Love, Albert

by Simmons, Lynda

  “Where did you get an idea like that?”

  “Kira talks, I listen. And what I hear is that you keep them in your purse.”

  “It’s nothing,” Vicky said, reminding herself to be more discreet in the future. “I want to ask your friend Klaus to reset the stones. I just haven’t had time to drop them off at his shop.”

  She took a small velvet pouch from her purse and held it out to her father. “You’ll see him when you play golf. Ask him what it would cost to have these made into earrings.”

  “If you like.” Her father opened the drawstring and shook the rings out into his palm. Two perfect diamonds winked at her in the sunlight.

  “So beautiful,” he said.

  “Not bad,” Vicky said, but couldn’t look away.

  Reid had spotted the set when they found themselves at an estate sale in London, a symbol of a love that had lasted more than seventy years. Vicky admired it, he asked if they could see it and before she knew what was happening he went down on one knee right there in the middle of the shop and asked her to marry him.

  Vicky would never forget the cheers and applause when she said yes. But what else could she do? He was her Heathcliffe, her Romeo, her Rhett Butler and more. She loved him with all her heart. How could she have known then that child seats wouldn’t fit into an MG?

  Case dropped the rings back into the pouch and put it in her hand. “You better take them. Maybe you’ll think of something else you’d rather do.”

  “I’m doing earrings.” She slipped the bag into his shirt pocket. “Get me a price.”

  Vicky stepped outside with her duffle bag, escaping before her father could say anything else.

  “Mommy’s here,” Reid grunted in time to the kids jumping on his chest. “What do you think? Shall we get her?”

  She dropped the duffle bag beside his head. “Don’t even think about it.”

  He laughed. “Well, if we can’t get Mommy, we’ll just have to get the dog.”

  The jumping stopped and two pairs of eyes widened.

  “Boing’s here?” Kira asked.

  “Last I saw, he was working on a bone in the car.” He glanced up at Vicky. “Although he prefers to be called Bo these days.”

  “Bo is good,” Kira said, leading Jason down the stairs and across the lawn to the driveway where Reid’s pride and joy sat sparkling in the sun. A four-on-the-floor, eight cylinder, Tartan Red rag-top MG with chrome wire-spoke wheels. The kind of car that gave new meaning to the phrase, Big Grin Driving, and had caused more arguments than Vicky cared to remember.

  She winced when Kira opened the door and both dog and bone appeared. “You let him have a bone in the MG?”

  He propped himself up on an elbow and smiled at the ruckus on the front lawn. “I covered the seats. But I didn’t know how else to keep him occupied, and I wanted him to be a surprise for the kids.”

  “Not just the kids.” She looked down at him. “You should have told me we’re taking the dog.”

  “We’re not,” Reid said, admiring the fit of her jeans, the cut of her tank top, the sun on her skin. When she folded her arms under her breasts, he honestly tried to stay focused on her face.

  “Then why is the dog here?” she asked.

  He gave his head a shake and got to his feet. “Your mother insisted.”

  “I’m sure the cat will be pleased.” Vicky heard the dog on the front steps. “No,” she hollered. “No! Get down! Get down! Get …” She sighed and scratched him behind his ears. “Oh, you are a bad dog.” She raised a brow at Reid. “I thought you were taking him to obedience school.”

  “I did. But their mandate didn’t blend with his.”

  “Chaos as Fulfillment.” Vicky brushed paw prints from her jeans while the dog ran down the stairs and bowled over both kids on the lawn. “They must have been happy to see you both go.”

  “Seems to be a trend.” He motioned to her laptop. “You’re bringing the office along?”

  “This is not a holiday, remember? And unlike some of us, I cannot take off whenever I please.”

  “Yeah, some of us have it good,” he said, and glanced back at the kids.

  The change in his tone was subtle. Probably would have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But it was harder to slip things like that past a wife, even if she didn’t want to be one anymore.

  She wondered if North Star had balked at giving him the time off, but dismissed the notion as quickly as it came. The owner, Bob McNamara, was a real family man. He’d given Reid a month’s leave when Kira was born, and again with Jason. Vicky knew he’d been truly disappointed when he found out that she and Reid had separated.

