Trouble in Paradise

thought affectionately as she raced up the stairs after him. In another year, he would doubtless be all gangling legs and arms.

“This is it? My room? The one I get all to myself?”

Laughing, Susan stood behind him. “Oh, Tiger, I could hardly wait for you to get here. We thought about doing up this room first thing, and then decided we’d wait for you. This afternoon, we want you to go with us and pick out exactly what you’d like. I thought maybe you’d prefer bunk beds and blue carpeting-you told me one time you liked blue. I don’t mean we’re going to drag you shopping all afternoon, just that we want you to show us the kind of thing you like…”

Griff stepped into the room behind them. Tiger glanced back at his father uncertainly, and Susan again felt the strange tension emanating from her husband. Her smile never faltering, she leaned back against Griff and dragged his arm around her waist. “No bed, Tiger. But we’ve got a sleeping bag for this time, or you can sleep on the couch downstairs, and by the time you come for the next weekend-”

“When he comes next time, we’ll have our kind of weekend,” Griff interjected flatly.

“Pardon?” Whatever was he talking about?

Tiger looked at his dad again and shrugged nervously. “Mom kind of gave me this list, Susan.” He dug a wrinkled piece of paper from his jeans pocket. “Like I don’t know. Mom said this is what we were supposed to do.”

She unfolded the piece of paper: four pairs of pants, three dress shirts, four play shirts, tennis shoes, socks, a winter coat, dress shoes… It didn’t take Einstein to figure out why Sheila had deliberately decked out Tiger in too- short jeans and a holey T-shirt. So much for favorite old clothes. And since Griff paid out more in child support in a month than Susan earned in a year at her store, she now knew exactly why Griff was barely controlling his temper.

Disappointment flooded through her for the day planned with Tiger that was not to be. Susan only had to glance once at the child to know she would follow through with Sheila’s plan and not with their own. Griff was clearly furious, and just as clearly anticipating ignoring his ex-wife’s wishes…but Susan was the one on the tightrope. Not for a lapful of diamonds would she cause friction between Tiger and his mother, nor would she confuse her role with Sheila’s. “Perhaps if we can get through the list, we could still-”

“Bugs,” Griff snapped succinctly.

“Bugs?” Susan echoed vaguely. Not really her favorite topic of conversation. And certainly a non sequitur. Whatever did bugs have to do with anything?

“For school,” Tiger volunteered. “I’ve got ten already. But if I can get another fifteen by Monday, I can put them in this science exhibit at school. Only I won’t have time to find them, because Aunt Lisa’s birthday party is tomorrow, and Mom’s picking me up tonight, because she said she wouldn’t have time to come after me tomorrow.”

“I see.” She saw. Sheila was violently opposed to Tiger spending any time with Susan and Griff.

She had agreed oh-so-sweetly to the consecutive weekends, no doubt all the while laying her plans for sabotage. It had been one thing for Sheila to dump the kids on Griff-an unmarried Griff-at her convenience. But Griff-and-Susan, who just might strike a family court judge as more suitable guardians for the children than Sheila, was another matter.

“You can’t even spend the night then, Tiger?” She had planned to make pancakes piled three high for breakfast, then maybe a romp in the park and an early Sunday afternoon movie. For that matter, Griff had been sure that Tiger would enjoy puttering around with the two of them in the house…

“I’m not supposed to, Susan,” Tiger said simply. Anxiety clouded his eyes as he waited uncertainly for her reaction, evidently having already gotten his dad’s.

Sheila’s manipulations weren’t his fault. Susan reached out to rumple Tiger’s hair. “Well, we’d better get going, kiddo. We’ve got a lot to do this afternoon,” she reassured him. Like shopping. And bug collecting. What on earth were they going to collect bugs in? They were still setting up the house and living out of boxes.

“I don’t think so,” Griff said ominously. “His mother is well aware that he has plenty of clothes. Less than two months ago-”

She felt Tiger tense up beneath her hand on his shoulder.

“So he goes through a lot of clothes,” Susan said swiftly.

“Tiger, you’re not going to tell me you outgrew everything-”

The boy looked lost. “I’ve got lots of clothes,” he agreed. “And I told Mom I didn’t even want a new pair of tennis shoes. But she said I had to have new stuff. Something about you having the money for the new house and everything.”

Susan stepped in front of her husband in an instinctive desire to stave off a tornado. “I got pretty attached to a pair of tennis shoes myself as a kid,” she said lightly, “but you’ll have to help me with the rest of the clothes, Tiger. I don’t know much about boys’ sizes. If you’ll hustle downstairs, we’ll be there in two seconds.”

Or three. As Tiger was clattering down the stairs two at a time, Susan looked at Griff. He’d turned stranger, her volatile but always considerate lover. His mouth was a slash of white, his eyes were ice cold, and he gave off tension like an aura. “That bitch,” he hissed.

The blood turned cold in her veins, racing up to her head. Griff in a temper, even though she knew it wasn’t directed at her…

When Griff saw her color change, he immediately backed off, shocked at that tiny flicker of fear in Susan’s eyes, more shocked that he could conceivably have evoked it. “Come here,” he suggested quietly.

She did, and he folded her close to his still pounding heart. Dammit, he was mad on her behalf. Sure, he could force the issue of his son staying for the weekend. And he damn well knew his son didn’t need new clothes. But the real fury came at the thought of Sheila’s deliberately causing a problem for Susan. He knew exactly how much the very vulnerable, very feminine woman in his arms had been looking forward to planning Tiger’s room with the boy, that it was a chance for the two of them to get to know each other…and that Susan was miserable at the thought of making any waves. He could put his foot down, all right, but Susan would suffer for it.

“Darling…”

Susan pulled free, looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter,” she insisted.

“It does matter.”

She shook her head, making for the door. “Griff, the point is that we have time with him. What we do during that time isn’t all that important.” She hesitated and tried out a tentative smile. “Besides, I’ll buy a few things in the next size up, so this can’t happen again. And he can keep a few clothes here. Then he won’t have to pack when he comes for a weekend. It’ll be fine. Really.”

It wasn’t exactly fine. After fifteen minutes, Tiger had as much interest in shopping as in a dentist’s drill. Also, he liked only red shirts with alligators on them. The stores seemed to stock blue and brown shirts-and no alligators in Tiger’s size. His feet were hard to fit, and his conversation was blandly peppered with “Mom said…” Griff had come along to help, but Susan had banished him to the hardware section when she saw he was becoming impatient with Tiger, particularly on her account.

As soon as his father was out of sight, Tiger delivered a long dissertation about hamsters-when he wasn’t vaulting up and down escalators to the peril of fellow shoppers. Santa Claus couldn’t have talked him into accepting a new pair of tennis shoes; his old ones were like friends.

Griff caught up with them again. All discussions of small animals ceased. They sedately took the elevator, and Griff carried the scorned sneakers.

Tiger and Griff had worked themselves into a good humor by the time they got home; only Susan was distinctly wilted. She would have bargained with the devil for a cup of coffee at that point, but instead there were the bugs to worry about. Sheila was picking Tiger up at six. “Which leaves us two hours to find fifteen bugs. As in collect, catch, murder, pin and label?” She wanted to make sure she understood the assignment properly.

Griff gave her a look.

“Dispose of,” she amended, seeing that he seemed to find something strange in her use of the word murder. Hurriedly, she found a stack of empty margarine containers and started handing them out. “You men do the collecting, and I’ll arrange the bugs on the display board.”

“Susan, you don’t have to be involved in this,” Griff said firmly.