Slow Ride. Carrie Alexander

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СКАЧАТЬ smiled. “Do you think I’ve lost my touch?” She tapped one of the needles to her nearly unlined forehead. “I may need bifocals now, but my third eye sees as well as ever, Aurora. The less you say, the more I’m sure there’s something big going on in your head. Why don’t you talk it out? You always kept your worries too much to yourself.”

      “Some of us don’t feel the need to announce our every body twinge and passing thought to the general public.”

      Emma was unperturbed. “Bottling up your emotions isn’t healthy. When was the last time you had a colonic?”

      Gawd! Rory flung herself back against the pillows. She gazed up at the sitting room’s antique tin ceiling, original to the house, and counted to ten. “I am fine, Mom. Both physically and emotionally. Quit looking for trouble.”

      Her mother shrugged. Creak, creak. Click, clack.

      Blessed peace. Rory was almost lulled.

      Emma speared a loop of yarn. “No decision yet on the baby question?”

      Oh, damn. That. Baby-making had not been on Rory’s mind the past few days, except in a recreational capacity. “I only said I was considering having a baby. You know, mulling it over. I’m not anywhere close to a decision.”

      “My friends Deena and Azure went to a sperm bank.”

      Rory made a face. “Jerry Garcia being no longer available.”

      “Jerry was always a generous man,” Emma said fondly before returning to Rory’s dilemma. “All I’m saying is, keep your options open.”

      “I’m not so hard up that I can’t find a donor on my own.” Though Rory had her doubts. Her baby daydreams had gone as far as wondering who would be the father, but hadn’t gotten much beyond that even though there were several good male friends she could ask. Too large a part of her still wanted to go the traditional marriage route.

      Which was odd, given her upbringing. Her father, one of Emma’s many lovers, had drifted into Rory’s life at infrequent intervals, acting more like a friendly, but distant, uncle than a dad. Larger-than-life Emma had filled in for the lack with supreme confidence. She’d been everything—father, mother, disciplinarian, instigator, best friend.

      Rory worried a ragged cuticle. On second thought, perhaps her inclination to experience the one type of family life Emma couldn’t provide was not so odd. She had immense respect for her mother, but not everyone could live up to her example.

      “A grandchild would be nice.” Emma rocked, placid and obdurate. Every child who arrived at Garrison Street soon learned that for all of Emma’s go-with-the-flow philosophies, she was also the original immovable object. “You don’t need to approach this like a business decision, sweetie. A baby is Mother Nature at her finest. Plant a seed, it will sprout. The practical details will work out.”

      Rory squirmed. She’d change the subject, but the only other one that sprang to mind was sex. Her sisters were comfortable discussing the details of their sex lives with Emma. Rory less so. “I can’t believe you’re trying to talk me into having a baby on my own. Whatever happened to family values?”

      “Don’t try to distract me with political posturing. I wouldn’t be going along with the idea if I wasn’t sure it’s something you truly want.” Emma rearranged her tangled skein of yarn. “Lauren and Mikki and I will always be here to help. It takes a village…”

      “I know, but that’s not the point.”

      “Don’t tell me you want a husband first.”

      Rory pressed her knuckles against her smile. “I know it’s a radical idea, but you raised me to be an independent thinker.”

      Her mother sniffed. “I have nothing against the concept of life mates.”

      “And marriage vows…?”

      Brows raised, Emma peered at Rory over the rim of her reading glasses. “If you must.”

      “Don’t worry. I have no prospects at the moment, for either a husband or a father.”

      “What about the young man you’re going to Mendocino with?”

      “I haven’t decided about that.”

      “Hmm. I’ve forgotten his name.”

      “I didn’t tell you.”

      “One of the girls must have mentioned him during brunch.”

      There was no hiding. “Tucker Schulz.” Rory’s stomach flipped over. “Don’t get any ideas. His only potential is as a friend.”

      Emma’s all-knowing gaze was on Rory’s face; she felt it heating up. “Mikki knows him?”

      “He’s Nolan’s best friend.”

      “Interesting.”

      “No, it’s not. Not for my part.” But her mother had always been able to read her like a book and it was clear she could see past Rory’s avowals even when she continued to deny her interest.

      After a moment the knitting needles resumed clicking. “There’s nothing wrong with going as friends.”

      Nothing right about it, either, Rory thought. She’d be asking for trouble. So far, Mikki was still talking about researching divorce laws and filing new papers to end her marriage, but they’d been close for too long. Rory knew how much feeling her sister had buried under the hard-hearted act.

      Which meant Tucker was right. If they had a weekend fling, and then Nolan and Mikki ended up together after all, they’d be forced to see each other over and over, in the most awkward of social circumstances. Some women were able to keep ex-lovers as friends—namely her mother. Rory doubted she could be as equable. For years after Brad had dumped her, she’d avoided his neighborhood and their mutual friends. When he’d moved away, her relief had been enormous.

      But this was Tucker, not Brad. Was she so afraid of the possible consequences that she’d give up the grand prize trip? There was caution, and then there was stupidity.

      Rory couldn’t remember the last time a man had taken her to such a high level of attraction so quickly. Judging by Tucker’s actions—and reactions—he shared at least some of her fascination.

      Any future awkwardness might be worth it, she told herself. Their explosive chemistry indicated a risk worth taking.

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