"That's all right." Deliberately she pulled a chair out from the table. "You sit down and I'll talk."
Women, Ethan decided as he dropped into the chair, were the bane of his existence. "I guess I'll take the coffee, then."
"All right." She poured him a mug, brought him a spoon so he could dump his customary heaps of sugar into it. She sat, folded her hands neatly, and continued to smile.
"You stupid jerk."
"Oh, Jesus." He rubbed his hands over his face, left them there. "Not another one."
"I'm going to make it easy on you at first. I'll ask a question, you answer. Are you in love with Grace?"
"Yes, but—"
"No qualifications." Anna cut him off. "The answer is yes. Is Grace in love with you?"
"Hard to say just now." He shifted his hand to nurse the point on his chest where she'd all but bored a hole in him.
"The answer is yes," Anna said coolly. "Are you both single, otherwise unattached adults?"
He could feel himself sinking into a sulk, and detested it. "Yeah—so?"
"Just laying the groundwork, gathering the facts. Grace has a child, correct?"
"You know damn well—"
"Correct." Anna lifted her cup, took a sip of coffee. "Do you have feelings of affection for Aubrey?"
"Of course I do. I love her. Who wouldn't?"
"And does she have feelings of affection for you?"
"Sure. What—"
"Wonderful. We've established the emotions of the parties involved. Now let's move on to stability. You have a profession, and a new business. You appear to be a man with skill, who's willing to work and has the capability of earning a good living. Have you incurred any large, outstanding debts you believe you'll have difficulty meeting?"
"For God's sake!"
"No offense intended," she said brightly. "I'm simply approaching this matter the way I assume you would, calmly, patiently, step by tedious step."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Seems to me people are having major problems with how I do things lately."
"I love the way you do things." She reached across the table and gave his tense hand an affectionate squeeze. "I love you, Ethan. It's wonderful for me to have a big brother at this stage of my life."
He shifted in his chair. He was touched by the obvious sincerity in her eyes, but he had a feeling she was tenderizing him in preparation for the roasting to come. "I don't know what's going on around here."
"I think you'll figure it out. So, we'll say you're financially sound. Grace, as we know, is well capable of earning a living. You own your own home, and a one-third share in this one. Shelter certainly isn't an issue. So, we'll move on. Do you believe in the institution of marriage?"
He knew a trick question when he heard one. "It works for some people. Doesn't work for others."
"No, no, do you believe in the institution itself? Yes or no."
"Yes, but—"
"Then why the hell aren't you down on one knee with a ring in your big, clumsy hand, begging the woman you love to give your fat head another chance?"
"I'm a patient man," Ethan said slowly, "but I'm getting tired of insults."
"Don't you dare get out of that chair," she warned when he started to scrape it back. "I swear I'll belt you. God knows I want to."
"That's another thing that's going around." He subsided only because it seemed easier to get it all over with at once. "Go ahead then, say what you have to say."
"You think I don't understand. You think I can't relate to what's eating you up inside. You're wrong. I was raped when I was ten years old."
Shock jolted his heart, pain squeezed his soul. "Jesus, Anna! Jesus, I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Now you do. Does it change me, Ethan? Aren't I the same person I was thirty seconds ago?" She reached for his hand again, held it this time. "I know what it is to be helpless and terrified and want to die. And I know what it is to make something of your life, despite that. And I know what it is to have that horror in you always. No matter how much you've learned, no matter how much you've come to accept it and know it was never, ever your fault."
"It's not the same."
"It's never the same, not for any two people. We have something more in common as well. I never knew who my father was. Was he a good man or a bad one? Tall or short? Did he love my mother, or did he use her? I don't know what parts of him were passed to me."
"But you knew your mother."
"Yes, and she was wonderful. Beautiful. And yours wasn't. She beat you, physically and emotionally. She made you a victim. Why are you letting her keep you one? Why are you letting her win even now?"
"It's me now, Anna. There has to be something twisted, something sour inside a person to make them the way she was. I came from that."
