A Match Made In Vegas

by Debra Salonen

  “And now Mr. Gaylord is my client. Do you know that word?"

  Maya nodded. "It means boyfriend."

  Alexa's jaw dropped. "No, it doesn't. A client is a person who does business with you."

  "Mommy was Daddy Rob's client, and now they're married."

  Well, that was true. At one time, Kate had retained Rob to handle her opposition to her ex-husband's custody claim.

  Alexa heard a snicker. From her mother. She gave Yetta a stern look then told Maya, "That was different. Mark...Mr. Gaylord...and I aren't getting married."

  Maya cocked her head and smiled in a way that made Alexa's heart lift and fall peculiarly. "Okay, Aunt Alexa, if you say so, but he does like you. So does Braden."

  "Honey, I know you're very good at guessing what people are thinking, but since Braden doesn't speak, you can't say for sure what he feels." And we aren't even going to get into what Mark thinks or feels.

  Maya heaved a sigh. "When we were in Cubbyland, we talked with our eyes. He says you're sad. I told him he was silly. You laugh and sing all the time. He said it's okay. He likes sad people because he's sad, too."

  "Why is he sad?" Yetta asked.

  Maya shrugged. "Not sure. I'm done. Can I have a cookie now, Grandma?"

  Alexa looked at her mother. She didn't like the concern she read in Yetta's eyes. Oh, great. Just what I need—my family thinking I’m on the verge of depression.

  "I wanna cookie, too," Gemilla said. "I don't like soup. Where's my daddy?"

  Fortunately, the children's needs took precedence over the perceived ennui of an aunt, but Alexa knew she'd hear about this later. Hopefully, much later.

  Chapter 6

  Alexa couldn't believe how fast the week had flown by. She'd lived through four afternoons with Braden and five meetings with Braden's father. She deserved a drink. Too bad she was abstaining from alcohol. And caffeine.

  She'd finally broken down and asked Liz if there was any kind of herbal teas or supplements that were recommended for a woman who was planning on getting pregnant after several years of taking birth-control pills.

  Of course, Alexa had made it clear that the inquiry was on behalf of one of the Dancing Hippo mothers who desperately wanted a second child. In the past, Liz might have questioned Alexa a bit more intently and discovered the truth behind the request, but these days Liz was too preoccupied to look deeper.

  In fact, all three of her sisters were pretty wrapped up in their own lives. For the first time in...maybe forever, Alexa felt freed from her family's intense, albeit loving, scrutiny. The independence was both exhilarating and daunting.

  Do I really dare go through with such a huge, life-altering decision without talking to my sisters first? Now would be the perfect time to bring up the subject, she thought, as she watched Liz loop a strand of mini lights around the corner post of the fence.

  Today was Saturday. Grace had arrived on a red-eye flight from Detroit Thursday night. She'd attended some sort of legal hearing yesterday and, now, she and Liz were helping Alexa put up outside decorations around the Hippo while waiting for Paul to return with Lydia and Reezira.

  Alexa couldn't't decide who was more excited about the move—Liz and her hubby-to-be or their two Romanian boarders.

  "Not those, Grace," Alexa said, pointing to the strand of old-fashioned lights her sister was holding. "I'm giving Mom all the red ones."

  "Red? Seriously?" Grace appeared shocked.

  "I know. She's used blue and white for as long as I can remember, but she told me yesterday she was ready for a change."

  Grace made a face. "I wonder what that means. Do you suppose it's Mom's subtle way of telling us she's serious about Zeke?"

  Alexa had known that was coming. "I raised that question, and she said—and I quote, 'Tell Grace that red lights mean I want red lights. Period."'

  "She didn't say that."

  "Absolute truth."

  Grace tossed her head in a Grace fashion and crossed her arms. "Fine. If you say so, but something fishy is going on around here. I can sense it. Someone has a secret."

  Alexa turned back to the holly bush she was draping with lights. Alexa had learned never to underestimate her youngest sister's clairvoyant abilities. All four Parlier sisters had certain sensibilities, but Grace was by far the most open about hers.

  Liz let out a low groan. "Okay, I give. It's me."

