Ain’t Misbehaving

“I’ve noticed,” Kay said wryly.

“Takes after his father. There’s another one who won’t take anything from anyone.”

“I gather that it wasn’t so easy raising the pair of them,” Kay said dryly.

Jane chuckled, and then said honestly, “They expect too much of themselves, always have. Mitch is even worse than his father. All those years-he couldn’t stand taking a thing from us. It used to eat at him, which was so damned foolish. This was the room where he grew up,” she said abruptly, flicking on a light switch.

For a moment, Kay intently studied Jane before glancing into the room. The mystery of his scar and now his mother’s comments-all those years? What years? Startled, she glanced slowly around the room-and then rather rapidly back to Jane.

“I know,” Jane said wryly. “You were expecting a bed and leftover teddy bears. Well, it was Mitch’s idea to put all that stuff in the attic. Even before he made a down payment on that house, he started remodeling this room- over my vigorous protests, I’ll have you know. He claimed his father always wanted a place to putter with stones…”

The room looked like Mitch’s octagonal turret, with a long bench and special lighting, microscopes and alcohol beakers for testing gems in solution… Kay was beginning to recognize the equipment.

“There’s one room that’s specifically Mitch, that he couldn’t do anything about,” Jane said with satisfaction. “Come on and I’ll show you.” She glanced back at Kay. “You’re free to interrupt, you know. The men are always telling me I talk incessantly.”

“You don’t at all,” Kay protested instantly.

“Yes, I do. I absolutely love to talk. Aaron calls it gossip, but you know something? It isn’t gossip. I don’t like to tell tales about other people-I just like people. And the things that happen to them… Now watch this step…” At the bottom of the elegant flight of mahogany stairs, Jane had opened a door to another stairway. These steps were carpeted, dark and flanked by a wrought-iron railing.

A cement-floored laundry room led through an organized storage area to another door. When Jane flicked on a light, Kay’s lips parted in surprise. Jane chuckled. “Believe me, installing this was no small feat.”

“I can believe that.” The last thing she’d expected to see was a regulation-sized swimming pool. The scent of chlorine filled her nostrils. Pale blue tile surrounded the pool, and the water was a clear, smooth aquamarine.

“Of course, we built it for Mitch, and we’d planned to drain it after he left, but Aaron and I have taken to going for a swim after dinner every night. My husband claims we’re getting too sedentary,” Jane said wryly. “Do you like to swim, Kay?”

“I…yes.” Kay turned from the mesmerizing color of the waters to smile at Jane. Of course we built it for Mitch? “I rarely had the chance to use a pool, but my family went camping every summer, always by a lake. My father used to claim I had webbed feet.”

“Mitch, too. I swear his skin was water-wrinkled all summer. I can remember when he was eleven, I thought he was going to leave home over the issue of a boat. He mowed every lawn in the neighborhood, and then, when he had saved enough money for a little sailboat…we said no. We thought he was too young.” Jane grinned at her. “Mitch was long on harebrained schemes at eleven, not particularly long on judgment. You see all these gray hairs?”

“I don’t see a one,” Kay insisted.

Jane laughed, and they wandered back upstairs, still chatting. Mitch intercepted them in the kitchen-actually, he reached out and snatched Kay from behind his mother’s back. Winding his arms around her waist, he snuggled her against his chest and burrowed a kiss in her neck. “Now, don’t you believe anything my mother’s been telling you,” he growled.

“Take your hands off her, Mitch. You’re not taking her home yet. She’s agreed to stay for a few hands of bridge.”

“Kay would never do that to me,” Mitch informed his mother.

***

They played until ten. Mitch, for all his voluble protests, was an excellent player who remembered every card, to his mother’s annoyance. Every time Jane made one of her more “creative bids,” as she called them, Mitch and his father exchanged amused glances.

Aaron had claimed Kay for a partner, his slow winks and half smiles not quite ethical but certainly helpful to Kay, who hadn’t played much of the game. Aaron was the kind of man who very quietly took care of people.

Mitch was the same way. Though they’d talked of going to a movie after the dinner at his parents’ place, Kay expected that was merely to ensure that she wasn’t forced into more of his parents’ company than she was initially comfortable with. Once he saw she was honestly enjoying herself, he no longer pressed their leaving, but more than once she caught his eye on her, assessing her comfort, waiting for a sign that she wished to leave.

She gave him no such sign, but when the rubber ended just before ten, he stood up and announced that they ought to start for home. Jane looped an arm through Kay’s as she walked her toward the door. “I haven’t had near enough time to talk to you,” she complained. “I never even asked you about your family-big, small, medium- sized?”

“One sister,” Kay responded. “Jana’s younger than I am by eight years. My dad’s an engineer-he worked here at the university for a number of years. Five years ago, they moved to Connecticut.”

“You must miss them, especially around the holidays.” Jane delved into the closet for their coats. “Do you like children, Kay?”

Mitch coughed ostentatiously. “Mother.”

“I withdraw that question.” Jane gave her son a disgusted look. “You know, I was having a lot more fun talking with Kay when you weren’t anywhere around.”

“Were you?” Mitch asked wryly.

“In fact, you can go home and I’ll just keep Kay.” Jane winked at Kay. “Next time, just come without him.”

“And wear earmuffs,” Mitch advised, piloting Kay toward the door.

“I heard that. Aaron, are you going to let your son talk to me that way?”

“Could I get in a word?” Kay asked, laughing. “Dinner was terrific. I had a wonderful time-thank you for inviting me.” Impulsively, she reached over to give both Jane and Aaron a hug, before Mitch’s gloved hand captured hers and drew her firmly out the door and toward the car.

They were both laughing as he started the engine, and shivering as well. Huge snowflakes splashed on the windshield; the night had turned cold, and in the distance the lake was swallowing up the crystal flakes in its still black surface. “I wanted you to meet them,” Mitch said wryly. “But I didn’t have in mind subjecting you to five hours of my mother’s less than subtle questions.”

“I love her,” Kay insisted.

“I do, too.” Mitch patted her hand. “And I’ll bet you’d hold up well under Chinese water torture.”

Kay chuckled. “It sounds as if you put her through torture when you were a kid. The boat, when you were eleven?”

Mitch groaned. “Not that old story.” He shot her a sideways glance. “I was a nice kid. Really, I was.”

“Sounds to me as if you were hell on wheels. The stories you told me were tame next to the ones your mother remembers.”

“Hey. Who are you going to believe? My mother or me?”

“Your mother.”

“Talk about fickle. I’m going to trade you in for a more gullible model.”

Kay leaned back against the headrest, smiling. The heat kicked in, puffing through the vents in wonderfully warm waves. Through sleepy eyes, she regarded Mitch. His hands were firm on the wheel and he was battling icy roads, yet his tone was light and his smile relaxed. He hid things so very well.

The evening had uncovered more secrets about him. His parents were affectionate but not possessive or clingy; Kay could see the respect Aaron had for his son. Mitch had hardly been a pampered only child if he’d had to mow lawns at eleven-yet there was the pool.

Kay frowned slightly in the darkness. Something still bothered her about the pool. The Cochrans, for all the comfort and tasteful furnishings of their home, did not strike her as extravagant-and the lake was right there to swim in. Jane had said of course it was for Mitch, as if she’d taken for granted that Kay