Whirlwind (25 page)

“For a while,” Liza replied, meeting his gaze without a blink. “When I had a steady boyfriend a couple of years ago. Want to hear about him?”

“No,” Cliff said hastily.

“It's considered common sense to ask your lover about former affairs, you know. Just to be safe—”

“I don't want to hear anything!”

“What's the matter?”

Cliff sat up, feeling shaken. “Nothing.”

How complicated life was! He'd almost forgotten. In the real world, every action resulted in a reaction. Consequences. He should have remembered that.

“Don't forget who you're talking to,” Liza said, watching him try to collect himself as she lay quietly on the cushions. Softly she said, “I can see you're upset.”

“I'm not. I just— This is more complicated than I thought.” Cliff passed his hand through his hair. “I wasn't thinking at all last night, I guess.”

“I'm glad,” Liza murmured warmly.

“No, I mean, I— Lord, birth control!”

“That's the easy part,” Liza replied. “It's the sexually transmitted diseases that scare the heck out of me. I figure you're as safe as they come since you've been such a monk lately, so I didn't grill you like I usually—”

“I don't want to hear about what you usually do.”

Liza fell silent for a moment, then she said, “Cliff, I wasn't a virgin last night. I'm a grown woman, and I've had some affairs before that didn't work out. You're not the first for me.”

“I know that.”

“And I wasn't the first for you. That was obvious. What's nice is that we've been bumped around a little, and we've found something nice together that—”

“I don't think we've found anything, Liza.”

“What do you mean?”

Cliff reached for his jeans and found them dry. “I mean I'm not ready for this.”

“I
know
that! I'm not asking for anything—”

“Yes, you are.”

“Great sex, maybe,” she said on a laugh, “but other than that—”

“I'm not kidding, Liza. You're getting something out of this relationship even if you don't see it.”

“Okay, Dr. Freud,” she said, folding up her long legs to watch him stand and get dressed. “What am I getting from you?”

Cliff slid into his jeans, frowning and struggling to put his feelings into words. He owed her that much. But he couldn't manage.

Maybe it's easier just to break things off now.

“I'm not a strong man,” Cliff said at last, turning away from Liza and starting to pace in hopes of ordering his thoughts.

“You're stronger than you think.”

“I'm not the kind of guy most girls are looking for—unless you're a girl who's got something to prove.”

“Something to prove?” Liza repeated carefully.

“Or something you wish you could fix.”

“I don't get it,” she said, but her tone had grown dangerous. She folded her arms over her chest. “You think I'm trying to fix you?”

“I think you're trying to save me,” Cliff said steadily, turning to face Liza from a safe distance, “the way you wish you could have saved your father.”

Liza's blue eyes blazed, and for a split second Cliff wished he hadn't spoken. But then he could see he was right.

Liza's voice sank to a dangerous murmur. “That's a rotten theory, Forrester.”

“Is it?” Braver, he said, “For years you've been angry with Alyssa for not saving your father from suicide.”

“Don't talk about my father.”

“Why not? Haven't you noticed the parallel?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think you're hoping you can show your mother how she should have intervened in your dad's life. That's it, isn't it, Liza? That's why you've taken up with me.”

Liza boiled to her feet. “That's not what I'm doing, and you know it!”

“No? What
are
you doing, then? Why have you come to the lodge except to rescue me from myself, Liza? Don't tell me you've come here hoping to go to bed with me. That's just the sideshow. You've bullied your way into my life hoping you can correct the past.”

“I can't believe you'd say that!”

“It's the truth,” Cliff said. “But I'm afraid you've come to save the wrong person. I'm not your father. I'm not the suicide type, Liza. If I was, I'd have done it long ago. You're wasting your time with me.”

Liza stared at him coldly for a long minute. “Maybe I am.”

L
IZA WANTED
to throw something at Cliff. Didn't he see how much she cared about him—not the past or anything else but
him?

“What about last night?” she asked quietly, seething inside.

