Family Mine
Auteur·e
Elizabeth Krueger
Lectures
15,9K
Chapitres
10
Chapter One
The small crowd at the Colton High School soccer field was cheering wildly. Only two minutes into the game, and Colton had already scored their first goal. After all, it was not for nothing that Colton ranked first in the state of Indiana. There were ten experienced seniors on this team, and this year they had as their new coach Stoney Macreay.
Stoney Macreay. Meredith Blackmoore sat midway up the bleachers, her arm loosely wrapped around her daughter, Tess, and watched the coach shout instructions to his team. He hadn’t seen her yet, but she knew their meeting was inevitable. This crowd wasn’t large enough to lose herself in. She felt tense, strung out, and wished with all her heart she hadn’t given in to her family and come here. The waiting was intolerable…
Down on the Colton bench, Meredith’s brother, Roger, moved his body in little eager bounces, ready to go whenever the coach called him. He’d been getting quite a bit of playing time lately. He was one of Colton’s up-and-coming juniors, and already Stoney was moving Roger and several others more and more often into the games.
Meredith knew this because everyone in her family talked about it. A lot. Blackmoores always supported each other in their chosen endeavors. Which made her reluctance to attend any of Roger’s games all the more obvious.
Not that Mom and Dad didn’t understand. They did, only too well. “Stoney isn’t his brother Tom,” her mother had finally said. “And he isn’t Tom’s father, either. He’s always been polite to us, and he’s showed no prejudice to Roger. You ought to go, honey. Instead of hiding away.”
“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of,” her father had added gruffly. “This is a small town. You’ll have to see Stoney Macreay sometime. Go to a game and get it over with.”
But her mother and father didn’t know everything, she thought darkly. Still, in the end she had allowed herself to be convinced.
Mom and Dad were here, of course. They were sitting with Roger’s girlfriend, Beth, three rows down and to the right. Mom, wearing a bright red cardigan, was calling out encouragement to the entire Colton team. Dad was standing, his hands shielding his eyes from the brilliant Indiana sun, waiting with enthusiasm to equal Roger’s for the coach to call his son into the game.
Three more minutes passed. Colton scored another goal. They were outshooting the other team three to one. Coach Macreay called up Roger and another boy named Adam Brown to enter play.
Roger sprang forward. Running in place, he waited for the buzzer to give him permission to enter the field.
“That’s Uncle Roger,” Tess said excitedly. “See—he’s number fifteen! He’s going to play now, Mommy.” Tess clapped her hands. “I hope he scores a point!”
“Me too, sweetie,” Meredith said. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed for him, okay?”
Meredith’s eyes wandered down to the left. Sitting alone, looking perfectly poised and supremely sure of herself, was Stoney’s latest blond bombshell. She’d been dropped off by someone driving a little yellow roadster, just minutes before the game was to start. Meredith had watched the blonde get Stoney’s attention, then blow him a luxuriant kiss. Stoney had grinned appreciatively before turning back to his boys.
But Meredith didn’t have to see this little exchange to know who the woman was. It was the long feathered hair that gave her away. And the total makeup job for an afternoon of high school game-watching. And the skintight stretch pants, accompanied by a deep blue blouse that opened just enough to reveal the beginnings of an overripe bosom.
She was Stoney’s, all right.
The blonde looked just like all the other women Stoney had draped over his body for as long as Meredith could remember. When he had played soccer for State U. and had dated one of the cheerleaders, for instance. And afterward, when he had been the star forward of the Black Knights, for whom he had played professional soccer for six brilliantly triumphant years.
Stoney Macreay had been the news media’s baby. He was the golden boy who had it all—all the money, all the success, all the romance. And if he sometimes had a flaring temper and a cruel wit—well, those things also made for scintillating press.
Then, at the end of last season, Stoney had fallen hard and been kicked—not on purpose, everyone swore. But his right kneecap was fractured and the ligaments all up and down his right thigh were torn badly. Stoney Macreay’s professional life as a soccer player was over. With his manager at his side, he had solemnly announced his premature retirement before a huge crowd of weeping fans.
Weeping.
Meredith rolled her eyes. Jocks. They were all alike. The heroes of society. She wouldn’t give a plugged nickel for any of them.
“Look, Mommy! Look! Roger’s running with the ball! He’s going to kick it in! Mommy! Watch!” Tess had jumped up on the bench behind her and was practically screaming in her ear.
But the opposing goalie caught the ball. Meredith saw her brother mouth some words at the goalie, and the other player’s face darkened in sudden rage. Smirking, Roger turned and ran downfield with the rest of his team to receive the kick.