  If anything, Bob would have been delighted to give Reid the weekend off. Was probably hoping they’d patch things up along the way, just as her parents were. There was probably nothing wrong at all. But still.

  She crossed to the railing, refusing to think further on it. If something was going on at North Star, it was no longer any of her business. “Did you bring the papers?”

  He joined her at the railing. “Left them on the dresser.”

  “We’ll pick them up before we leave.”

  “We could, but it’s really out of the way. What if I promise to give them to you the minute we’re back?”

  “Just drop them at your lawyer’s.”

  The front door opened and Vicky’s mother stepped onto the porch.

  “If you’ve changed your mind about the dog,” Vicky said. “We can take him to a kennel.”

  “No need. The cat will cope.” Jane plunked the picnic basket on the floor beside Vicky’s duffle and frowned at Reid. “You’re getting thin.”

  He drew her into a bear hug. “Don’t get enough of your cooking.”

  “We can fix that starting today.” She stepped back and nudged the basket toward him. “I made a few things you like, and put in a few bottles of frozen water to keep everything nice and cool. I also threw in a bottle of Case’s wine.” She shrugged. “You never know when it will come in handy. “

  “I don’t believe this.” Vicky picked up her laptop. “Where’s Albert?”

  Reid swung her duffle bag onto his shoulder and gestured to the MG. “All strapped in, and he used the bathroom before we left home.”

  “Good thinking.” She headed down the stairs. “But you’d better get him out again because we’re using my car, remember?”

  He grabbed the basket and followed. “Are you sure you don’t want to take mine?”

  “Quite sure.” She stopped beside her practical silver hatchback, but couldn’t resist a quick glance at the MG. The sun glinted off the bumper and she felt herself smile. If cars could flirt, that one would be doing it right now. But she was not falling for it.

  She dug her keys out of her pocket. “That thing probably wouldn’t make the trip anyway.”

  “It’s just been tuned,” Reid said. “The brakes are new, and the transmission has been completely rebuilt.”

  “About time.” She opened the back door of her sedan and tossed her laptop inside. “I’m sure the dog likes it.”

  He strolled around to the other side of the car. “Almost as much as you did.”

  She bent to unfasten one of the child seats. “I tolerated it.”

  Reid opened the door and bent to undo the other one. “You know, if we took my car, your mother could use yours and we wouldn’t have to move these at all.”

  Vicky shoved a hand under the seatback, searching for the bracket. “Was that her idea?”

  “No, mine.” He rattled the seat back and forth. “I just like the way the fire department installed these. But I’m sure your dad can give the belts a good yank.” He rattled again. “The kids will be just fine.”

  Vicky slid her hand out from under the seatback. He wasn’t right often, but every once in a while—

  “Okay we’ll use your car.” She backed out, grabbed her laptop again and strolled over to the MG. “But only if I drive. For safety reasons, of course.”


  “Of course.” He smiled and opened the trunk.

  She laid her computer beside his suitcase. “Everyone knows how you are behind the wheel.”

  His smile broadened. “Uh-huh.”

  “Plus with you behind the wheel, we’d be taking side roads before you know it. I’m only interested in saving us time.”

  “Time, yes.”

  “Do you have any idea how much I hate it when you do that?”

  Reid laughed and slammed the trunk. “Admit it, Vick. You love this car.”

  “Dream on.” She turned her back and waved Kira and Jason over. “Come give mommy and daddy a kiss.”

  They raced toward her, the dog on their heels. Reid swept Jason up and Vicky bent down to hug Kira while the dog bounced and barked in a circle around them.

  “The wish is working,” Kira whispered and planted a kiss on Vicky’s cheek.

  “Don’t count on it,” Vicky whispered back.

  “What isn’t she counting on?” Reid asked.

  “Nothing,” Vicky said.

  “Yeah, nothing,” Kira repeated and winked at Reid.

  He looked at Vicky but she only shrugged. “Let’s say goodbye to Oma and Opa.”

