by Jane Toombs
“If the weather isn’t good, how can you have a picnic?”
“A picnic?”
“Yeah, like in a park or somewhere. I thought it’d be something the baby would enjoy.” He hadn’t planned to ask her to go anywhere when he made the call, but the words just came tumbling out.
“Da—that is, Marie is too young to notice.”
“Wrong. Babies are busy processing the world in their first few months.”
“I’d hate to deprive her.” Her tone held a trace of amusement mixed in with the tartness.
“So?”
“At the moment I work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Tuesdays and Thursdays are pretty much needed catch-up days.”
No mention of weekends. Which meant she was considering it. “How about Sunday?”
“Sunday?” she repeated. In the background he could hear Clara Monroe say something.
“Not so good,” Fay said. “Clara says it’s supposed to rain on Sunday.”
Damn. He should have checked the weather. Would have if he’d had any idea he was going to invite her on a picnic of all things. Chances are he’d wind up working part of Saturday, but he wasn’t going to give up. “Saturday, then. If I get called in, I’ll let you know.”
“I wouldn’t want to interfere with—”
“No interference. Either I’ll be called in or I won’t. With luck we’ll have the picnic.”
“Well, okay. I was just surprised by your call.”
“Yeah, me too.”
He heard her chuckle. “At least you’re still Honest Dan.”
With that she said goodbye and hung up.
He found himself whistling as he put a frozen pizza in the microwave. Later, he put a picture of Fay and the baby up on the refrigerator door.
At work, on Saturday morning, he soon saw there would be no getting away today for any reason. As soon as he could take a break, he called Fay’s number. Again Mrs. Monroe answered. “She had to go grocery shopping and the baby was asleep so I told her to go ahead and I’d stay over here ’til she came back. I can still remember what a hassle it was to shop with a baby in tow.”
“Yes, well, would you please give her a message for me? I can’t get away today.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. And it’s going to rain tonight and tomorrow, so there’s no hope for a picnic.”
“Tell Fay I’ll—” he began, but Mrs. Monroe cut him off.
“I’ve just had a wonderful idea. I do so hate to eat alone, especially when it’s a Sunday dinner. That was always a family day. Why don’t I roast a chicken for you and Fay to share with me and we can have a Sunday dinner picnic indoors?”
“That’s kind of you, Mrs. Monroe, but—”
“You must call me Clara. I finally realized why you looked so familiar. You’re the policeman who was wounded by that dreadful criminal. I saw your picture in the paper at the time. Please say you’ll come to dinner. It’s the least I can do for one of our brave officers.”
Once she put it like that, there was no graceful way to refuse. Dan accepted.
“Fine. I’ll expect you at four.”
He hung up and shook his head. What had started out as a simple phone call to find out how Fay and Marie were getting along had escalated into a picnic and now into a Sunday dinner—with Clara Monroe present. Which probably was just as well.
When he arrived on the rainy Sunday, Fay opened the door to Clara’s part of the house. His heart skipped a beat, but he covered up any emotion by handing her the flowers.
“Oh, these must be for Clara,” she said. “How thoughtful of you.”
They’d been for Fay, but he could hardly say so now.
Should have brought two bouquets. He did have the rattle for Marie, but he’d forgotten and left it in the car.
“You look great,” he told Fay. An understatement.
“Thank you,” she said.
How stiff they both sounded, he thought.
Clara came from the kitchen to greet him and accepted the flowers with delight.
“Dinner smells so good my mouth’s watering,” he told her. Because Clara was here, he and Fay wouldn’t have to confront any unfinished business, which would make it easier for both of them.
He’d understood last night the reason he’d called Fay was because of that unfinished business. Until they resolved their relationship one way or the other, it wasn’t over, but still pending like a case file that couldn’t be closed because all the facts weren’t in.
“Come see the baby,” Fay said to him.
He followed her over to the alcove where Marie lay sleeping in the cradle. Looking down at the little girl he blurted out, “She’s grown!”
“They do, you know.”
“Yes, but so fast?” It’d only been two weeks, after all.
He’d been trying not to stare at Fay, who’d also changed in those two weeks. He’d never before seen her in a dress. Or with her hair the way it was. She was stunning. Sexy. Mouthwatering.
“Well?” she asked, making him realize he’d been staring despite himself.
“Have I now seen you at your best?” he managed to say, keeping it light.
“More or less.”
“I’m overwhelmed.” Which was close to the truth.
She smiled. “I doubt that.”
He grinned at her. “How about impressed?”
“I certainly hope so.”
Clara, who’d gone back to the kitchen, came in again, carrying a tray with three stemmed glasses and a wine bottle. “Sherry,” she told them, setting it down on the coffee table. “Mother always served sherry before Sunday dinner. I got out of the habit when the children came along, but I decided this occasion called for it. Unless you’d prefer something else?”
Dan shook his head. When they all had a filled glass, he said, “To our Sunday picnic.” They touched glasses, then sipped the wine. Dan didn’t care much for sherry, but why should he disturb what was a fondly recalled ritual to Clara Monroe?
