Vicki narrowed her eyes, in no doubt as to why Lara had called. It was the same reason why any of his family ever called. She was acquainted with all three members-Caleb had never hidden his roots. Before they'd married, he'd taken her to the run-down neighborhood where he'd grown up and introduced her to his family and friends.
She knew that Max was a sculptor and Caleb's mother, Carmen, a poet. Unfortunately, neither had achieved professional success. To Victoria, Max and Carmen had always seemed sanctimonious in their assertions that they were sacrificing for their art. What they'd sacrificed was their children's welfare. Caleb rarely talked about his growing-up years, but from what he had let slip, she'd guessed that he'd sometimes gone hungry.
Unlike Caleb, his sister, Lara, hadn't left the family fold. A struggling singer with two kids by two different men, she'd never wavered from her belief that her parents' way-poverty and suffering as the only path to creative genius-was the right way.
"What did she want?" Vicki asked when Caleb hung up the phone and came to stand beside her.
He sighed, staring blindly into space. "What she always wants. Money. Since I sold out to the capitalist regime, the least I can do is help her out now and then." His tone was flat, as if the call had drained all emotion from him.
Vicki recognized the familiar refrain. She'd heard it enough times from Lara's own mouth. Previously, Vicki had remained silent, reasoning that she had no business interfering with Caleb and his family. Now, seeing the pain revealed by her husband's bowed head, she decided it was very much her business.
Turning slightly, she pushed at his chest until he looked at her. "Why do you let them treat you this way?" Instinct told her there was something fundamental she didn't know. The political rhetoric the Callaghans spewed simply couldn't explain the antipathy Vicki sometimes felt emanating from them toward Caleb. What wasn't he telling her?
She knew she didn't yet have the right to push for that information. They'd barely started talking about repairing the fissures in their marriage. Until those wounds had healed, she had to tread softly. But it didn't mean she had to remain silent.
He shrugged. "They're my family."
"No," she said. "They abandoned you when you dared to be different." She knew he'd left home at sixteen and scraped by on his own, working multiple jobs while going to school. His parents had kicked him out when he'd dared argue with them about what he wanted from life. "They've never been there for you."
A bleak look appeared in his eyes. "They're all I've got."
She shook her head, furious at them for always causing him such pain. "We're your family, Caleb. Me and our baby."
"But you might be divorcing me." It wasn't a challenge but a reminder of their precarious situation. Before he could blink it away, she glimpsed an incredible anguish that had nothing to do with Lara or his parents and everything to do with her.
A crushing knot formed in her heart. God, but the man was proud. Proud and stubborn. Not once in those two months of separation had he ever hinted at the depth of his pain at the way she'd asked him to leave. Then again, neither had she ever told him how badly he'd hurt her when he'd taken Miranda to his bed. They were both too good at keeping their emotional secrets.
But that, she thought with a new spurt of determination, was in the past. It was the future that was important-a future built on trust, shared burdens and hope. Maybe asking for a separation had been the only way she'd known to get him to pay attention to their marriage, to her, but they'd gone beyond that now.
This was it. Time for action. Despite her fear that she'd do the wrong thing and their truce would go bad all over again, she nonetheless shook her head. "No. I'm not. I told you I want to be married to you. You're my husband, my family. I don't have anyone else, either."
He hauled her into a tight hug, saying with his body what he couldn't say in words. For so long, he'd spoken with his body but she hadn't been listening, hadn't known how to listen, but now she intended to hear every single whisper.
"It's Lara's kids I worry about. She can look after herself but what about them?"
Vicki had always been swayed by the same thought. "How about a trust fund? For education and anything else the kids might need. Your family doesn't get to treat you like an open checkbook anymore." It wasn't the money that made her mad, but the way they acted as if it was Caleb's duty to support them while putting up with their ingratitude.
She'd never been able to understand why her tough, powerful husband let them get away with it. She knew that taking care of Lara's children wouldn't even scratch at the surface of Caleb's problems with his family, or tell her anything of the reasons behind the way they treated him. But it was a start.
Caleb was silent for a moment. "If we were the trustees, we could ensure the money was used how it was meant to be."
Neither of them had to mention their fears that Lara might have succumbed to drugs. But, so far, she'd never harmed her kids, apparently being a devoted mother.
"Yes," Vicki agreed, then decided to say something that had been bubbling up inside of her for quite some time. "Don't you dare let them make you feel bad because you dreamed higher than they have the capacity to imagine. Be proud." The Callaghans' motivations made no difference to her. In her book, nothing could excuse the neglect and pain Caleb had suffered because of them.
His chin dropped to rest on top of her head. "They'll always be in my life."
"And I'll never try to push them out. We both have relations we have to deal with though we'd rather not. But they have to learn to treat you with the proper respect." She refused to back off on this. Too many times in their marriage, she'd stayed silent and it had torn them apart. However, that particular dam had broken forever when she'd walked into Caleb's room and bared her soul. "Next time one of them calls, I'll take it. This is the last chance they'll ever have to hurt you."
Caleb was astounded by the cold fury he could hear in her voice. Vicki had always been so gentle, so non-confrontational. But beyond his surprise was the glow of hope. She was right. He was holding his real family in his arms. Maybe their marriage was rocky but they'd made a promise to see it through. The lack of ambivalence in Vicki's comments gave him back the sense of stability he'd lost the moment she'd demanded a divorce.
"I want to ask you something," he said, reminded of it by his thoughts of the cool, non-combative woman he'd married. A woman in whom he'd seen embers of passion-embers that their marriage had stifled instead of nurtured.
"What?" Vibrant life in that single word.
A little of his guilt receded. "What did your grandmother tell you when she invited me to that dinner party where she introduced us?" Lately, he'd begun to wonder if Ada had lied to get Vicki to trust him enough to let him court her. How else could he explain her faith in him from the very start? Especially when his no-holds-barred personality must have been immediately obvious.
Laughing, she tipped her head back to meet his gaze. "She said she'd found the perfect man for me. He'd keep me in line because I'd need a strong hand to ensure I didn't turn out like my mother. Oh, and he'd make sure I was taken care of."
He winced, his theory in ruins. That was hardly likely to get a woman to trust a man. "Did she force you-"
"I fell for you about ten seconds after you started talking to me. She saw a man who'd use his strength to crush. I saw someone who'd use it to protect." She smiled. "You had so much energy, so much heart that you made me feel truly alive for the first time. I couldn't bear to return to the life I had before I met you."
Despite his decision to be honest, Caleb couldn't bring himself to ask the question that continued to haunt him. What about now? Did the woman she'd become trust him as that vulnerable girl had? Or had that love crumbled after years of being trapped in a marriage that made her desperately unhappy?
Instead of asking questions that might destroy him, he joked, "I'm glad because once I saw you, that was it."
"Good." Her laughter was a gift. After hugging him tightly once more, she pulled away. "Come on, let's eat. I'm starving-our baby is a hungry little thing."
"What does it feel like?" he asked, curious.