by Jane Toombs
“That really is a lovely name,” Nell put in as she placed the baby in the cradle. Looking at Fay, she said, “Do you mind if I make myself at home in your kitchen and fix a cup of tea for us all? I find tea soothing.”
When Fay made a move to go with her, Nell waved her back down. “No, no, you stay and watch the baby.”
“She’s even gotten me to drink tea now,” Hank said after Nell disappeared into the kitchen. “Less caffeine than coffee, she claims. Better for my blood pressure.”
Fay gave him a wan smile. Danny Marie was making little sucking noises, as though tasting what was on her lower gum, but she actually seemed to be settling down. When it looked as though the baby was going to sleep, Fay started to relax and realized this was her chance to tackle her father.
“Dad,” she said, “promise me you won’t ever mention marriage or even hint about it to Dan again.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Don’t play innocent. You’re my father, that’s why. Promise me.”
“I’ll promise, if you’ll promise me not to choose another Ken.”
“That’s one mistake I’m not likely to make again. But I want you to know I don’t have any intention of marrying Dan. Or any other man.”
He sighed. “That’s a real shame.”
“Maybe. But it’s my life.”
“I won’t meddle,” he promised. “I just want to see you happy. Never expected to be again myself. I loved your mother and Nell loved Joe. We were both surprised when we found we could make each other happy.”
Though Fay didn’t reply, she was glad Nell had come along for her father. She was also glad he’d told her about how he’d cared for little Fay when she was sick, because it made her better able to understand why he hadn’t wanted her to carry her pregnancy to term. He’d been worried about her and felt helpless to fix everything the way he had when she was a child.
She smiled at him. “It’s okay, Dad. I am happy.”
Later, after they’d left, Fay left the sleeping baby where she was in the cradle and went in the bedroom to get herself ready for bed. Early as it was, she felt exhausted.
With more exposure to Nell, she’d begun to realize her father had found a treasure. Nell was a kind and thoughtful woman who really cared about the man she was going to marry.
The phone rang.
“How’s Peanut?” Dan asked. “Is she better?”
So much for her father not meddling, Fay told herself. How else would Dan have known about the baby?
“She’s asleep. Nell’s gum medicine worked.”
“That’s good to hear. Let me know if anything serious happens.”
She heard voices in the background, then the thin wail of a siren. “Something’s going down,” he said. “No more time to talk.”
There was no chance to get even a word in before he was gone. He might have been busy, she told herself, but, if he cared, he could have taken an extra two seconds to ask if she was okay.
It certainly showed who mattered the most to him.
Chapter Thirteen
Before she left for work the next morning, Fay discovered the top of a tooth was poking through after running her finger over Danny Marie’s sore gum. The baby seemed in much less distress, which made it a bit easier to leave her with Yvonne. Nell and her father had also promised to come by and check on her.
At work, she discovered she’d been right about her client wanting to discuss the New York trip with her. In fact, on his next trip, scheduled for the last week in August, he wanted her to accompany him. Since his wife would also be along because she loved shopping in Manhattan, Fay had no problem with that aspect of the trip. But she cringed at the idea of being so far from her baby for three and a half days.
She’d discussed switching from breast-feeding to a formula for Danny Marie with her doctor, who’d indicated it was up to her if she wished to. Actually she did and, if she decided to make the trip to New York, maybe trying the switch a week or so before would help. But what if something happened to her daughter while she was away? True, Clara was trustworthy, plus her father and Nell would be there to take care of any emergency. Danny Marie was so little, though—never mind how healthy the pediatrician said she was.
She finally told her client she would get back to him about the trip. How was it she’d ever believed returning to work would be a simple matter of finding a reliable baby-sitter? Leaving her baby with someone else, no matter how reliable, was far more difficult than she’d realized. Getting ahead and staying there might be important, but, Fay decided, having a baby skewed her former parameters.
At the end of her day, on the drive home, for the first time in her life, she found herself questioning the precepts her mother had always stressed. “To get ahead, you must set goals, work hard, always do your best. Never let it be said you didn’t become all you could have been.”