"Sins of the fathers, Ethan?"
"I'm not taking on her sins, I'm talking about heredity. You can pass on the color of your eyes, your build. Weak hearts, alcoholism, longevity. Those things can run in families."
"You've given this a lot of thought."
"Yeah, I have. I had to make a decision, and I made it."
"So you decided you could never marry or have children."
"It wouldn't be fair."
"Well, then, you'd better talk to Seth before too long."
"Seth?"
"Someone has to tell him he's never going to be able to have a wife and children. It's best if he knows that early, so he can try to protect himself from becoming emotionally involved with a woman."
For a trio of heartbeats he could only gape at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Heredity. We can't be sure what bad traits Gloria DeLauter passed down to him. God knows she's got something twisted inside her, just as you said. A whore, a drunk, a junkie, from all accounts."
"There's nothing wrong with that boy."
"What difference does that make?" She met Ethan's furious stare blandly. "He shouldn't be allowed to take chances."
"You can't mix him in with me this way."
"I don't see why. You both come from similar situations. In fact, there are far too many cases that come through social services nationally that slip into parallel categories. I wonder if we can pass a law to prevent children of abusers from marrying and having children of their own. Think of the risks we'd avoid."
"Why don't you just geld them?" he said viciously.
"That's an interesting concept." She leaned forward. "Since you're so determined not to pass on any unhealthy genes, Ethan, have you considered a vasectomy?"
The instinctive and purely male cringe nearly made her laugh. "That's enough, Anna."
"Is that what you would recommend to Seth?"
"I said that's enough."
"Oh, it's more than enough," she agreed. "But answer this last question. Do you think that bright, troubled child should be denied a full and normal life as an adult because he had the bad luck to be conceived by a heartless, perhaps even evil woman?"
"No." His breath shuddered out. "No, that's not what I think."
"No buts this time? No qualifications? Then I'll tell you that in my professional opinion, I couldn't agree with you more. He deserves everything he can grab, everything he can make, and everything we can give him to show him that he's his own person and not the damaged product of one vile woman. And neither are you, Ethan, anything but your own man. Stupid, maybe," she said with a smile as she rose. "But admirable, honorable, and incredibly kind."
She went to him, put an arm around his shoulders. When he sighed, turned his face to press it against her midriff, tears stung her eyes.
"I don't kno
w what to do."
"Yes, you do," she murmured. "Being you, you'll have to think about it for a while. But do yourself a favor this time, and think fast."
"I guess I'll go down to the boatyard and work until I get it clear in my head."
Because she was feeling suddenly maternal toward him, she bent and kissed the top of his head. "Do you want me to pack you some food?"
"No." He gave her a squeeze before he rose. When he saw that her eyes were damp, he patted her shoulder. "Don't cry. Cam'll have my head if he finds out I made you cry."
"I won't."
"Well, then." He started out, hesitated, then turned back briefly to study her as she stood in the kitchen, her lashes wet, her hair tangled from being out in the breeze. "Anna, my mother—my real mother," he added, because Stella Quinn was in his mind all that was real—"would have loved you."
Hell, Anna thought as he walked away, she was going to cry after all.
Ethan kept going, particularly when he heard Anna's sniffle. He needed to be alone, to clear out his head and let the thoughts gather again.
"Hey."
With his hand on the door, he looked over his shoulder and saw Seth on the stairs—where the boy had dashed like a skillful rabbit seconds before Ethan had started out of the kitchen.
"Hey what?"
Seth started down, slowly. He'd heard everything, every word. Even when his stomach had begun to pitch, he had stayed and listened. As he studied Ethan now, owlishly, he thought he understood. And he felt safe.
"Where you going?"
"Back to the boatyard. I got some things I want to finish up." Ethan let the door ease closed again. There was something in the boy's eyes, he thought. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Can I go out on the workboat with you tomorrow?"
"If you want."
"If I went with you, we'd finish sooner and be able to work on the boat with Cam. When Phil comes down on the weekend, we can all work on her together."