  Alexa looked over her shoulder. Liz had taken off her gardening gloves and was resting her butt against the Dancing Hippo sign, which Alexa had decorated the week before. "It is?"

  "Uh-huh. I...l'm going to be a mother."

  Alexa nearly fell off the child-size step she was balancing on. "What? When? You aren't even married yet." Which she realized was a ridiculously hypocritical thing to say when she was secretly planning on conceiving without a husband anywhere in sight.

  "We will be by the time the baby comes. This process could take a year or more."

  “Huh?” Grace looked at Alexa, confused.

  "Paul and I are going to adopt a child from India." She held up a hand before either of her sisters could say anything. "No. Not Prisha," she quickly added. Prisha was the handicapped little girl Liz had met in her travels to an Indian ashram. That adoption had fallen through when Prisha's birth mother had returned for her daughter. "She's doing very well with her mother, and I couldn't be happier for them both. But Paul knew how much Prisha meant to me, and he was determined to help me find another child."

  Alexa looked at Grace, who was smiling. "You've found one, haven't you?"

  "We think so," Liz said, stressing the word think. "Paul has a friend in the State Department who is helping to expedite the paperwork, but anything could happen so we're not getting our hopes up too high."

  "What if you have a child of your own before then?"

  Liz shrugged. "Mom had two kids fifteen months apart. Neither Alexa nor I turned out too neurotic. Wait. I take that back. The jury's still out on Alexa. Did Mom tell you what she did?"

  Grace walked to where Liz was standing. "No. What?"

  "She accepted Mark Gaylord's son into her after school program."

  "No way."

  They both looked at her, and Alexa felt an uncharacteristic desire to run and hide. "He's a sad little boy with a speech impediment. Stop reading more into this than there is. I provide a service that Mark desperately needs."

  "He must have been desperate to come to you," Grace said.

  "Thanks a lot."

  She waved her hand. "Oh, pooh, you know what I meant. Everyone knows you're a fabulous teacher. I'm surprised he didn’t bring his kid here years ago. What does his wife say about this?"

  Alexa picked up the loose end of her light cord and plugged it into the extension cord she'd bought at Lowe's. Since it was only noon, the little lights barely glowed, but she was satisfied the strand worked.

  Turning around to face Grace, she said, 'Tracey died last March. Some sort of accident. I meant to search online for it, but I've been a little shorthanded...as Liz knows."

  Liz nodded. "I don't mind helping out, Alexa. Working with the kids gives me a chance to see what it's going to be like after I have my own. You can call me anytime."

  Alexa appreciated the offer, even though she still hadn't quite decided how she felt about Liz's declaration that she was going to be a mother. She could certainly empathize with Liz's desire to have a child but wasn't clear on why Liz was so intent on adopting.

  Suddenly a thought struck her. "Oh, no, Liz," she said reaching out. “This isn't a result of what happened to you in Bosnia, is it? The rape?"

  Liz made a face. "No. As far as I know I can have children, and like I said, Paul and I hope to someday. But this is something I want to do."

  Alexa understood. Some dreams were impossible to give up entirely.

  Grace hugged Liz and motioned Alexa to join in. “Come on, Alexa. Group hugs are something I don't get living in Detroit. I know Nikolai and I are meant for each other, and I've never
been happier, but, darn, I miss you guys."

  Alexa wrapped her arms around her sisters. She felt for Grace. Sometimes her family could be overbearing and nosy, but most of the time they were a source of comfort and security. "We miss you, too, Gracie."

  When they stepped back, Grace was sniffling. She pulled off her glove and grabbed a tissue from the pocket of her jean jacket. "Am I spoiled or what?"

  She didn't wait for an answer, adding, "I try to tell myself to suck it up and get more involved in the Detroit world, but it's so darn cold I can barely make myself take Rip for a walk." Rip was Nick's dog. "And Nick's parents just left on a cruise, so now I'm really alone."

  "So they're not selling their house and moving?" Alexa asked.

  “They took it off the market. I don't think they know what they want to do. Right now, Jurek is house-sitting for them.”

  “Nick's birth father Jurek? Wow. I hadn’t heard that.”

  "Will they still be traveling over Christmas?" Liz asked.