“It was a mistake,” Cliff said at once, stiff and deadly calm. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it happen.”

“You didn't have any control over what happened last night,” Liza argued. “For once, you let your guard down.”

“And made a mistake,” Cliff finished, still damnably composed. “I should have realized why you stayed around. I should have seen that your problems with your father's death were your real reason for—”

“You think I was here to play Florence Nightingale to a ghost? You think I made love to you because you're like my
father?
”

“That's not what I mean, and you know it. Can you honestly deny that you were trying to help me last night?”

“Maybe—maybe I was,” Liza sputtered. “But, blast you, I'm not your nurse or your shrink or a doctor! Nobody can help you but yourself, Forrester! I know that better than you know it yourself!”

His face remained impassive. “Then what was last night about?”

“You idiot, it was about sexual attraction!” Liza exploded desperately. “We're two people who felt the sparks fly from the moment we met! We've had a hard time keep
ing our hands off each other as long as we did! And whether you'll admit it or not, last night was about love!”

“No, it wasn't,” Cliff said sternly. “The sex part I can believe, perhaps, but as for...as for love, as you call it—”

Liza couldn't stop her voice from rising bitterly. “Oh, what do you know about love? You're even afraid to say the word! You've been hiding from it for years—afraid to test how much your family loves you, afraid to try for yourself—”

“Liza...”

“Maybe you're just incapable of loving someone! Maybe
you're
the one with the problem! Did you ever think of that?”

“I
know
I've got problems! That's why I warned you off from the start. But you wouldn't listen and now things are out of hand and somebody's going to get hurt.”

“Well, damn you, it's not going to be me!” Liza snatched one of the cushions from the floor and slammed it onto the sofa.

“Where are you going?”

“I'm leaving, you heartless, blind bastard!”

“Liza—”

He caught her arm as she stormed past, but Liza flung him off and whirled on him in a rage. “You don't need to get mushy at this late date, Forrester. You wanted me to hit the road ever since I set foot in this drafty old barn!”

“You don't have to leave like this. Not angry and—”

“Oh, I'm not angry! I'm
furious!
And if you don't get out of my way, I'm going to punch your lights out!”

“Liza, I want you to understand me.”

“I understand everything, Forrester. It's you who's got to come to a few important conclusions. And it's obvious you're going to have to do that all by yourself. I'm leaving! And when you come to your senses, you'll have to find me.”

“What?”

“Someday you're going to realize that I don't make love with just anybody. I may be reckless and foolish, but I'm not stupid! I don't get mixed up with a man unless I really care about him—the way I care about you!” Suddenly half-blinded by the tears that threatened to choke her, Liza cried, “I
love
you, Cliff Forrester! I'm not sure why, but I do! And if you decide you can love me back, you're going to have to come looking for me, because I'm not coming back here without a hand-delivered invitation!”

Liza rushed away from him and hurried upstairs. She threw her few meager belongings into a paper sack, and as an afterthought grabbed the items they'd found in the attic before she ran down the stairs again. The hell with her sketch pad and anything else she'd left at the lodge. She found herself panting from the effort of keeping her emotions in check.

Cliff had disappeared. He didn't have the guts to say goodbye.

Outside, Liza started the convertible with a roar and backed up without looking in the rearview mirror. The car thumped over the branches that had been knocked down by last night's storm, but Liza didn't stop to assess the damage to the T-bird. She tore out of the driveway in a spray of gravel and didn't look back.

By the time she reached the highway, she was weeping. As she gripped the steering wheel and cried a bucket of hot, stinging tears, she told herself they were tears of rage. But a niggling voice in the back of her head said something else.
You're sorry this is happening. You're making a mistake.

But Liza ignored the little voice. Instead, she sped into Tyler with the wind whipping her hair into a tangle and her brain in a raging turmoil.

