Wednesday's Child

by Leigh Michaels

  “How many kinds are there?” Layne asked weakly.

  Carolyn Kirk smiled. “Dozens, I suppose. I should have phrased it a little differently. What sort of cooking do you need done? This kind of thing?” She gestured towards the ham.

  “Mostly it’s just family meals, but there will be occasional dinner parties. We’re having one next week for the governor — there will be eighteen for dinner, and I’d planned on Chicken Wellington.”

  “A good choice. You could serve Chicken Wellington to eight hundred and do a good job.

  Anything elaborate for dessert?”

  “The governor’s favorite is baked Alaska.”

  Robbie and Beast came in just then. “Have you been to Alaska?” he asked Mrs. Kirk. “I

  sure hope so, because then my mom can hire you and she won’t have to cook dinner.”

  Mrs. Kirk scratched Beast’s ears thoroughly. The dog looked disappointed when she got up to wash her hands. “No, I haven’t been there, but I can make a mean baked Alaska,” she told Robbie. “Just wait till you try it.”

  Robbie was unconvinced. “Do you bake cookies? And fudge layer cakes?”

  “I certainly do. And I make chocolate éclairs and cream puffs and Napoleons and cherries jubilee and...”

  “Can I have them all?”

  “Not all at once, no.”

  Layne laughed. “I think you just answered my other question. I’m looking for someone

  who will make my son feel at home in the kitchen, but who will exercise some prudence about what he eats here.” In another few weeks, she reminded herself, she would no longer be there to keep an eye on him. Having someone like Mrs. Kirk around would help.

  “I raised four boys of my own,” Mrs. Kirk said dryly. “Tell you what, Mrs. Emerson. Why don’t you turn tonight’s dinner over to me, and after it’s over we’ll talk about the job.”

  “That’s a marvelous idea. I’ll pay you for tonight, of course, whether you come to work for us or not.”

  The woman shook her head. “If dinner isn’t good enough to convince you, then you don’t need to pay me.”

  “I’m on my way to the airport to meet my husband. He’s the one you’ll need to convince.”

  Mrs. Kirk looked thoughtful. “Perhaps I’ll whip up some hot rolls. There’s time for my special recipe.”

  “Good idea. Coming, Robbie?”

  The airport was busy and planes were stacked, circling and waiting to land, but finally Kyle’s flight was called. Layne glanced at her watch and was doubly thankful for Mrs. Kirk.

  “There he is,” Robbie exclaimed and ran to meet his father. Layne studied Kyle’s face, watching as the tiredness vanished as he saw his son.

  Her heart twisted. Did she look like that when she first caught sight of Robbie, she

  wondered. She was glad for them, she told herself fiercely. It would make it easier for the child.

  It was crazy to be jealous of Kyle when Robbie ran to him. Of course he was delighted to see his father. He was still playing a new game.

  And then she thought, as she walked slowly towards them, that it was even crazier to be jealous of Robbie when Kyle swung the boy up into his arms with that passionate joy in his eyes.

  After all, she didn’t expect Kyle to be thrilled at the sight of her.

  And why, Layne Emerson, she scolded herself, should that make you feel so damn sad?

  Kyle came toward her with a smile, Robbie still in his arms as if he couldn’t bear to put him down.

  Layne’s heart ached at the sight of them together, so very much alike.

  Kyle set his briefcase down and let Robbie slide slowly to the floor. “Hi, Layne.” He put his arms around her. “Aren’t you going to welcome a tired traveler?”

  Layne’s eyes were wide with shock.

  Kyle laughed. “I assure you, my lovely wife, I do not intend to make love to you here in the terminal.” His hands traveled gently across the small of her back, pressing her tight against him.

  Every sensitive nerve ending screamed under his gentle touch. Why was he doing this,

  Layne wondered. What was he trying to prove? But she had no time to speculate on Kyle’s reasons before he kissed her.

  It was a lover’s kiss, long and gentle, the one he had always used to tell her how desirable she was. He hasn’t forgotten how, she thought, dazed by the assault. She was clinging to him to keep from falling, and he knew it. He smiled as he released her, shifting his hold until he was half-supporting her with one arm lightly around her waist.

