Not knowing what else to do, he called to her softly. “Yvonne?”
“Hmm?” She glanced in his direction while dabbing Sasha’s face with a napkin.
“I love you.”
Her voice wavered, thick with emotion. “I love you, too.”
It sounded as if she might be on the verge of tears, but he couldn’t stay. Not just because he was woefully late but because he didn’t think he could bear to see her cry. So he turned and left the house, his briefcase and paper sack in hand, leaving her to her day with Sasha.
He waved to Tilda, who was hauling her wheeled cleaning caddy toward the house, as he pulled out of the driveway.
At his office, he greeted Mary Alice on the way to his personal suite. Reaching the alcove where Carson’s desk was situated, he found his intern hunched over his laptop. Clad in his usual checked shirt and dark slacks, Carson typed furiously. The quick movements of his hands over the keys and the focused stare behind the reflection of the screen on his eyeglass lenses indicated he was hard at work on a document.
Maxwell cleared his throat to get the young man’s attention. “Morning, Carson.”
Carson glanced up, then back at the screen. When he looked up again, he stopped typing and straightened in his seat. “Good morning, Mr. D.”
“What are you working on over there? Looks like you’re thinking pretty hard.”
“Tightening up a paper for my Construction Materials and Methods class.” He frowned for a moment as if realizing his faux pas. “Sorry. You know I don’t normally work on schoolwork when I’m here.”
“It’s no big deal.” Maxwell smiled. “Things have cooled off a little since we won the Civic Center project. I’m not opposed to you taking some time to keep up with your classes.”
“Thanks, Mr. D.”
Seated at his desk, he unwrapped Tilda’s homemade quiche and dug in. He loved the combination of flavors: the spicy breakfast sausage, the mozzarella and parmesan cheeses, the crisp red peppers and savory onions. Carson popped in with his coffee, deposited it on the corner of the desk, and exited. Maxwell took a sip, enjoying the way his favorite light roast complemented Tilda’s cooking.
While he ate, he contemplated what it would mean to see Juliana again. It had been almost a year since he’d laid eyes on his ex-girlfriend. She’d deployed when Sasha was about a month old. They didn’t exactly part on good terms, but because they shared a child, Juliana would be a permanent part of his life, as he would of hers, whether they liked it or not.
I doubt there will be much of the typical “catching up” small talk. With something so major for us to hash out, there would be little time. What do you say to the mother of your child when she’s spent the last six months in a war zone?
It wasn’t that he maintained any romantic feelings for Juliana; those had petered out long ago. And he certainly didn’t hate her, though she probably wasn’t too fond of him after the way they’d parted. Whatever the case, the two of them were going to have to put their issues aside and treat each other with respect. They had to act in Sasha’s best interests. It was their duty as her parents.
He crumpled the foil, tossing it into the wastebasket under his desk, along with his fork and paper sack. He had a few calls to make, then he was headed to the construction site to see work begin on the Crown performing arts building. There had been some truth in Braxton’s teasing; he was a bit of a control freak when it came to the execution of his designs. Since his designs were special and very personal to him, he didn’t plan on changing his ways anytime soon.
Lifting his desk phone from the cradle, he set aside his worries for later and started to dial the first number on his list.
* * *
Pushing her shopping cart through the party superstore that afternoon, Yvonne glanced around at the offerings. The tall shelves, brimming with all kinds of brightly colored plastic, seemed to touch the ceilings, making her shake her head. “Why in the world do they stack the merchandise up so high? Do they just like climbing ladders all day?”
Zelda, walking beside her, slurped on the frozen fruit punch she’d carried into the store. “I don’t know, girl. While we’re asking questions, though, why do you have a quilt in the cart with the baby?”
Yvonne laughed, knowing what her sister referred to. “It’s not a quilt, Zelda. It’s a cart seat cover, and it keeps her from touching the cart itself. These things are covered in germs. That’s why I always use my cleaning wipes on them.”
