Accompanying Alice Page 9

  “I don’t know. I thought I did once, but he turned out to be a shadow on the wall—all looks, no substance.”

  “How old was he, seventeen, eighteen?” He was treading thin ice and didn’t care. Or did care and didn’t want to. He’d been that boy once, all hormones, no soul. “What kind of time had he had to develop any substance?”

  “Almost a year more than I had.”

  They were talking to one another in riddles, he realized, as though they’d known one another forever and could assume understanding. The intimacy of the bond might have worried him if they hadn’t been so busy accusing one another of things someone else had done. “And that’s what you judged him on. How old he was compared to you?”

  “No, I judged him on how he let other people treat me and make his decisions for him. On how he made me see myself. Judge myself.” Her eyes focused on the dining room window, looking at things he couldn’t see. Life was too busy to spend much of it chasing her tail around sore memories all the time, she knew, but there were moments...

  She firmly shoved yesterday behind her where it belonged. One thing Alice Meyers-née-Brannigan did well was to push herself forward all the time, no matter what, without ever turning around to peer backward with regret. In fact, she reminded herself, the only time she did look back was when she wanted to remember who she didn’t want to be anymore. And, maybe, who she could be now.

  She took in Gabriel’s face, the planes and angles, the bruises and the tired brown eyes, the remnants of a yesterday that made her shake. “Why are you defending him like you knew him?”

  “I was him. Oh, not—” he waved a coffee mug in a gesture of denial “—anybody’s father, I don’t mean that, but I’ve given in to peer pressure, let other people influence me, make decisions for me.” He turned his face from her, thinking of Scully and Markum and their dangerous hidden

  agendas, then eyed her directly. “I let people use me.”

  “Like I’m using you?”

  “And I’m using you. It’s mutual. We made a deal. Agreed to it.” He shrugged acceptance of a suddenly unpleasant fait accompli. “Chose it as the lesser of available evils.”

  She didn’t like the picture he was putting together. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t fun.

  She tried to look away from him, but his face, his eyes, his acceptance and awareness of the little sins that diminished people held her. Last night he’d touched her heart, yesterday evening her fantasies, today the hidden places inside her, the places she didn’t want to see, acknowledge, or hear from. “I don’t think I like you very much.”

  “We don’t have to like each other to work together, Alice.”

  He regretted it the moment he said it. As he had occasion to know, words wounded more easily than shrapnel, did more damage, were harder to remove. He watched Alice’s eyes grow hooded, her face aloof as though she’d dealt once too often with disapproval and knew exactly how to numb herself to it. He looked away from her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… You’ve been kind. I shouldn’t...”

  Alice shook her head sadly. “Yes, you meant, and so did I. We don’t always say what we should in awkward situations. People are so contradictory, don’t you think? One way at night, another by day. It’s hard to remember where you stand, what rights you have, how well you know someone after only twenty-four hours in their company.”

  Just like that her directness caught him again, made him feel good, made him like her. Made him grin. “You’re good,” he said with admiration. “You sure you don’t come with an operator’s manual?” .

  “Sorry, burned it. Makes life more interesting. Or so my kids tell me.”

  “Too bad. I wanted to see what it had to say about mood swings and character traits.”

  “Oh, I can tell you that.” Alice bunched her face into a reflective attitude. “It said, and I quote “Handle with care. Mood and character subject to change without notice.”“

  Gabriel chuckled. “Somehow I knew that.” He eyed her, and connection stirred between them again, took firmer root. “So, philosophies aside, we are dealing with your family and I do need to know who I am today. Helen and Grace have already met me, but what they really saw...” He shrugged. “Could be a mistake. I can still change anything to be... whoever would suit you best. What color eyes do I have, what clothing do I wear, how do I appear? Am I rich, submissive, cocky—”

  “‘Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief,’’’ Alice quoted the child’s rhyme gently. “‘Eeny, meeny, miney, moe... You choose. I told you I wasn’t any good at games. Ask my sisters. I’m a poor loser. Just be yourself. That’s who they’ll expect.” She stuck her tongue in her cheek, grinned at him. “I mean, if I wanted to know you, that’s who I’d want to know.”