  “Have you had a pleasant, peaceful couple of days?” he asked. There was a cynical twist to his words, and she flinched at the sudden change in his attitude.

  It’s just a reminder that you’re only here to meet him because he wanted Robbie, Layne told herself. Remember it, and act accordingly.

  But if he felt that way, why had he kissed her?

  It was explained for her, however, before they left the terminal, when Kyle waved at a couple of associates and stopped to talk briefly to another. Layne was furious at having allowed herself to be used; Kyle had only been impressing his acquaintances with his image as a family man.

  “Let’s stop at North Winds,” he suggested as they walked out to the car. “I think a small celebration is in order since we got rid of the crutches.”

  “Got another cast, though,” Robbie said. He was proudly carrying Kyle’s briefcase.

  “Dr. Morgan seems to have lost his mind,” Layne added. She was still a little shaky, and staying on a neutral subject was safest. “Robbie promised to be very careful of the cast, and Dr.

  Morgan believed that he meant it.”

  “Is the ankle healing?”

  “Yes, but he wants the walking cast on for three more weeks.”

  “My summer will be all gone,” Robbie mourned.

  Kyle put Robbie into the back of the little station wagon and stretched out in the passenger seat.

  “Don’t you want to drive?” Layne asked.

  “Why should I? You’re perfectly capable. How’s the Beast, Robbie? Has he recovered

  from his adventure?”

  “He’s okay.” Robbie’s tone was wary. He caught Layne’s eyes in the rear-view mirror; he looked scared. “Dad...”

  “I suppose he’s been sleeping on your bed?”

  “Well. . .” Robbie searched for a way out, then blurted, “No, sir. He’s been under it. Mom didn’t know.”

  Layne could feel Kyle watching her, and she fought against letting herself go red with embarrassment.

  “Of course your mother knew, Robbie,” he said finally. “Mothers always know.”

  Now we’re both in the soup, Layne thought. I wonder what the price will be.

  “Are we still going to North Winds?” she asked as they approached the freeway exit that led to the shopping center.

  He looked surprised that she had asked. “Of course. If we expect Beast to stay off the human-type furniture, we’ll have to buy him a bed of his own, won’t we?”

  “Daddy!” Robbie screamed his happiness and tried to fling his arms around Kyle’s neck.

  “Robbie, for heaven’s sake,” Layne protested. “What made you change your mind, Kyle?”

  “I had a dog once, too, as my father reminded me over the phone this morning. Killer was a lot of company for me.”

  “Stephen told me the dog would get out of his pen and come over to play with you.”

  “They never did find out how he escaped.” She must have looked suspicious, for he

  laughed. “All right, I admit it. I taught him to climb the fence. He was a slow learner, but once he knew that trick there wasn’t a pen in Mission Hills that could hold him.”

  Layne parked the car. “It won’t take all three of us to choose a dog bed, will it?”

  “Why? Want to look for something else?”

  “Yes. I’ll meet you in the main lobby, by the goldfish pool.”

  “Make it Felicity’s and I’ll buy you a drink
.”

  “They won’t let me into Felicity’s dressed like this.” Layne looked down at her printed shirt and faded jeans. She hadn’t dressed up to meet Kyle; what was the use? He’d have laughed at her effort to impress him.

  “Yes, they will. Just tell them you’re with me.”

  She could go into Felicity’s in a wet bikini if she was with Kyle, Layne fumed as she

  walked on down the mall.

  The money Stephen had given her was burning a hole in her pocket. Despite what she had said about not wanting or needing new clothes, her pride was beginning to smart. She didn’t want to show up at the governor’s garden party in her old blue sun dress. It might embarrass Kyle, but it would also embarrass her, and Layne was beginning to hate looking dowdy next to Jessica. And after all, as Kyle had said, even inexpensive clothes came in flattering colors.

  Half an hour later, though, she was tired, frustrated and ready to cry. She’d been through two whole department stores, and there was nothing in either one of them which was

  inexpensive, flattering and the right size.