  The four of them walked back to the porch where Jane and Case waited. “Thanks for watching the kids,” Vicky said. “I’ll call whenever we stop.”

  “Please don’t,” her mother said. “You’ll just fill up the answering machine.” Jane drew Kira close. “Besides, we have plans, don’t we kiddo?”

  Kira nodded. “Big plans.”

  Vicky took a slip of paper from her purse. “I’ll still call. And here’s a list of emergency numbers and television shows they’re not allowed to watch. Please keep an eye on Jason in the garden. Especially with the roses. Someone told me he’s been pulling the—”

  Her father took the slip from her fingers. “Vicky, we’ll read it, I promise.” He took Jason from Reid. “You two just have fun.”

  Vicky blew out an exasperated breath, gave the kids one last hug and kissed her father’s cheek. When she leaned in to do the same for her mother, Jane whispered, “Kira tells me she made a wish.”

  “Do me a favor,” she whispered back. “Tell her wishes don’t always come true.”

  “I will do no such thing. Just because you stopped believing in magic doesn’t mean the rest of us have.”

  “Her disappointment is on your head then.”

  Vicky kissed her and headed for the car.

  Reid opened the driver’s side door with a flourish. “Albert is pleased you’ll be driving.”

  “So is everyone else.” She folded herself into the driver’s seat. Gripped the wheel, moistened her lips, and started the engine.

  Reid buckled himself into the passenger seat. “How can you say you don’t like this car?”

  “Because it’s true. I don’t like it.” Vicky dropped the car into reverse and smiled. “I love it.”

  FOUR

  Pacific Coast Highway. Sweeping blue water, hairpin turns, and fishing villages forgotten by time. The thick morning fog had given way to patches of sunshine, rising temperatures, and headlands ablaze with brilliant orange poppies, bright purple ice plants, and fiery red-hot pokers. Every curve gave a reason to stop, to explore, but Vicky kept her foot on the gas and her eyes on the road, determined to reach Seaport before the sun went down.

  In a few weeks, the highway would be clogged with camper vans and trailers, but for now it was just the MG and the odd logging truck, and she was making good time. They’d stopped once outside Sausalito to put the top down and pull sweatshirts on. But if she’d listened to Reid, they’d have taken at least a dozen detours by now—to listen to seals or take pictures of deer, just as they had on their honeymoon. But this wasn’t a honeymoon. This was a mission with deadlines and schedules, and she wasn’t about to let either of them forget it.

  Reid had finally given up and settled back to read the ash-scattering instructions while Albert sat quietly between them. As ridiculous as it was, she still wouldn’t be surprised if he and Reid had somehow cooked up this whole thing. Albert on his own was bad enough, but when the two of them were together, anything was possible.

  She looked over at Reid. “Did you finish reading the rules?”

  “Yes, but I can’t decide whether Albert’s having us on or not. Something about the chanting makes me very suspicious.” He tucked the page back inside the envelope and propped it up on the console between them. “There’s a beach access up ahead. Why don’t we pull over and read it together?”

  She shook her head. “No time.”

  He laid his arm across the back of her seat. “Come on Vicky, we have to eat. And that water your mom packed should be the perfect temperature by now.”

  Vicky gripped the wheel heading into the next curve. One day up. One day down. That was the deal. But they did have to eat and unfortunately, she’d seen what was in that basket, including the bottle of her father’s wine.

  “There it is,” Reid said when they crested the hill.

  Vicky saw the sign: Turtle Rock Beach

  “Fine,” she said. “We’ll stop for lunch.” But they would not open the wine.

  The access road was narrow and rutted, leading to a parking lot perched on the bluffs above the beach. A weathered wooden staircase went on from there, winding down the side of the cliff to a long stretch of white sand and driftwood, deserted but for gulls, pelicans, and a disgruntled heron.

