School. It started tomorrow, and how in heaven would he and Diana manage to keep away from each other with the girls out of the house every day for several hours? He was no saint—she’d been warned about that already. The logical answer was for him to move out, but he resisted taking such a drastic step.
He knew rationally that they couldn’t live forever with the arrangement they had, but other than moving, no easy answers occurred to him. She was right about the girls. An obvious sexual liaison would embarrass them, and he didn’t want to hurt Laurie and Allison any more than Diana did. But God, how her silver eyes haunted him, how her ripe body beckoned whenever they were in the same room. He’d known the mindless delirium of touching her milk-white skin, and he couldn’t forget.
The paintbrush trembled in his hand as he relived for the hundredth time their brief moment in the darkened kitchen, and he smeared his line of paint onto the pane of glass. Swearing with restraint in case either of the girls were within earshot, he reached for the paint rag. Tomorrow he’d spend the entire day in the library. Maybe he’d have to spend every day in the library or risk being alone in a quiet house with his lovely Diana—a situation neither of them was strong enough to handle.
With a heartfelt sigh he dipped his brush into the paint once more.
* * *
At breakfast the next day, the girls gulped their food and fiddled with their new clothes.
“I’m finally going to Washington Middle School,” Allison said with a triumphant sigh.
“Best middle school in town,” Laurie boasted. “Maybe in the whole state. The whole country, probably.”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t go to another school for anything. Tammy’s parents told her they might be moving. Boy, is she unlucky.”
“I wouldn’t go,” Laurie declared darkly. “I’d run away or something.”
Diana listened with understanding. Since Jim’s death the girls had clung to the things in their life that hadn’t changed—school and friends. In many ways she envied them their scheduled activities. Especially today.
To avoid being alone with Zach, she had planned a shopping trip, lunch with a friend and a salon appointment to get her hair trimmed. Zach cooperated by announcing he’d be at the library until late in the afternoon. Silently they communicated across the breakfast table – one day at a time.
She coordinated her return home with the end of school. Listening to Allison and Laurie’s accounts of the first day was timeworn tradition, and once the girls were back in the house, the danger of being alone with Zach would be gone. Gone, that is, until the next day.
Allison breezed through the front door first. “Hi, Mom. What can I eat?”
“Fruit. How was your first day?”
“Freaky. No cookies?”
“Fruit.”
“I’ll just have milk. I’ve got all good teachers except Mr. Dudley, and does he have the right name. A real dud.” Allison opened the refrigerator.
“Maybe he’ll improve.”
“No chance. He sat us alphabetically, which put me right behind that doofo-brain George. All the good kids are on the other side of the room. Why does my last name have to start with T?”
“Lousy luck of the draw, I guess. Who sits across the room?”
“Oh, Sharon and Lesli.” Allison poured her milk. “And Ted,” she added, talking into the open refrigerator as she replaced the milk carton.
“Ted?” Diana struggled to keep a straight face. Allison had never included a boy in her list of “the good kids.”
“Yeah. He’s new. Mom, do you think I’d look better with a different haircut?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” she replied casually. To register shock would not be appropriate.
“Tonight I might look at some of Laurie’s magazines. Get some ideas. Is Zach home?”
“Not yet. Did you see Laurie on the bus?”
“Yeah.” Wariness flickered in her eyes, and she abruptly changed the subject. “Gotta put on my old clothes,” she said, rising. “And get out the tools. Zach said we’d build the cage for Mozart and Chopin this afternoon. They can’t stay in that cardboard box much longer.” She finished her milk and ran up the stairs. In no time she bounded back through the kitchen, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.
“Allison, your glass.”
“Oh. Right.” She snatched it from the table, gave it a cursory rinsing and disappeared out the back door.
Diana sat at the kitchen table, musing about Allison’s remarks. Zach had been right. She was growing up. And what was the deal with Laurie and the bus? Had Allison been snubbed by Laurie’s crowd? She hoped not. Then she pictured Allison and Zach struggling with their project this afternoon, and she almost laughed out loud. What sort of strange monstrosity of a chicken coop would she have in her backyard by nightfall?
The front door creaked open, and Laurie trudged through the living room and into the kitchen. She plopped her books on the table, and avoiding her mother’s gaze, went to the cupboard for a glass.
“Laurie? Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Have a good first day?”
“It was fine.” She opened the refrigerator and took out the milk.
“Any bad teachers?” She eyed her daughter with concern. Laurie was quieter than Allison, but usually not this much quieter, especially on the first day of school.
“No.” She poured the milk with studious concentration and stood at the counter with her back turned.
Diana waited for a full minute, and when no more conversation seemed forthcoming, she voiced her primary fear. “Did Allison embarrass you on the bus?”
“No.”
Diana gritted her teeth in frustration. She should give up this stupid parent’s game of twenty questions, but she decided to venture one last sally. “Are you coming down with something?”
“I feel fine, Mom.”
“You don’t act fine,” Diana said, her exasperation showing in her voice. “Are we in some teenager mode where you refuse to talk to me?”
Laurie turned slowly and looked at her. “Jenny Caruthers is a bitch, that’s all.”
