As different as they were, Banner's parents still shared one thing in common. They were both disappointed in the son they had produced together.
He supposed he would call his mother in a little while. A call from him would appease her somewhat-at least until the next time he didn't live up to her expectations, which would come along soon enough.
“You know, Rick, you could try to get along better with Dad,” Brenda said, the argument an old and tired one as far as Banner was concerned. “You are a member of this family. I don't know why you pretend you aren't.”
“I know exactly where I stand in the family. And I get along fine with the old man. He talks, I pretend to listen, and then we both go back to our own lives. I guess you could say it works for us.”
“But Tim and I hardly know you. You don't let us get to know you.”
It wasn't that Banner didn't care at all about his half siblings. He simply didn't have much in common with them. Couldn't imagine that they had very much to say to each other on a regular basis.
Brenda shouldn't take it personally. He didn't interact any more with his two other half sisters, as his mother frequently pointed out. Not that his mother wanted him to have any undue influence over her well-connected daughters, but she would have been royally perturbed if she thought he was closer to his father's offspring than to her own.
Banner's family-both of his families-were basically nice people. His parents were hardworking, successful, upstanding citizens, and all his siblings seemed to be following that same path. He didn't dislike any of them.
He simply didn't fit in. He never had. He couldn't imagine that he ever would. It had taken him a lot of time and a lot of anguish before he had finally accepted that fact.
Because he didn't want to deliberately hurt his sister's feelings, he made an effort to sound interested when he asked, “So, how are you and Tim? Everything going okay for the two of you?”
The resignation in her voice when she responded told him that she knew exactly why he had asked. “I'm fine. Very busy, of course, but that's just part of the career I've chosen. Tim-well, I guess he's fine, too.”
“Something wrong?”
“I don't know. He's seemed unusually distracted lately. A little subdued. Probably the natural stress of a first- year law student.”
“Probably. Well, tell him I said hello, will you? And, uh, merry Christmas.”
“Sure. I'll tell him. Goodbye, Rick.”
He hung up knowing that he had disappointed her. It was something he seemed to do to other people on a regular basis without even trying.
Which, he reminded himself, was why he had chosen to isolate himself from other people to a large extent, learning to be content with his own company and his own pursuits.
It still seemed like a good plan to him. One he would probably be foolish to change at this stage.
After a moment he went into the kitchen to rejoin Lucy. She was sitting at the table reading a woodworking magazine he'd left lying on the bar. She seemed oblivious to the chill in this room that did not benefit from the heat of the fire in the living room.
Hulk padded into the kitchen, moving without hesitation to his empty food bowl, where he stopped to look hopefully at Banner. Banner reached into the pantry to pull out a bag of dry dog food, which he poured into the big stainless steel bowl.
“Your sister called to wish you a merry Christmas?” Lucy asked, looking up from the magazine.
He nodded as he turned to replace the dog food bag in the pantry. “Yeah. She must have been the designated caller from Dad's family.”
“Did I hear you call her Brenda?”
“Right. My father's daughter. The medical student.”
“She probably missed seeing you today.”
“She said she did.”
“Don't you miss seeing her? And your other siblings?”
He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the stainless steel water bowl he was washing and filling with clean water. “I think I've told you before that I'm not really close to my half siblings. Not much in common with them.”
“But you love them, of course. After all, they're your family.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He reminded himself that Lucy couldn't understand what it had been like for him, belonging to two families but not really being a part of either of them.
Sometimes Lucy had a way of looking at him as if she could read his mind. As if she really could understand, after all. And that, too, was a dangerous way for him to think, tempting him to believe they were more alike than they really were. To harbor a faint, foolish hope that, with Lucy at least, he was more than just a misfit.
Turning away from that gaze that looked entirely too perceptive, he set the dog's water bowl next to the food dish. “I'd better call my mother,” he said gruffly. “She'll be annoyed if I don't call her today.”
There was nothing like a chat with his mother to bring him back to harsh reality, he assured himself.
Chapter Ten
The afternoon wasn't going exactly as Lucy might have hoped. Banner was more distant now than he had been before their latest kiss. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. This seemed to be a classic panicky-male retreat, the behavior of a man who had gotten closer to someone than he had intended.
If she looked at it that way, it was almost a compliment, she mused.
Of course, it was just as likely that Banner regretted what had developed between them and was now trying to think of an excuse to send her on her way as gently as possible.
Because that possibility depressed her, she decided she would stick with the first explanation. She wanted to believe he was starting to care for her, but he was afraid of his feelings. Knowing his family background, and considering his broken marriage, it was an entirely credible possibility, she assured herself.
Lucy still believed Banner belonged at the top of her prospect list. Now it was just a matter of convincing him.
She was sitting in front of the fire, rubbing the dog's ears, when Banner rejoined her after his conversation with his mother. She studied his face from beneath her eyelashes, trying to guess how the call had gone. She found no clue in his expression, which was absolutely emotionless.
He looked at her for a moment, then managed a faint, polite smile that didn't soften his face in the least. “Looks like you've made a friend for life.”
His dog was sprawled beside her, eyes closed in ecstasy as she rubbed the sensitive areas behind his ears. Had he been a cat, he would have been purring. As it was, he gave an occasional groan of pleasure. “He's a very sweet dog. I can see why you love him.”
Banner's smile faded. He shrugged, apparently trying for the appearance of nonchalance. “He's okay-for a dog.”
He wouldn't even admit that he loved his pet, Lucy thought with a ripple of sadness. Would he-or could he-ever admit that he loved anyone else?
Determined to get him talking again, Lucy plugged on. “You spoke to your mother?”
“Yes.”
“She and the rest of your family are well, I hope. Enjoying their holiday.”
“Apparently.”
“I'm sure she appreciated your call.”
“I guess.”
Lucy was getting frustrated-and a bit annoyed. Banner knew how to carry on a conversation. He was just being stubborn.
What, exactly, was he trying to prove?
When he did finally speak, his words weren't exactly encouraging. “You really should get on the road. The pavement could get slippery again when the temperatures drop after dark.”
Giving Hulk one last pat, Lucy rose. “You seem in a hurry to see me off.”
“It isn't that. But I know your family is anxious for you to join them. And you do want to see them, don't