A chuckling Zelda replied, “Okay, Mom.”
Shaking her head, Yvonne looked to Sasha for some support. “You like the cart cover, don’t you, sweetie? It’s nice and fluffy, right? Way better than that hard plastic seat in there.”
Sasha, busy gnawing on her giraffe rattle’s head, giggled in response.
Yvonne took that as validation. “See? She likes it.”
“Wow, Von. You were truly destined to be somebody’s mama. Unlike me, who can’t even keep a potted plant alive.” Zelda snorted a laugh before taking another slurp of her drink.
Still looking into Sasha’s sweet, slightly drool-damp face, Yvonne smiled at the thought of being “somebody’s mama,” as her sister had put it. The one-on-one care she’d been providing for Sasha was the closest thing to motherhood she’d ever experienced, and she loved every moment. Every messy, confusing, hilarious, exhausting moment. “I always thought I’d have kids one day. You know, after I get my day care on really solid footing. Then, I can just bring my babies in to work with me and make sure they get great care along with the rest of the kids there.”
“How’s that going, anyway? Athena said you looked at a building.”
“I did.” Yvonne whipped out her phone and scrolled through the images she’d taken of the building’s interior and exterior. “It’s got everything I need, except a fence around the property and a few cosmetic changes I’d need to make inside.”
“Awesome.” Zelda finished the drink, tossing the empty paper cup into a nearby trash can. “So are you gonna buy it?”
Yvonne shrugged. “I’ve toured four or five properties, and it’s the most perfect one in the bunch.” Blowing out a sigh, she turned the cart into the aisle stocked with solid color plates, cups, and utensils. “I’d have to save for a few more weeks before I can make a down payment.”
“Does Maxwell know about it?”
She nodded, feeling a twinge as she remembered his lack of enthusiasm for her announcement. “I told him about it last night, though he didn’t seem to care that much.”
Frowning, Zelda turned her way. “Sis, ain’t he your man now? Because that means he’s supposed to be behind your dreams one hundred percent.”
“I know, I know. He says he had a lot on his mind last night.” Yvonne grabbed a few of the clear crystal-look platters and added them to the cart. “I just…I’m worried I’m taking this relationship more seriously than he is.”
“This is a weird position for me to be in. Usually, you’re the one giving me advice.” Zelda grinned. “Anyway, I’ll keep it short so we can get on with the preparation for Daddy’s birthday party Sunday. Be careful. Focus on what he does more than what he says, and if you get a bad vibe, bail out, girl.”
“That sounds exactly like something I would say to you.” Yvonne scratched her chin. “Hey, wait. I think I have said that to you!”
“Sound advice is always worth repeating, Von.” Grabbing a shrink-wrapped package of orange plates, Zelda tossed them into the cart. “We should definitely get these. I’m thinking orange and white for the color scheme since orange is his favorite color.”
Yvonne shook her head, amazed by her sister’s ability to switch topics so quickly. In many ways, Zelda hadn’t changed from the rambunctious tot she’d once been. She still flitted from task to task with ease, still managing to give everything equal care and attention. “Thanks. I’ll take my own soun
d advice, then.”
She remembered her encounter with Maxwell that morning before he’d gone out to work. She’d been hurt by his apparent dismissal of her good news, and even after his explanation, she still wasn’t totally convinced she had his support. She couldn’t risk giving her heart to someone unwilling to stand behind the pursuit of her most cherished dream.
Sasha bounced in the seat of the cart, and Yvonne could tell the baby was getting restless. “Let’s hurry up and get the rest of the party supplies. The baby is going to want out of the cart soon.”
Zelda nodded, watching the baby’s excited up and down motion. “I can see that.”
“Let’s do orange and gold. I think that’ll look better together.”