Roger played for about five more minutes before he was called back to the bench. Meredith had to admit her family was right—he was a darned good player for someone just up from the JV ranks. But that moment at the net bothered her, even though such behavior was probably just part of the game. Still, she remembered other times lately when Roger had been sullenly rude and quick to anger.
Maybe it was just male hormones.
She was glad her only child was a girl. No testosterone to deal with there. All the PMS in the world couldn’t equal a teenage boy’s aggressive drive.
The halftime whistle sounded. Colton led, three to nothing. Stoney’s blond knockout stood and stretched sinuously, like a bored, well-fed cat. As the boys came in off the field, Stoney absentmindedly turned and surveyed the small group of fans.
Colton was a traditional town. Football in the fall. Basketball in the winter. Baseball in the spring. Even with Stoney Macreay coaching, soccer was still not a big draw. Most of the people here today were friends and family of the players. These kids played for the love of the game, not for local adulation.
Men and their games, Meredith thought sarcastically. They start young and never grow up.
She wondered if Stoney missed the bright lights. She’d been surprised and dismayed when he had announced his intention to come back to his hometown and spend a year or so coaching a Class B team. Especially since she knew his family was no longer here. Just as the thought was thinning her mouth into a tight line, Stoney’s casual gaze passed her by.
Then stopped. Narrowed. Returned to her face, and stayed. And even from this distance, she saw something indefinable flicker in the shadowed depths of his gaze. Something that said he’d been waiting for this moment as much as she had been avoiding it.
The sun was at his back, surrounding his gold-streaked head with a halo of light, his features shaded so that the dominant angles of his face—beloved by photographers everywhere—were momentarily softened. He didn’t move, didn’t smile, didn’t nod. He just stood there, watching her as if he had all the time in the world. Waiting for her to react.
It was too late now to look away, to pretend she hadn’t really seen him. She could only stare distantly back, her chin raised and her eyes cold, doing her best to deny the recognition and memories sizzling between them like a suddenly live wire. Tess jumped down from the bench above, and instinctively Meredith surrounded her daughter with a protective arm. Some of her tension must have communicated itself to Tess, because the child became quickly and uncustomarily still.
Stoney shifted and broke the contact. Deliberately his gaze traveled to Tess, took in her dark brown hair, her little upturned nose, her lithe young body encased in jeans and T-shirt. He stared at Meredith’s daughter a long time, his face an expressionless mask.
Abruptly Meredith turned to Tess, making a show of buttoning her child’s fall jacket. She was dismayed to find she was trembling slightly. “Would you like to go play on the swing set, honey?” she said. There was a family playground just south of the soccer field; several young children, bored with the game, were there already.
“I’d rather stay and watch Uncle Roger.”
“Look. There’s Suzy. And Nicole. And it’s halftime. Why don’t you go play?”
For a moment Tess stood, indecisive. Then, with the blitheness of youth, she said, “All right. I’ll be back soon, though. To watch Roger.” Then she ran off.
When Meredith returned her attention to the field, Stoney was huddled with his team, his outstretched arm punctuating some point he was making. Roger, his body never completely still, was listening intently.
Roger’s girlfriend, Beth, rose and made her way to Meredith’s side.
Beth Pierson was just about the prettiest sixteen-year-old in Colton, Meredith thought. She was a nice girl, too—quiet and, until she got to know you, kind of shy.
“Wow!” Beth said. “Did you see the way Coach Macreay stared at you?”
No, Meredith thought wryly. I missed it entirely.
“Did he?” she said with apparent uninterest.
“Yeah. And look at the blonde. She appears a little green, if you ask me.”
Meredith couldn’t help herself. She turned and looked.
The woman was glaring daggers at her. The blonde’s perfectly made-up eyes were contracted in angry speculation; her pouty lips rude and hard looking. Impulsively Meredith gave her a wide, innocently friendly smile. The woman flounced and turned away.
“It’s all right,” Meredith said under her breath. “You can have him, honey.”
“What?” Beth asked.
Meredith stood. “Nothing,” she said dismissively.
“Do you and Coach know each other?”
“We’ve met once or twice. A long time ago.”
“Umm-”
“Look. I’m going to sit by Mom. You want to come with me?”
“In a minute. I think I’ll get a hot chocolate or something.”
“See you in a few, then.”
“Okay, Meredith,” Beth said. “See you.”
