Mixed-Up Matrimony. Diana Mars

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “Apology accepted. Although I can see how you wouldn’t be kindly disposed toward Christopher at the moment.”

      Tamara did not deny Bronson’s statement. “I’m not too thrilled with either of the children right now.”

      “The children better not hear you call them that.”

      Automatically glancing at the entrance to the Eck Center to see if the kids were coming out, Tamara asked Bronson, “How did you find out about them?”

      “A frantic call from my cousin, who’s the head tennis coach at Deerbrook High.”

      “Brandy Cavanaugh is your cousin?” Tamara felt like adding that it was no wonder Christopher played number-one varsity singles, but knew the comment would be unfair. It wasn’t nepotism that had gotten him the top spot: the boy really was talented. Although with the kind of build he possessed, he could have his pick of any sport.

      Retraining her focus away from the inequities of gender-based athletic opportunities to the business at hand, Tamara asked Bronson, “How did Ms. Cavanaugh find out they were planning on eloping?”

      “They were supposed to hit with Dale, the junior varsity coach, before first period. Christopher was to have been in school in the morning for a pre-Calc test, and then drive down here for his session with the scout.”

      Tamara nodded. “Sabrina mentioned something about hitting with the top dog on the boys’ team before school because of the invitational coming up, which includes nationally ranked kids from out of state. She told me they were even coming from Kansas and Wisconsin. So when she left at five with an extra tennis bag, I thought nothing of it. She sometimes goes out with her friends on Fridays after classes or a home meet, and takes extra clothes with her.”

      “I guess they had it all planned. I certainly knew nothing about Sabrina. Did you know about my son?”

      Tamara’s smile was full of irony. “Did I look or sound like someone who knew what was going on? I know I’ve been putting in a lot of long hours at work, but I’ve always been able to trust Sabrina. She’s never lied to me before—not about anything important—and I certainly never opposed her dating, as long as she kept her grades up.”

      “Apparently Brandy had heard some rumors about my son and your daughter, but she’d discounted them because of the envy factor. Being a top varsity player brings a certain amount of pressure and exposure, and jealous comments are always flying around. She told me this morning that she had confronted Christopher a few weeks ago, and he’d given her the old bromide about their being just good friends.”

      “And Sabrina mentioned your son only in passing, and only in reference to how good a tennis player he was.”

      “Brandy asked around and finally cornered my son’s best friend, Jonathan, who finally admitted that our kids were really serious about each other, but since they anticipated opposition from us—”

      “And they were right!” Tamara interjected, her whole being a twisted mixture of shock, betrayal and pain.

      “—they thought it better to just shoot first, and ask questions later.”

      Tamara fought the traitorous tears that were threatening to roll down her cheeks. She strove for composure as Bronson’s sonorous voice washed over her, calming the waves of hurt and anger which this morning’s grim realities had stirred up in her.

      “She checked to see if their cars were still there, and when they weren’t, she called me. I left my foreman in charge, and I really pushed the pedal. I was lucky the ever-present State Patrol on I-90 didn’t get me.”

      Tamara’s gaze was grim. “Brina’s best friend stopped by early this morning. Even though Meghan and my daughter live only a couple of blocks away from school, they both like to drive there.”

      “Teenagers’ love affair with cars,” Bronson said, rotating his head and trying to rub some tension away from his neck with a hand, which, to his surprise, was shaking.

      Tamara smiled ruefully. “Despite their outspoken devotion to saving the environment, neither Brina nor Meghan will hear of conserving energy or cleaning up the air through carpooling.” Looking at her own hands, she noticed she had been wringing them so forcefully they were red and throbbing. Shaking her head, she said in a low, painful voice, “Apparently, Meghan didn’t sleep a wink last night, because of conscience pangs. She finally decided to tell me this morning, and she bled with each word she uttered.”

      “The tribal code teenagers live by,” Bronson said, shaking his head. “Thank God our respective teens’ best friends showed more maturity and responsibility than they did.”

      “Neither Brina nor Christopher is going to think so once they find out who told on them.” She shivered as the chilly winds buffeting the campus exacerbated the icy feeling her daughter’s actions had engendered.

      She was startled out of her tormented reflections when Bronson’s hands lifted the collar of her coat to protect her against the rising wind. His fingers brushed against her throat, and their warmth stayed with her long after he’d reluctantly lowered his arms.

      “Why don’t we sit in my car while we wait for the kids to come out?”

      Bronson’s throaty tone was not lost on Tamara. She had not misread the sparks that had flown between them, even when they’d acted like two feuding roosters upon discovering each other’s identities.

      Tamara looked at the silver Porsche. It would be crowded in that small two-seater. She was finding it harder and harder to view Bronson objectively, and sharing close quarters did not seem a good idea.

      On the other hand, standing in the icy wind that promised rapidly dropping temperatures tonight was not very judicious, either. The last thing she needed was to come down with a cold or the flu. She was on overload right now, both physically and emotionally, and her immune system was probably too weak to fight any circulating virus.

      Sighing, she nodded and followed Bronson to his car, feeling strangely like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

      Bronson opened the door for her and then went around to the driver’s side. Tamara ignored his long leg accidentally knocking into hers as he got in, and turned in her seat, ostensibly to look at him, but actually trying to put more space between them. Despite the two huge strikes against Bronson—his good looks reminding her of her ex-husband and his being Christopher’s father—she felt the ripples of his sex appeal shrink the limited space in the car, steaming away the chill she’d felt outside.

      Ignoring his all-too-knowing gaze, Tamara strove to remind them both of what was urgent. Even if their bodies seemed to have minds of their own.

      “Meghan was almost hysterical. The poor kid was torn between loyalty to my daughter and concern over Brina’s welfare. Meghan said Sabrina had told her Christopher and she were in love, and planned on getting married, no matter what. I guess they see each other as some sort of Romeo and Juliet. Of course, Sabrina knew exactly what I’d say. Marriage before she even tries to accomplish her goal of turning pro, or at least graduating from college, would be premature.”

      Bronson frowned. “Your daughter is thinking of turning pro? So is Christopher. We had discussed the possibility, but we weren’t sure if he could pursue his dream unless he received a scholarship and got help from the USTA Touring Pro program. At his СКАЧАТЬ