Bound to be Dirty (8 page)

He took the bag from Lily, surprised at its weight. “There's more than port in here.”

“Presents.”

“Huh?” Her parents had never done a gift exchange. Instead, they encouraged everyone to donate to a charitable organization, preferably health-related. He respected that, and it sure made things easier.

“For Sophia.” Humor lit Lily's eyes. “A baby doesn't understand about materialism, conspicuous consumption, and the shallowness of Christmas gift-giving.”

He grinned. “Yeah, your parents' beliefs may work for grown-ups, but not for kids. How old is Sophia now? Four or five months?” He'd been home once since Lily's niece was born, but hadn't seen her yet.

“Almost five. And utterly adorable.”

“You see much of her?” he asked as they headed toward the front door. Lily and her brother Anthony had an iffy relationship, more competitive than supportive.

“I do some babysitting.” She took her coat from the front closet, and handed him his jacket.

“You always did like kids.” Once, she'd said she and Dax should have at least two, but she'd clearly changed her mind over the years. She hadn't mentioned kids since . . . he couldn't even remember, and she was so diligent about birth control. He'd seen how her medical clinic had become the focus of her energy and emotion, the way she'd once thought kids would. Yeah, people changed. What had he been thinking, as a teen, that he might be dad material? Crazy. With his family background and the lifestyle he chose, he wasn't cut out for parenting.

She straightened from zipping her boots and shot him a rather strange look. “I love kids.” She tucked her pumps into a plastic bag, then into the tote.

“Yeah, kids are cool.” And they deserved excellent, committed parents, not dysfunctional ones like his or overbearing ones like hers.

On the way out the door, he collected the moth umbrella. They rode the elevator to the basement parking garage. Their silver Lexus had been purchased secondhand and chosen for its reliability. Lily only drove it once or twice a month. As always when they were together, Dax climbed into the driver's seat. It was an old joke, that he always had to be the pilot.

The radio was set to CBC. The announcer was giving the local news as Dax pulled out of the underground parking and headed toward Broadway, windshield wipers working hard. Lily's parents had a ritzy house in Dunbar-Southlands, the same upscale area where his mother's parents—who he hadn't seen since they booted him out in the spring of twelfth grade—lived. It was a ten to fifteen minute drive.

As he turned left on Arbutus, he remembered he owed Lily an in-person apology. “I'm sorry I didn't get home on Thursday.”

She glanced at him. “You said something came up at work?” There was an odd edge to her voice.

“I swapped schedules with someone.”

“What do you mean? Why?”

He clicked off the radio. “I was supposed to fly some of the crew out on Wednesday and Thursday, finishing up here myself after the last flight. Another pilot, Billy, was going to bring the rest out on Friday and Saturday. But his sister was in a serious accident, and he wanted to be with her.”

“Really? That's too bad. How's she doing?”

He shrugged. “Haven't heard. Hope she's okay.”

“Right.” Her voice still sounded strange.

“I'm sorry if you're pissed off. I figured you'd be working anyhow, so it wasn't a big deal.”

“It's not a big deal if you swap shifts with someone who has a family emergency. But it seems a little odd that you didn't find out how Billy's sister is doing. What's her name anyhow?”

“Uh, I don't know. Mary? Marion? Something like that.” He glanced over. “Why?”

She shook her head.

Was he supposed to read her mind? “What is it?”

“So you spent the last two days flying people from the mining camp home for the holidays?”

“Isn't that what I just said?”

“Is it?”

Exasperated, he said, “What's your problem?”

“There's no problem, if that's what you really were doing,” she snapped.

“What else would I be doing?”

“Hanging out somewhere else?” Then she slapped her hand over her mouth. “No, forget I said that. We'll talk later.”

Talk about what? “Wait a minute. What are you saying?”

“This isn't the time.”

“What do you mean about hanging out somewhere else? Where else would I be?”

“Okay, fine!” She stared at him, eyes huge, looking nervous but determined. “Is there another woman?”

