Maybe Baby

by Lani Diane Rich

  Oh thank God.

  Nick met her eye through the window. He nodded toward Simon, and Dana nodded back, knowing what he needed her to do. She stepped closer to Melanie, keeping Simon’s attention away from the door behind him.

  “I think I’ve had enough of this,” Melanie said, backing away from Simon. Dana grabbed Melanie’s arm, turning her so that her breasts were facing Simon.

  “She did it,” Dana said. “She double-crossed us. She’s a big, fat double-crosser.”

  “Hey!” Melanie shrieked. “I am not fat!”

  Simon’s eyes narrowed and locked on Dana. “What are you playing at here, pet?”

  “Nothing,” Dana said. In her peripheral vision, she could see Nick rising at the back door, waiting on her signal to jump in. “She took the bird and sold it and kept the money for herself. I think you should shoot her.”

  “What?” Melanie screamed, turning to Dana. Dana tossed Melanie at Simon, who instinctively reached out and caught her. At that moment, Nick burst in, tackled Simon and brought him to the ground, sending the gun skittering under the table. Nick landed two quick punches before Simon pushed him off. Melanie scrambled across the room to Dana’s side. Dana reached down and pulled her up as the men fought.

  “What the… hell was… that?” she said breathlessly, swiping at her skirt.

  “A little fun,” Dana said. “Mostly distraction.”

  Nick swung at Simon, clocking him across the chin. Melanie clutched at Dana’s arm, shrinking behind Dana like a frightened kitten.

  “What’s going on here?” Melanie shrieked. “Why is that man hitting Nick?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Dana said, trying to move closer to the wine bottle, but Melanie only tightened her grip. “Let me go. I need to help him.”

  “No!” Melanie said, yanking Dana back. “That man had a gun. You have to protect me!”

  “I don’t care about you,” Dana said, yanking Melanie with her as she tried to wrench her arm away. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I thought I’d pay an old friend a visit,” Melanie said, peeking up over Dana’s shoulder to get a glimpse of the fight.

  “Well, go visit her then!”

  Simon gut-punched Nick, sending him back a few feet.

  Dana and Melanie both shrieked, “Nick!” in unison.

  “Hey!” Dana said. “Don’t you call his name!”

  “What? You don’t own him!” Melanie shot back.

  “Good God, Melanie, it was tenth grade!” Dana yelled. “Get over it already!”

  “I should have won that election!” Melanie yelled back. Dana narrowed her eyes at Melanie and opened her mouth to say something when the sound of a gunshot rang through the house, followed closely by shattering glass and Dana and Melanie both yelling, “Nick!”

  ***

  Babs jabbed her metal nail file in the doorjamb, pushing it against the bolt. She couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to go into the cellar with Vivian. It wasn’t until Vivian excused herself to go to the bathroom that Babs caught on, and by then it was too late.

  “I swear, if I have to pick one more stupid lock this week, I’m calling it quits and moving to Florida,” she muttered to herself.

  Something clicked. She pulled on the door.

  Nothing.

  Hell.

  “I can retire. I can live in a retirement community, like all the other retired people, and get old and die cranky.”

  The nail file slipped out of the lock and wedged itself into the wall. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.

  “You have to calm down, Babs,” she coached herself. “You know you can’t pick a lock angry. It just never works.”

  She reached up and dislodged the nail file from the wall. The trick to flipping a lock, her teacher had said, was attitude. Believe you could do it, and you could do it.

  All she had to do was get her zen back. She took in a deep breath and released it, visualizing all the tension in her shoulders flowing out with her breath.

  “Happy thought,” she said. “I need a happy thought.”

  She closed her eyes and visualized Vivian in her favorite leather Gucci duster, tied to a chair, and being dunked repeatedly into a vat of ice water. She smiled, slowed her breathing, and opened her eyes. She slid the nail file into the doorjamb, angled it up under the bolt, and scraped at it.

  Nothing.