  “Thanks. And if I don’t know me?”

  Alice’s smile widened, and all at once he knew how Daniel had felt girding himself for the lion’s den. No matter what happened while he waited out the time until the serial number on the gun Nicky had died for was identified, ballistics checked, the information on the thumb drive unencrypted and verified, Alice Meyers wouldn’t give him any ground. He understood that now. He could force her to look at herself all he wanted, but in the end the tactic would backfire on him. However much she hemmed and hawed, when it came right down to it, she’d give him flat truth without excuses, would make him see reflections of himself in the questions he put to her. A no nonsense woman. Gave none, expected none. And whether he wanted to or not, he could identify with that.

  The smile he gave her was genuine. “Let’s go shopping,” he said.

  *

  Alice approached shopping the way a four star general approached military maneuvers: with calculation and an eye to getting everything she could out of the battle while sustaining the minimum number of casualties. That there would be casualties went without saying.

  While Gabriel tapped his feet impatiently, she went through the ads in the previous night’s paper. She needed, she told him, a few groceries, and the shoe store across the street from the Meijer megastore was having a sale on brand name tennis shoes and dress boots. Since he needed clothing basics as well as one or two dress extras, they’d go to Meijer first, get groceries, underwear, jeans and shirts, drive across the street for shoes, then stop at the outlet mall to find him a pair of dress slacks and a summer weight sweater. Unless, she amended belatedly, he had other ideas?

  “What time are we supposed to meet the family?” Gabriel asked, amused, but trying to hurry her along.

  “Eleven.”

  “It’s ten-thirty now.”

  Alice grabbed her purse and the ads, glanced over her shoulder at him on her way out the door. “So we’ll be late,” she said.

  Gabriel grinned and followed her, letting the possible implications fall where they may.

  ***

  It was amazing how intimate and revealing shopping was.

  Something as mundane as buying skivvies took on a whole new meaning when tackled by a woman used to purchasing necessities for children and a man who shopped only when he absolutely couldn’t avoid it.

  “What do you like?” Alice asked without embarrassment, reading the information on the racks of packages in front of her. “High-rise, low-rise, string bikini, cotton, polyester, nylon, fly-front or no-fly... What size are you, anyway?”

  “I’ve never had any complaints.”

  “Huh?”

  Ah, good, she hadn’t been listening. Relieved, he selected a three-pack of medium low-rise briefs and dropped them into the cart Alice pushed. “These’ll do.”

  Alice selected a second package of the same brand in brighter colors. “Better get two because you never know. It’s always best to have enough underwear for a week.”

  “What is that, a rule?”

  “No, it’s practical.” The always serious, ever responsible Alice eyed him strangely, then with a flash of insight. Her pushiness and newly laid back attitude toward missing appointments were getting to him. Interesting.
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  She tilted her head to view him from a better angle. Hmm.

  It was intriguing to see someone who took his sense of responsibility for the world even more seriously than she did. To all at once understand what her sisters meant when they told her that she’d lost her sense of humor and forgotten how to play. To get a taste of what it must be like for her family to be around her. To understand why they teased her. She always took their bait, and it was fun.

  She ran her tongue around her teeth wondering how far Gabriel would let his patience be tried. She decided to find out. “Didn’t your mother teach you about buying underwear? You buy one package, that means you’ve got underwear for only three more days. It’s five days till the wedding. If I don’t have a chance to do laundry between now and then, what will you wear?”

  “I’ll do what women do. I’ll rinse out a pair in the bathroom sink and hang them on the rod to dry.”

  “Where Aunt Kate, Uncle Delbert and probably my mother will see them? I don’t think so.”