Fay wasn’t much of a drinker, of sherry or anything else alcoholic. And she didn’t want to risk drinking any now because she was nursing. But she pretended to sip the wine so Clara’s feelings wouldn’t be hurt.
She glanced at Dan, who, she saw, was trying to look as though he liked sherry. She’d done her best to convince herself it didn’t matter that her pulse had speeded when she opened the door and saw him on the doorstep, but she’d failed. She had to face it, she was glad to see him.
He looked somehow different, perhaps because he was dressed less casually than at the cabin. He wore clothes well, she realized, dominating them instead of being dominated by them as some men were.
Had he liked the change in her? He certainly should have, since she’d had her hair styled, bought herself a new dress and taken extra pains with her makeup. For him, because he’d never seen her as she could be. Now he had. What did he think?
Danny Marie whimpered. Before Fay could rise from her chair, Dan sprang up and hurried to the cradle. The next moment he was back, the baby in his arms, gazing up at him as he murmured, “Hi, there. Miss me? I missed you. You’ve gone and grown on me while I wasn’t looking.”
The baby gurgled and smiled, almost as though she understood every word. Was it possible a child so young could recall a voice? Remember a face?
“Isn’t that nice,” Clara said. “So many men seem to be afraid to pick up babies.” She rose. “I’ll just take a look at the sweet potatoes.”
“I can help,” Fay offered.
Clara waved her back down. “No, not yet. I’ll call you when I’m ready to set dinner on the table.”
Dan brought the baby over to Fay, asking, “Is she hungry?”
Fay shook her head. “I fed her just before you came. She’s getting quite sociable these days. When she hears voices, she wants to be part of what’s going on.”
Dan seated himself on the couch next to Fay, supporting the baby on his knees. “Smart kid. She acts as though she remembers me.”
>
Since the baby was gazing up at Dan as though fascinated, Fay couldn’t argue. “Don’t forget, you’re the first person she saw after she was born.”
“I can never forget that.” He spoke softly, without looking at her. “Or what we—”
Fay cut him off. “Let’s talk about something else.”
He shrugged. “Sooner or later.”
She shook her head. “Never. What’s past is past.”
If she’d said the words casually or flatly, he might have decided she meant them, but the vehemence in her voice was a dead giveaway. She knew as well as he did they had unfinished business.
“What would you call it in your work?” he asked. “A closed file?”
“Perhaps.”
“We keep unsolved case files open for years,” he told her. “And that’s what this is. Unsolved.”
“I’m ready to put dinner on the table,” Clara called from the kitchen.
Fay rose and hurried away so fast he wondered whether she might be trying to run from him.
“Your mama doesn’t want to open her closed file,” he told Marie as he gently jiggled her on his knees. Having the baby close to him warmed his heart. He began humming to her, not at first conscious of the tune he’d picked until he finally realized it was “Bye Baby Bunting” again and stopped humming.
By the time Fay appeared again, to call him to the table, the baby was sleeping. Dan laid her in the cradle, covered her up and strode to the dining room.
He was relieved to see that Clara had already cut the chicken in the kitchen and that he wouldn’t be faced with “carving” just because he was a man.
As they ate, he asked Clara how old the Monroe Mansion was and much of the conversation after that was about the old mansions still standing along these few blocks.
As they were finishing, the phone rang. Clara got up to answer it and, after a few minutes came back into the dining room looking flustered.
“That was my friend, Yvonne Tousignant,” Clara said. “I’d completely forgotten that I’d promised to go to the movies with her this evening. I do hate to disappoint her, because I know she won’t go alone.”
“No problem,” Dan said. “Go with her and enjoy the movie.”
“But you and Fay will be left with all these dishes. Although I suppose you could just leave them for me to—”
“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Fay said. “I know for a fact Dan is an expert at cleaning up kitchens. The two of us will have everything done in no time. Do take in the movie, Clara.”
“The least I can do is offer a helping hand after that wonderful meal you fixed,” Dan said. “Your chocolate cake is the best I’ve ever eaten.”
The older woman looked from one to the other of them and finally gave them a conspiratorial smile. “I understand,” she murmured. “After all, two’s company…”
It wasn’t long before her friend came by to pick her up and then Dan and Fay were left without Clara to chaperone them. Which suited him just fine, but seemed to rattle Fay because she immediately began busying herself with the dishes.
“What’s the hurry?” he said.
“Well, they won’t wash themselves.” Fay sounded edgy.
“No, but the dishwasher will.”
“I meant there’s a lot of cleaning up to do.”
“You didn’t mean being alone with me makes you nervous?”
She shot him a defiant look. “That, too. We have no unfinished business to complete.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You say that, but we do. How about if I agree to start with the unfinished business of the dishes and work up to the other?”
Instead of replying, she handed him a stack of dirty plates she’d stacked.
“Okay, I’ll carry them to the kitchen and you load the dishwasher.”
