Hottest Mess (SIN 2)

"Well, yeah," I admit. "That about sums it up." I consider him thoughtfully. "I guess I should have assumed that you'd know. You know pretty much everything that goes on in this house."

"I do indeed." This time, I don't have to search to see that he's amused. It's all over his face. "Surely you didn't think that I find job satisfaction in throwing decadent parties for a useless playboy."

"I--no." I frown, remembering. I've seen the pride on Archie's face when he looks at Dallas, heard it in his voice. But Archie isn't the kind of man who would be pleased by the lifestyle that Dallas projects. On the contrary, he helped raise us, and I know he feels proprietary about us. A wasted life isn't something he would be happy about.

"And Mrs. Foster?" I ask, referring to Liam's mother.

"She knows about Deliverance. Dallas and Liam decided early on that it made sense to tell her. She supports it, though she doesn't work for it."

"And you do."

"As much as I'm able."

I exhale loudly. "So many secrets ..."

"But fewer today than yesterday, Miss Jane."

"You call Dallas and Liam by their names. Why am I Miss Jane?"

"Because I'm an old man set in my ways."

I actually snort. "Not hardly."

He chuckles. "I'll let you get dressed now. Shall I pour first?"

It takes me a minute to realize he means the coffee. I've managed to wake up just fine without a single cup. "I'll get it myself in a bit."

He nods, then starts toward the door.

"Archie?"

He turns back.

"Thanks."

He hesitates. "I should clarify--when I said that I was surprised he told you about Deliverance, I meant the timing, not the revelation. You two couldn't be what you are to each other with something that significant hanging between you."

"He told you that?"

"No, but as you said, there's not much I miss that goes on in this house. Last week, I knew you two had a disagreement. I had hoped you would make up, of course, but I didn't anticipate that revelations about Deliverance would be part of that equation."

"Deliverance was at the heart of the argument," I confide. "I learned about it accidentally and kind of freaked out."

"Ah," he says, as if all the pieces are falling into place.

They're falling into place for me, too. "You don't really have a sick aunt in Pennsylvania, do you?" I recall how he'd left without even speaking to Dallas. We'd simply come back into the house from the cabana and found Archie's note.

"I have a cousin in Chicago who's feeling slightly under the weather, but no. I thought the two of you needed some privacy."

"And, um, it really doesn't bother you? What Dallas and I are to each other, I mean." It's an awkward question, but I'm compelled to ask it. If Archie's not freaked out, then maybe my parents will come to accept it, too.

It's a nice little fantasy, and so I cling to it gratefully, but I also know it's not true. My mother, maybe. But Daddy? Not in a million years.

It takes a moment for Archie to answer, and in the silence, I can read nothing in his face. Finally, he speaks. "Do you intend to give him up?"

"No." My answer is firm and immediate.

"Then it doesn't matter what I think. It doesn't matter what anybody thinks," he adds, as if he understands exactly where my mind has been going.