  Patience bordering on exasperation, Gabriel glared at her. This was the most ridiculous debate he’d ever participated in, a far cry from the deadly meaningful conversations that were part of his norm before he’d met her. He was out of his element. He didn’t give a fig about the details concerning how much underwear he bought, but she had a point. He opened his mouth to tell her so, but she’d moved on to socks.

  He needed, she suggested, black dress socks for the wedding—he vetoed garters when she asked—and sweat socks for everything else. Did he prefer cushion foot or regular, calf-height, ankle-height or crew, white or gray-with-colored bands?

  If he’d been by himself, Gabriel would have grabbed the first package he came across, but Alice explored the display thoroughly, comparing styles, fibers and durability. Finished, she offered him an informed analysis of what was available for him to choose from.

  In Tshirts she breezily ventured the opinion that, except for buying one hot pink surfer T-shirt that would do wonders for his complexion, he might color-coordinate the rest with his briefs. By the time they got to shirts and blue jeans in Men’s Casual Wear, Gabriel was gritting his teeth and firmly suggesting that they would save time and tempers if Alice would simply go get her groceries from the other side of the store while he selected his own clothes, and thank you very much, but he would meet her at checkout twelve in fifteen minutes. Alice’s mouth and chin quivered at the tone of his voice. She shut her eyes and bit her lips, trying to hang on to her emotions. And failing.

  Sound burbled into her throat, refusing to stay where it didn’t belong. Air gasped between her lips, came out in a sob. Unprepared for this reaction, Gabriel stared at her in amazement. He hadn’t intended to make her cry. He patted her shoulder awkwardly. Alice covered her face with one hand, shoulders shaking.

  “Alice? I’m sorry, Alice. I didn’t mean to criticize. It’s… I’m not used to… No one’s ever bought… We used whatever was sent at the mission, and since then I buy my own, and you… and I couldn’t—”

  “Take it anymore?” Alice supplied. Tears stood in her eyes when she looked up at him, and her throat struggled to suppress more laughter. Oh, dear, he looked so sincere, so repentant, so crushed. She couldn’t laugh at him. Not in public. Really shouldn’t. But she laughed at him, anyway. Giggled, chuckled, roared.

  “Oh, hell.” Gabriel shut his eyes and shook his head, disgusted with himself for letting her take him in.

  Alice squeezed his arm, eyes bright. “Gotcha.”

  “Well and truly.” He nodded, grinning reluctantly.

  Alice wiped her face with the edge of her hand. “God, that felt good. My daughters keep telling me I should cut loose once in a while. I’m glad you stopped me before I had you try on every pair of jeans in the store.”

  Without thinking, Gabriel cupped her head, helped her smear the tears from her cheeks. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. “It wouldn’t have gone that far. I’d have strangled you by pair number three.”

  Alice rested a hand on his wrist, smiling up at him. “Naw, you wouldn’t.”

  Gabriel brushed the end of her nose with the tip of one finger. “‘Fraid I would.”

  “Uh-uh. Too many witnesses. You’d have waited till we got back to the car.”

  Her hair was soft, skin smooth, her eyes trusted him. His lungs suddenly stopped working. Feeling whooshed through him, saturated every nerve. “Well, maybe.” God, he needed to kiss her. Not wanted to, nor even lusted to. Needed to. Because if he didn’t, he’d be like the drowning man who’d fought his way to the surface of the water and gone back under without taking the breath of air that might have saved his life.

  With conscious effort he opened his fingers and released her, turned to the rack of jeans beside him. Found a pair of prewashed button-flys in his size. Put them in the cart. Took a breath and looked at her again.

  There was a breathless quality about her, something flushed and expectant that, if asked, he wouldn’t have known quite how to describe. She wasn’t waiting for him to do something, exactly. She wasn’t exactly looking at him at all. It was something in the way she kept glancing at him and smiling as though she’d unexpectedly discovered something wonderful. In him.

