Sam rubbed one hand over his face. “Come on Emily, we don’t have time for this.” He started to leave the room, but when he caught sight of Jared's blue eyes, so like his mother's, glaring at him, it set him off again. He’d get respect from his own child if from no one else.
"Do you know how humiliating it was for me to be called down to the police station? To be told my son had been throwing snowballs at cars? To find out you'd broken a car window like some common vandal? If that's what you do for fun over your Christmas vacation then you deserve to be watched twenty-four hours a day." Sam realized he was pointing his finger to emphasize each word and, inhaling, he lowered his hand.
"Like you were a saint when you were a kid, Dad." Jared turned his back to sit at his desk, blond head bent, shoulders hunched.
Sam’s fists clenched. Why was he the one at fault? He hadn’t gotten into trouble with the law. Sam stepped closer to glare down at Jared. "Well, if I wasn’t, at least I was smart enough not to get caught."
Emily stepped between them. "Sam--"
He spoke over her shoulder. "And I still want to know who you were with. Why you think you have to protect someone who gladly let you take the rap for the broken window is beyond me."
"Sam, just drop it." Emily glared at him, her arms crossed and her face tight.
Like mother, like son. Sam was the bad guy as usual. “I’m just trying to discipline our son. You’re too easy on him. He needs to learn there are consequences to bad behavior, and you need to stop interfering.”
“Sam. I said
drop it.”
Frowning, he glanced from Emily’s set face to Jared’s bent head, then ran a hand through his hair. “What do you two want from me?”
Jared turned in his chair, his eyes condemning. When had Jared started looking at him like that? What had happened to the little boy who used to worship him? Perhaps Jared was just turning into a teenager a bit early. Emily really needed to spend more time with him. Keep him out of trouble. Sam rubbed his throbbing temples. As soon as he got tenure, maybe he’d have to do it himself.
The doorbell rang and Sam let out an exasperated sigh.
"That must be your mother." He glanced at his watch. Twelve minutes until eight. “And she’s late. Come on, we need to go.” He grabbed Emily's elbow and gave a tug. When she resisted, he scowled at her, then turned and left the bedroom.
He hurried down the stairs to open the front door, wincing as frigid air blew into the entryway. Alice, his elegantly clad mother-in-law, stood there. She didn’t resemble anyone’s idea of a baby-sitter. Or a grandmother either, for that matter. His lip curled. After two divorces and one husband buried, she wasn’t hurting financially. She could afford to look like she’d just stepped out of a salon.
Her make-up was perfectly applied, as usual. Short red hair, slightly curled, swept away from her face, emphasizing the chilling stare she fixed on him. As always, she surveyed him like he was a bug needing to be squashed.
Sam crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "Hi, Mom." Her eyes flickered, and he smirked. She hated him calling her that. He stepped aside and gestured with a hand. "Please, come in.”
"Thank you.” Raising her chin, she eyed him coldly. “Your tuxedo is too tight."
Witch. As she swept past, her perfume floated up to him. "Mm. Nice perfume, have you got a hot date later?" He hit his forehead with his palm. "Oh, no, I remember now. You were free to baby-sit because you had nothing to do on New Year’s Eve." He bared his teeth at her in a mock smile. "If you'd like, I could set you up with one of the professors at the University." He winked. "We have a couple of old timers without spouses."
Her eyes narrowed. "I hope they don't have anything good to eat at the party, Sam." She slowly smiled. "It looks as if your outfit might explode if you take even one bite of food."
Emily came down and shot him a glare before hugging Alice. His jaw tightened. What did he do? "Can we leave now?" Emily and her mother both ignored him as they moved up the stairs.
Sam waited about thirty seconds. "Emily! Time to go! Come on. What are you doing? It's not like Jared and his grandma have never met. Let’s go!"
Muttering under his breath, Sam stomped back up the stairs and into Jared's room. Predictably Jared's grandmother was fussing over him, one hand on his slim shoulder, as she praised a drawing she held in the other. His mouth tightened. Jared hadn’t shown
him
the picture.