His mouth fell open. “Of course not!” Anger and hurt flooded through him, clenching his gut. He yanked the car into a parking spot along the curb, shut off the engine, and glared at her. “Shit, Lily, you think I'd cheat on you?”

“I wondered.” Her lips trembled. “You really haven't?”

“Never. I wouldn't. If we're together, we're faithful.” Then, thinking of his suspicions about her, he said, “Right?”

She nodded.

That wasn't good enough. He needed words. “Tell me you've never cheated on me.”

“Dax! I wouldn't. Never.” The shock on her face attested to the truth of her words. Then her eyes narrowed. “Why did you need to ask?”

“You made me wear condoms. You said you had to go off the pill, but there's other kinds of birth control. People wear condoms for protection.” And then it hit him. “You were protecting yourself because you thought I was screwing someone else.”

She nodded. “I never went off the pill.”

“You lied to me.” He dragged a hand across his bearded jaw as it sank in. “Jeez, Lily, I never thought you'd lie to me.”

“I'm sorry. I just . . . I don't know. I didn't have the guts to ask. If you were, I wasn't ready to know about it.”

“Fuck.” He thumped the side of his hand against the steering wheel.

“You never asked me either.”

He shook his head. “Same reason, I guess. Didn't know how I'd deal with it. Crap, we're messed up.”

Huge, sad eyes studied him. “Is there any trust left between us, Dax?”

He swallowed. “I don't know. Guess we'll have to figure that out.”

“I didn't mean to have this talk now.”

“We have to talk about this shit, Lily. It's killing our marriage, keeping secrets.”

“I know that,” she snapped. “I meant to do it later. After Christmas dinner. I didn't want all”—she waved her hand in jerky circles—“
this
hanging in the air. And speaking of dinner, we need to get going.”

He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel.

“Dax?”

“Whatever.” He started the car again. He ought to be used to finishing a distant second. His parents had been wrapped up in themselves, each other, and their druggy little world. With Lily, her work came first. Her parents came first. Where the hell did he fit? Did he even want to fit anymore?

They drove in silence for a few minutes. Then she touched his thigh, running her hand over the black wool of his pants. “Dax? We've started to talk. To be honest. That's a good thing. When we get back home this afternoon, we'll talk some more. We'll . . . figure things out.”

Her touch, her words sent a glimmer of light to pierce his black mood. This morning when he woke, he'd thought there was hope for them. Now he knew she'd been faithful. And yes, they were talking. These were positive steps. “Okay.” He dropped his hand to cover hers, and squeezed. “Okay, Lily. But we have to be honest. No more lies.”

“Agreed.”

Her small hand felt so good, sandwiched between his palm and his thigh. But he had to let go. The tall hedge and giant, leafless maple trees marked her parents' property. He turned through the open gate, wishing he and Lily were anywhere other than here.

The house loomed ahead: black Tudor-style half-timbering against cream walls, heavy chimneys, and leaded-glass windows. Attractive enough, but he preferred houses that blended into the environment. A holly wreath hung on the door. Inside, he knew there'd be a beautiful tree in the sitting room, decorated by Aldonza.

He got out and unfurled the umbrella for Lily, then retrieved the tote bag. She tucked her hand through the crook of his elbow as they walked to the door. She knocked twice then opened it.

Aldonza, in a plain gray dress and a white apron, came bustling to greet them.

“Merry Christmas, Aldonza,” he said, kissing her cheek as she took their coats and umbrella. He liked the housekeeper; she was by far the nicest person who lived in this house.

Lily echoed the greeting, giving the other woman a hug. She took the bottle bag from the tote and handed it over, then bent to remove her boots and put her pumps on.

“Thank you so much. And Merry Christmas to you, too, Miss Lily and Mr. Dax.” She gestured down the hall. “Everyone is in the sitting room.” She hurried away with their coats and Lily's boots.

Aldonza always prepared the mid-day Christmas dinner for the Nyland family, then dealt with the dishes before getting together with friends for her own Christmas meal. Her cooking was the only good part of these painful get-togethers. “Let the fun begin,” he muttered, reaching for Lily's hand.

