Building Dreams. Ginna Gray

that after their talk Mrs. Benson had realized she was wasting her time buttering up Mike and had dropped him like a hot potato.

      He hated to see the boy so depressed, but Ryan figured he would get over it soon. In a day or two he’d be enthused about something else and forget all about their new neighbor.

      However, when Ryan entered the apartment on Friday evening, far from improved, Mike’s mood had worsened. Sprawled in a chair with one leg hooked over the arm, he stared morosely at the television screen. In response to his father’s greeting he mumbled something but barely spared him a glance.

      “Hey, what is this? Why the long face? Cheer up, son. Things can’t be that bad,” Ryan teased, tweaking the toe of Mike’s sneaker.

      “Oh, yeah? That’s what you think.”

      “So what’s the problem?” The question brought no response, and Ryan nudged him again. “C’mon, you know you can tell me.”

      Mike grimaced, but finally he shot his dad a sulky look. “I don’t think Tess likes me anymore. She doesn’t return my calls. She doesn’t answer her door. I think she’s avoiding me.”

      Ryan’s lips thinned. Impatience rippled through him and edged his voice. “It that all? So what? Forget about her.”

      He turned away, flipping through the mail. It contained nothing of importance so he tossed it onto his desk and sat down in his easy chair. Picking up the evening newspaper, he glanced at his son, again. To his surprise, Mike was watching him, his eyes narrowed and filled with suspicion.

      “Have you eaten?” Ryan asked.

      “Yeah. I had some frozen egg rolls.”

      “Good.” He snapped open the paper and tried to ignore his son’s penetrating stare.

      “Dad, do you know why Tess is acting strange?”

      “How the hell would I know?” Ryan barked, his conscience stabbing him.

      “You didn’t talk to her or anything?”

      “Look, Mike. Why are you making such a big deal about this woman? She’s nothing to us.”

      “The change in her was real quick,” Mike mused, ignoring his father’s question. “Like maybe somebody did something to upset her.”

      “So? Women get upset easily.” Ryan shifted in the chair and snapped the newspaper again, scowling at the printed page without seeing a word.

      Mike sat forward, his eyes widening. “You did talk to her, didn’t you?”

      Faced with a direct challenge, Ryan could not lie. He was always honest with his son. But he resented being cornered. Why couldn’t Mike just let the whole thing drop? “All right, yeah, I talked to her,” he replied belligerently. “So what?”

      “When? What did you say to her?”

      “She called and invited us over for dinner. I turned down the invitation.”

      “But why?” Mike wailed.

      Rarely did Ryan lose his temper with his son, but the anguished question pushed him over the edge. “Dammit, Mike, you know why. I will not be manipulated by some man-hungry female. What’s more, I resent the way the woman has been cozying up to you to get to me.”

      Mike leaped out of his chair. His gangly body vibrated with outrage. “Tess wouldn’t do that!” he shouted. “Anyway, she’s not interested in you!”

      “Don’t kid yourself. All women are on the make for a man. Or maybe I should say, a breadwinner.”

      “Not Tess. That’s just plain stupid. You don’t even know her. You don’t know anything about her! She’s nice, and…and…and she’s special! And now she probably won’t ever speak to me again! And it’s all your fault!” he shouted, and bolted for his room.

      “Mike! Mike, come back here!” Ryan called after him, springing up out of his chair. He could have saved his breath. Mike’s door slammed with a force that rattled the walls.

      “Damn.” Spinning around, Ryan slammed his fist down on the back of the chair.

      He paced back and forth across the room. This was all that damned Benson woman’s fault. He and Mike had never had a serious disagreement until now.

      Why was his son so taken with her? What the hell was so special about the woman?

      Ryan stopped and glanced toward the bedrooms. Mike might be innocent enough to believe she had no interest in him beyond simple neighborliness, but experience had taught him otherwise. Ever since Julia had walked out on him and Mike, women had been pursuing him like hounds after a fox. Strangely, it seemed that the more he tried to discourage them, the more remote and abrupt he was, the more relentless they were. And the more devious their ploys. Tess Benson certainly wasn’t the first woman who had tried to use Mike to attract his interest.

      Ryan sat down on the sofa. Slumping forward, he braced his elbows on his spread knees and massaged his temples. He sighed. Maybe Reilly was right. Maybe Mike did need a mother figure in his life. That gentling, nurturing female influence that he and his brothers and sister had grown up with.

      Guiltily, Ryan recalled the wistful look that sometimes came over Mike’s face when he talked about a friend’s mom. On those occasions Ryan had always stifled his twinges of conscience and told himself that they were doing just fine on their own. But were they? Was Mike?

      Yes, dammit! Ryan shot up off the sofa and began to pace. Mike was bright and happy and well adjusted. He was doing well in school; he had plenty of friends. Just because no woman played an active role in his life that didn’t mean he was deprived. He could even be better off. God knew, some women were wretched mothers. Julia certainly had been.

      He wanted to forbid Mike to have anything more to do with Tess Benson, but he knew that would not be wise. Mike was at a touchy age. Ryan didn’t want to push him into rebellion. No, the best thing he could do was wait it out. It might take time, but eventually Mike would get over his infatuation with their new neighbor.

      At breakfast the next morning the atmosphere between the two McCall males was frosty. Mike responded to his father’s pleasant “Good morning” with a curt nod and skirted around him in the small kitchen as though he weren’t there, his young face stiff. Ryan’s question about what Mike wanted to eat was met with an abrupt, “Never mind. I’ll get it myself.”

      After five minutes of sitting side by side at the breakfast bar, eating their cereal in stony silence, Ryan had had enough.

      “This is ridiculous,” he snapped. “We have to talk about this, Mike.”

      Mike merely shrugged and kept on spooning cereal into his mouth.

      “Look, son,” he said as patiently as he could manage. “You know how I feel about women. You’ve always known. But, hey! Just because I don’t want to be around Mrs. Benson doesn’t mean you can’t be friends with her.”

      Mike cut his eyes toward his father, his expression still sullen. “You hurt her feelings. Now she doesn’t want to be friends with me.”

      “Well then, I guess you’ll just have to try harder. Look, tell her I said it was all right.”

      Mike grimaced and stared at his cereal bowl.

      “C’mon, son.” Ryan cuffed him on the shoulder. “Whaddaya say?”

      Dramatically rolling his eyes, the boy heaved a sigh. “O-kay,” he agreed finally, in a put-upon voice that only a teenager can achieve.

      “Good. So, how about it? Are we friends again?”

      Mike shot him another sharp look. Ryan could see that he was struggling to hold on to his rancor, but Mike’s basic good nature never allowed him to stay angry for long. In that respect he was far more like his Uncle Reilly than his father. Ryan’s twin was unfailingly, at times maddeningly, good-natured