  The money that had looked, like a fortune an hour before lay heavily in her pocket as she walked past three boutiques on her way to Felicity’s. She knew better than to even look at the windows. If she saw something she liked, it would be far above her price range. Besides, one of those boutiques was Jessica’s. And the way Layne’s luck was running, she’d choose it for sure.

  The old blue sun dress would have to do. There was no other choice. She would not ask

  Kyle for the money to replace it.

  Robbie was sipping a Shirley Temple and chattering to an indulgent Kyle, who was leaning back in his chair and lazily stirring a Scotch and water. He looked up as Layne approached the table and got to his feet to hold her chair.

  “A Tom Collins for the lady,” he told the waiter.

  “You should see what we got, Mom,” Robbie said. “Beast will love his new bed. It’s blue velvet and everything.”

  “Surely not velvet?” Layne looked questioningly up at Kyle.

  He nodded. “Only pampered pets shop at North Winds.”

  “He’d be just as happy with a blanket on the floor, Kyle. And I didn’t know they made dog beds big enough for a sheepdog.”

  Kyle snapped his fingers. “Is that what Beast is? All this time I’d been thinking he was just a mutt.”

  Layne smiled reluctantly. “Well, he’s at least half sheepdog.”

  “He needn’t apply for membership in the American Kennel Club. And by the way, I tried

  to talk Robbie out of the purchase he made for you.”

  “Oh?” Layne’s voice was cool.

  “Not because I didn’t want you to have it. But it’s about eight sizes too large, and I didn’t want you to be mad at me.” He looked her over closely, and Layne was thankful that her drink arrived just then. By the time she had taken her first sip, Kyle seemed to be finished with his assessment.

  “I’d say you’re still about a size five,” he concluded. “Robbie’s purchase is probably an eighteen.”

  “You’ll love it, Mom.” Robbie rummaged under the table and came up with a bag

  emblazoned with the name of the pet store.

  Layne tore it open and pulled out a bright yellow T shirt with a picture of a sleepy Persian kitten on a velvet cushion. The cat was thinking, I am an Aristo-Cat.

  “Thanks, Robbie,” she said. “It’ll make a perfect nightshirt.”

  “See?” Robbie told his father. “I knew it was the right size.” He ate the fruit out of his Shirley Temple and said, “When am I going to get my computer?”

  “Robert!” Layne said.

  Kyle was undisturbed. “As soon as you can convince me that you need one.”

  Robbie thought it over for a moment. “How can I convince you?” he asked reasonably.

  “You won’t even come and see the one I want.”

  Kyle looked at Layne with a raised eyebrow. “Go on,” Layne said. “I’ll be along when I’ve finished my drink.”

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind...” But they were gone before she could reply.

  Even inexpensive clothes come in flattering colors. Layne stared into her glass and thought about it. Perhaps it was just the new mall that was so expensive. She had several days before the party. Perhaps she could still find something.

  “Mind if I sit down for a minute?” Jessica Tate didn’t pause for an answer before taking the chair opposite Layne. She lit a cigarette, flicking the gold lighter carefully so she didn’t damage her perfectly manicured nails. “Shopping for clothes, Layne? That’s a perfectly interesting ...

  garment you were showing Kyle a moment ago.”

  Layne didn’t answer.

  “Perhaps you’d like me to take you to my boutique. I’m sure we could come up with the

  appropriate clothes for you.” Even for you, the undertone said. The hard blue eyes focused on Layne’s man-tailored shirt.

  “Thank you, Jessica, but I believe I can shop for myself.” It was an effort to keep her voice steady.

  “Whatever you like.” Jessica shrugged and stood up. Her little red dress, trimmed in white, was simple and well cut and perfect for an afternoon of casual shopping. It had probably cost more than Layne’s whole wardrobe. “Tell Kyle I’ll drop in for an after-dinner drink tonight, to welcome him home.”

  What is the use? Layne thought when Jessica had gone. She stared into the bottom of her glass and fought to keep the tears out of her eyes. No matter what she wore, it could never compare to what Jessica had. The blue dress would be plenty good enough. At least then no one

  — especially not Kyle —would think she was trying to compete with Jessica.

