Love in Bloom (30 page)

"I don't know if I'm serious.  I need time to find out."

Her mother moved closer to the bed.  "Honey, you were under a strain.  You were vulnerable when you came here.  Clay took advantage of that--"

"He took advantage of nothing.  Mom, did you ever think that maybe I'm not cut out for the same life as you?"

"That's ridiculous!  You fit right in, you travel well..."

"I've never known anything else."

Monica waved her hand in exasperation.  "Paige, I have to make up schedules, assignments, itineraries.  Go back with me.  See if Clay Reynolds is so important to you once you're away from him."

That was an option.  But did she want to consider it?

****

Clay took a stuffed mushroom from the buffet table in the dining room and popped it into his mouth.  Paige was on the other side of the room talking with Trish.  The two women had connected right away.  They were discussing something intently now and he wondered what it was.

Paige had been quieter than usual on their drive here.  Because of his conversation with Doc, Clay was hesitant to poke or push.  But it was evident she was troubled and so was he.  The few times he'd spent with Monica Conrad, he'd realized what a strong woman she was and how much she influenced her daughter.  In a way, Paige looked to her mother for her own identity.

When he made love with Paige now, some of the joy was missing.  The passion was as strong as ever, but desperation had taken joy's place.

He crossed to Paige and casually curled his arm around her waist.  "Are you two hatching a plot?"

Trish laughed, smoothing her hand over the hips of her yellow linen dress.  "Hardly.  I was telling Paige about our honeymoon plans to Hawaii.  But now I have to mingle or Mom will have my head for not spending enough time with the relatives.  I'll talk to you later."  Trish went to the French doors and let herself outside onto the patio where more guests were gathered.

"I can see why you love her so much," Paige said.

"In a sense, she helped me recreate my world.  I wish I could remember growing up with her."  Paige's hand on his arm was the balm he needed.  How would he feel when she wasn't around to touch him?

"I haven't had much opportunity to speak with your mom."

Clay chuckled.  "When she throws a shindig like this, she tries to be three places at one time.  And usually manages it.  Let me show you the rest of the house.  Maybe we can find her and slow her down for a few minutes."

The house was grander than any Paige had ever seen.  Hardwood floors gleamed.  The rooms were spacious and elegantly furnished with mostly traditional cherry pieces.  Clay led her into a small parlor decorated with a Victorian flavor--ecru lace curtains and high-back cut-velvet chairs.

"This is lovely, Clay."

He turned her to face him.  "Not as lovely as you are.  It's nice to get you alone."

She smiled.  "You didn't really want to show me the house?"

He lifted her chin with his knuckle.  "Sidetracking the tour seemed like a good idea."  When he touched his lips to hers, the passion that always burst when they kissed had his heart racing, his tie tightening.  He lifted his head and took a deep breath.  "We should have gone upstairs."

"With a party going on?" she asked breathlessly.

He caressed her cheek.  "We'd have our own party."

As a surge of voices swept down the hall, Clay cocked his head.  "I think I hear Mom.  Wait here.  I'll go steal her away from the crowd."

Paige was staring out the window at the manicured lawn, the perfectly trimmed hedge, the impeccable gardens, when she heard footsteps.

She turned and came face-to-face with Vincent Reynolds.  She'd met him briefly when she first arrived, but then in the crowd of thirty or more, she hadn't seen him again.  She wondered about this man who had caused Clay so much pain.  He'd found himself in an extraordinary situation, too, but that didn't excuse his attitude all these years later.

She wasn't sure what to say to him.  "You have a beautiful home."

He nodded.  "Thank you.  Unfortunately, I'm not here as much as I'd like to be to enjoy it."

An awkward silence fell between them.  Vincent cleared his throat.  "My wife tells me you're a doctor."

"Yes, I am."

"Was Clay one of your patients?"

"No, we met through a mutual friend."

Vincent shrugged.  "I was just surprised Clay was dating a doctor.  Your occupation doesn't seem compatible with his."

Vincent Reynolds and her mother belonged on the same boat.  The anger she'd found herself capable of since coming to Langley raised its head.  "We're people, Mr. Reynolds.  What we choose to do for a living is not the sum total of who we are."

He looked taken aback.  "But a profession carries with it certain prerequisites--educational background for one, social strata for another."

She tried to keep her temper.  "That's not always true.  And even if it were, those things don't determine what a person is inside."

He studied her for a moment.  "You sound very much like Clay."

His statement implied criticism.  "Is there something wrong with that?"

He sighed.  "I suppose not."