“Why don’t you like my orange and white suggestion?” Zelda stuck out her lips in a mock pout.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. I just don’t think it works for Daddy’s party. He’s turning seventy-nine, you know?” Yvonne held up a gold plastic punch bowl, putting it next to the orange plates. “See? The orange and white are more for a kid’s party. It makes me think of one of those orange ice cream bars. Gold is a little more refined and age-appropriate.”
Tilting her head to the side, Zelda evaluated the choices. “Okay. I get it.”
They loaded up the cart with all the essentials for the party, then went to the register to check out. While they loaded the baby and their purchases into Yvonne’s car, she asked, “Daddy still doesn’t know anything, right?”
Zelda shook her head. “Not a thing. Nobody’s better at keeping a secret than Mommy, and she’s gone out of her way to keep him busy when I needed him out of the house. The nurse has been helping out, too.”
“Great.” Yvonne smiled at the thought of her father’s reaction when he returned from church Sunday and found all his friends waiting for him. “I just need to swing by the bakery to order his favorite cake. Red velvet with white icing.”
“All right. After the bakery, we can go by my place and stash this stuff.” Zelda got into the passenger seat and buckled up.
Once they were on the road, Yvonne asked, “How many people are coming to the party?”
“About twelve. Not many more will fit in the house.”
She nodded. Her parents’ home, while filled with love, was pretty modest. “Hmm. We could probably invite a few more folks if we move it outside to the backyard.”
“True, but the weather’s so unpredictable this time of year.” Staring out the window, Zelda asked, “What about Maxwell? Why don’t you invite him and his family? I didn’t get to meet him since I had to work when he came over for dinner.”
Pulling to a stop at a traffic light, Yvonne shook her head. “I don’t think so, Zelda. I mean, Maxwell may come. But inviting his family is…well, probably not the best idea right now.”
“Why? What’s going on with them?”
By the time they pulled into a parking spot at the bakery, she’d given her sister a basic rundown of what had happened when she accompanied Maxwell to his last family breakfast. “It was a mess.”
“It sounds like it.” Zelda’s expression conveyed her curiosity. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. What could I do?” Climbing out of the car, Yvonne went around to take Sasha out. “Oh, she’s asleep. I’ll just hook the car seat into her stroller frame.”
“Wow. That looks way too complicated.” Zelda stood by the passenger side door, gawking as her sister dealt with the baby. “Anyway, you say you didn’t do anything that day. So what will you do now?”
Pushing the stroller up onto the curb, Yvonne shrugged. “I don’t know that there’s anything for me to do. It’s not really my business.”
“Yes, it is. Don’t you know that old saying? When you marry someone, you marry their whole family.”
Yvonne furrowed her brow. “Oh, come on, Zelda. We’ve only been dating a little while. I don’t think we’re anywhere near the marriage discussion.” While she’d been impressed with Maxwell’s answer to her father’s questions about the direction of their relationship, she knew better than to put too much stock in what he’d said. And even if she had been thinking about marriage, the past few days’ events would probably have put the kibosh on that.
“I don’t know, Sis. It’s bound to come up eventually.”
“Nah. He’s got way too much going on in his life, and when you add the family drama on top of that, he doesn’t have time for serious commitments right now.” Even as she said it, she felt a slight pain inside.
“Well, if it ever does come up, you’d better think long and hard before you make any decisions. I know you, and I don’t think you want to be involved in that kind of drama.”
“Truthfully? I don’t.” She entered the bakery as her sister held the door open for her. “But part of me is like, how can I judge him? Every family has a few secrets.”
“That’s true. But the outside child secret is about as big as they come.”
She had to agree with that. Everything she’d first thought about the Devers family had been turned on its head. They’d seemed so classy, so idyllic. Now, she knew too much to keep believing they were the perfect family, but she couldn’t quite identify why that bothered her so much.
The short line at the counter allowed them to order the birthday cake, schedule pickup for Friday morning, and make it back to the car in under fifteen minutes.
