Blame It On Paris

if everyone left until the next morning. Will agreed but wanted to speak to the doctor one last time himself. He sent the Maguire women home, arranged for his sisters to get their mom dinner and promised Barbara that he'd be home-her home-before dark. His mother really wanted him to stay with her that night.

Kelly hung tight until he'd talked to the doctor. By the time Will was steering her toward the exit doors, the parking lot was only half-filled, the late-afternoon sun relentless and hot. It was the first second she'd had him alone in hours.

'Thanks for staying,' Will said. 'I didn't realize it was going to take this long.'

'It's fine. I was glad to be there. I like your whole family.'

'And they adored you on sight.'

'They don't adore me, fella. They think I'm the key to keeping you in South Bend. That gives me so much political clout that I can probably trip over my mouth a few dozen times and still land in the plus column.' She added smoothly. 'So…you agreed to take over the company for your dad?'

He startled in surprise. 'How did you know that?'

'Because he's hurt. And he's your father. And I'm guessing it's the first thing he asked you when you went into his room.'

'You've got that right.' He started the car and merged into traffic. When he didn't add anything further, Kelly pushed.

'How're you feeling about it?'

'You mean, because it's the last thing in hell I ever wanted to do?'

He sighed. 'It's exactly what you said. Dad's hurt. That's a whole different thing. He'll be back on his feet in a couple of weeks-which means, knowing my dad, he'll find some way to be in the office at the end of next week, no later.'

'And?' She knew there was more.

'And, I knew from his expression that he thought this accident was the best thing that could have happened. He thought it'd manipulate me into sitting in his chair. Keeping me here.'

'And?'

He shot her a look. 'Before you were in my life, did you know, no one ever pried? I mean, my sisters did, but I learned how to play them when I was a kid. You, though, are worse than a bloodhound.'

'Thank you so much.'

'You're welcome.' He reached over and tracked a finger down her ribs, just to remind her that he knew her hopeless ticklish spots. And to avoid being plagued anymore, he answered her questions. 'It doesn't matter whether he's trying to manipulate me or not. Doesn't matter what I want to do. He's hurt. He needs help. He's family. Even when I want to strangle him, he's still my dad. And that's that.'

He pulled into her driveway a few minutes later, frowning at the look of her place, the way he always did. Tonight, though, he was obviously distracted, and when he stopped the car, she insisted he not walk her to the door. She knew he still had miles to go that night, and that his mom was waiting for him.

Before climbing out. though, she said gently, 'You need to be here, but I know you must be feeling trapped. Still, since you're stuck staying longer. Will, you might as well use the time to forge something different with your dad. I know, I know. It hasn't been going well. But this is another chance, right?

Whether you asked for it or not, it's still another opportunity to try something new, some way to get along better with him.'

'Kelly…' She heard the annoyance in Will's voice, knew-par for the course-that she'd gone too far.

She leaned across the gearshift, which required major acrobatics, and cupped his cheek so she could kiss him. Kissing him was easy enough, but shaping the kiss she wanted was a serious challenge, because she didn't want a plain old smack. She wanted a lip-melting, down-and-dirty. heart-squeezing pressure-cooker of a kiss. When she lifted her head, her heart was racing as if she'd run a three-minute mile, and her spine felt permanently twisted.

She said softly, swiftly. 'I love you, Will.' Before tumbling out of the car and heading inside.

He didn't answer. But then she hadn't given him a chance to.

Right then, neither of them had answers for anything. Much less each other. Kelly thought.

She felt unsettled even before she walked into the apartment-and more so after she saw the mess. Her roommate was out somewhere. There were no signs of life beyond a mound of soda cans, dozens of beer cans, flies buzzing around pizza left in the sink from last night and the stink of dirty socks on the floor near the door.

Normally Skip was a pretty decent roommate, but every once in a while he remembered he was still a college kid and reverted to type. A complete slob. A condemnable-by-any-health-department-standardslob.

She wasn't about to clean up after him. Kelly told herself every time. As she filled the sink with sudsy water and shook out a fresh trash bag, she told herself she was only doing this for herself, because she couldn't stand the mess or the smells. Which was true. Or true enough.

But it was also true that her plan to get out of this dump had become newly complicated. Will was staying longer in South Bend because of his dad now. He'd also asked her to go with him to Paris. She didn't know how or when any of that was going to resolve, which meant that for her to make any sudden, big moves without being sure of all the consequences seemed foolhardy.

Which meant, of course, that she was stuck in this nightmare of a place for a while longer.

Suddenly feeling too ornery to settle on any serious project, she plunked down with her itchy mood and pounced on e-mail. Naturally, there was no response from her father, but that didn't stop her from sending him another post.

Bonsoir, mon pere. I see there's still no response from you…but until I get a message that my e-mails are undeliverable or some clear indication you're blocking me, I'm determined to keep up a dialogue. Even if you think I'm a complete *chameau* and a peau de vache-you're stuck with my being your daughter.

And since you're stuck, you're destined to hear a piece of my mind today, because I am really upset. In fact, I've had it-had it-with fathers who treat their children like inanimate objects. You have no idea what I've been through with Will today. He loves his dad, but his dad only seems to love him back if Will does what he wants. And then there's you. Who never cared enough to even find out if I existed.

Well, since I can't be with Will tonight-and I'm tired of living with all this unsettledness-I'm going over to Mom's to have it out with her. It's about time I heard her story about why she told me you were dead. I'd also like to know why and how she could have fallen in love with a man- namely you-who apparently didn't give a damn about her. I'm sorry to be so cross in this e-mail. It's really been a rotten day. Love, Kelly

She hit Send, and then abruptly realized that she'd written exactly what she wanted to do with the rest of her evening.

SHE FOUND her mom on the back porch, doing business…a cell phone in one hand, her laptop open on a white wrought-iron table, her bare feet cushioned on an ottoman…the toenail paint shiny red and still wet. her toes separated by white cotton balls.

Char looked up with a quick smile when she saw Kelly. Both of them had been miserable about their relationship lately, Kelly knew. Her mom's eyebrows raised when she saw the bottle of wine, but even though she continued the business call, she motioned for Kelly to come in. Kelly motioned back that she was headed for the kitchen first.

She knew where the wine opener and glasses were, filled the two goblets near to the rim-no tame drinking for this conversation-and then carried the tray through the living room and onto the back porch again.

Her mother was still on the phone, but she blinked at the size of the poured wine-shot a curious, concerned look at Kelly-and started to seriously hustle the caller along.

The white lilacs were just fading against the far fence, and the peonies tucked on the north side of the house were beginning to grow heavy with fat, pink blooms. The lawn was fresh clipped and looked luxuriously soft and green. A neighbor's mower buzzed three doors down. Somewhere kids were yelling and whooping it up on a trampoline.

Every sight and sound was familiar. Maybe there was nothing fancy or expensive about the suburb, but so many childhood memories were etched in her mind. It was the kind of neighborhood where people watched out for one another, the kind of neighborhood where she'd go to Jason's house after school as often as he came to hers, and everybody did big block parties and knew each other's business and yelled if a child did something unsafe, even if it