morning.”
“Okay. I’ll stall if your mother calls.”
“Please. I’ll call her tomorrow. Or I’ll go see her and Dad.”
With the front door open, he hesitated once again. “Cathie, anything. I mean that.” Matt squeezed her hand one last time, released it, then turned and disappeared into the night.
He was almost home when the phone in his car rang. He snatched it up, thinking Cathie might be calling. “Hello.”
“Matt? Hi. This is Mary. I’m sorry to bother you, dear, and I know you think I’m just a silly old woman who’s much too protective of her daughter….”
“You’ve always been a bother,” he said, trying to make light of this while he decided how much to tell her. “But I don’t think you’re silly, and you’ll never be old.”
“Thank you, dear. I notice you have the tact not to mention my overprotectiveness, and I appreciate that. I don’t suppose you know how my girl is?”
He closed his eyes and wrestled with his conscience. Cathie had a right to explain herself when she was ready. Still, Matt genuinely liked Mary Baldwin, and he didn’t want to lie to her.
“I saw her, and you’re right. She has some things on her mind right now.”
“Things she can’t talk about with her own mother? Matt, is she in trouble?”
“She has some decisions to make, and I’m sure she’s going to talk to you about this, as soon as she figures it out for herself. Mary, please don’t ask me for any more.”
Mary let out a long, slow breath. “Maybe I should drive down there tonight.”
That would work. Especially if it meant Cathie didn’t end up in his arms again. That had been sheer impulse, one that came from his time with the Baldwins. They were a family of touchers. Bear hugs. Kisses. Arms around each other’s shoulders. It was as natural to them as it was for Matt to hold himself apart from everyone. They seemed to have latched on to him in a way he just didn’t understand, and they’d never truly let go. They’d take care of Cathie now.
Still, she’d asked for his help, and he’d promised to try to stall.
“Mary, it’s late,” he reasoned. “Cathie said she’d call you tomorrow, and I told her if she needs anything from me, all she has to do is call.”
“Thank you, dear. If she had to be so far away from home, I feel better knowing you’re close by.”
Not close enough, he thought, feeling guilty that he’d kept his distance while some jerk was taking advantage of her. “She’s special, Mary.”
“I know, dear. She’s a wonderful girl, and I’m very proud of her. Still, I can’t help but worry. She’s always been too trusting for her own good.”
“Yes, she is.” That had to be the problem. She’d trusted the wrong man.
“Matt, we miss you, too. Christmas is coming. All the boys are going to be home this year, and we’d love to have you. And don’t tell me you’re too busy. You have to take some time off every now and then.”
Matt shook his head. No surprise here that Mary would go from mothering Cathie to trying to mother him. No one had ever really done that for him, except Mary. His own mother and father had gotten together when they were far too young, a quick, stormy relationship that had burned out long before Matt had come along. His father liked to go out and have a good time. He drank too much and got into arguments he tended to settle with his fists, or something worse. His mother drank to forget everything, including Matt. He’d been more of a hassle to her than anything else. By the time he was eight, he was roaming the streets, taking care of himself. By the time he was thirteen, he was living on those same streets after his mother kicked him out.
Not that any of that mattered anymore.
“I am planning some time away from the office,” he admitted. Honestly, he couldn’t remember where he decided to go. He recalled pointing to something from an array of brochures and leaving the details to his travel agent.
“Christmas is a time for family,” Mary argued. “Promise me you’ll think about coming here?”
“All right.” He’d think about it. He just wouldn’t go.
“You can’t run from us forever. Sooner or later you’re going to come home.”
“Mary—” he began.
“I’ll be waiting for your call. Bye, Matt.”
With that, she was gone, still able to outmaneuver him as neatly as always. He remembered standing in her kitchen his first morning there, cussing like a sailor, thinking to shock her, to make her turn her back on him, as everyone else had.
He soon learned that Mary didn’t shock easily, and she didn’t get flustered, no matter how filthy his language was. She’d used the same tone with him fifteen years ago, kindhearted, a bit bossy, but polite, as if he’d shown her the same courtesy she showed him. Then she’d smiled and proceeded to steamroll right over him, quietly making her wishes known, until somehow he’d decided he’d be better off doing what she suggested in the first place.
If that tactic didn’t work, shame did. She could make him feel like dirt without so much as lifting a finger. It was all in her eyes and the tone of her voice. No matter what he did wrong, she’d find out eventually. And she’d be hurt, as if she’d somehow failed him and not the other way around. She’d look at him and he could all but hear the words going through her head. What am I going to do with you, Matt? What have I done wrong that I can’t reach you?
Before long, she’d become his conscience. Even if he didn’t care what happened to himself, Mary did. Matt didn’t want to disappoint her. It became a litmus test for him. If I do this, what’s Mary going to think? What’s she going to say?
For the first time, he stopped to think before he shot off his mouth or let fly with his fists. With Mary on one side of him and Cathie on the other, he hadn’t stood a chance. Before they were done, he’d taken a long, hard look at himself and his life, figured out that there comes a time when it doesn’t really matter how screwed up anyone’s parents were. Maybe the world had dealt him a lousy hand, but lots of kids grew up without anyone who gave a damn about them. In the end, it was what he chose to do with his life that counted. Once he realized that, Matt had done surprisingly well for himself. He had a gift for numbers, something Cathie’s father had picked up on right away, and they’d no doubt called in some favors to get him admitted to the university here and to help get him a scholarship.
He had more money than he knew what to do with now, a company of his own that specialized in providing security for financial transactions over the Internet, a huge house, a car that positively reeked of money. He worked hard, and played just as hard when the notion struck him, which it seldom did.
He still couldn’t lie to himself well enough to say he was happy. It had all failed to satisfy him for some reason.
Matt eased back into the soft leather seat of his car and stared into the night.
As always, when he arrived at home, the place was dark and silent. He didn’t really