Back at Zelda’s apartment, Yvonne held on to Sasha while Zelda moved all the party supplies inside. Sitting on the pink couch in the living room, she put Sasha down on the floor to let her get some energy out.
“She’s so cute.” Zelda watched the baby as she scooted across the hardwood floor on her bottom. “Does she resemble her dad any?”
Yvonne nodded. “Definitely. She has his eyes and his chin. I guess the rest was contributed by her mom.” She snapped her fingers. “Which reminds me. Her mother is coming home on leave in a few days.”
Zelda fell back in her recliner, clutching her chest dramatically. “Girl! You can’t just be springing stuff on me like that.”
“Oh, quit.”
“Fine. But first, tell me this. How do you feel about…what’s her name?”
“Juliana.”
“How do you feel about Juliana coming back?”
Yvonne shrugged. “It will be great for the baby to see her mother, I’m sure.”
Throwing one leg over the other, Zelda announced, “Yeah. But that’s not what I asked you. I said how do you feel about it?”
“I don’t feel anything, really.” Why should she? Juliana’s return home didn’t have anything to do with her, or at least that was what she told herself.
Zelda popped her lips. “You’re lying. You mean to tell me you’re not worried about Maxwell and ol’ girl rekindling what they had? People do that a lot when there’s a baby involved.”
“No, no. I really can’t see that happening.” Yvonne kept a watchful eye on Sasha’s movements as she spoke. “I’ve heard him talking about her. Trust me, he doesn’t have feelings for her. Not anymore.”
“You say that like his are the only feelings involved here.” Zelda gave an exasperated sigh. “What about her feelings? You’ve never met her. Who’s to say she’s not gonna try to get back with him and do that whole happy family thing?”
Yvonne could feel her shoulders tensing. “I don’t know what I’d do. I hadn’t thought about it, because frankly, it seems very unlikely.”
“Hmph.” Zelda leaned forward in her seat. “Let me ask you this. Did he tell you she was coming home as soon as he knew about it?”
“No. He told me this morning.”
Zelda said nothing but gave her best “I told you so” face.
Yvonne thought for a moment. Why’d he hesitate to tell me about it? After Bianca texted him, he could have let me know what was going on. “It’s a
little weird now that I’m thinking about it.”
“Von, you really think he would just come out and tell you if she might still have feelings for him?”
“Yeah, I think so. Why wouldn’t he?”
“I’m not trying to be funny, really. But think about it. His daddy kept a secret from the entire family for, what, thirty years? And you don’t think this man could avoid a topic with you for a few weeks?”
Yvonne blinked several times but remained silent.
“I hate to tell you this, but men lie all the time. And as for Maxwell, lying is coded into the man’s genes.” Zelda folded her arms over her chest. “His daddy pulled off one hell of a caper.”
By the time Yvonne took Sasha home, she knew she needed answers from Maxwell. The question is, how do I get them?
Chapter 18
At the construction site Thursday morning, Maxwell went straight to Braxton’s workstation to view the work that was underway. Framers had already put up the first-floor walls for the arts center, and another team had laid the concrete foundation that would serve as the first level of the four-story parking deck.
“It’s really coming together, isn’t it?”
Braxton turned to Maxwell, wearing a broad grin. “See? I told you there was nothing to worry about. Think you can let me take over from here?”
Chuckling, Maxwell nodded. “That was the plan from the beginning. But yes, Brax. You and your crew have got things well under control here, which will free me to handle some family business, then focus on my next building project.”
Braxton’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Family business?”
“Yeah. My daughter’s mother is an army medic, and she’ll be coming home on leave tomorrow from Afghanistan.”
“I see. Well, even though I complain about you being here too much, don’t forget about us, okay?”
“Never. I’ll be stopping by periodically, just to check on your progress.” Maxwell bumped fists with the construction manager, and after one last look at the beginnings of his most complex design to date, he strolled off toward the main trailer.
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