When Charles called her at six, he said he had just woken up, and was stunned to hear she had run around all day.
“I'm used to this,” she laughed. “There's no rest for the weary. At least not when you have kids.”
“I don't know how you do it. I feel like I was hit by a bus. I'm a total wuss. How's your patient doing?” He sounded sleepy and sexy.
“Remarkably well. Thank God these kids are young. A lot of the time we have a pretty decent shot at saving them, though not always.”
“I'm glad this one worked out.” He had a vested interest in it now. “What are you doing tonight?”
“We're going to a movie at eight, probably pizza or Chinese before that.” And then she had an idea. She assumed he was too tired to join them, and she was beginning to drag too, but they always had family dinners on Sunday night that were more festive than during the week. “How about joining us for dinner tomorrow?”
“You and your children?” He sounded hesitant, and less enthused than she would have hoped. It was a new concept for him.
“Yes, that would be the idea. We can order in Chinese, or something else if you prefer.”
“I love Chinese takeout. I just don't want to intrude on a family dinner.”
“I think we can handle it. How about you?” She was smiling, and he couldn't think of a good excuse not to.
“Okay,” he said, sounding as though he had just agreed to bungeejump from the Empire State Building, and by his standards he had. Maxine appreciated that he was willing to make the effort. It obviously scared him to death.
“See you tomorrow at six,” she said, as Daphne stood in the room and glared at her.
“Did you just invite him to dinner tomorrow?” Daphne asked as soon as her mother hung up.
“Yes, I did.” And she was not about to ask permission. The children had friends over all the time, whom Maxine welcomed with open arms. She had a right to have friends over too, even if she rarely if ever exercised the privilege.
“Then I'm not eating with you tomorrow,” Daphne snarled.
“Yes, you are,” Maxine said calmly, and reminded her that her friends should be welcome in the house too. “I don't know why you're making such an issue of this, Daphne. He's a perfectly nice person. I'm not running off with him. And you deal with your father's girlfriends all the time.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” Daphne looked horrified, as Maxine shook her head.
“No, he's not, but that wouldn't be the most outrageous thing that ever happened. It's a lot more unusual that I haven't dated in years. You don't need to make such a big deal of this.” But maybe she did. She obviously felt threatened by Charles and the whole concept of a man near her mother. And Jack didn't like it either. “Nothing's going to happen here, Daff. But for chrissake, lighten up. Let's just treat it like what it is. A friend coming to dinner. If it turns out to be more than that one day, I'll tell you. For now, all it is is dinner. Okay?” As she said it, she thought of his kissing her that morning. So Daphne wasn't entirely wrong. It was more than just dinner. Daphne didn't say a word, she just walked out of her mother's room in silence.
When Charles showed up the next day, Daphne was in her room, and Maxine had to coax, beg, and threaten her to finally emerge for dinner. She came to the kitchen, but she made it clear with her body language and behavior that she was there under protest. She ignored Charles completely, and looked at her mother in fury. And when they served the Chinese food that arrived at seven, Daphne refused to eat. Sam and Jack more than made up for it. Charles congratulated Jack on winning the game the day before, and asked him the details of the play.
And after that, Sam and Charles struck up a lively conversation. Daphne looked at both her brothers like traitors, and was back in her room in twenty minutes. Charles mentioned it to Maxine while she was cleaning up the kitchen, and putting the leftovers away. Dinner had been good, and Charles had done very well. It was obviously an effort for him to talk to children, but he was trying. It was all completely unfamiliar to him.
“Daphne hates me,” he said, looking upset, eating another fortune cookie that had been left on the table.
“She doesn't hate you. She doesn't know you. She's just scared. I've never really dated, and I haven't brought anyone home for dinner. She's afraid of what this means.”
“Did she tell you that?” He looked intrigued, and Maxine laughed.
“No, but I'm a mother and an adolescent shrink. She feels threatened.”
“Did I say something to upset her?” He looked worried.
“No, you were great.” Maxine smiled at him. “She has just decided to take a position. Personally, I hate teenage girls,” Maxine said blithely, and this time he laughed, given what she did for a living. “Actually, fifteen is worse. But it starts at thirteen. Hormones and all that stuff. They should be locked up until they're sixteen or seventeen.”
“That's a hell of a thing to say for a woman who makes a career of dealing with them.”
“Not at all. I know whereof I speak. They all torture their mothers at that age. Their dads are the heroes.”
“I noticed,” he said glumly. Daphne had bragged about hers the first time they met. “How am I doing with the boys?”
“Great,” she said again, and looked into his eyes with a gentle smile. “Thanks for doing this at all. I know it's not your thing.”
“No, but you are,” he said gently. “I'm doing it for you.”
“I know,” she said softly, and before they knew what had happened, they were kissing in the kitchen, and Sam walked in.
“Uh-oh,” he said the moment he saw them, and they jumped apart, looking guilty, as Maxine opened the fridge and tried to look busy. “Daff will kill you if she sees you kissing him,” he said to his mother, and she and Charles both laughed.
“It won't happen again. I promise. Sorry, Sam,” Maxine said. Sam shrugged, grabbed two cookies, and walked out of the room again.
“I really like him,” Charles said warmly.
“It's good for all of them to have you around, even Daphne,” she said calmly. “It's a lot more real than having me all to themselves.”
“I didn't realize I was here on a training mission,” Charles said with a groan, and she laughed again.
They sat in the living room and talked for a while afterward, and Charles left around ten. In spite of Daphne's hostility at dinner, it had been a very pleasant evening. Charles acted as though he had survived going over Niagara Falls in a barrel, and Maxine looked happy when she walked into her room and found Sam in her bed, already half asleep.
“Are you going to marry him, Mom?” he whispered, barely able to keep his eyes open as she kissed him.
“No, I'm not. He's just a friend.”
“Then why were you kissing him?”
“Just like that, because I like him. But that doesn't mean I'm going to marry him.”
“You mean like Dad and the girls he goes out with?”
“Yeah, kind of. It's no big deal.”
“He always says that too.” Sam looked relieved and then drifted off to sleep as she looked at him. The arrival of Charles on the scene had certainly shaken everyone up, but she still thought it was a good thing. And it was fun for her to have a man to go out with. It wasn't a crime, she reminded herself. They'd just have to get used to it. After all, Blake dated. Why couldn't she?
Chapter 11
Blake's time with Arabella in London before Christmas was absolutely magical. He had never been as happy or as besotted with anyone in his life. She had even done a small naked portrait of him. He loved every single moment he spent with her. He took her to St. Moritz for the weekend, and skied with her. They went to Paris for three days to Christmas shop, and stayed at the Ritz. They even went to Venice and stayed in the palazzo he had there. They were the most romantic times he had shared with any woman. And inevitably, he had invited her to come to Aspen with him after Christmas, to spend the vacation with him and his children. He and Arabella were spending Christmas Eve together in London. She wanted him to meet her family, but he wanted to be alone with her and savor every moment. He wasn't big on meeting anyone's family. Things usually went awry when he did, and it raised false expectations. In Arabella's case, he just wanted her to himself, and she was more than willing. She had been staying in his London house with him since they met. And they had already been in the tabloids together numerous times.