rare presence of his father, and then back at Liz. He looked very nervous, Liz thought. Nervous, and not at all the haughty young man he pretended to be.
“Andrew,” she said again. “It’s okay.”
“Zero degrees Kelvin,” he said quickly, his round eyes still glued on his father. “That’s...minus 273.15 degrees Celsius, or minus 459.7 degrees Fahrenheit.”
Richard nodded. “Very good,” he told Andrew, and the boy sat back with a quick, almost shy nod of acknowledgment. “And where did you learn this?”
But Andrew just sat there, staring with uncertain eyes at the man before him.
“He read it in the Almanac, ” Liz supplied after a bit. “It’s his newest choice in reading material. According to local legend, you, yourself, read the phone book at age three, something Andrew has taken very seriously.”
Once again Richard nodded his head. “So I did,” he said softly. “So I did.”
The lapse in conversation became awkward, and Liz searched to fill the void. “Andrew,” she said, “why don’t you ask your father about Geneva.”
But Andrew merely turned expectant eyes onto Richard, his mouth still tightly shut.
“I attended a conference of world scientists,” Richard said shortly. “We compared notes on some things, exchanged information on others. Really, it wasn’t anything exciting.”
Another lapse. Social graces obviously didn’t run in the family, Liz decided.
“And what project are you working on?” she asked presently.
“Capacitors.”
“Oh.” It appeared he wasn’t going to explain, so finally she gave up and asked, “What exactly is a capacitor?”
“Capacitors store energy in the form of an electric charge,” Andrew said suddenly. Both Richard and Liz looked at him in surprise.
“That’s right,” Richard said. “Capacitors store energy. For example, things like rechargeable shavers and batteries have them.”
Now both Richard and Andrew were staring at her with their blinking eyes. Miniatures, Liz thought abruptly. They looked like perfect opposites in their coloring and features, but in actual mannerisms, Andrew was a perfect miniature of his father, right down to the rapidly blinking eyes. Lord help her, she thought. She was having enough problems surviving one Keaton, let alone two.
“Perhaps Andy could visit you at your lab,” she suggested into the silence. Andrew immediately turned to Richard expectantly, and in that instant Liz feared she had made a grave mistake in even mentioning the idea. But then, after a long moment, Richard nodded slowly, and both she and Andrew breathed easier.
“That could be arranged,” Richard said quietly, and then, as if that was as much as he could take for one afternoon, he stood up quickly and dusted off his pants. “I have to go back to work,” he said curtly. “I will see you both later.”
“Perhaps for dinner,” Liz said.
“Perhaps.”
She nodded, watching him turn and walk away with speculative eyes. He moved gracefully, yet economically for such a large man. And his tailored slacks and shirt revealed a lean, powerful build. Come to think of it, she’d seen calluses on his hands—so how exactly did a man who supposedly locked himself in a lab all day come by such muscular tone and definition?
And what had brought the man who, just yesterday, had said he wanted nothing to do with his son, out here to join them on the blanket? She frowned, her eyes narrowing in thought. She had four brothers, she thought she knew a thing or two about the male species. And right now, she was sure there was more to Richard Keaton than met the eye. A lot more.
She would get to know him better, she thought determinedly, her head nodding unconsciously. Not for her sake, she told herself. But for Andrew’s.
Chapter 3
T he opportunity came as the clock struck midnight and she was curled in her favorite chair in the library. As the cavernous room had a habit of growing chilly at night, she had lit a small fire in the
“Andrew,” she said again. “It’s okay.”
“Zero degrees Kelvin,” he said quickly, his round eyes still glued on his father. “That’s...minus 273.15 degrees Celsius, or minus 459.7 degrees Fahrenheit.”
Richard nodded. “Very good,” he told Andrew, and the boy sat back with a quick, almost shy nod of acknowledgment. “And where did you learn this?”
But Andrew just sat there, staring with uncertain eyes at the man before him.
“He read it in the Almanac, ” Liz supplied after a bit. “It’s his newest choice in reading material. According to local legend, you, yourself, read the phone book at age three, something Andrew has taken very seriously.”
Once again Richard nodded his head. “So I did,” he said softly. “So I did.”
The lapse in conversation became awkward, and Liz searched to fill the void. “Andrew,” she said, “why don’t you ask your father about Geneva.”
But Andrew merely turned expectant eyes onto Richard, his mouth still tightly shut.
“I attended a conference of world scientists,” Richard said shortly. “We compared notes on some things, exchanged information on others. Really, it wasn’t anything exciting.”
Another lapse. Social graces obviously didn’t run in the family, Liz decided.
“And what project are you working on?” she asked presently.
“Capacitors.”
“Oh.” It appeared he wasn’t going to explain, so finally she gave up and asked, “What exactly is a capacitor?”
“Capacitors store energy in the form of an electric charge,” Andrew said suddenly. Both Richard and Liz looked at him in surprise.
“That’s right,” Richard said. “Capacitors store energy. For example, things like rechargeable shavers and batteries have them.”
Now both Richard and Andrew were staring at her with their blinking eyes. Miniatures, Liz thought abruptly. They looked like perfect opposites in their coloring and features, but in actual mannerisms, Andrew was a perfect miniature of his father, right down to the rapidly blinking eyes. Lord help her, she thought. She was having enough problems surviving one Keaton, let alone two.
“Perhaps Andy could visit you at your lab,” she suggested into the silence. Andrew immediately turned to Richard expectantly, and in that instant Liz feared she had made a grave mistake in even mentioning the idea. But then, after a long moment, Richard nodded slowly, and both she and Andrew breathed easier.
“That could be arranged,” Richard said quietly, and then, as if that was as much as he could take for one afternoon, he stood up quickly and dusted off his pants. “I have to go back to work,” he said curtly. “I will see you both later.”
“Perhaps for dinner,” Liz said.
“Perhaps.”
She nodded, watching him turn and walk away with speculative eyes. He moved gracefully, yet economically for such a large man. And his tailored slacks and shirt revealed a lean, powerful build. Come to think of it, she’d seen calluses on his hands—so how exactly did a man who supposedly locked himself in a lab all day come by such muscular tone and definition?
And what had brought the man who, just yesterday, had said he wanted nothing to do with his son, out here to join them on the blanket? She frowned, her eyes narrowing in thought. She had four brothers, she thought she knew a thing or two about the male species. And right now, she was sure there was more to Richard Keaton than met the eye. A lot more.
She would get to know him better, she thought determinedly, her head nodding unconsciously. Not for her sake, she told herself. But for Andrew’s.
Chapter 3
T he opportunity came as the clock struck midnight and she was curled in her favorite chair in the library. As the cavernous room had a habit of growing chilly at night, she had lit a small fire in the
Similar Books