  "No. They plan to spend Christmas with Nick's sister, and then fly down here for New Year's Eve. We'll go back together." The last came out as a tearful hiccup, which made Liz and Alexa look at each other and laugh.

  "She really is spoiled," Liz said.

  "Pathetic," Alexa agreed.

  Grace stuck out her tongue then skipped back to the fence to finish her lighting job. "Not my fault. I grew up believing I was a Gypsy princess, and now my husband-to-be treats me like a queen."

  Liz groaned. "Braggart. But speaking of fiancés, there's mine. Sorry, Alexa, I have to run. Once we get the girls unpacked, Paul and I are going to Romantique for dinner. I swear he can't get enough of that place, which is fine with me because one, I hate to cook and two, I have to deliver some tea."

  Alexa watched Liz dash across the street and disappear into their mother's home. The lightness in her step made Alexa smile.

  "She's like a different person, isn't she?"

  Alexa turned to find Grace right beside her. She hadn't heard her walk up. ''Um.. .yeah. They say love will do that to a person."

  "It's true. I remember thinking the same thing about you when you fell in love with Mark."

  "Really? Weren't you living in Colorado then?"

  Grace nodded. "Yup, and every time I came home, it was like watching a documentary on falling in love. You and Mark were so perfect for each other. You looked great together and you were obviously madly in love." She shrugged. "You two set the bar really high, let me tell you. Which in no way explains how I managed to fall for such a loser the first time around—before I met Nikolai."

  Alexa smiled. Grace was always quick to poke fun at herself. She was now even able to joke about her relationship with a gorgeous ski bum who'd cheated on her. Which, ironically, was not unlike Alexa's situation.

  "Getting back to Mark and his kid," Grace said a second later, "are you sure this is a good idea? Isn't seeing him on a daily basis opening yourself up to old heartache?"

  Alexa bent over to pick up the spare lights and put them in the plastic storage box. "I don't think so. What happened between us was a long time ago. I've dated quite a few men since Mark and—"

  "None of them matched up to him."

  True, but not the point she was trying to make. "And I've decided that unlike my very lucky sisters, there is no Mr. Right looking for me."

  Grace made a yelp as if Alexa had kicked her. "No, don't say that. You know there's a man for you. Your prophecy says..." Alexa could see Grace trying to recall the exact wording of the prediction their mother had made when Alexa was a little girl.

  “‘A child's laughter can heal a wounded heart, if first you heal the child.’ Back then, I believed it.”

  She'd embraced the idea that Mark was the child who'd needed healing. From the first time he'd talked about his relationship with his father, she'd understood that beneath his tough-cop bravado was a wounded little boy. She'd been convinced her love had helped heal his torment. They'd laughed and loved and been so happy together.

  Until.. Braden.

  "Let's drop it, Grace, okay? I still have a lot of things to get done around here, and didn't I hear you were helping out at the restaurant tonight?"

  Grace sighed. "Yeah. For old times' sake. I miss Romantique, too, but don't tell Nikolai. He'd feel badly. He tries to be my everything, and he is—in certain ways," she said with a playful grin, "but I guess a part of me will always be here with my family."

  Alexa understood. "I used to feel embarrassed because I was over thirty and living across the street from my parents. But not anymore. This works for me. I love my family, and the proximity will be even more important when I—“ She stopped herself just in time.

  “When you...?”

  "When I'm old and decrepit. What else?"

  Grace had a suspicious look in her eyes, but before she could say anything, a horn sounded and Kate pulled into the cul-de-sac. "I have warm Danish," she called out the window. "My mother-in-law's gift to Grace, but we all get to share."

  "Danish? I love Jo's Danish," Grace exclaimed, doing a little dance. "It may mean ordering my wedding dress one size larger, but Nikolai says he likes a little meat on my bones."

  Mark used to tell Alexa that, too. Her weight had never bothered her. Even in her teens, when all her friends were on crash diets, Alexa had felt comfortable in her body. If a guy wasn't interested in a size-sixteen girl, then his loss, she'd figured.

  Grace paused at the gate. "Aren't you coming?"

  "Go ahead and start without me. I have to put these boxes in the shed."