Seven

A
n hour later, Lily cut a slice of Aldonza's perfectly cooked turkey and listened as Anthony talked about a rare form of brain cancer he'd been treating in a nine-year-old. How tragic, but how lucky the boy and his family were to have Anthony as their doctor. He might be an annoyingly perfect younger brother, but he was an excellent doctor.

Anthony, in a charcoal suit and gray-and-white striped tie, his hair the same wheat blond as Lily's, sat across from her. His wife, Regina, an intellectual property lawyer, was beside him, her strawberry blond hair lying in sleek waves against the shoulders of a lovely green dress. Dax sat beside Lily. Her silver-haired father, in his suit and tie, was at one end of the table. Her mother presided at the other end, wearing a tailored taupe dress and jacket, her neatly styled blond hair's color attributable to dye these days. Aldonza was in the kitchen and so was baby Sophia, in her bassinet.

So far, most of the conversation had consisted of her parents and brother discussing challenging cases. Lily listened, interested, but didn't mention her own patients. As a family practice doctor, she ordered tests and diagnosed, then referred the most complicated cases to specialists.

Beside her, Dax ate in silence.

Her attention drifted from the medical conversation to the talk—the almost fight—they'd had in the car. He hadn't cheated on her. That was the good news, and it was huge. But also huge was the lack of trust between them. Could they rebuild it? And what about love? Had they lost that too? She was too confused to know her own heart. And then there was last night's wild sex. Just thinking of it heated her body. She squirmed against the sudden throb of arousal between her legs.

Dax leaned toward her and murmured, “Eat, or your mother will ask if you're sick.”

The brush of his shoulder against hers felt good, and so did the fact that he was looking out for her.

She smiled her thanks and picked up her fork again. Whether or not she loved Dax the way she used to, he still turned her on, and she still cared for him. He cared too; she was sure of it. But was that enough to build a future—and a family—on? Later this afternoon, they'd talk. Anxiety sent a shiver across her shoulders and stilled the pulse between her legs. She took a sip of French chardonnay.

Her parents, who tended to grill their children rather than converse, were now asking Anthony about the clinical trial he was leading, testing the effect of a new treatment for prostate cancer. Lily had referred a Well Family Clinic patient to the trial, so was particularly interested in how it was going.

Aldonza entered the room quietly and passed around the serving dishes, offering seconds to everyone. She topped off the wineglasses then slipped away.

The discussion of the clinical trial wound up with Anthony winning a nod of approval from their father.

“Yes, it's valuable work, Anthony,” their mother said. She turned to Lily. “Speaking of work, how are things at your clinic?”

Of course her turn had to come. “Good. I think we've reached the optimum size, though it's inevitable there will always be some growth through referrals and so on.” Now if only she could figure out the workload issues. Niggling pain at her temples warned that a stress headache was starting up.

“Then you should now have time for something more challenging and worthwhile,” her mother said.

“Indeed,” her father chimed in. “A research project, or a clinical trial like Anthony's.”

They had finally accepted, grudgingly, that they weren't going to convince her to switch from general practice to a specialty, and now they were pushing her toward other areas they considered more worthwhile, not to mention prestigious, than her clinic.

Dax spoke for the first time in ages. “Lily busts her butt at the Well Family Clinic.” His voice held an edge, and she wasn't sure if it was directed at her parents or at her. More than once he'd told her she let the clinic take over her life.

Her mom frowned. “Lily, if you've reached optimum size, surely it shouldn't take that much work to maintain things.”

Maybe it shouldn't. Her parents always made her feel like a failure. She wished Dax hadn't said anything.

“And she does do other work,” Dax said, his voice cool. “She volunteers Saturdays at the Downtown Eastside clinic.”

Lily winced. She hadn't told her parents about her volunteer work. Perhaps Dax meant to be supportive, but she wished he'd kept quiet.

Her mom frowned. “You're working in the Downtown Eastside?”

Her dad said, “Treating drug addicts, prostitutes, and street people? You consider that a good use of your talent?”

On the bright side, he'd implied she had talent. “Yes, I do. The poor and disadvantaged are just as deserving of health care.”