With two of them working side by side, the table was cleared, dishwasher turned on and the kitchen returned to its normal tidy state.
“I could make more coffee,” Fay offered.
“Not for me.”
“Maybe you’d like another slice of cake.”
“Delicious as it was, no. What I would like is to know how you feel about us seeing each other.”
She eased down onto one of the kitchen chairs. “It won’t work.”
He sat on another. “Why not?”
“Well, for one thing we’re so different.”
“I can’t argue with that, since I’m a male and you’re a female.”
She frowned at him. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Any relationship we might have could never last.”
“So? Nothing lasts forever.”
Glaring across the table at him, she snapped, “What is it you want, then—a one-night stand?”
“How can either of us ever find out what we want if you and I don’t go on seeing each other?”
Fay rolled her eyes. “This discussion is ridiculous.”
“So start a better one.”
She took a deep breath and huffed it out. “Well, I suppose we can still be friends.”
That made him chuckle.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m serious.”
“I guess we can give friendship a try, but you’re evading the issue.”
The baby started to whimper and Fay sprang up to go to her. Dan followed her into the living room, and watched Fay pick her up.
“She’s hungry,” Fay said, leaving the room with the baby and disappearing through a door.
Though Marie had grown, she was still tiny and helpless, needing her mother. Needing him? Dan wondered and sighed. Probably not, even though he felt he still wanted to be in her life.
Because Fay didn’t return right away, he realized she must be nursing the baby in another room. Just as well, since he wouldn’t have been able to watch. Not anymore.
In Clara’s guest bedroom, where she was nursing Danny Marie, Fay told herself it was just as well Clara had taken the picnic out of Dan’s hands. She was far from sure they should ever see each other again, much less without another adult present. Actually, she really wasn’t ready to date any man yet, even though her local doctor had said she could resume all her normal activities.
On Friday, a guy from the office where she was working had asked her to lunch. He was good-looking and seemed pleasant, but she didn’t accept. She’d refused politely, while making it clear she wasn’t interested.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in Dan. But interested didn’t mean she’d date him. He was right about the unfinished business, that was no closed file. Not yet. Though she’d like to believe it one day would be.
When the baby was satisfied, she carried her back to the cradle and joined Dan in the living room.
“Monday morning comes early,” she said, glancing at her watch.
“I’d be the last to deny that,” Dan said. “I’m also good at taking hints.”
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when he rose. Whatever she felt, she found herself walking with him to the entry.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he told her when they stood in front of the door.
“You do not.”
“Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”
This man had a way of making her smile when it was the last thing she intended to do. “Something like that, yes,” she admitted.
“Okay.” He leaned toward her and she held her breath, helpless to move away as she waited for his kiss. A kiss that never came.
Instead he straightened, touched her lips with his forefinger, then opened the door and stepped onto the porch. He looked back and added, “That was a reminder this is far from over.” He shut the door before she had a chance to reply.
What would she have said, she asked herself as she made her way back to the baby. That he was wrong, that there was no place for them to go? That he was right and they had to find some solution? That she’d badly wanted the kiss he hadn’t given her? Th
at if he waited for her to call him, he’d wait forever?
Fay found she actually didn’t know.
Chapter Nine
Not that she was counting, Fay told herself, but more than two weeks had gone by since Clara’s dinner without a call from Dan. He must have meant what he said, that he wouldn’t call again; it was up to her. Maybe he figured time would take care of all the loose ends, but she was no longer so sure.
Not that she intended to disturb the status quo. Commuting to her consulting job three days a week, trying to give her daughter quality time, plus errands and the work she had to do at home was enough for her to handle without complicating her life further.
As far as forgetting about Dan entirely, that wasn’t possible, especially since Clara all too often mentioned “that nice young man.”
Fay’s father hadn’t called either and that bothered her, though she knew it might be because he thought she was in Duluth. Apparently he hadn’t tried Aunt Marie’s number or he would have known Marie was in California. Or maybe he had and decided Fay had gone there with Marie.
I don’t care what my father thinks, she told herself. He doesn’t care about me, why should I care about him? He’s got that woman he told me about to keep him company, the widow he wanted me to meet before he knew about my pregnancy.
Though Fay knew she shouldn’t begrudge her father finding a companion, neither had she cared to meet someone who would be more or less taking her mother’s place.
A loud wail from Danny Marie reminded Fay the baby needed attention and that she’d better get with it or one of her precious days off from work would be gone before she’d accomplished anything.
An hour later, with the baby changed and fed, a load of clothes finishing up in the dryer and her list of shopping made out, Fay was in her bedroom dabbing on lip gloss when the door chime sounded. Could be the man Clara had said was coming by this week to give an estimate for replacing the tile around Fay’s bathroom sink. She ran a brush through her hair and started for the door.
She glanced from the living room window as she passed by, seeing a car parked in front. Still thinking of the tile man, she opened the door and stared. Dan stood on the porch wearing faded jeans and a blue T-shirt with no logo. She struggled with a crazy urge to throw her arms around him.