  “Damnit,” she said, and tossed the nail file, listening as it clattered down the steps. She crossed her arms over her chest and sulked, staring at the wine bottles shelved by the hundreds before her.

  “Oh, the hell with it,” she said as she got up and trudged down the steps. “There’s gotta be a corkscrew here somewhere.”

  Twenty-six

  Finn pulled the van up to the house, parking behind a silver Lincoln, which was parked behind a red SUV. He shook his head and shot a look at Horshack, who sat on the passenger seat in his cage.

  “Looks like we’re a little late for the party,” Finn said. He put the car in park and stared at the house. It wasn’t too late to turn back. He could probably leave another message for his buyer and push the meet time back. Or find another buyer. It wasn’t too late to—

  A gunshot sounded, and Finn ducked in the van as one of the house’s side windows exploded.

  “Shit.” Finn let out an exasperated sigh and released his seat belt. “All that stuff I told you about loyalty being for idiots and martyrs still stands, Horshack.”

  Finn shot out of the van and up the front steps. He flattened himself against the wall and peeked through the window. Nick and some huge bald guy were scrabbling over a gun on the floor. Off to the side, some Marilyn Monroe wannabe was clutching Dana’s arm and ducking behind her. Finn closed his eyes, swore, and pushed the front door open, knocking into Dana and Marilyn.

  “Hey, who the hell are you?” Marilyn asked as he pushed past her.

  “The village idiot,” Finn said, and stepped into the fight. Nick had his shoulder digging into the bald guy’s windpipe as he bore down on the guy with his weight and struggled with both hands to pry the gun out of the guy’s hands. Finn walked around, gave the guy a swift kick in the nads, and heard the gun drop as the guy cried out in pain. Nick kicked the gun away with one foot, hauled up on his knees, and gave the guy a kick to the head, knocking him out.

  Finn stepped back, giving Nick a little space as he got to his feet. Breathing heavily, he wiped some blood off his lip with his fist and turned his eyes on Finn. Finn grinned.

  “Hey, I have an idea,” Finn said. “But I’ll need some duct tape and an office chair.”

  ***

  Nick narrowed his eyes at Finn, and fury erupted through him. He grabbed Finn by the shirt and bashed him up against the wall.

  “I should kill you now,” he said.

  Finn stared at him in disbelief. “What the hell, man? You have short-term memory loss or something? I just saved your ass!”

  Nick pulled Finn back and bashed him against the wall again. “You stole the bird!”

  Finn threw his arms up. “Yeah. Bird thief. Remember?”

  “You put her in danger,” he said, indicating Dana with his chin. “You could have gotten her killed.”

  “Yeah, and I came back,” Finn croaked, straining against Nick’s arm, “a decision I’m beginning to regret.”

  “Let him go, Nick,” Dana said from behind him.

  Nick exhaled. “Fine.” He released Finn and walked over to get the gun off the floor. He put the safety on and tucked it in the back of his jeans, then looked to Dana. She met his glance, a trace of guilt in her expression. Good.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Dana said. “Really super. You?”

  “Really pissed off.” He took a step toward her, not sure which he wanted to do more—take her by the shoulders and shake her or pull her into her arms and never let go. Instead, he chose to clench his fists at his sides. “What were you thinking, going off
with him like that?”

  “I’ll just go find some rope and get this guy secure before all the yelling wakes him up,” Finn said, heading down the hallway.

  “I was thinking the bird would be here,” she said. “I was thinking it would all be over and I could hole up in front of the television with some Ben & Jerry’s and work on getting really fat.”

  “He could have killed you,” Nick said, the words shooting through his gut as he said them. “Did you even think about that?”

  “Once I got here and the bird was missing, yeah, I thought about that a lot, actually.”

  Nick moved closer to her and looked into her eyes. “Yeah, well, sitting out there, watching you in here with him, I guarantee you I thought about it more.”

  Dana looked away, and Nick knew she got it. He unclenched his fists, and she raised her eyes to his.