  Reid stood on the edge, taking in the crashing surf, the moody sky and the smooth, golden expanse of skin between Vicky’s sweatshirt and her jeans as she raised her arms over head to stretch in the sunshine.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, you were right,” she said. “It is time to stop.” Pulling her phone from her pocket, she tapped the screen a couple of times then shoved it back in her pocket. “No signal,” she said. “I should have checked earlier.” She walked around to the back and started unsnapping the domes on the roof cover. “Help me put the top up.”

  They had done this so many times the ragtop was up and fastened in minutes. When the last tab was clipped into place, Vickie grabbed her purse from the floor, dropped the phone inside and walked around to the trunk. Taking out the picnic basket, she stuffed her purse into the spot where it had been and tossed Reid the keys. “Half and an hour and we’re out of here.” She headed for the stairs. “Don’t forget the instructions.”

  Reid tossed his own phone into the glove box. plucked the envelope from the console and carried Albert to the trunk. He opened the leather satchel and stuffed Albert inside. “Wish me luck,” he said, then slammed the trunk and jogged after her.

  The breeze was gentler in the shelter of the cliff and remnants of driftwood campfires dotted the shore. A colony of seals called to them from a rock, and the heron stood perfectly still in a shallow pool, waiting for lunch to swim by.

  Vicky dropped the basket and her sneakers at the bottom of the stairs and raced to the water’s edge.

  Reid picked up both and kept walking. “Any particular spot you want to sit?” he called.

  She leapt back from a wave. “You choose.”

  He dropped the basket where he stood, kicked off his sandals and crossed the sand to join her. “What are you thinking about right now?”

  “The kids mostly.” She inched into the water, following the wave out again. “And Mr. Robinson. The man is impossible.”

  She had been checking her phone so often in the car, frustration had finally driven her to tell him about Mr. Robinson, the mirrors and the difficulty finding someone to take them down.

  “Seems more like the Claytons are unreasonable.”

  “You’ve never seen those tiles,” she said, and quickly jumped back, avoiding the waves again. “The truth is that they’re scared. They included the clause originally because they were horrified by the idea of mirrors above the bed. But last night’s email told me they’re ticking off the minutes until the offer expires. Which is too bad, becau
se if this offer dies, it takes three others with it.”

  “How so?”

  She inched closer to the waves. “Because I’ve got a chain going here. Against all odds, I sold Mr. Robinson a bigger house in Millbrae. Then I sold the Millbrae couple a lovely condo in San Mateo, and the San Mateo family a house in Burlingame.”

  “How is that bad?”

  “Because every one of them is conditional, and the Robinson house is the trigger. If the Claytons’ offer firms up, it will be like dominoes. Four deals, bang, bang, bang, bang. But if it doesn’t,” her shoulders slumped as a wave swamped her feet, “then the whole thing blows up in my face. No deal, no commission.”

  “No house in Milton.”

  She looked over at him. “That, too.”

  She held his gaze, the air between them humming with all the old questions and accusations. Who was right, who was wrong. More importantly, who would win.

  Reid decided to go with what was new instead, and hope for the best. “Let’s say the Claytons walk away. How long do you have to find another buyer?”

  She drew her head back, surprised, and Reid breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she let the fight go too.

  “The conditions have to be waived in a week.” She bent down to roll up the cuffs of her jeans. “Finding someone else to buy that house will take a lot longer than that.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Not bad, just different. ” She turned and started walking back to where he had dropped the picnic basket. “The house was built in the fifties,” she continued. “It has four different levels and looks vaguely like a ship. Porthole windows, flat roofs, and all these little balconies everywhere. Like I said, it’s strange, but there’s close to a quarter acre of property and that’s what the Claytons really want. Eventually, they’ll knock the house down and build something bigger, which will be too bad. With some work and a new decorating theme, it could be a real showplace ”

  She knelt down to open the basket, but Reid took it from her. “You drove, I’ll make lunch.” He flipped back the lid, took out the blanket and spread it on the sand. “Relax and tell me about the house.”

  Vicky sat perfectly still, watching him pull out sandwiches, fruit, the badly wrapped poppy-seed loaf, wondering if she should let him do this. Did serving her lunch qualify as a gray area? Something she needed to avoid?