‘You don’t fly back to LA till Sunday week,’ she pointed out firmly. ‘That’s two whole weeks away. You can’t put up with a toothache for that long. Now, don’t be such a baby, Luke. Lord, I know you hated the dentist when you were a boy, but you’re a grown man now.
‘Fancy!’ She tut-tutted, well aware that nothing prodded a man into action more quickly than a jab at his male ego. ‘Thirty-two and still scared of the dentist.’
‘I’m not scared of the dentist,’ he shot back testily, all smiles abandoned. ‘I simply don’t like being in that damned chair. I detest how it makes you feel, sitting there. Totally out of control and at someone else’s mercy!’
Grace glanced at the stubborn set of her youngest son’s jaw and thought, Yes, you’d hate that, wouldn’t you? You’ve always wanted to run your own race—always resented being pushed into corners. No one could ever make you do something you didn’t want to do, or dissuade you from doing something you did want to do.
Still, Grace had to admit that she admired Luke’s tunnel vision and tenacity. He’d dared to do what others had only dreamt about. He’d followed his dreams and made them come true. At least professionally speaking. Privately, his life hadn’t been so successful. She wondered what had happened to that young actress he’d been living with a couple of years back. Luke’s letters had indicated that marriage was imminent, but then suddenly nothing.
Grace would never forget how grim he had looked when he’d flown home a couple of months later. And how bitter he’d become about women. He hadn’t confided in her, of course. Boys gave up confiding in their mothers at around the same time they discovered the opposite sex. With Luke that had been a good twenty years ago.
But his being his own man didn’t stop her being his mother, and wanting to do mother-type things for him.
‘Going to the dentist is not as bad as it used to be,’ she argued reasonably. ‘The new drills are practically painfree, and they have that gas which helps a lot if you’re the tense type.’
‘They still stuff sixty million wads of cotton wool in your mouth so that you can’t speak properly,’ Luke returned irritably. ‘Then there’s that damned hook thing, which makes the most appalling sucking noises—not to mention the way it drags the corner of your mouth down so that you look like some mutant from Mars.’
Grace chuckled. ‘So that’s the root of the problem. You simply don’t want to look less than your gorgeous best for Dr Evans’s pretty little dental nurse.’
Luke’s left eyebrow lifted with a mildly sardonic interest. ‘Does Dr Evans have a pretty little dental nurse?’
‘He did the last time I went. Goodness, if I’d known I’d have mentioned her earlier. So you’ve still got a weakness for pretty women, have you?’
His glance was sharp, confirming Grace’s opinion that some pretty woman had hurt her son once—hurt him badly. She wondered if it had been the actress.
‘I’ve moved on from pretty to gorgeous these days,’ he said drily.
‘And is there one particular gorgeous girl in your life I should know about?’ Grace asked.
‘Nope.’
It was a bit like pulling teeth, Grace thought, trying to get information out of Luke. ‘What happened to that Tracy girl you used to write me about?’ she persisted. ‘It sounded like you were going to marry her at one stage.’
‘I was. But in the end she decided to embrace her acting career rather than yours truly,’ came his coldly caustic remark.
‘Why did she have to make a choice? I thought American girls tried to have it all. Marriage and children, and a career.’
Luke’s laugh was hard. ‘Don’t go believing those sitcoms you see on television, Mum. That’s fantasy-land. Tracy didn’t mind the marriage bit. She quite fancied being Mrs Luke St Clair. But she drew the line at babies, and at least she was honest enough to say so up front. I didn’t see the point in marriage without children, so we called it quits.’
‘And rightly so. Marriage without children for you would be a disaster. You’d make a great father.’
He seemed taken aback, throwing her a surprised look. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Oh, Luke, don’t be silly. I’m your mother. I know these things.’
‘Aah. Feminine instinct, is it?’
‘Maternal instinct. And paternal example. Your father was a great father. His sons take after him in that regard.’
‘Well, that’s too bad, because I’m afraid I don’t see myself marrying now, let alone having kiddies.’
‘You really loved Tracy that much?’
‘Good God, no! I’m well and truly over that ambitious little bitch.’
‘Then what is it, Luke?’ she asked, genuinely confused. ‘You’re only thirty-two. You’ve still plenty of time to get married and have a family.’
An awkward silence descended on the kitchen while Luke rubbed his jaw and frowned darkly.
‘Who is she?’ Grace said abruptly. ‘Another actress?’
Exasperation sent dangerous lights glittering in his deeply set black eyes. ‘This is exactly why I don’t tell you anything, Mum,’ he bit out. ‘Before I know it, I’m getting the third degree. Let’s drop the subject of women all round, shall we? I’ve come home for a nice, relaxing holiday—not to face a modern version of the Spanish Inquisition!’
‘I only have your best interests at heart,’ Grace defended herself. ‘I only want you to be happy—like Mark and Andy.’
Luke glared at her for a moment longer, before a rueful smile smoothed the frustration from his face. Walking over, he took his mother into his arms and gave her a big hug.
‘I am not unhappy, Mum,’ he said. ‘Hell, what have I got to be unhappy about? Other than this damned tooth, of course,’ he added, grimacing.
Grace could see that she wasn’t going to get any more out of him about his love life. But she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily where the dentist was concerned.
‘In that case I’m not going to take any more nonsense from you,’ she said staunchly. ‘I’m going to ring up and make you an appointment at the dentist. If I say it’s an emergency they’re sure to fit you in some time this morning. I’ll drive you down to the surgery myself. I’ve got some shopping to do and I can do it while you’re in there.’
‘Oh, all right,’ Luke grumbled. ‘I can see you’re determined, and if there’s one thing I know about my mother it’s that she can’t be swayed once she sets her mind on something. You’re as stubborn as a mule!’
Takes one to know one, Grace thought wryly as she left the room and made her way to the telephone.
Ten o’clock found Luke in the passenger side of his mother’s battered old blue sedan, feeling rather ambivalent about where they were going. He’d lied to his mother when he’d said that he wasn’t afraid of the dentist. He was.
But thirty-two-year-old men couldn’t admit to such failings. They couldn’t admit to anything which other people might jump on and make fun of, which men might use against them or—worse—which women might look down upon.
Being a real man was a bloody lonely business sometimes, Luke conceded drily to himself. Real men didn’t moan or groan. Or enter therapy. They certainly didn’t cry on their mother’s shoulders.
Hell, no! A real man looked life straight in the eye and didn’t blink an eyelid in the face of