's-nest style. Sparkly crystal-like earrings caught the sun and sent flecks of rainbows across her cheek. As she went to set her ball at the next hole, he couldn't resist the attraction that raced through him. Out here in the sunshine, with regular clothes on, he didn't notice the jewelry so much as the person wearing it. She was down to earth. And likable.

Maybe too likable.

“I'm back,” Lisa called. “Let's finish up.”

Lisa took her place in the game, same as before, but the spark was gone. Her withdrawal from the hug made the last eight holes take forever. And the friendly competition with her dropped off as she ignored his ball. On the eighteenth hole, he actually made a hole in one to much cheering by Josie.

“Nice job, Uncle Michael.” It was all Lisa said or did. No high five. No excitement.

“I'm starving. Let's go get some ice cream,” Josie suggested.

Michael checked his watch. “We still need to eat lunch.”

“Live on the edge, Mike. Have ice cream for lunch. You can have a regular dinner tonight.”

As much as it went against his nature, he could be flexible when necessary. “Okay.”

Josie punched Lisa in the arm. “What's it going to be, sport? Your regular flavor?”

Her regular? How would Josie know that after only two weeks? He didn't even know his own mother's favorite flavor.

Lisa's mouth lifted on one side. “Yeah. What about you?”

“Since we're teaching Mike to live a little, I may as well get adventurous and try something new,” Josie answered.

By the time they reached the ice-cream shop, the two women had discussed every flavor imaginable. From Apple Pie to Zippy Ripple. Whatever that was.

“I'm buying,” he said.

“Of course you are. The loser always buys.” Josie grinned and did that hair-flip thing again. “In fact, Lisa spent a good portion of her tips on ice cream when the two of us played last week.”

He followed them to the ice-cream counter. “It looks like I've been set up.”

Lisa gave him a timid half smile, her gaze darting from him to the ground. “Looks like it.”

His heart almost stopped. He had an overwhelming urge to grab her and hug her to him, but it wasn't going to be possible to make up for the past year in one big bear hug. It would take a lot more work to heal her damaged spirit.

Once they ordered and found an outside picnic table, Josie sat on the bench across from him, and Lisa sat beside Josie.

“What was that concoction called again, Josie?” he asked.

“Death by Chocolate. It's got chocolate ice cream, brownies and fudge. And a little whipped cream and nuts to break the toothache-richness.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Here. Take a taste.” She practically shoved a bite against his lips. “Open up. It's heaven.” She tapped the spoon at his tightly closed lips once more. “Come on.”

He opened and the chocolate flavor burst rich and sweet on his tongue. But he dragged his gaze away from Josie to his niece. “How's the cookie dough, Lisa?”

“Good.” She tentatively licked her single-scoop cone.

“What about you, Mike?” Josie leaned toward him to study his cup of ice cream.

“Vanilla.”

Josie looked at Lisa and burst out laughing.

What was so funny about that?

“No way, Uncle Michael. That's against the law when there are, like, twenty-five flavors.”

“It's French vanilla,” he said.

“The French part doesn't count,” Josie argued.

“With little flecks of vanilla bean.” He tilted the cup so they could see.

Josie appraised the scoop. “Hmm, what do you think, Lisa? Is it legal if there're flecks in it?”

“That's borderline.”

Josie winked at him. “It does look good.”

Surely she wouldn't expect him to feed her a bite.

“Don't be stingy,” she said.

He spooned up a bite and held it out to Josie. As she opened her mouth, their gazes locked. Laughter sparked in her chocolaty-brown eyes. She seemed to enjoy his discomfort with sharing food, something he considered rather intimate.

After he spooned in the portion of French vanilla, and she closed her mouth and drew away, pulling the ice cream off the spoon, she said, “Mmm. That
is
good. I never would have imagined.”

He never could have imagined, either.

 

That evening as he dropped, exhausted, onto the motel bed, he decided it was time to reflect on his relationship with his niece.

Chocolate sauce. Sharing ice cream. The picture wouldn't leave his head.

Disgusted with his wandering mind, he forced himself to remember his goal. Proving he could take care of Lisa. And it hadn't been a bad day with her. It had been much better than the day before. She'd glowered at Brian, but he couldn't remember one time all afternoon that she had looked at him in that closed, arms-crossed position. Maybe he wasn't facing the impossible after all.

Except resisting the ridiculous attraction to Josie.

Focus, Michael.

He popped off the bed, unable to lie still. Why couldn't he quit thinking about her?

He ran his hand through his hair.
This has got to stop. It's insane.

He jerked out his cell phone and put a call through to his brother.

Gary picked up. “Michael, it's good to hear from you. How are things—”

“How'd the dinner with Tom go?”

“What's wrong? Is Lisa—”

“She's fine. How's the Mason loan coming?”

A pause. “I wrapped it up.”

“They're taking out the loan with us?”

“The loan, checking, pension, payroll…The whole nine yards.”

What Michael had been working on for months? The banking relationship that had eluded him? “How?”

“Tom and I connected. He said he's changed his mind and wants to work with us.”

Which meant Michael had been the problem all along.

“That's great, Gary. Man…” He plopped down in a chair. “Congratulations. What a coup.”

Gary laughed. “Does that mean you'll promote me to VP?”

“Hey, you landed the Mason accounts. You deserve it. I'll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, big brother. Now, on to more important things.”

Michael drew a blank. More important?

“Our niece?” Gary prompted.

Oh, of course.
Lisa. His reality—at least temporary reality—so far removed from what he'd always thought was important.

But his responsibility at the bank, his place in the Charleston community…They didn't feel quite so much a part of him at the moment.

Then again, neither did Gatlinburg and Lisa.

 

Early the next morning, Josie decided it was a perfect day for a hike. As Lisa called Brian to invite him, Josie tossed drinks into a cooler. Once it was full, she opened the freezer for ice.

The sight of a half gallon of French vanilla ice cream, left over from a dessert she'd made a month ago, made her smile.

“What are you grinning about?” Lisa asked as she hurried into the kitchen in baggy jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt.

“Oh, nothing. Just remembering something.”

“Brian backed out again. Said he had to work. But I think he's afraid of Uncle Michael.”

“Wouldn't you be? The man's all dark and scary whenever he mentions you and boys in the same sentence.”

“He's, like, so overprotective. I'll never have a life.”

“It's because he loves you and wants the best for you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“He does. I can tell.”

“How?” Lisa acted tough, but looked so eager to hear.

As Josie racked her brain to come up with something good he'd done, she realized she didn't have to look far. Mike had improved by leaps and bounds in the three days he'd been there. “Parents have protective instincts. He's feeling what a parent feels. And that's a good thing.”