Michael's Father. Melinda Curtis
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Название: Michael's Father
Автор: Melinda Curtis
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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“Beer.” Blake didn’t equate drowning his sorrows with wine. He was one beer down already and could use at least one more to numb the feelings of helplessness he confronted in almost every aspect of his life. Blake slouched into a wooden kitchen chair and stretched out his legs. “Any reason the lights aren’t on?”
Without getting up, Luke reached into the refrigerator to get a bottle, then slid the beer across the table to him. Blake opened the bottle before he realized it was the same brand Cori had purchased earlier. After a moment’s hesitation, he took a swig. It wasn’t anything special.
“Seemed the right thing to do at the time,” Luke said, shrugging.
“You okay?” Blake uncapped his beer and took a sip. They drank for a few minutes in silence. Luke was a true Messina. Catch him in any social situation with any mix of people and he would fit right in, setting others at ease and never missing a conversational beat. As with the other Messinas, when you got too personal or they didn’t want to tell you something, he shut down. It was one of the reasons Blake would never be one of them. After nearly six years of evolving friendship, they had never let him get that close.
“Have you seen Sophia tonight?” Blake asked.
“Briefly. Cori’s been up there.”
“And you can’t be up there with her?” That seemed odd.
Luke shrugged again. “My grandfather heads up about now and he wants time alone with her, too.”
“So you file in one by one? Is there a time limit?”
Luke rubbed the skin below his eyes, shadowed from the dim lighting, lack of sleep, or both. “It’s…odd.” He shook his head. “It was easier when we were younger. Before…” The Messina response kicked in and Luke went mute.
Blake waited a full five seconds before filling in Luke’s thought. “Before Cori left?”
Luke didn’t answer verbally, just gave his beer a rueful half smile.
AFTER CHECKING TO MAKE sure that Michael still snoozed peacefully in his sleeping bag on the floor of the pink room, Cori took the back stairs to the kitchen in search of a drink.
Maybe she should have been trying to make up with her grandfather instead of avoiding him these past few days. She’d been dismissed, as if she were a child of twelve, not twenty-five, a mother with a career and responsibilities. Everyone in the Messina household treated her as if she needed to be protected and couldn’t make contributions of her own.
Some things never changed.
It was as if her own family was fooled into believing she was nothing more than the polished facade they’d created. As if they’d forgotten she’d been charming businessmen and politicians at the finest of restaurants in San Francisco while other girls were playing with Barbies. As if they assumed she didn’t know the difference between a Chardonnay and a Zinfandel vine. As if grape growing, wine-making and business acumen didn’t flow in her veins.
Now, if she’d been a man…
She trotted down the steps in the dim stairway, unhappy with the familiar train of thought. Cori hated those mental “what if” games, but couldn’t always stop playing. She stepped into the large kitchen before her mind registered that she wasn’t alone.
Luke and Blake sat at the kitchen table in the semidarkness, each nursing a beer. Nightshades.
“Hey, Sis.” Luke greeted her. “Everything okay upstairs?”
Blake took a drink from his beer, gray eyes regarding her sharply. Cori felt his disapproval target her as clearly as if he’d spoken. She should be the one sending him dark glances. He’d accused her of being selfish today, hinted that she might have a drinking problem.
As if she had time to drink in her hectic everyday life.
“Grandfather is with her now.” Cori looked away and crossed the black marble to the refrigerator. They both wanted news about Mama. Cori didn’t want to talk. She’d get a beer and take it out by the pool so she could wallow in self-pity in private.
Chrome-plated, the refrigerator was twice as large as hers at home. Cori practically stepped into it to escape from view. Somewhere in this cavernous thing there had to be a beer. She’d put in four earlier, saving the rest for PR inspiration. She poked around until she found one long-necked brown bottle that had somehow managed to get shoved behind everything else.
Luke stood as Cori clutched her prize. “I’ll go up and say good night.”
Cori nodded, practically charging for the back door before Blake had time to say anything to her.
The fifty-degree air welcomed her back to Northern California, just as Cori’s bare feet reminded her it was only February. Still, she wore blue jeans and a sweatshirt. Compared to the alternative of going back into the kitchen with Blake, she had no choice but to stay outside. On the bright side, her beer wouldn’t become warm before she finished it.
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