"Emily,
now
would be nice." Stalking forward, he gave her elbow a sharp jerk.
She winced. "Sam, that hurt!"
His breath stilled in his chest as sudden nausea clogged his throat. He swallowed. Hard. Then sucked in air. He'd never hurt her before. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the three glares burning into his face stopped him. He closed his mouth tightly.
Why should he apologize? If she hadn't disappeared up the stairs, he wouldn't have come after her and it wouldn’t have happened. As she frowned at him and rubbed her elbow, he glowered right back, willing his queasy stomach to settle. Not his fault. He would not apologize.
Tapping his watch with one finger, he scowled at Emily. "It’s now five minutes until eight. In this weather it’ll take twenty minutes to get to my boss's house. The party starts at eight which means we’re late."
Alice sniffed and he shot the interfering hag a glare, which she returned. He jerked back to Emily. "For reasons I have already explained to you, I want the chance to talk to my boss alone." He jerked his thumb toward the door. "If you could
please
move your butt
out
to the car, maybe we could get there before the party ends."
He heard his mother-in-law gasp, but before she could say anything, Jared lunged forward, fists clenched.
"Leave her alone!"
An unwanted flash of memory assaulted Sam and he recalled the protective defense he’d felt toward his own mother when
he
was a boy. He gulped, swallowed in oxygen, and shoved the memory away. He didn’t have time for this.
Emily held up both hands to stop anyone from saying anything else. "We’re leaving now, Mom." She leaned forward and kissed Jared’s cheek. "Love you, Baby. Be good."
Straightening, she walked past Sam, not even glancing in his direction. As he moved into the hall he tried to take her elbow, but she jerked it away, hurried down the stairs, grabbed her coat and slammed the front door.
With a sigh, Sam followed, moving more slowly. Jerking her arm had been a mistake. But why couldn't he ever get any cooperation around here? Why was everything always his fault?
Buttoning his long overcoat he opened the door and caught up with Emily, stopping beside her on the sidewalk. She pulled up the hood on her coat to block the lightly falling snow, but otherwise, didn’t move.
"What are you waiting for?" He followed her gaze to where an unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway. Parked directly behind his car in the garage, blocking them in. He inhaled cold air and gestured toward the car. “What is this?"
When she didn’t answer, he stepped forward and threw both hands in the air.
“What is this?”
Jerking his head to the side, he spotted Alice’s BMW across the street, sitting under a blazing street light, snow already dusting its frame. He scanned the road and his mouth fell open. There were cars lining both sides of the street. He turned back to Emily.
“Who’s car is this?”
Emily crossed her arms and said nothing.
He heard voices and strode forward, in front of the car and past the garage until he could see the neighbor’s front porch. The neighbor’s dog barked wildly through the six-foot wood fence, and startled, Sam jumped, then smacked the wood. “Stupid dog.” Someone needed to put it out of its misery. He watched as their neighbor, Kendra Wakely, greeted a young couple on their well-lit porch.
Emily came up beside him. "I told Matt and Kendra their guests could park here." She glanced at him and shrugged. "I thought we'd be gone before they arrived. Let’s just take my car."
He looked at her car, covered in snow, parked off to the side of the driveway, and snorted. “I don't want to show up at my boss’s fancy house in your piece-of-crap Plymouth."
"Fine," she said, her voice tight. "Let's just stay home then, okay? That would be fine with me, because with the way you're acting tonight, I don't really feel like going to a party anyway."
“The way
I’m
acting?” The dog barked again, and Sam glowered at the fence, then pulled Emily back toward the house. “
You’re
the one slowing us down, making us late.”
She jerked her arm away from him. Again. His head pounded viciously. He pointed to the car in the driveway. “
You’re
the one letting people park in our driveway, and
I
get the blame for acting badly?” Sam blew out a harsh breath and tried to calm down. "Anyway, it’s not like we can miss this."
She brushed snow off her coat sleeves. “Perhaps you should go without me.”
