The Family Feud: The Family Feud / Stop The Wedding?!. Carol Finch
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that duty fell to Jan. It seemed she’d played mediator in minor family skirmishes all her life. While living with a stubborn father and a flighty, emotional mother and younger sister, someone had to be the stabilizing force. Maybe that’s why Jan had ended up as a troubleshooter for the corporate firm in Tulsa. She’d been troubleshooting problems for her family for years.
“Well, it’s your own fault for landing in the middle of this mess,” Jan chastised herself halfway across the yellow brick road. She’d always had a weakness when it came to her family. By nature she had an overwhelming tendency to fix things—hence her job at Delacort Industries.
The moment Sylvia called—wailing on and on about John storming off and camping out in his brand spanking new Winnebago camper that was parked at Price Farm—Jan had dropped what she’d been doing and come to save the day. Never mind that her younger sister Kendra lived here in Oz, managed the travel agency and should’ve handled the situation. However, Kendra possessed Sylvia’s temperamental nature and was prone to panic first and then seek help from someone else, rather than solve the crisis herself.
Jan never had a flair for the dramatic—like Sylvia and Kendra, thank goodness. She prided herself in being calm, collected, organized and reliable in difficult situations. And so, here she was, back in the Land of Oz, hell-bent on mending family fences. Of course, Kendra couldn’t be bothered because she was planning her wedding and had last-minute arrangements to make before the grand affair in less than a month.
Discarding her unproductive thoughts, Jan pushed open the door at the hardware store. A small electronic device overhead played: “We’re Off To See The Wizard.” Jan stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes popped when she spotted her father, wearing a trendy red polo shirt and cargo pants that had more pockets than Captain Kangaroo’s. Even worse, her father could’ve been the poster model for Grecian Formula hair coloring. There wasn’t a gray hair on his dark head and he’d used some kind of gel that made his hair shiny and stiff. Why was he trying to recapture his youth? He looked ridiculous!
“Daddy?” Jan croaked in disbelief.
John whipped around so fast that he knocked one of the paper sacks off the counter. Hinges skidded across the tiled floor. Hurriedly, he scooped them up and crammed them in the sack. “Hi, hon. I knew your mother would call you. I’m surprised that you didn’t show up a month ago.”
Jan strode down the aisle to give her father a greeting hug and peck on the cheek. “I only found out about this separation yesterday. Why didn’t you call and tell me what was going on? I’d have been here sooner.”
“You have your own life,” John insisted. “I guess your mother decided to give me a month to come to my senses before she called you in. She’s been treating me like I’m sixteen since the day I retired from teaching and I’m getting damned sick and tired of it.”
Jan stared pointedly at John’s youthful clothes, the new gold chain that encircled his neck and then focused on his dyed hair. “What’s with this new image? Are we dressing like a teenager these days because we’re in our second childhood, Daddy?” she asked him directly.
John puffed up like an inflated bagpipe. “No, we are not! We’re trying to live life to its fullest, but your stick-in-the-mud mother has entrenched herself in that damn dress shop that I advised her not to buy. But did she listen when I told her I wanted to be able to pack a suitcase and drive off into the sunset on a whim? Nope, she’s got this marvelous career going, says she. Never mind that I’ve waited years for my retirement so we could travel.”
Jan smiled calmly at her red-faced father. “Maybe we can have supper together and you can explain your frustration in detail. Then you and Mom can work out a satisfying compromise.”
John scooped the paper sacks off the counter. “Sorry, hon, not tonight. I’ve got a hot date. You can come by tomorrow evening, but you might as well know, right here and now, that I’m not budging from my position, so your mother better give serious thought to budging from hers.”
Before Jan could reach out to snag his arm, John took off like a cannonball, leaving her to stare bewilderedly after him. For years, Jan had considered her father to be a reasonably adaptable man. Stubborn at the onset, but reasonably adaptable—until he went middle-age crazy on her.
“Janna?” A deep, ultrasexy voice called from behind her.
Jan wheeled around to see Morgan Price ambling from his office. She steadied herself against a nearby shelf to prevent herself from staggering beneath the impact of Morgan’s knock-’em-dead smile, his darkly handsome good looks and swarthy physique. He’d had the same effect on her back in high school. He’d dazzled her, fascinated her—until he’d committed the Queen Mother of all betrayals on a lovesick sixteen-year-old who idolized him. Her super-duper-deluxe crush on Morgan had transformed into hatred the night he’d made a fool of her and mortified her in front of her friends and classmates. He’d instantly fallen from grace and Jan had never forgiven his cruelty. Jan had learned her first lesson about love at his hands and she’d been careful never to commit the mistake again.
Morgan Price was the last man Jan wanted to encounter—she’d spent years avoiding him. But according to Sylvia, Morgan was responsible for John’s stiff-necked stubbornness and his retreat into his second childhood. Now that John and Morgan were running buddies—so to speak—John patterned his appearance and lifestyle after Morgan.
“Hello, Morgan. Nice to see you again.” Not! She tacked on silently.
Morgan folded his muscled arms over his broad chest, crossed his feet at the ankles and leaned casually against the counter. He flashed her another one of those killer smiles, and she steeled herself against his potent charm. She wasn’t a lovestruck teenager anymore and she wasn’t about to be taken in by those entrancing silver-blue eyes, shiny coal-black hair and that impressive athletic build that had won him all sorts of honors and recognition on high school and college basketball courts across the nation. For years he’d been hailed as the athletic wizard of Oz, but Jan’s opinion of him leaned more toward the cruel, belittling devil incarnate.
“You look terrific, Janna,” Morgan complimented in that smoky baritone voice that sent erotic chills shimmying down her spine. Willfully, she defied the devastating effect he had on her.
“It’s Jan these days,” she corrected as she tilted her chin to meet his appraising stare. Morgan might’ve won over her father with all that oozing charm, but she wasn’t falling for it—ever again. “I came to see my dad, but since he’s busy I’ll go across the street to visit with Mom.”
Turning on her heel, she tried to make a beeline for the door, but Morgan was as quick and agile as he’d been during his heyday as reining Homecoming King, All-State superstar jock and Big Man on Campus. He grabbed her arm, halting her escape.
“Hold on a minute, honey,” Morgan said huskily.
“Honey?” Jan jerked loose from his grasp and flambéed him with a glare as past resentment roiled inside her, seeking release. “Let’s get something straight from the get-go,” she told him sharply and directly. “I do not appreciate your negative influence on Dad during this marital crisis. I’m here to mend family fences and I’d appreciate it if you’d butt out and stop urging my father not to return home where he belongs!”
Morgan’s thick black brows jackknifed in surprise. It did Jan a world of good to know she’d startled this hometown Casanova, who’d probably turned out to be as fickle as his mother. Morgan obviously expected to encounter the meek, lovesick teenager he’d mortified years ago. Well, he better think again! Jan had come into her own since she’d left Oz.
“Just calm down,” Morgan said soothingly. “I’m trying to help straighten out this situation between your folks.”
“Right,” she said, then scoffed disdainfully. “You’ve got Dad dressing like he’s half his age and dying his hair. And you call this helping?”
“You’re holding me responsible for John’s change in appearance?”
“Yes,