Impossible

“You probably can't,” Xavier said sensibly, and then looked at Liam. “What's with the wacky artist thing? If you want to do that, why would you want to go to those parties? Personally, I'd pay her money not to take me. I hate them.”

“So do I. I just don't want to be left home like a four-year-old, or be told how to behave when I get there.”

“What difference does it make if she takes you? You're one of her artists, Liam. Not her husband. My father didn't love going to them either. He said most of her important clients bored him to tears. He got out of going to those parties every chance he got.” Sasha smiled at the comment and Liam looked pensive. “You sound like a jealous lover,” Xavier chided, still not understanding what had happened, for which Sasha was profoundly grateful.

“Or a spoiled brat,” Sasha added. “I told him you can't behave like a goofball if you go to those parties. He informed me that he'd behave any way he wanted. End of story.” End of romance. But thank God Xavier didn't know that. From what Liam was saying, Sasha was amazed her son didn't suspect it. It had never occurred to him for a single second that his friend might have slept with his mother. She turned to Liam then, and reminded him of what she'd said two months earlier. “Anytime you want to dress and act like a grown-up, you're welcome to come to anything with me. In the meantime …” Her voice drifted off, and Liam rolled his eyes.

“You sound like my father.” He looked angry at her again, which surprised Xavier. His mother was right. Liam was being childish and bratty, and he didn't always side with his mother, but this time he felt he had to.

“You were a kid then,” Xavier reminded him. “You're an adult now. You just turned forty. Hell, that's fucking ancient …” And then he glanced at Sasha. “Sorry, Mother.”

“Not at all. It's not fucking ancient, but it's old enough not to have a tantrum about a party.”

“My father and brothers never took me anywhere. My father called me a freak, and my brothers said I was a weirdo. I was always an outcast. That's why I left San Francisco. I just got tired of it. I'm never going to let anyone treat me that way again.”

“You probably were a weirdo,” Xavier said with a look of amusement. Watching Liam, and the look in his eyes, Sasha felt suddenly more sympathetic. She had obviously tapped into some serious wounds from his childhood. And he had had no mother to protect or defend him from his father and brothers' insensitivity and cruelty. Looking at him, she suddenly wanted to put her arms around him, but she couldn't. “You still are a weirdo sometimes,” Xavier said, and Liam smiled. “Hell, what do you expect? You're an artist. I'm weird, too. It's a sign of greatness and talent. I like being a weirdo, so do you. And you couldn't get me to one of those parties if you paid me.”

“I just felt left out, I guess. It was like the old days when I was a kid. I guess it hit a nerve. I was being told I couldn't go somewhere unless I acted like someone I wasn't. Maybe it was old tapes in my head that made me crazy, and not your mother.” Liam glanced at Sasha anxiously, and wanted to apologize to her, but he couldn't. Their eyes met and held for a long moment. And miraculously, Xavier missed it.

“Shit, man, you were only a houseguest. She probably couldn't take you to the party anyway.”

“No, I couldn't,” Sasha added. “The argument was more about theory, and freedom of behavior.”

“And control,” Liam added. “When people insult me like that, it just makes me crazy. I was always left out as a kid, like I wasn't related to them or something, or good enough to be one of them. They were always trying to control me and make me behave the way they wanted, and I just couldn't.” It went even deeper than that, Sasha realized. It was about having lost the protection and unconditional love of his mother at seven. That's who she had been dealing with that night, a seven-year-old boy who had lost his mother. It suddenly explained a lot of things to her, and the immature behavior she'd seen in Paris. Her heart went out to him as she sat there listening to him.