Well, Meredith thought, stepping down the bleachers to the empty space by her mother. So it happened. They’d seen each other, she and Stoney. It hadn’t been such a big deal, after all. The earth hadn’t quaked; the heavens remained closed. Nothing had changed.
So Meredith told herself, and she tried to believe it. She tried to believe it so hard that the entire second half passed in a blur. Late in the game Roger scored a goal, and she wouldn’t even have noticed except for the fact that her parents, Tess and Beth were all standing screaming their heads off. Then the game was over. Colton won, of course. Seven to nothing. Afterward Roger came running up to where his family was waiting.
“Fine job, son,” Meredith’s father said, giving Roger a big bear hug. “Great goal you scored.”
“You played marvelously,” her mother added.
“Wonderful game, Uncle Roger!” Tess squealed.
Meredith merely smiled. It was obvious that Roger was only half paying attention, anyway. As soon as he could, he turned from his folks and lifted Beth down out of the stands. “Congratulations, Rog,” Meredith heard Beth say breathlessly before her brother wrapped his arm around his girlfriend and kissed her deeply.
There was a moment of shocked silence. “Roger!” Meredith’s father remonstrated. Roger raised his head, but instead of looking shamefaced or embarrassed, he seemed on the verge of real anger. Then his young face went deliberately still, almost sullen. He patted Beth’s rear with a studied familiarity that bordered on insolence. “See you tonight?” he said.
Beth’s face was flaming red. She gave Roger a jerky nod. “Sure, Rog,” she said before throwing Meredith’s parents a quick apologetic look and scurrying off to her car.
Meredith’s mom urged, “You’d better have a talk with that boy!” and her dad nodded, his expression troubled.
Meredith turned to see Stoney’s blonde move with languid grace onto the field. Almost absentmindedly Stoney put his arm around her waist. It was a careless enough gesture, but it was all the encouragement the woman needed to snuggle up disgustingly close. “Stoney, honey,” Meredith heard her say, “I haven’t seen you in weeks.“ Then the blonde reached up and pulled his head down for a kiss. Just as Stoney was moving to accommodate her, he looked up and saw the hard cynicism in Meredith’s face.
She sensed his sudden stillness. His eyes took on that waiting look again, even as something hot and somehow accusatory burned in their depths. For some reason Meredith felt suddenly guilty, like a Peeping Tom. She drew in a breath. It wasn’t her fault they were all over each other, on public display. At least the blonde was all over him, anyway. Meredith refused to look away.
His right eyebrow rose. His mouth lifted in a mirthless smile. He looked down at the curvaceous sweet thing at his side and lowered his head, giving the woman the kiss she was demanding. And a good, long kiss it was, too.
“Meredith,” her mom said, fretting. “Don’t stare, for goodness’ sake.”
Meredith’s face went red. For a minute she had forgotten there was anyone else around. She had forgotten where she was. She sat down with a hard plump on the bleacher seat.
“We’re going,” her mom said. “We’ll take Roger. Why don’t you stay and play with Tess?”
“I have to go back to work, Mom,” Meredith said.
“Right away?” the older woman asked in dismay. “It’s Saturday afternoon, and you’ve already put in God knows how many hours this week. Your daughter needs you, Meredith.”
“Kathleen!” Meredith’s dad said sharply. “What Meredith has to do, she has to do. We’ll take care of Tess.”
But Tess had already run back to the swing set, where her little-girl legs were pumping her high in the sky. “Can I stay, Mommy?” she called out, begging. “Pleeaase?”
“I’ll let her play a few minutes,” Meredith said slowly. “I’ll stay and play with her for a while.”
“You don’t have to, Merry,” her dad said quietly.
“Yes, I do,” she said. “Mom’s right, Dad. Tess is growing up fast. I need to spend more time with her. I can work later, after she’s in bed.” She forced a smile. “You guys go on. Tess and I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”
She waved her family off. She loved her parents dearly and was often overwhelmed with gratitude for what they’d done for her, but sometimes she wished…
A picture formed itself in her head. Of herself on a college campus. Studying. Learning. Of a house, white with blue shutters. Not large, but her own. Of a husband, sharing her dreams with her. Of a family—her own—separate from her parents.
She gave a wistfully small, defiant toss to her head. Maybe someday those things would be hers. But for now she was lucky to have all she did. It was too stupid to feel sorry for herself, and she wouldn’t do it. Unconsciously she straightened her shoulders and went to play with Tess.