She knew she was overstepping her bounds but didn't care.  She might be gone in a week.  Maybe she could do something for Clay.  "Mr. Reynolds, do you know your son?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you really know Clay as he is today?  Do you know that he's a good, compassionate, caring man?  Do you know that he's a business success?  Do you know how much he needs your acceptance?"

"He doesn't need anything from me," Vincent said bitterly, stuffing his hand in his pocket.  "He's made that clear.  He makes sure he keeps his distance."

Nothing Vincent Reynolds could have said could have made her more angry.  She knew Clay longed for a relationship with his father.  Vincent must be blind not to realize it.  "And just why do you think he keeps his distance?  Why would he want to be around you when you can't accept him for who he is but only for what you expected him to be?"  She couldn't believe she'd said that.  But it was the truth as Clay saw it.

"She's right, Dad."  Trish came into the room, her high heels clicking on the parquet floor.  "None of us have ever had the guts to say it to you.  God knows, Clay's tried.  Don't you think it's time to put the past where it belongs?  Forget about the family albums and get to know the son you have now?"

Vincent glanced from one woman to the other and looked defeated.  "Clay and I can't talk."

"Maybe that's because you don't know how to listen," Trish offered bluntly.

Vincent was quiet for a few moments.  "All these years I've been hanging on to the hope Clay would come back to the business."

Paige took a few steps closer to the man who Clay felt had rejected him at every turn.  "Instead of being part of your business, wouldn't it be better if he was part of your life?"

Vincent looked at his daughter.  "I do have you in the business."

"Yes, you do."

"I suppose I could think about making you a partner."

Trish gave a frustrated sound of disapproval.  "I don't care about being your partner.  I do care about being your daughter.  Can't you see the difference, Dad?"

He grimaced.  "I'm trying."  He focused his attention on Paige.  "Do you always fight for people you care about?"

"I wasn't aware I was fighting."

Vincent smiled.  "I think Clay's a lucky man."  He left the room as quietly as he'd come in.

Paige shook her head.  "I don't believe I did that."

Trish grinned.  "Love makes us do crazy things.  And if I didn't know it when you arrived, I know it now.  You love my brother."

Paige felt heat rise to her cheeks.  "Yes, I do.  But I haven't told him.  I don't know if I'll be staying here."

"Clay told me.  You have a tough decision to make."

"Did you ever want the best of both worlds?"

"All the time.  But more than anything, I've learned if I don't follow my heart, I can't be happy."

****

The early-evening sun was still bright as Paige tossed her water balloon to Clay and glanced around to see who was watching the competition.  It seemed most of the town had gathered for the Fourth of July.  Everyone wore smiles and T-shirts and a collection of baseball caps.  The softball game had taken most of the afternoon.  She and Clay had gotten something to eat and decided to enter the balloon toss.

Clay stepped a few more feet away from Paige, grinned, and carefully tossed the balloon.  She held her breath as she caught it.  It didn't break.

She hadn't seen that grin of his since before her mother arrived.  Even when they made love there was tension between them.  She knew she was the cause.

Trish had advised her to follow her heart.  Did that mean following Clay?  Standing beside him?  He hadn't even said he loved her.  "More than physical" didn't necessarily mean permanent.  Was she ready to risk life as she knew it for a life she knew nothing about?  Was she waiting for some sign, for Clay to tell her he loved her?  Then what?

Underhanded, she carefully threw the balloon back to him, the new children's immunization program planned for Zaire clicking through her head.  It would save so many lives.  Didn't she want to be part of it?

Clay caught the balloon, moved back, and tossed it again.  This time, when she reached for it, her fingernail stabbed it and water splashed through her hands.  Luckily, most of it went on her sneakers, rather than her shorts.

Clay came to her, smiling at the water dripping down her bare thigh.  "Need a towel?"

"It will dry.  What do you want to do next?"

"The pie-eating contest starts soon.  We could head over that way."

Paige was surprised at the amount of people who waved at them and shouted hello as they made their way across the expansive field where most of the day's events were taking place.  She felt as if she belonged here, as if she'd made friends.

As they approached the canopy shielding long tables from the sun, she saw Ben slap another teenage boy on the back as he settled himself at the table, ready to compete.  A pretty girl with curly brown hair looked on.

Ben saw them, took the girl by the hand, and met Clay and Paige at the edge of the tent.  His smile was broad, his face excited.  "I want you to meet someone.  This is Christy Jacobs.  Christy, this is Mr. Reynolds and Dr. Conrad."

The girl smiled shyly.  "It's nice to meet you."

"Christy lives in Westminster," Ben explained.  "We met at an orientation meeting up at Penn State.  She's going to be going there, too."

Clay capped Ben's shoulder.  "That's great news.  What are you going to study?"