  CHAPTER TEN

  She wished Stephen and Robbie would come down to dinner more often, Layne found

  herself thinking by the time dessert was served. The mood at the table had been almost rollicking, instead of the silence she and Kyle usually shared.

  Stephen winked at her as the maid put a generous serving of baked Alaska in front of him.

  “Is this a trial run for Cam Howard’s party?” he asked. “My compliments to the lady in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Layne murmured. As far as she was concerned Mrs. Kirk had a job. The

  meringue atop the dessert melted in her mouth.

  “When are we going to another Royals game, Dad?” Robbie asked.

  “Next week when they get back from the West Coast. Is that soon enough?”

  “Okay,” Robbie said with a flourish of his spoon. “And can I have my birthday party at the zoo?”

  If Robbie expressed the desire, Layne thought, Kyle would probably buy the zoo for his birthday. The light in his eyes tonight as he watched his son twisted her heart.

  “October will be a little late for a zoo party,” Kyle said. “We’ll see, Robbie.”

  “Mom will figure it out. She makes the best birthday parties,” Robbie told him. “Last year we filled the whole house with balloons. I helped blow ’em up. Can I have balloons this year, too, Mom?”

  Their eyes met across the length of the table, Layne’s big and brown and pleading, Kyle’s dark blue and cynical.

  Then he frowned as he noticed the orange dress she was wearing. Layne lifted her

  shoulders in a tiny shrug; she had warned him, after all, that he would probably get tired of seeing Clare’s dress. Though they didn’t dress up every night, it was still the only thing she owned which was suitable to grace the dinner table at Wheatlands, and he had certainly seen it often. Well, if it bothered him, that was his problem.

  “We’ll see about the balloons when your birthday comes, Robbie,” she murmured.

  “Why is the answer always ‘We’ll see’?” Robbie complained, but he turned his attention to his dessert.

  “Because October is a long time off, and lots of things might change by then,” Kyle told him. He turned to Stephen. “Since you mentioned the lady in the kitchen,
I think I’ll pay my compliments to Mrs. Andrews in person. She’s outdone herself tonight. Is there anything you’d like me to tell her?”

  Layne swallowed hard.

  “It isn’t Mrs. Andrews,” Robbie volunteered, cleaning his plate. “Morn fired her because she was mean and nasty.”

  Kyle’s gaze rested thoughtfully on Layne. “Then who do we compliment for the excellent food? Layne? I didn’t know you had so many domestic talents, my dear.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Kyle, but the credit isn’t mine,” she said quietly as she pushed her chair back.

  “Then I really must meet the person in the kitchen.” He left the room with Robbie trailing behind.

  “I wouldn’t worry,” Stephen told her. “He’s far more interested in the leftovers than the cook’s credentials. As a matter of fact, the leftovers – or lack of them – are the cook’s credentials.”

  Layne laughed. “Shall we have coffee or wait for them?”

  “Oh, let’s have coffee. It may be hours before they’ve finished sampling.” He propelled his wheelchair towards the library.

  As they entered, Jessica Tate looked up from the magazine she was flipping through. She had carefully arranged herself in a casual pose in one of the deep upholstered chairs in front of the fireplace.

  She was wearing a snappy cocktail dress in teal blue with a single shoulder strap. Few women could have carried it off, but on Jessica it looked dashing. Her hard blue eyes took only an instant to inspect Layne from head to toe. “Oh, dear. I suppose I should warn Cam.”

  Layne ignored the thrust. It’s jealousy, she told herself; Jessica had assumed she would be Kyle’s hostess, and she was getting even. At least there was something about her that Jessica was jealous of; knowing that made Layne feel better. She crossed the room to where the coffee tray stood.

  Jessica followed her. “Why did you even come back?” she asked in a low, tight voice.

  “Don’t you understand you aren’t wanted at Wheatlands?”

  Layne ignored her. She poured Stephen’s coffee and carried it to him.

  He looked unhappy, though she didn’t think he could have heard Jessica’s last remark.

  When she offered him the coffee, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, dear, but I’m more tired than I thought. If you’ll excuse me?” His eyes shifted from her to Jessica and back.