Only she really didn’t do much playing. She sat on a park bench and watched Tess leave the swings to go rough-and-tumble through a jungle gym. Her daughter certainly had a lot of energy. Tough, wiry little arms and legs, always reaching out for something to do, to climb on, to jump over.
From where she was sitting, she could just see the parking lot. The rest of the fans were packing up and going home. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Stoney open the door to his sports car so his lady friend could slide in. He walked around to the other side and got in himself. His car engine roared to life. She waited for him to drive away.
But he didn’t go anywhere. He let the car idle for a moment. He turned and said something to his girlfriend. Then he cut the engine and got back out, walking to where Meredith sat in solitary silence on the bench.
She closed her eyes briefly and clenched her fists. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. It didn’t take him long to arrive at a spot next to her, yet she did nothing to acknowledge his presence. She felt him look at her, felt him wait to speak as if he were weighing his words.
“I’d like to talk with her,” he said at last.
“No.”
Tess, however, had other plans. The child looked over from her position atop a tall slide, and immediately came whooshing down.
“Hey!” Tess said. “You’re the coach!”
“That’s right.” Stoney hunkered down on his ankles so he could meet Tess’s eyes.
“My uncle plays on your team.”
“I know.” His mouth quirked upward in a smile.
“He made a score today!”
Stoney’s smile grew broader. “I know that, too.”
“This is my mommy.”
Stoney looked at Meredith, slow and easy. His eyes appeared as they always had to her—stormy and deep. “We’ve met.”
Meredith stood, gathering her purse.
He inclined his head. “Your mother and I are old friends.”
For Tess’s sake she swallowed the acid retort that rose swiftly to her lips, and said merely, “Congratulations on the win, Stoney.”
“Thanks. The boys played well.” He rose, stretching his body upward like the lion she once thought he was.
She didn’t say anything else. Small talk was never easy for her—she’d become an adult too soon for that. Besides, she didn’t want to converse with Stoney Macreay. He’d always made her feel things she didn’t understand. His eyes on her face brought a rising warmth in her cheeks; she knew she was blushing. She looked away, at her daughter.
“Time to go, Tess,” she said. “Run and get in the car, sweets.”
“Aw, Mom. Do I have to?”
“Yes. Now. Go on.”
“Meredith—” Stoney began.
“Bye, Coach,” Tess said, running obediently to the car.
“Gotta go, Stoney,” Meredith said. “Maybe I’ll see you around. At Roger’s games.”
Stoney didn’t move. In order to get to her car, she had to walk by him. She took a couple of steps before he grasped her arm, tight. To an observer—to the blonde in the car—it would have been a deceptively casual gesture. But his fingers bit into her skin, and his eyes, turned toward Meredith, were suddenly blazing.
Meredith met his gaze, saying nothing. After a while she looked pointedly at his hand upon her arm. He didn’t let go.
“She doesn’t look much like Tom, does she?” he said.
Meredith’s head snapped up. “No,” she replied, giving a light, scornful laugh. “Which I’m sure would be a great relief to him. If he’d ever seen her, that is.”
“Tom’s married now,” Stoney said carefully.
“Oh?”
“Two years ago. They have a kid. A boy.”
Actually she hadn’t thought about Tom in a long time. The thought of him was an intrusion now. “Fine,” she said with deceptive calm. Then she repeated, “Time for me to go, Stoney.”
If anything, his grip on her arm grew tighter. “I’ve been waiting to see you, Meredith. I’d like to talk with you about some things.”
“You’re not involved,” she said. “And I’ve got nothing to say.”
He laughed low, under his breath. “Tom was a bastard, Meredith. And a fool to give you up. I’m sorry for what he did to you.”
She kept her head up as she met his eyes. She felt very cool now. Very cool and distant. “I’ve got Tess,” she said. “I’m not sorry.” Then she added, “But I do want to be left alone, Stoney Macreay. Totally alone.”
Something in his eyes changed then, and she felt a little ragged breath catch in her throat. “Alone,” he repeated flatly. Then he shook his head. “I’ve tried that, Meredith.” As if he couldn’t help himself, his gaze moved slowly and with almost unwilling deliberation to her lips.
She sucked in her breath tightly. How long had it been since she’d been looked at like that? Something in her stirred, but she clamped it down. “You’ve got a willing body sitting in the car over there, remember, Macreay?” she made herself say, giving a thin-lipped smile.
She was surprised by the warm rush of color that suffused his cheeks. “Right,” he said lightly. “Too true. I’ve got women all over me. All the time. Is that what you’re thinking, Meredith?”