“Laurie!” Her eyes widened. “I’ve never heard you use that kind of language.”
“It’s the only word that fits.” Laurie’s eyes grew glassy with tears. “I wish I could punch her lights out!”
Diana was on her feet in an instant. “Laurie, my goodness!” She pried the glass from her daughter’s clenched fingers. “What is it?”
Laurie brought both hands to her face and began to sob. “I wasn’t going to tell you!” she cried. “I promised myself I wouldn’t, and now—”
She gathered her daughter close and rocked her back and forth as a thousand horrible possibilities flashed through her mind. “It’s okay,” she crooned mindlessly. “Everything’s going to be fine, darling.”
“It’s only that I didn’t know what to say,” Laurie choked against her shoulder. “She made me so mad that I couldn’t talk.”
“Say about what?”
“You and Zach!”
Diana felt a cold fist close around her heart. “What do you mean?”
“Jenny was asking all these questions.” Laurie sniffed. “Asking if you two were married or just living together. In front of my other friends, too. She asked how I liked my mother’s new boyfriend. She even wanted to know where he slept!”
“Laurie, I’m so sorry.” Diana swallowed hard and held her daughter tighter.
“So am I,” said a deep baritone.
They broke apart and turned to see Zach standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes filled with pain.
“The last thing I want is to hurt you, any of you,” he continued, walking toward them. “If my presence is doing that, I’ll have to leave.”
“Oh, no.” Laurie wiped her nose with the back of one hand. “I don’t want you to leave.”
The back door banged shut. “Leave?” cried Allison. “Did someone say Zach is going to leave? What’s wrong with Laurie
?”
“Someone said a few hurtful things to her after school today,” Diana explained.
“So what? What does dumb old Jenny have to do with Zach leaving?” Allison said, the pitch of her voice rising rapidly.
Laurie looked at her sister. “You heard her, didn’t you? That means the whole bus heard her!”
“It seems I’m causing you all embarrassment,” Zach said quietly.
“No! That’s stupid.” Allison grabbed his arm frantically. “You can’t leave, because I need you to help me with the chickens and my homework and everything, and I—oh! I just knew this would happen!” She burst into tears.
“Allison.” Zach drew her against him. “Don’t cry. Nobody’s going anywhere yet.”
“Al! My name is Al, and don’t you forget it,” she said between choking sobs.
Diana took a deep breath, afraid that she, too, might break down at any moment. “Let’s all sit down with a plate of cookies and talk this over.”
Allison lifted her tearstained face. “We can have some? You said before we couldn’t.”
Diana smiled tremulously. “I know. Some situations call for cookies.” She gave Laurie one last hug and walked to the ceramic cookie jar, where she filled a large plate with the batch she’d made during her frenzied attempts to keep busy.
“I’ll get the milk,” Zach offered.
They all sat down at their normal places, Zach and Diana across from each other and the girls at each end of the table.
Fortified with a large supply of her favorite peanut-butter treat, Allison began. “Okay, what’s this business about Zach leaving?”
Diana searched for the right words. “Jenny—”
“Who is a complete nerd,” Laurie added.
“Maybe so,” Diana agreed. “Anyway, she made remarks to Laurie suggesting that Zach and I were…that we…”
“That we were acting like married people, without being married,” Zach supplied gently.
“I know. She thinks you’re sleeping together,” Allison blurted out, her mouth full of cookie.
“Allison!” Laurie said sternly.
“But you’re not!” Allison protested. “Why didn’t you say that, Laurie? And while you were at it, why didn’t you tell Supernerd Jenny to stick her big fat head in a—”
“Why didn’t you? If you heard it, why weren’t you the brave one to tell Jenny off?”
“You know I’m just a seventh grader,” Allison proclaimed hotly. “Seventh graders don’t go around telling off eighth graders, now do they?”
“Take it easy, girls,” Zach said gently, quelling their argument with one glance. “The point is, Laurie’s friends may not believe anything she says, especially if she gets mad about it. Looks like I’ve put all three of you in an awkward position, and it’s time for me to move out.”
“Not on your life,” Allison said staunchly, reaching for another cookie. “You’re staying. Laurie doesn’t want you to leave, either. Didn’t you say that, Laurie?”
“Yes.”
“Besides,” Allison continued, “if you move out, it’ll look like those stupid girls were right, like you’ve got something to hide.”
Zach smiled apologetically at Diana. “No-win situation, huh? What do you think?”
“Allison has a point, but that doesn’t mean you should stay if you’re the least bit uncomfortable about the gossip. Jenny and her friends may have gotten the idea from their parents.”
He shook his head. “I’m from out of town. Gossip doesn’t bother me.” He looked straight at her. “I’m more worried about you.”
Silence descended over the table for several moments, and then Allison spoke again. “I don’t know about Mom, but I want you to stay.”
“So do I,” added Laurie.
Diana met his concerned gaze with uncertainty. What if she and Zach had been sitting here today with guilty consciences? Jenny’s accusations were false now, but how much longer would they remain that way?
“Diana?” Zach said softly, his blue eyes intent.
