made up. Her hair was more golden, like Michael’s, than red like her daughter’s, and fell in a smooth swing around a wrinkle-free face that didn’t show a single sign of her late night. Ever the perfect hostess, she indicated to the housekeeper to bring in another plate even as she rose to give her daughter a kiss on the cheek. “What a lovely surprise.”
“Lovely?” her father derided, snapping his newspaper shut and slapping it onto the table. He gave Alexia a dark look. “I had higher expectations of your moving back here, young lady.”
For a second, just one sparkling bright second, Alexia’s heart melted. He’d wanted her back? He’d anticipated her return?
“And this is how you behave now you’re here? By insulting me and my guest?”
Silly heart, she chided, sliding into a chair and setting her purse at her feet to give herself time to blink away the unexpected tears.
“I’m sorry you saw it as an insult,” she apologized when she looked up, her words sincere. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”
She’d promised herself when she’d moved back to San Diego that she’d handle her relationship with her parents in a mature, dignified fashion. No hiding, no avoiding, no drama.
“I’m sure Alexia had a good reason for leaving,” Margaret chimed in, irritation giving an extra snap to her words. “Let it be, Elliot. She’s only been home a week, probably hasn’t even unpacked yet. The last thing she needs right now is to worry about a relationship.”
The tension ratcheting down a notch, Alexia gave her mother a grateful smile. It’d been rare growing up that their mother sided against their father. Allies must present a united front, after all.
“We’ll have dinner next weekend,” Margaret continued, gesturing to Alexia to have some fruit. “Just a quiet little get-together. You can invite the lieutenant then, Elliot.”
Alexia’s shoulders sagged. She fisted the crisp white fabric of her skirt between her fingers to keep from banging them on the table. She specialized in communication. Why could she never get through to her parents?
“I’m sorry, Mother,” she tried again, calling on patience. “But I’m not interested in dating Lieutenant Landon. Not last night, not next week. Not ever.”
“That’s ridiculous,” her father stated. “He’s a fine young man. A great career ahead of him. You’re just being stubborn out of habit.”
“No. I’m trying to be clear. I’ve just moved to town and, as Mother said, haven’t even unpacked yet. I start a new job tomorrow, one that’s going to take all my focus and concentration. I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”
At least, not anymore. She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. Yesterday, she’d been wide-open to the idea.
“Speaking of that job,” the admiral said, propping his elbows on the table and giving her a steely look. “I’d like for you to meet with the head of the Dillard Institute next week. They have an opening for an acoustical engineer. Now that you have top-level clearance, you’d qualify just fine.”
“I have a job already. One I moved across the country for.” Stress did a grinding little twist in her gut as Alexia realized that her walking out the night before was only the opening salvo to her father’s list of issues. He had a whole arsenal of complaints to shoot her way.
Her father waved away her objection. “You’ll need to change jobs. Did you see today’s paper? There’s a write-up about you and that sex-research grant in there. It’s completely unacceptable.”
Unacceptable. How often had she heard that over the years? Closing her eyes, Alexia tried to breathe past the knot in her chest. Why had she expected things to change?
“Are you paying attention, young lady?”
He never used her name. Maybe he didn’t know it. All her life, she’d been young lady. And for this, she was making herself ill? Worrying herself into misery, all while apologizing for making an adult choice in a matter that was completely her decision?
Alexia opened her eyes, lifted her napkin from her lap and set it on the table next to her plate. She gave her mother, then her father, a distant smile and got to her feet.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he snapped.
“I’d hoped that in moving back we could heal our relationship. If not come to love and enjoy one another, at least reach a respectful camaraderie,” she informed them in the same smooth, distant cadence she’d used delivering her dissertation at the age of twenty-two. “Unfortunately, in the handful of hours we’ve spent in each other’s company I’ve come to realize that would be impossible.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Margaret said with a sigh, topping her orange juice off with more champagne.
“No, Mother, I’m being practical.” Alexia bent down to pick up her purse, then faced her father. “You’ve made it clear that I’ll never be good enough to meet your standards.”
“You mean you won’t try to meet them.”
“Since that would require that I date men you choose, regardless of my feelings about them, and that I change my career to suit your preferences, then no. I won’t.”
“If you walk out that door, you’re finished with this family.” The admiral’s voice was as emotionless as if he’d just recited the weather forecast. Of course, he probably figured the weather was more cooperative than his eldest child.
For the first time since she’d walked into her parents’ house that morning, Alexia smiled. “That’s the last thing you said to me when I graduated college and moved to New York.”
She didn’t wait for a response. There was no point.
* * *
THREE HOURS, FOUR IBUPROFEN and a cold compress later, Alexia lay on her couch practicing meditative breathing. The now-lukewarm cloth across her eyes dimmed the light while the soothing sounds of her relaxation tape played through her earbuds.
Suddenly, someone pressed a hand against her arm.
She screamed. Heart racing, she jackknifed. The damp terry cloth went flying one way, her iPod the other.
“Calm down,” Michael said, both hands raised as if to prove he was unarmed. “It’s just me.”
“What’re you doing here?” She eyed the cloth now hanging off the rosewood table, but didn’t have the energy to move it. Instead, she dropped back to her pillow and tossed her forearm over her eyes.
“I heard you had brunch with the parents. So I brought ice cream.”
Alexia shifted her arm just enough to peer out. Michael shook the white bag as proof.
“Your favorite. Double-chocolate caramel with almonds.” He waited until she was upright before handing it to her. “The spoon’s in the bag.”
Chocolate might not fix everything, but it sure made suffering through it a lot easier, Alexia decided as she opened her treat.
“I