“Yes.” Her answer was steady. “And I’m thinking some other things, Stoney. Like you don’t need me. And Lord knows I don’t need you. I’ve got family. We—all of us—take care of our own.”
His eyes seemed to shutter themselves against her. “You’re all right, then. Things are all right.”
“Yes,” she said.
She said nothing else, but her unspoken words were clear: Leave Tess and me alone, Stoney Macreay.
She thought for a minute he was going to let her go, but he said instead, so low that she had to strain her ears to catch his words, “Families can’t take care of every need, Meredith Blackmoore.”
His arrogance took her breath away. She felt suddenly naked and vulnerable. She said the first thing that came into her head, regretting her defensive cruelty even as she spoke, “How would you know?”
He went still then, absorbing the knife she had driven into his heart. His eyes never strayed from her face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was…”
“True,” he said bitterly. “You never were a liar, Meredith.”
“Please let me go.”
He stared at her a moment longer, then released her arm. She turned away from him, walked with proud grace to where Tess was waiting in her old sedan, and—without one backward glance—headed home.
* * *
Stoney stalked around the hood of his high-priced sports car. He jerked open the door and flung his body into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him. He sat with his hands gripping the steering wheel, staring wrathfully out the window.
Damn her. Damn her cool young beauty and her clear, honest eyes.
He thought of the child. Tess, she had called her. A pretty name. He remembered the way she had talked about her Uncle Roger.
His face darkened. He was also Tess’s uncle. And he wanted the child to know it.
He may not know much about families, but he knew enough to understand that in a normal world, fathers didn’t abandon their children, grandparents didn’t deny their grandchildren and uncles were a part of their nieces’ lives.
Normal. Hell.
Besides, it was clear enough that Meredith hadn’t changed. She didn’t want—
“Stoney, honey.” The intentionally husky, sensuous female voice brought him back to harsh reality. “Remember me, darling?”
For one brief second Stoney felt absurd, inane. The sudden emptiness in his gut was all too familiar—it happened to him more and more frequently since he’d quit being a pro. Hell, it had happened before that.
He stretched his arm out along the leather bucket seat and turned to Karen. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, at least half meaning it.
“Who is she?” Karen was studying her perfectly manicured nails.
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “The sister of one of my players.”
“You know her before?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “A little.”
Karen shifted. She hated being ignored. For a second he caught a flash of feline fury in her eyes. “More than a little, Stoney,” she drawled.
Stifling a sigh, he put his hand around Karen’s silken neck, using his thumb to rub the little hollow that was one of her unique pleasure points. He didn’t think the action out—he just automatically did what was necessary to distract Karen from asking so many damned questions. He hated people who asked questions. If you answered them you had to reveal yourself, and that was something Stoney never did.
Karen closed her eyes and made a little throaty sound that was more drama than spontaneous reaction. “She’s not your type,” she purred.
That was the truth. Even six years ago, when she’d been barely sixteen, Meredith Blackmoore had been way out of his league.
Too bad his brother Tom hadn’t felt the same way.
Karen pouted. He’d been thinking of other things, and his hand had stilled upon her neck. She turned to him now, her mouth as full and inviting as the damned magazine model she wanted to be. She’d even had collagen implanted in her lips.
Fake lips, he thought. Fake moans. Fake love. Fake life. It wasn’t all in his past, as he’d hoped. Even in Colton he hardly knew what was real.
“Stoney.” If possible, those lips got poutier.
Too bad he’d never felt less like kissing them. Still, Stoney knew what was expected. He’d always known. He leaned over and put his mouth against hers. Karen put her hand high on his leg. The one where all his muscles and tissues were torn to kingdom come. “Stoney,” she said again, this time lowering her voice to an inviting whisper.
He pulled away, effectively hiding his sudden distaste. He started the engine, felt the power of the sports car surge into life. Karen’s hand was still on his thigh. Her lips stayed in their perpetual pout.
But as they drove down the road to the house he’d rented, Stoney wasn’t thinking about Karen’s full lips or the hand that was squeezing the muscles of the leg that was never going to work the way it should again. He wasn’t thinking of Karen at all.
He was thinking about lovely dark-haired Meredith Blackmoore.
He knew what she expected—she expected him to leave her alone.
But for once in his colorful life, Stoney Macreay wasn’t going to live up to someone else’s expectations. He was going to do what he wanted, and to hell with the consequences.
Besides, Meredith hadn’t always preferred to be alone. There was a time when she had belonged to his brother.
And as he drove the rest of the way to his house, Stoney Macreay wondered fiercely whom she belonged to now.