  Again he looked away, blindly reaching for the rack of shirts and sliding hanger after hanger aside until his fingers encountered the smooth-rough familiar texture of oxford cloth and paused. He held the light blue shirt up to check the size, glancing at Alice for approval. Odd. He didn’t remember it ever mattering before whether or not he pleased someone else with his decisions.

  He finished shopping uneasily, paying for his purchases and Alice’s groceries, too, handing her back the money she’d lent him yesterday in the pawnshop. He didn’t want to owe her anything, either in money or emotions. He had to keep track of everything, hold on to receipts, keep reality separate from fiction, the same as on any case.

  Stick to business. Don’t make emotional transactions, Markum had advised. Or had it been Scully?

  But when they stopped to get him running shoes and walking boots, Alice made him laugh and Gabriel once again forgot to remember who he was.

  *

  It was nearly one o’clock before they arrived at the huge center that specialized in providing space rental, clothing and catering needs for banquets, balls and wedding receptions. Bunched accusingly together, five of Alice’s sisters sat waiting for them at the edge of the decorative fountain in the lobby. Alice’s courage quailed at the sight of them. At the edges of her mind, she could almost hear them grilling Helen about her, about Gabriel:

  Who is this guy?

  Where did he come from?

  What does he do?

  Where did she meet him?

  She was dressed how?

  You said she was cutting his hair?

  What’s his last name?

  Nice butt.

  Rest of him’s not bad, either.

  I’ll bet they didn’t do anything.

  Nah, you’re probably right. She was probably just trying to get out of dating Skip.

  You think?

  Sure. He’s not really her type. Too nice.

  “Oh, God.” Alice stopped dead, turning to Gabriel for support. He cupped her shoulders instinctively.

  “What’s the matter?’

  “They’ve been talking about me.”

  “That surprises you?”

  “No, it’s just...I don’t think I can do this.” She fiddled unconsciously with the buttons of the new shirt he’d put on during their last stop, tilted an anxious face to him. He felt and looked good, warm, sexy. Familiar. The tip of her tongue flicked out to taste her upper lip. “I told you I’m not good at this, Gabriel.”

  He touched her face, smoothed her hair back over her ear, liking the way she turned to him. The way it felt to hold her. Reassure her. “I’m right beside you. You’ll do fine.”

  Alice crushed his shirt in her hand. “But—”

  “Shh.” Ga
briel put a finger to her lips, shutting out the world for an instant, intent only on her. “Don’t think so much, it gets in the way.” He drew a long breath and stooped without warning, kissing her hard. Her lips parted slightly, asking to linger with his, but he pulled himself up sharply, shying away from the danger zone her mouth represented. “Just stick by me,” he whispered, “and we’ll both be fine.”

  He held her an instant longer than it took her to square her shoulders, then released her. Her eyes were on him, soft, self-conscious, wary, full of maybe. He tried to repress the surge of heat her maybe made him feel, and failed. His palms on her shoulders felt damp. “Ready?”

  Not for you, Alice thought, and kept the hand that wanted to touch the kiss he’d left on her mouth folded tightly at her side. “It might be better for you if you just wait here and I do this first part alone.”

  Gabriel grinned. “Easier maybe, not better.”

  “Sure?” Alice asked. “I’ll be all right if you want to duck off to the men’s shop and see about your tux—”

  “United we stand.” He laughed and offered her his hand, wanting hers for support. “Besides, what else are friends for?”

  “Well—” Alice’s smile was small and crooked “—if you’re sure.”

  Without a word Gabriel drew her hand through the crook of his arm and together they walked across the lobby.

  Friends.

  With potential.

  *

  “You’re late,” they accused Alice, while their eyes pinned, examined and dissected Gabriel. “No one answered your phone. We’ve been calling for over an hour. You should have called. We were worried about you.”

  “Sorry,” Alice apologized. “We made a couple stops. Gabriel needed a few things.”

  A likely story, their eyes said.

  Alice sucked in air. If they refused to believe the truth when she told it... Why did she feel guilty about telling it?