Mr. Elliott Finds A Family. Susan Floyd
had planned.
Glenn took a long time to answer. He looked at Christian, his eyes guarded, and Christian knew he was being thoroughly surveyed. Finally, Glenn asked, “What would make you think that?”
Christian felt as if he was negotiating one of the trickiest liaisons known to man. Then he shrugged and observed bluntly, “Bernadette called you Pop-pop.”
“A nickname,” Glenn replied, his eyes watching Bernie’s progress, as she tried to balance on the rock, her baby gibberish supplying background noise.
“What is she saying?” Christian couldn’t help asking when Glenn said something back to her.
“I have no idea,” Glenn replied with an honest smile. “But we’re sure it’s something important and Beth Ann is a stickler for responses.”
“Bernadette seems to talk well for someone her age.”
“We think so.” Glenn laughed. “But then we also think she’s a genius.”
“Did you know Caroline?” Christian asked, abruptly changing the subject. He wondered if Caroline would have found Glenn attractive. She had a way of fluttering from one handsome man to the next. She was very flirtatious, but he’d never thought to doubt her fidelity.
Glenn glanced away and hedged. “I met her a couple of times. I wouldn’t say I knew her.”
“Mommy!” Bernie squealed and ran to meet Beth Ann.
“Bernie-Bern-Bern. What have you been up to?”
“Gar-den,” Bernie said and then jumped up and said something rapidly before shouting “Bugs” and wandering off. She pressed her face against another rock, which left a dark smudge of dirt on her cheek.
“You know you’re in charge of the cleanup,” Beth Ann told Glenn. “I just gave her a bath last night.”
“It’s only dirt, sweetheart. It’ll wash off. So go paint. I’ve got things covered.”
“Thank you.” She handed him a baby monitor. “Iris is sleeping for now. But she’s had a tough day. She’s going to be really hungry when she wakes up, so be sure to get to the kitchen before she does. She had all four burners going with empty pots on them last weekend.”
“Again?” Glenn asked with sharp surprise.
Beth Ann’s face tightened imperceptibly and she concentrated on staring at Bernie. “It’s not again,” she denied. Christian watched her turn away from Glenn and again wondered about their relationship.
“Didn’t something similar just happen?” Glenn asked.
“No. It was a mistake. More my fault than hers,” Beth Ann said dismissively.
“Beth Ann, she’s nearly ninety.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Christian, an intensely private individual, had never seen a soul close up as fast as she did. It was as if she wasn’t even present anymore.
“So,” she said, her voice cheerful, changing the subject. “What’s in the box in the hall?”
“Mostly samples. Fred got a whole case of new paints. It’s a start-up brand, and he thought you might be feeling experimental. He wants a report on how the colors compare to the old faithfuls.”
Beth Ann laughed. “My whole life is an experiment. I’ll call him tonight and thank him. You don’t know how much that helps. I didn’t know how much more I could squeeze out of a dry tube.” She glanced at Christian. “Watercolors,” she said briefly, filling him in.
“Of course.” He nodded as if he knew what she was talking about.
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy,” Bernie said insistently.
“Just a minute, Bern. I’m talking with Pop-pop.”
Bernie was quiet for a quick second and then said more loudly, “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy—”
Beth Ann shot Christian another glance. He was amazed she remembered he was there, and his heart thumped louder as she gave him a rueful smile. “And I was the one who couldn’t wait until she said ‘mommy.’ Teaching her to talk seemed like a good idea then.” She chuckled, then turned to Glenn. “Can you get them lunch? I want to get as much done as I can before you take off.”
“Will do.”
“And...”
“And?”
Beth Ann looked around quizzically, past Christian, as if she had forgotten what it was she had say.
“I’m having an Iris moment,” she laughed, and then slapped her forehead. “Oh, yes. There’s plenty of food. Make sandwiches—don’t cut the crust off for Bernie even though she’ll want you to. Give her turkey instead of peanut butter. I’m seeing if she’s allergic. Your choice of canned soup. Potato chips—”
“Above the fridge.”
“Only a handful after Bern’s eaten most of her sandwich or she’ll just eat potato chips and no sandwich or soup. And applesauce.”
“Yes, sir.” Glenn saluted.
Beth Ann made a face at him.
Christian watched the exchange silently. It wasn’t as if she were being overly rude. After all, she had a life, and he had the eerie sensation of being plopped in the middle of it. She afforded him no special treatment. He frowned into the coffee cup. And he wasn’t certain if he liked that. He had always commanded attention, even as a young man. But of course, having Elliott as a last name didn’t hurt, and three generations of money probably helped. But here, none of that seemed to matter.
Unlike most people who would immediately be trying to capitalize on the fact they had just been given a multimillion dollar software company, Beth Ann acted as if he had offered her a dead cockroach. So different from Caroline, who’d made it very clear from the very first moment they’d met that she was acutely, intimately aware of his existence.
They’d met through Max, who had been introduced to Caroline at an exclusive private party. She was the love of his life, Max had declared, but then graciously bowed out when it became apparent that Caroline only had eyes for Christian. He’d been drawn to how earthy, and even rather naive, she was. He found her a refreshing change from bored debutantes. She was so eager to learn about what he was interested in, listening for hours as he talked about the company, the business.
The next thing he knew, he was introducing her to his mother, and the two of them bonded quickly. His mother always liked projects and Caroline had no qualms about becoming one. Caroline relished, polished, and upheld her role as the future Mrs. Christian Elliott. Maybe a little too much. Still when Christian persuaded Caroline to elope, forgoing the large wedding that his mother was planning, she seemed almost relieved. He now realized why.
He also knew that he had no idea what earthy was. If Caroline was earthy, Beth Ann was the magma that formed the earth. When he saw Beth Ann turn back to the house, he realized she was leaving and there was going to be no further discussion of the software company, of Caroline, of anything.
“I need to talk with you.” Christian stepped forward and grabbed her arm to halt her.
Beth Ann looked at him, then down at the hand that closed around her elbow. “Maybe later,” she said shortly, and tugged at her arm. He released her, understanding that she didn’t have to talk to him if she didn’t want to. He wasn’t even related. His resentment began to close his throat. Part of being married meant getting to know your spouse’s family, and he felt unrealistically that Caroline, by her secrecy, had robbed him of that. Here was a family unit, perhaps more unconventional than any he had ever experienced, but he greatly disliked the fact that he was categorically placed outside the inner circle.
If he hadn’t felt so desperate, he would have laughed at the irony. His sister-in-law