“They squander it,” her mother snapped. “You can't tell me you don't see the same people, over and over again.”

“And Anthony treats people with lung cancer who've smoked all their lives despite the warnings. We don't make judgment calls on our patients.” She reached for her wineglass, only to find it was almost empty again. The headache was rapping on her skull with small, dull hammers.

“True,” her brother said. “But still, Lily, if you worked on a research project or clinical trial, you might help find solutions rather than put Band-Aids on problems.”

Lily frowned at him. Yes, he was entitled to his opinion, but did he always have to side with their parents? She and Anthony had always been competitive, but she'd thought that, since Sophia's birth, things between them were improving.

“Exactly,” her dad said.

“But that's—” Dax started.

Lily interrupted, clamping her hand on his thigh. “I'll certainly consider that.” And she would, for a nanosecond. Her parents and brother had a valid point—but her calling was to treat people who were hurting, not to do research.

Dax made a sound low in his throat that hopefully only she could hear. She squeezed his thigh more gently, in silent apology, then lifted her hand and picked up her fork again, though the conversation and her headache had destroyed her appetite.

“And you're still doing the same thing, Dax?” her father asked, a hint of censure in his voice.

“Yup.”

Lily frowned at his abbreviated response. Her parents might never truly approve of him, but couldn't he make more of an effort? “He's working for a mining camp in northern B.C.,” she explained.

“Way out in the bush?” her mom said.

“Way out,” Dax said. “Temperatures below zero. Living in modular housing. At least the bears are hibernating now.”

Was he
trying
to annoy her parents?

“I can't understand why a man would want to live that way,” her mother said.

“I'm sure you can't,” Dax replied.

“At some point a man needs to grow up and settle down,” her father said stiffly. “Most men do it in their twenties.”

Lily shot Dax a warning glance, hoping he wouldn't rise to the bait.

He gave a slight shrug, then said, “Great dinner, as always.”

“Thank you,” her mother said.

“Aldonza sure is a good cook,” Dax added.

Lily closed her eyes briefly. Yes, he was right that credit went to Aldonza, but couldn't he just thank her privately? Lily had learned long, long ago that, with her parents, making nice worked far better than making waves.

“On the subject of settling down,” her mother said, “Lily, you should learn from Anthony's example. He's two years younger yet he's establishing a brilliant career, he's married to a bright young woman who's on the partnership track, and they've produced a lovely little girl. You're thirty-two, Lily.”

Implying that it was a ripe old age and she'd yet to achieve anything of significance. And hitting her in her vulnerable spot, her desire to have children. Doubly wounded, she fought to keep her voice even as she said, “Not everyone wants the same thing, Mom.”

“On the subject of that lovely little girl . . .” It was Regina, speaking for the first time in a while. “I should check on her.”

“Nonsense,” Lily's mom said. “She'll be fine with Aldonza.”

“If I'm not mistaken,” Regina said, “Aldonza will need to clear the table and bring in dessert.”

“Ah yes, I suppose it is that time.” Her mother clapped her hands together and called, “Aldonza?”

Regina rose. “I'll tell her.” She headed for the kitchen.

A moment later, Aldonza bustled in and started gathering plates.

Dax pushed back from the table and rose. “Delicious dinner, Aldonza. Thanks.” He lifted the platter with the remains of a large turkey. “This is heavy. I'll carry it out.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dax.”

As the woman cleared the table, Lily sought a neutral topic of conversation. She asked her brother, “Is Sophia still waking you and Regina up every night?”

He gave a fond grin. “She'll go five hours now, on a good night. It sure makes a difference.”

“I still say you should hire a live-in nanny,” their mom said

“We're keeping that option open,” Anthony said.

Lily's lips twitched. She knew, from times she'd babysat, that neither he nor Regina had any intention of having a nanny. Day care worked for them, and when they were home they wanted to care for their baby themselves. When Lily and Anthony were children, they'd spent far more time with nannies, housekeepers, and tutors than with their parents. Neither of them, nor Regina, thought that was a good model for child-rearing.