  “Nick—” Dana started, but was interrupted by Melanie, who situated herself on Nick’s other side.

  “What exactly is going on here, anyway?” she said, putting her hand on Nick’s arm. “Nick, why did Dana try to get me shot?”

  “I didn’t try to get you shot, you stupid cow,” Dana said. “I was distracting Simon so Nick could come in and save us.”

  “She told him to shoot me!” Melanie screeched.

  Finn returned with the rope and raised an eyebrow at Nick. “Wanna help me out here?”

  “Oh, God, yes,” Nick said, stepping out from between the two women. Finn had just handed him the rope when Melanie spoke again.

  “Who’s that?”

  Nick glanced up to see Melanie looking out the front window.

  “Who’s what?”

  Melanie pointed. “The woman driving off in that van.”

  Finn ran to the front window as the sound of screeching tires echoed from out front. He cursed and banged his fist against the wall.

  “Oh,” Melanie said, pointing one heavily manicured nail at Finn, “was that his van?”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Dana handed Finn the keys to the SUV. She glanced through the back window; Simon was lying on his side, still unconscious, bound at the ankles and knees, with his hands tied to a rope that went around his waist. They’d also bound him around his upper arms and chest, just in case. It had been Finn’s idea to take care of Simon himself, and Dana wasn’t going to argue. No real damage had been done, and explaining the events of the last forty-eight hours to the police was something she’d gladly avoid if possible.

  “Did you get Vivian’s address?” she asked.

  Finn squinted in the sun as he looked at her. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, then,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  She followed him as he walked to the front door of the SUV and opened it.

  “Finn.”

  He turned his head to look at her. “Yeah?”

  She hauled off and punched him hard in the bicep.

  “Jesus!” he said, rubbing his arm. “Give a guy a warning, will ya?”

  “That’s for taking the bird,” she said, then smiled. “Thanks for coming back.”

  “No good deed goes unpunished.” He laughed and shook his head, getting in the SUV. He nodded toward the house. “Now get in there before Blondezilla makes mincemeat of your boy.”

  Dana gasped. “You could tell she was evil? You only spent a few minutes with her.”

  “What can I say? I’m a student of human nature.”

  “I knew I liked you.”

  Finn chuckled and gave a wave before shutting the door and starting up the SUV. Dana took a deep breath and headed back into the house. As she opened the door, she caught Melanie’s whining tones.

  “…don’t understand how you can turn this opportunity down. What can I say to change your mind?”

  “Nothing,” Nick said. He was kneeling on the floor, sweeping up a glass that had broken in the tussle. He looked up as Dana came in.

  “He gone?”

  Dana nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Good riddance.” Nick stood up, emptying the dustpan into the kitchen garbage he’d pulled out into the room. “I think I got everything, but you might want to give the floor a going-over with the vacuum before you walk around barefoot.”

  Dana crossed her arms over her stomach. “Okay.”

  He held her eyes for a moment, then turned to put the garbage, broom, and dustpan away.

  “What if I gave Dana the money to reopen the winery?” Melanie said suddenly.

  Dana turned to face her. “Why are you still here?” Melanie walked toward Nick, who stood in the kitchen, staring at her.

  “I mean it, Nick. I’ll give Dana the money, if you agree to come to California.”

  Dana gasped in horror. “Wait. What?”

  Melanie tossed a smug glance at Dana. “I know you’re in trouble. I know you went to the bank, and they turned you down for a loan to get this place back up and running.”

  “What?” Dana screeched. “How did you—?”

  Melanie raised one eyebrow and smirked. “Bernard Higgins. At the bank. Old friend.”

  “You don’t have friends,” Dana said. “And Bernard Higgins? So very fired.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She turned to Nick. “So, Nick, what do you say? I give her the money, you come out and manage Brigstone for me.”

  “No,” Dana said, her stomach roiling with rage. “He says—”

  “No strings attached?” Nick asked.

