Carly Phillips - Hot Stuff

Vaughn made her want on so many different levels she couldn't name them all. He also knew how to withhold, thereby deepening her yearning. His parents had taught him not to count on anyone and to withdraw when things were tough. She hadn't had parents to teach her a damn thing.

She wondered where that left them now.

AFTER LEAVING THE LODGE, Annabelle stopped at Vaughn's to pick up Boris. She placed him in his carrier and headed for town. Now that she had her car, she also had the freedom to explore and she took advantage.

She passed the high school and its legendary football field, since renamed Brandon Vaughn field. She drove by Vaughn's parents' house and was struck by the fairy-tale quality of the house and its surroundings, the white picket fence, daisies blooming all around and the veranda with a porch swing built for two. How could two people, two parents, live in such a perfect place to raise a child and turn his life into an unhappy, unhealthy nightmare? She wondered sadly.

Instead of making a right turn, which would take her directly into town, she drove the long way around the outskirts just so she could pass Vaughn's present residence. The house he'd purchased so he could have peace, quiet and space. But the house gave him none of those things and merely reinforced all that was lacking in his life-unlike the warmth of the lodge, which filled at least a portion of the aching emptiness he had deep inside.

She thought she understood him a little better now. The desire to keep himself apart from the family that hurt him had led him to buy on the outskirts of town. The neverending hope that those parents would come around kept him from making his home somewhere far away. But he'd chosen the most unwelcome home he could find and had done nothing to make it warmer. Not, she suspected, because he didn't know how, but because never having experienced love, he was too afraid to embrace it. She pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket, no closer to figuring out how or if Vaughn would ever come around.

Before she'd barely stepped out of the car she heard someone call her name. She glanced over her shoulder, shocked when she realized Estelle Vaughn was waving and striding toward her, a welcoming smile on her face.

"Looks like things are about to get interesting," she whispered to Boris whose head stuck out of the carrier so he could look around.

"Miss, um…Annabelle, I'd like to have a word with you."

Annabelle turned and waited for the other woman to walk over. "What can I do for you?" she asked Vaughn's mother.

"Would you like to get a cup of coffee?" she asked, taking Annabelle by surprise. "There's a place just around the corner. My treat."

She added the last quickly, as if she was afraid Annabelle had been about to say no.

"I suppose food shopping can wait." She treated his mother to a welcoming smile, hoping to ease her obvious discomfort. "I hope you don't mind Boris here." She swung around to show the dog's sweet face.

"Oh! Well, no. Not at all." She reached out tentatively.

"Go on. He doesn't bite."

Mrs. Vaughn patted Boris on the head and he responded by attempting to crawl out of his carrier.

"Stay," Annabelle said.

Five minutes later, she found herself seated in Cozy Cups across from Estelle, as she'd asked Annabelle to call her. Joanne was obviously attempting to listen shamelessly but incoming customers kept her too busy to remain near their back table.

Annabelle wrapped her hand around the frozen Macchiato she'd ordered and waited to hear what Estelle had to say, but the other woman merely sat and unnecessarily stirred her coffee, staring into the dark liquid.

Annabelle decided she had no choice but to break the ice and begin conversation. "Nice weather we're having," she murmured politely.

"Is Brandon okay?" Estelle asked right after. "I woke up this morning and heard the news of the fire. I've been trying to reach him all morning. Nobody's picking up the phone at the lodge and I've left half a dozen messages on his answering machine at home. I've been worried sick and so has his father."

You see, Annabelle silently said to Boris. I told you this was going to be interesting.

"He's fine. In fact he was nowhere near the fire because he was in New York City at my firm's party last night," she assured Vaughn's mother.

"Oh thank goodness." She looked visibly relieved, her shoulders relaxing and her tension easing a bit.

"If it makes you feel any better, I doubt Vaughn's been home much since last night and the lines are down at the lodge. The phone company hopes to have things up and running by tomorrow at the latest." Though Annabelle doubted Vaughn would any effort to return his parents' calls regardless.

The other woman nodded, obviously grateful for any information.

"Have you tried his cell?" Annabelle asked.

Estelle shook her head. "I don't have the number." Obviously embarrassed, she didn't meet Annabelle's gaze.

Annabelle poked her straw into the creamy liquid in front of her while she tried to figure out how much to pry into Vaughn and his parents' relationship. Since his mother had sought Annabelle out, she decided to dig deeper than she probably should,

"Pardon me for commenting on something so personal, but it seems to me you care about Vaughn lot more than you let on."

"Of course I care!" Estelle said. "He's my child.”

"Then why not show it?" Annabelle couldn't help but challenge Estelle's assertion, but she softened the blow with a personal revelation of her own. "My parents died when I was twelve," she began.

"How awful!" Estelle patted Annabelle's hand awkwardly, then withdrew her touch.

Obviously maternal caring wasn't her forte. Annabelle wondered if she even realized her shortcomings.

"I'd have given anything to have my parents around while I was growing up," she continued. "Instead I had my Uncle Yank and Lola, two people who did their best to compensate for my loss and give my sisters and I lots of love and attention."

Estelle's eyes brightened with curiosity. "You have sisters?"

"Two. We're all very close."

"Theodore and I couldn't have any more kids after Brandon." Estelle's voice dropped to a whisper.

Annabelle wasn't sure whether to offer condolences or thanks that they couldn't subject another child to neglect the way they'd done to Vaughn.

"I'm not used to explaining myself to anyone, but you seem genuinely fond of Brandon and for that reason, I'm going to try."

"I do care about your son."

Estelle drew a deep breath before beginning to talk. "I'm not sure if you know this but I'm what you'd call from the wrong side of the tracks. My father ran off and my mother cleaned homes for a living. When I met Brandon's father he was studying to be a professor. Imagine my shock that he fell in love with me! I was so grateful I promised myself I'd do everything I could to support him and make certain he succeeded."

"Because if he succeeded, you succeeded," Annabelle guessed without much difficulty,

"Exactly. With Theodore I have respectability, a solid home, and the love of a good man. Everything I was denied growing up."

Annabelle noticed she didn't mention a loving family or a wonderful son but she refrained from commenting.

"Then Brandon was born and he was the most wonderful child." Love sparkled in her eyes at the memory.

"Until he started school?" Annabelle guessed.

Estelle blushed and at least had the grace to look ashamed. "I didn't know anything about dyslexia or learning disabilities. The teachers said he was antsy, that he didn't pay attention. As he got older, his grades were poor."

"And he was a disappointment to his father." Annabelle pushed aside her cup. The sweet drink would only make her feel sicker.