Matthew's Children. C.J. Carmichael

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СКАЧАТЬ the sake of the daughter he still had, Gavin had relocated his small family to New Hampshire, where he was now happily remarried.

      Whenever Matthew was in a pinch with his kids, he always asked himself what Gavin would do. Now, as he settled Violet into her bed precisely at eight o’clock and Derrick still hadn’t shown up, he found himself once again wishing for his brother’s wisdom.

      Violet had always been a sound sleeper, and her eyes were closed by the time he had her covered. “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek, then left her room with the door ajar.

      The view out the front window was disappointing. No sign of Derrick. He called his son’s cell phone—last year’s Christmas gift—only to be put through to messages.

      “It’s after eight, Derrick. You should be home by now. Please call as soon as you get this.”

      Matthew riffled through the newspaper, but he couldn’t concentrate. An ad for watches caught his eye. Wasn’t that the same brand Jane wore? He felt a rush of pure sexual desire as he pictured the gold band slipping up and down her slim, elegant wrist.

      He imagined pressing a kiss to her wrist, then trailing his mouth along the length of her arm until he reached the delicate skin of her neck. Would she moan? Sigh? How did Jane react when she was aroused?

      He stopped the fantasy before it could go further. He had no right thinking of her this way. No right to wish for anything more than the possibility that they could be colleagues again. Friends.

      He located the remote control for the television and cruised through the channels, finding nothing that could hold his interest. Resisting the urge to phone Jane, he started to pace.

      The door to Gillian’s bedroom was open, and as he walked by, he noticed a pair of men’s shoes on the floor.

      He paused. It was none of his business. He knew Gillian had been dating. But was the guy also spending the night?

      For Matthew not to go into the bedroom to look around took a lot of willpower. He was especially curious about the master bathroom. Would there be an extra toothbrush in the holder? A razor and some shaving gel?

      He didn’t begrudge Gillian a sex life. But what impact would it have on the kids when their mother’s boyfriend showed up at the breakfast table? Violet was too young to think much about it, but Derrick would understand what was going on.

      The last thing Matt wanted was to start a fight with Gillian. But he would ask her about this, he decided. Surely he had some rights as a father.

      His concern about Gillian’s boyfriend faded, though, as another fifteen minutes went by and Derrick still wasn’t home.

      There were some numbers by the phone, and he recognized the names of two of the boys on Derrick’s soccer team. He called both of them, but neither of the mothers who answered had seen Derrick this evening.

      Hell. Now what?

      Matthew was considering phoning Gavin, or even Nick, whose connections on the police force might be useful right about now, when finally the back door opened.

      “Derrick.” Thank God.

      His son kicked out of his runners, then headed for the fridge without saying a word, or even glancing in his direction.

      Don’t jump to conclusions, Matthew counseled himself. It was what he imagined Gavin’s advice would be if he were here. Keeping his tone calm and reasonable, Matt pointed out to his son, “You were supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago. Did something happen?”

      “I missed the bus.” Derrick poured himself a tall glass of juice.

      “You missed the bus,” he repeated. Did Derrick know how lame that sounded? Or perhaps that was the point. “Maybe you should have showed up at the bus stop five minutes earlier.”

      “Yeah. Maybe.”

      Matthew couldn’t help it. His anger rose. “At the very least, you could have phoned.” He checked the impulse to say that he’d been worried, that he’d even been thinking about contacting the police.

      “The batteries in my phone were dead.”

      “Really?”

      “Yeah.” Derrick’s eyes met his and they were so full of defiance that Matthew knew he was lying. As if to prove it, his son’s cell phone let out a burst of music, signaling an incoming call.

      The chime repeated four times. Derrick ignored it. He was still staring at Matthew as if daring him to do something. Options ran through Matthew’s head, most of them out of the question. He didn’t want his first words to be spoken in anger. He struggled for calm.

       One. Two. Three.

      “You were supposed to be home by eight, Derrick, and you weren’t. You don’t have a good reason, so there will be consequences.”

      Derrick smirked.

      Again Matthew had to rein in his temper. “You’re grounded for the rest of the week—and that includes no cell phone.” He held out his hand until his son passed it over. “Plus you won’t see any friends this weekend.”

      His words hit their mark. The pressure on his chest eased as uncertainty flickered in Derrick’s eyes.

      But a moment later, the arrogance was back. “Fine. Ground me. Mom won’t stop me from going out.”

      “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Matthew was so disappointed he was practically choking on it. He’d been thinking about the conversation he wanted to have with his son all evening, and none of this had been part of the script.

      He cleared his throat. Tried to make a fresh start. “Now, about your soccer situation—”

      “If you’re talking about the coach, don’t worry about it. Like you said, the soccer association found us a new one.”

      Damn. Could nothing go right for him and Derrick tonight? “Good,” he said weakly. “I guess this means the game on Friday is a go.”

      “I guess.” Taking the glass of juice with him, Derrick disappeared into his bedroom.

      Matthew groaned with frustration, then picked up the newspaper one more time. He’d read through the business section and sports by the time Gillian arrived home.

      She entered through the back door, too, and set down a bag stuffed with what looked like a batch of test papers. She’d taught drama between acting gigs before they were married, but she’d never really loved the work. It was something she did for the extra cash and to get out of the house.

      She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes alighting on the plate he’d used for Violet’s snack.

      Feeling as if she’d caught him out, Matthew grabbed the plate and stacked it in the dishwasher. “How was class?”

      “Not bad. I’ve got a decent group this semester. Some of them even have talent.” She bent over to move Derrick’s sneakers out of the way. “Did Derrick finish his homework?”

      Matthew СКАЧАТЬ