  “What?” Dana said, her world going quiet as she looked at Nick.

  He can’t be serious.

  Nick stared Melanie down. “You’ll give her the money she needs, free and clear?”

  He’s serious.

  Melanie’s face lit up. “Absolutely. She won’t owe me a dime.”

  “No. I won’t,” Dana said, shooting a stem look at Nick. “Because he’s not going.”

  Nick kept his eyes on Melanie. “A hundred thousand dollars, Melanie. No taking it back. Once it’s hers, it’s hers.”

  Melanie stepped forward, holding her hand out to Nick. “I’ll have my lawyers draw up the paperwork. It’ll be a gift. I won’t be able to get it back even if I want to.”

  Dana felt her stomach turn. “But… Nick…”

  Nick eyed Melanie. “I know a guy in the city. He’ll draw up the paperwork.”

  Melanie let out a tinkling laugh. “Why? Don’t you trust me?”

  Nick shot her a black look.

  “Fine,” Melanie huffed. “Have him send it to my lawyer, and if he moves fast, we can have Dana on her feet by the end of next week.”

  “Wait a minute,” Dana said, stepping in between them. “I’m on my feet, and I’m saying no.” She turned to look at Nick. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Nick’s jaw muscles worked and he held up his index finger to Melanie.

  “One minute, Mel,” he said. He walked out of the kitchen, grabbed Dana’s arm, and led her outside, closing the door behind them. He put both hands on Dana’s arms and leaned toward her.

  “Dana—”

  “No,” Dana said. She put her hand to her chest, trying to relieve the sensation that it was being crashed. “How can you do this?”

  “Dana, listen to me—”

  “No,” she said. “I know we had a fight, but…”

  Nick glanced inside at Melanie, who quickly pretended she was inspecting her manicure. Dana threw her arms up to release herself from Nick’s grip, and took a step back. “Are you really going to take that deal?”

  Nick looked back at Dana. “Yes, but—”

  “Well,” Dana said, trying to keep her voice even. “Then I guess we don’t have anything to talk about.”

  “We would, if you would just listen—”

  “Am I crazy? Or were you asking me to marry you not two hours ago?”

  Nick’s face tightened. “Yeah. And as I recall, you turned me down and threw me out.”

  “No, I… well, yeah, okay, I did, but you didn’t give me a chance to
…” She stomped her foot and took a breath, trying to get her thoughts together. “You gave me an ultimatum.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “I know. I did. It was unfair, and I’m sorry. But this—”

  “I don’t want to hear about this. I’m horrified that you would even consider this.”

  He huffed in frustration. “Would you let me finish a sentence?”

  “Not if it’s going to end with, ‘I’m going to California with Melanie,’ no.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “You just don’t trust me at all, do you?”

  “Should I?” Dana said, trying to keep the hysteria out of her voice. “You’re about to make a deal with Melanie Biggs, Nick. What’s there to trust?”

  He looked away. “Apparently, nothing.”

  “Well, fine, go on in there and negotiate my life for me, Nick. But don’t expect me to be here when you’re done.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glared at her. “Fine. I won’t.”

  “Fine, go!”

  “I’m going!”

  “Fine!”

  He stomped to the door and slammed it behind him. Through the window, Dana watched as Nick walked over to Melanie and shook her hand. She was very proud of herself that she managed to walk all the way to the winery and get Babs out of the cellar before she burst into uncontrollable sobs.

  Twenty-seven

  Ten days later, Dana knelt on her mother’s terrace and stared into the cage at the two birds nestled together on one bar swing.

  “They’re cute,” she said. “What are they?”

  “Lovebirds,” Babs said, sitting down on her lounge chair. “I’m going to bring them out here every afternoon. They like the fresh air.”

  “Oh, they tell you this, do they?”

  “We speak the language of love,” Babs said with a grin, then sipped her gin and tonic. “Speaking of which…”

  Dana held up her hand in warning. “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “You were going to bring up Nick.”