Without thinking, she drove to the Victorian mansion on the most familiar shady street in Tyler. It wasn't until she'd hastily parked the convertible with two wheels on the lawn,
climbed out and slammed the door that she realized where she'd run to.

“Liza!” her mother called, stepping out onto the sun-dappled porch and lifting her hand to shield her eyes. “Is that you?”

Liza took a deep breath and held it, wondering if she had the strength to face her mother on this of all mornings. Hastily, she dried the tears from her face and tried not to sniffle as Alyssa came down the slate sidewalk toward her.

Alyssa wore another sleek pair of pastel trousers and a loosely elegant blouse. No jewelry except a set of gold earrings adorned her, but she looked as carefully coiffed as a magazine photo. She smiled brilliantly.

“Liza, I'm so glad to see you here!”

Numbly, Liza allowed herself to be hugged. But when her mother's arms enfolded her so eagerly, she felt more uncontrollable emotions boil up from inside herself. She tried to hug her mother back, but the hug turned into a desperate embrace and a flood of fresh tears.

Alarmed, Alyssa cried, “Honey, what's wrong?”

“Oh, Mom,” Liza was able to say miserably, but she could explain no further.

Alyssa held her shoulders tightly. “Are you hurt?”

“It's not that. I just—I can't—He isn't—”

Gently, Alyssa slid her arm around Liza's quivering back and turned her toward the house. “It's okay, Liza,” she soothed. “Come inside and tell me about it.”

The porch hadn't changed, nor had the colorful pots of geraniums and the spanking white pillows on the wicker swing. The tall front door still squeaked when it swung on its hinges, and the cool air in the front hallway smelled like the same breakfast Liza had taken every day for the first eighteen years of her life—oatmeal and wheat toast and a fragrant Chinese tea with oranges.

It smelled like home, and Liza needed a home again, she realized. Since she'd left Tyler, she'd never felt so
homesick as she did standing in the hallway of that familiar house with her mother holding her.

“I need you, Mom,” Liza said.

“I'm here, honey.”

“I've been a dope and I wish—I wish you could fix things for me.”

“What's happened?”

Liza hiccuped and said, “It's Cliff.”

“What about Cliff?”

“I—I'm falling in love with him, Mom.”

Alyssa said not a word, but guided Liza down the hallway and into the kitchen. She poured two cups of tea from the cherry-red teapot and carried them through the dining room filled with mahogany antiques to the gaily painted sun porch on the back of the house. There, she pressed Liza into the white wicker love seat and perched herself on the matching footstool.

“Drink up,” Alyssa ordered kindly. “Then we'll talk.”

The tea tasted good, and Liza was surprised to find herself calming down once she'd taken a few swallows.

She smiled ruefully at Alyssa. “It's funny, isn't it? Me coming here with troubles in my love life.”

“That's what mothers are for, you know, to help their children with their love lives.”

Liza shook her head firmly. “But I never needed help before. I'd have drunk poison before I'd tell you anything personal...”

“Well, you've grown up a little,” Alyssa said softly, and she squeezed Liza's knee. “What's the problem with Cliff? Did you mean what you said? That you were falling in love with him?”

“I know it's happened too quickly. But I think it's the real thing. I think about him all the time, and I want to be good to him.”

“That's one of the first signs, all right.”

“But I— Maybe I'm doing all the wrong things.”

“He's very vulnerable,” Alyssa murmured. “You can't make too many demands on him, I'm afraid.”

Liza hung her head. “I told him I wouldn't go back—that he'd have to come get me. But he can't do that. I know he won't leave the lodge unless it's life or death. He's got some kind of phobia, I think.”

“I've suspected that myself. It's not surprising. After all he's been through, he's finally found a place that's safe and he doesn't want to leave it.”

“So I shouldn't have made that ultimatum.”

“You could go back to him. Or is your pride at stake?”

Alyssa smiled to take the sting from her words, and Liza found herself smiling wryly, too. “My pride will be my downfall,” she admitted. “But this time...well, Cliff said some things that really hurt.”