Aldonza had made several trips back and forth to the kitchen, yet Dax hadn't returned. He wouldn't skip out, would he? The way things were between them, she wasn't absolutely sure.

“I'm going to see if Regina needs help with Sophia,” she murmured, and headed for the kitchen.

She stepped through the door then held it for Aldonza, who was heading out with a pie server in each hand, one displaying a latticed mince pie that smelled spicy and rich, the other with Lily's dad's favorite, pumpkin pie. Inside the kitchen, the sight that greeted Lily held her immobile.

Regina stood at the sink, holding a baby bottle under running water. “I can't believe I forgot the electric bottle warmer,” she said over her shoulder. “Before Sophia, I never forgot anything.”

Dax sat at the kitchen table with the baby, wrapped in a pink-rosebud-figured blanket, cradled securely in his arms. He smiled down at her as he said to Regina, “Cut yourself a break, woman.” With his carved features and dramatic black hair and beard, Dax was a striking man and his face could look almost harsh. Now, though, the smile softened it, as did the long black lashes on his downcast eyes.

“In this house?” Regina gave a wry chuckle and shook the bottle gently, then tested the liquid against the inside of her wrist. Turning away from the sink, she spotted Lily. “Oh, hi, Lily. Are they waiting for us?”

Dax glanced up too.

“I'm sure Dad's eager to have his pumpkin pie,” Lily said absentmindedly. Never had she seen Dax with a baby, and he and tiny Sophia looked surprisingly comfortable as he held her against his big chest. Was there any hope that one day he would cradle their own child? She swallowed and regained her train of thought. “But Sophia's lunch should come first.”

“She does cry when she gets hungry.” Regina scooped the baby out of Dax's arms. “Thanks, Uncle Dax. I can take it from here.”

Uncle Dax? Well, of course he was. She was Aunt Lily.

If the two of them somehow worked things out, they might be Mom and Dad one day.
Please.
The wish was so vivid in her mind, for a moment she was afraid she'd spoken it aloud.

Normally, she'd have given Sophia a kiss, but her legs had gone weak and she instead sank into the closest chair.

“You okay?” Dax asked.

“Just needed a breather.”

“I know the feeling,” Regina said. She kissed her daughter's head as the baby sucked up milk. “And you give me excuses, don't you, my darling?”

The kitchen door swung open again and Aldonza came in. “They are asking for you.” A sympathetic smile lit her plump brown face. “Better to go.”

Another person who'd learned that survival depended on not making waves. As the housekeeper started setting up the coffee tray, Lily stood, kissed the nursing baby, then headed toward the door. The pounding in her head had eased a little. “Come on, Dax. Regina, I'll tell them you'll be there in a minute.”

The other woman nodded. “It's my turn to be grilled. I know there's no escape.”

“You always come through beautifully,” Lily reassured her with a twinge of envy. When Lily had first met Regina, when she was Anthony's girlfriend, she liked her and respected her, but found her too perfect to really warm to. Sophia had softened Regina and Lily felt closer to her sister-in-law—and sometimes even to her own brother.

Dax rose with lazy grace. “Why not bring the kid? She'd provide a distraction.”

“No children at the dinner table,” Regina said. “That's been made quite clear.”

“Quite clear,” Aldonza echoed.

“You agree with that?” he asked Regina.

She shrugged. “Their house; their rules.”

He glanced around, from her to Aldonza to Lily. “You all just knuckle under to them.”

Aldonza, a gentle but proud woman who adored Dax, stared him straight in the eye. “They pay me well, Mr. Dax. I live in this beautiful house, have much free time, and rarely see them.”

He went to her and kissed her cheek. “I'm sorry.”

Regina lifted her chin. “And I don't want to cause trouble for Anthony with his parents.”

Lily was tempted to suggest that her husband be as considerate, but kept her mouth shut.

Regina put a burp cloth over the shoulder of her green dress, hiked the baby up, and gently patted her back. “At our house, Anthony and I do things our way. We're raising Sophia according to our ideas of good parenting. You've seen that, Lily.” She glanced over to Lily, standing near the kitchen door.