Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [16]
If she had been the one Michael wanted, she'd have married him the day after he asked. Not that he'd ever noticed her in that way. She was just the kid sister, the short brunette, the flaky one, who served up shrimp Cocktails and clam chowder in bread bowls all day long. Julia was prettier and far more interesting with her passion for music and her job at the radio Station. There was no way Liz could compete with her. Although she did have bigger breasts. It was a small distinction, but one she was happy to make.
A loud clatter made her turn her head just in time to see her father, a tall, normally nimble man, stumble into a table and chairs. Her aunt Rita pushed him down into the chair and told him she'd bring him some coffee. Liz frowned. He was drinking so much lately. He'd always loved his red wine, but now it was vodka and scotch and lots of it.
Gino rested his head in his hands. He'd developed prominent streaks of gray in his black hair in the past year. His cheeks were pale and he was far too thin. Liz got up and walked over to him. "Daddy, are you okay?' "Fm fine," he said, lifting his head. He offered her a dazed, drunken smile. "You're a good girl, Lizzie."
"You should eat something. Have you had any food?"
"I'm not hungry. I think we need another toast. To my daughter and her fiance." He looked around. "Where's Julia?"
"She's outside talking to a friend. You can toast her later."
"Lucia, we must have Champagne," Gino yelled across the room. "We must drink to Michael and Julia."
"Dad, please. Just have some coffee." Liz sent Aunt Rita a grateful look when she brought over a mug of hot coffee. "Here you go."
He waved a hand in disgust. "I don't want coffee. I want Champagne. This is a party."
"You're embarrassing your daughter," Rita said sharply. "Drink the coffee, Gino."
He pushed it away, got to his feet, and staggered across the room to the bar. Liz knew she should probably go after him, but dammit, she was tired of chasing him. It was Julia's turn. She glanced across the room and saw that Michael was still staring out the window.
Maybe she couldn't set her father straight, but she could do something about Michael and Julia. She walked over to him and said, "If you're not going to get her, I will."
Michael grabbed her arm as she moved toward the door. "Stay out of it, Lizzie."
"Excuse me?"
"I want her to come in on her own."
"I don't care how she comes in. My dad is drinking himself to death over at the bar, and she needs to help me get him out of here."
"Your uncle is taking care of Gino," Michael said, tipping his head toward the far side of the room. Gino was now sitting down in a booth with her uncle and a pot of coffee.
She felt marginally better seeing them together. "He's really got me worried," she confessed. "He's like a lost soul right now, completely adrift. My mom took care of him. She did everything, the cooking, the cleaning, the house. She paid the bills. She even did the books here at the restaurant. I don't know how he gets through the days without her. Actually, he's barely getting through the days." She shook her head, feeling helpless.
"You worry too much about your family," Michael said, putting a reassuring hand on her Shoulder. "But I understand. I'm the same way."
Liz nodded. It was nice to have someone who understood. "Let's sit down. Yesterday you said you had something to tell me, and I still haven't heard what that something is."
"That's right," Michael muttered, as he pulled out a chair, joining her at the table. "Now I think I may have jumped the gun."
"About what?" she asked.
He hesitated for a long moment, then offered her a sheepish smile. "I bought a house."
"You did what?" She couldn't have heard him right.