She clenched her hands together on the table. Now was her chance to remove the temptation of Zachary Wainwright forever. Regardless of what the girls said, if she asked him to leave, he would go. And she knew he would back the decision and keep the girls from blaming her.
She held his gaze unflinchingly, but her voice quavered. “I want you to stay.”
A flame leapt to life in his blue eyes. “Thank you.”
“Way to go, Mom,” Allison said approvingly.
“And I’m going to tell that Jenny a thing or two about her dirty mind!” Laurie vowed. “Wait till I get through with her.”
“Then it’s settled,” Allison proclaimed. “Come on, Zach. We’ve got a chicken coop to build.”
After they left, Diana stood at the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes and watching the Laurel and Hardy act that was Zach and Allison trying to build a cage for the chickens.
“Mom?” Laurie said, her mouth full of cookies.
“Yes?” She put down the peeler and turned toward the table. She’d forgotten Laurie was still sitting there.
“It’s probably none of my business, but has Zach ever talked about—that is, do you think he would ever…”
“What?”
“I wondered if he ever mentioned living in Springfield. Permanently.”
“No.”
Laurie sighed.
Diana picked up the potato peeler again. “He’ll only be here until his research on Lincoln is finished.”
“I know that’s the way it was planned, but I think he likes you a lot, Mom.”
“Oh?”
“You should see the way he looks at you. Like one of the guys in those romantic movies you like so much. Hungry eyes.”
“You’re seeing far too many movies, young lady.”
“Not compared to Jenny. She gets to see all the R-rated ones, too.”
“And how many have you watched at her house?”
“What am I supposed to do? Hide my eyes when I’m over there? Anyway, I probably won’t go over to stupid Jenny’s house anymore, anyway. And you’re changing the subject. I say Zach likes you. Really likes you.”
“I like him, too.”
“Well, then why don’t you get married? That would solve everything!”
Diana concentrated on her potatoes and tried for the matter-of-fact tone of the anchorwoman on the six o’clock news. “For one thing, we may like each other, but we’re not in love.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, I am.” Lust, maybe, but not love. “But there’s another major reason we’re not getting married.”
“What’s that?”
“He hasn’t asked me.”
“Give him time, Mom. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day he popped the old question.”
“And how would you feel about that?”
“Great! I think he’s a neat guy. The four of us could be really happy here.”
“Laurie, Zach’s home is in California,” she said with quiet emphasis, “and he might expect his family to live there, too.”
Laurie looked puzzled. “California?”
“That’s right. His dream is to become a professor at Stanford. That’s why he’s earning his doctorate.” Might as well squash this idea early, she thought. “I take it you wouldn’t want to live in California?”
“No way! I’m going to Lanphier High School, no matter what.”
“Then I guess that takes care of all the questions, doesn’t it?”
When Laurie didn’t answer, Diana glanced over her shoulder at her daughter. She sat staring morosely at her half-eaten cookie. Putting down the peeler for the second time, Diana walked to the table and put her arms around Laurie’s slumped shoulders. “I’m sorry. I know how much you like Zach and wish he could stay around forever. But you can’t get your hopes up. I probably need to have a talk with Allison, too.”
“That’s okay, Mom. I’ll talk to her.”
Diana
was silent for a moment as she realized that Laurie probably could do a better job of explaining everything to Allison. The time had come when a wise mother stepped back and encouraged the alliance between her children to strengthen, as it seemed to be doing every day. When Zach left, the girls would need each other more than ever. “I’d appreciate your talking to her. Thanks.” She gave her daughter a smile and a hug.
* * *
In the backyard Zach sawed and pounded with a vengeance. If he’d doubted the true lay of the land before, he had a detailed roadmap now. If their mother indulged in a sexual relationship without the benefit of marriage and lived blatantly in the same house with the man, Laurie and Allison would become social outcasts in their crowd at school. A distance of more than miles existed between Springfield and California.
Therefore, he could put up with the lure of Diana, knowing he couldn’t have her, or he could remove himself from temptation by leaving the house. Was the tiger behind door number one or door number two? He swung the hammer viciously against the wood, and it split.
“Da —uh—doggone it,” he said, glancing at Allison.
“That’s okay, Zach,” she said with a smile, adjusting her hold on the split board. “I’ve heard swear words before.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You should have heard Mom the day the toilet broke down, and we had to hire a plumber.”
He chuckled. “Turned the air blue, did she?”
Allison looked puzzled. “No, I don’t think so. She doesn’t like those bathroom sprays.”
“It’s an expression,” he explained gently. “It means she swore a lot.”
“Oh. Then I guess she turned the air dark blue.”
“Your mother?” He grinned. “Such a lady, yet such a surprise sometimes.”
“Yeah. That was the day she decided to advertise for a handyman. Boy, am I glad she did.”
He looked away from the worship in Allison’s eyes. How could he ever leave? When Allison got that puppy-dog look on her face, his heart melted. And Laurie, quiet sensitive Laurie, desperately needed the little words of encouragement he gave her every day. And his unwittingly provocative Diana. Whether she admitted the fact or not, she had come to depend on his presence to balance the family, even if he wasn’t allowed to satisfy her inner cravings.
The Fix-It Man Page 9