  "Better hurry. I'm not promising to save you anything."

  “Enjoy every bite, Pig.”

  Grace took the ribbing with a giant smile, then she dashed away. Alexa chuckled as she picked up the mostly empty box.

  No Danish for me. She was taking Liz's advice and sticking to a healthy diet. No extra fats or refined sugar. But she didn't intend to tell her family that. Not yet.

  Mark was sorting laundry when the call came. As usual, he checked the number on his land line before answering. He recognized the caller. His heart rate increased. Take it or not?

  "Oh, hell, she'll track me down if I don't," he mumbled.

  "What do you want, Odessa?"

  "A civil greeting, for one thing," the woman replied.

  Mark didn't say a word.

  "You're a hard, unforgiving man, Mark Gaylord. Why my daughter worked so hard to snag you is beyond me."

  Snag. Great word. Made him feel like a fish scooped out of the river.

  "Make your point, Odessa. I don't have time for chitchat."

  “‘Chitchat?’ Is that what you call it when I haven't seen my baby grandson in two months and every time I call, you make some lame excuse about his mental state? I'm sick of the runaround, Mark. I want to see my grandson. Now. Today."

  "Impossible. I just got him settled in a new after-school program. He's doing better and I don't want you upsetting him."

  "Me? I'm not the one who killed his mother—your wife."

  The words sounded hauntingly like the rumor being whispered around the fire house. "Tracey and I were divorced, Odessa. You know that. I had nothing to do with what happened to her, and I resent the—"

  "You'll resent a lot more once they put you in jail for murder, won't you?"

  Mark's hands stilled on the pile of cold, damp jeans that he was preparing to put in the dryer. The reopening of Tracey's case wasn't common knowledge. No charges had been filed. How had she heard about it? "What are you talking about?"

  "You know what,” she said with a cackle. “Tracey still has friends in the department. Finally, the truth will come out and vindicate my poor baby girl. You sent her to that evil place. You tricked her into going there, then you set up some sort of bomb and had it rigged to blow when she went in. You did it, Mark. You killed my daughter."

  The words echoed in Mark's head even as he hung up the receiver. Feeling light-headed, he turned around, intending to
get a glass of water to calm his nerves.

  Braden was standing a few feet away. Had he heard his grandmother's charges? How could he not? The woman had been practically shrieking. None of the specialists had ever said Braden's hearing was compromised, only his ability to speak.

  On impulse, Mark bent over and picked up his son. He set him on the dryer so they were just about eye to eye. "That was your Grandma Odessa. She's never really forgiven me for marrying your mother. I can't do anything about that, but I don't have to listen to her. If she calls back, I won't pick up the phone. Are we clear on that?"

  Braden nodded.

  Mark took a breath and let it go. The room smelled like fabric softener and warm moist heat. But the cozy safety had been violated, and Mark only knew one way to escape his fears—outrun them. "How 'bout we take the bikes and get out of here?"

  Braden nodded again, with volume.

  “Go change your clothes. A warm sweatshirt, for sure. I have one quick call to make." Probably a mistake. A big mistake. But...he punched in the number he'd already memorized. She picked up on the third ring. She sounded breathless, as if she'd run in from outdoors.

  "Alexa, it's Mark. I wanted to share my good news. Braden has nodded affirmative. Twice. And the second time was almost loud."

  Her laugh made him feel better about the call. He'd known she would understand. This was progress, of sorts, and she'd undoubtedly played a part in making that happen. Braden had been sleeping better since he'd started going to the Hippo. He still had nightmares, but they didn't seem as bad. So she deserved to share in the rewards, right?

  "Bray and I are going for a bike ride. Out in Red Rock Canyon. Do you want to go with us?"

  She didn't answer right away. He could almost hear all the reasons not to go racing through her head, but he waited. Hopeful. Nervous. Ridiculous.

  "I shouldn't. I still have so much to do around here, but I haven't been to Red Rocks since before my dad's first stroke. He used to take us girls hiking there all the time. I'm tempted—even if I won't be able to keep up with two guys on bikes."

  "Don't worry. We'll let you set the pace. Can you be ready in twenty minutes?"