His lips tightened as he glared at the insidious car parked in his driveway. He would love to leave her home. But Jeff really liked Emily, and Sam needed her in his corner tonight. Besides, Jeff would want to know why he’d come alone, and the last thing Sam wanted was give the impression things were bad at home. Not with tenure on the line.
He turned back to her. She was giving him the blank stare again and his lip twisted. Maybe they should stay home. Going might be a sure way to prove to his boss that things
were
bad at home. But then he’d lose his big chance to talk to Jeff with a drink in his hand.
"So, shall I stay home?"
"No, I need you to come with me.”
“Fine.” She blew out a breath and the cold air changed to mist between them. “Do we need to ask someone to move their car?” She gestured toward the Wakely’s house. “If so, I want to make one thing clear. Just leave Matt alone, okay?”
His mouth dropped open. “Leave
Matt
alone? Why don’t you ever worry about Matt leaving
me
alone? How about a little wifely support?”
She crossed her arms, pursed her lips and stared fixedly out the window.
He gritted his teeth. They’d never get out of here at this rate. Shoving his hands into his overcoat, he glared toward the neighbor’s house. If he asked Matt to have the car moved, their big-mouth neighbor would no doubt start an argument, and that would take too much time. Besides, Sam would get the blame for it. He grimaced. Some day he needed to kick Matt’s skinny butt, once and for all.
But not at this moment. He didn't have time for any of this. He considered his mother-in-law’s BMW across the street. He could have Emily ask her mom if they could take her car. It was even nicer than his. But he didn't want to go back inside.
He sighed. "Have you got your keys?" At her nod, he grimaced. "All right, let's just go." He'd deal with Matt Wakely later.
Sam yanked the frozen passenger door open and Emily climbed inside the car. He scraped the snow off the windows. What a piece of junk.
After he’d cleared the car, he eased his tightly clothed body behind the steering wheel and glanced at Emily. She sat stiffly, eyes forward, arms crossed, obviously ticked. He needed to talk her into a better mood.
He cranked the ignition and the engine turned over a few times before the car finally started. He flipped on the defrost, then the windshield wipers, before angling himself toward Emily. He'd better sweeten her up before they arrived. What did she want to hear?
"Look, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings or anything, okay?" He watched her closely. No reaction. Forcing a smile, he leaned over as much as his clothing allowed and tried to hug her stiff body. "I'm
sorry
."
She drew away. "Look, fine, whatever. If we’re going, let’s just go.”
Pulling back, he studied her in the dark interior. Fine. As long as she acted like a loving wife once they got there, she could act however she wanted now. After turning on the headlights, he backed the car out of the driveway and onto the freshly plowed road. Tonight needed to be perfect for him, and she’d better not screw it up. He let out a pent up breath. What he wouldn’t do for a cigarette.
***
Arms crossed, Sam watched from his position against the wall as Carl Thurman veered to grab a glass of champagne before pushing through the crowd and making his way over. At thirty-eight they were the same age, and at six feet the same height, but the similarities ended there. Sam noticed Carl’s scalp through his thin blond fuzz and ran a hand through his own dark hair, thanking good genes for its thickness. No baldness in
his
family. On the other hand, Carl had a reed-thin body that owed nothing to counting calories or exercise.
Carl reached him, took a huge gulp of champagne, then turned to survey the room. “What’s wrong with Emily tonight?”
Sam searched the crowd, finally catching a glimpse of his wife before she turned the corner in the L-shaped rec. room. She'd ditched him the minute they'd arrived, and he’d hardly seen her all evening. Not that her behavior was a big surprise. Lately, she'd been acting like he carried a contagious disease. As soon as this tenure thing worked out, he'd spend a little time making up with her.
He sighed. With Jared, too. When he had tenure, then they could all be happy. He picked up his soda from the side table, and shrugged. “Who knows? All I ever get from her anymore is blank stares or attitude.”
“You’re married. What do you expect?” Carl’s avid gaze continued to roam the room. “Ouch, look at that.”
A long-haired blonde in her twenties wearing a red miniskirt flirted with the man beside her. Then the crowd shifted, hiding her from sight.
Carl sighed. “I want one of those.”