Though her mother had never actually said it in so many words, the implication had always been there that Hank Merriweather had failed to live up to these expectations. For some reason, until this moment, it had never occurred to Fay that her mother’s expectations about her father came from a woman who’d never worked outside the home. She’d seemed content to be a housewife, though she did do alterations and make beautifully designed clothes for selected customers.
Was that her mother’s best? The question disturbed Fay, making her wonder if she’d been chosen as a substitute to reach goals her mother had never striven for.
Never mind that she was proud of her accomplishments, did she still believe getting ahead was the most important thing in life?
“I loved my mother,” she said aloud. Hearing her own words made her realize she’d always loved her father, too, even if she’d believed he didn’t have enough drive.
She still loved him. He’d been wrong to hurt her the way he had, but he’d realized that and had told her he was sorry.
Was it possible she’d been wrong, too, in thinking he lacked ambition? After all, he’d risen from an entry-level job at the foundry to become the foreman.
Fay arrived home shaken by this new direction her thoughts had taken. She came into the apartment to find Yvonne gone and her father and Nell with the baby.
“What’s wrong?” she cried, panicking.
“Calm down, nothing to worry about,” her dad said.
“It looks like Danny Marie’s cutting another tooth,” Nell added. “When we came by, Mrs. Tousignant was at her wit’s end trying to pacify the baby, so we told her we’d take over until you got home. I hope that was all right?”
Fay nodded, reassured by the sight of her daughter sleeping in the cradle by the chair her father sat in, one of his feet on the rocker.
“Thank heaven I don’t have to work tomorrow,” she said.
By Wednesday the other tooth had broken through and Danny Marie’s sunny nature resurfaced. Clara, over her sniffles, came to take care of her, so Fay set off, telling herself all was well. Still, a niggling doubt remained and “what ifs?” poked their ugly heads up all through her workday.
Her worry was for nothing. Her daughter remained well.
On Thursday, Fay caught up on all the chores she hadn’t gotten to on Tuesday. In the back of her mind she’d kept expecting Dan to call. He didn’t, and she began wondering if her dad was keeping him posted about the baby. Even if that was true, though, he still could have called to talk to her.
Friday zipped by and gave way to Saturday, when it rained, keeping Fay from taking a walk with the baby. Despite the extra work she’d brought home, the day dragged. Sunday Clara invited her for lunch.
“I wanted to ask your young man, too, but I couldn’t reach him,” Clara said.
“You mean he wasn’t home?”
“I left a message on his answering machine, but he didn’t get back to me. Is he out of town?”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s such a fine man,” Clara said. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but he’
s head and shoulders above poor Ken.”
Fay managed to make a sound of agreement. Clara meant well and she wouldn’t dream of being cross with her. But when she hung up, Fay thought bitterly that Dan could have taken a trip to Mars for all she knew. Or he just might figure a message left by Clara meant he’d have to see Fay Merriweather and so didn’t call back.
Face it, she told herself, he doesn’t care. She hadn’t believed he was like so many men who pursued a woman until they got her in bed and then lost interest. But what else was she supposed to think? True, he had a new case, a tough one by the sound of it, but did that make him too busy, day and night, seven days a week to pick up a phone and say hello?
Of course, despite Dan’s denials, it was possible her father’s hints about marriage had scared him off.
If that’s true, she told herself, then he’s not likely to show up for the wedding on the fifteenth, and I can stop worrying over where the blasted relationship is headed because I’ll never see him again.
Sunday evening, Dan paced back and forth in his crummy downtown hotel room, lonely as hell. He’d never minded undercover work before because he hadn’t had to do much to change his appearance. This time the chief had thought Dan’s face was too well known because of the “hero” coverage, so he had Dan dye his hair a dark blue, stop shaving and then get one ear pierced so he could wear an earring. Add cheap mod clothes, a slouch hat and presto—scumbag Lon Kingery emerged.
Dan hardly recognized his image in the mirror as himself. He was sure even his partner Gary would never give Lon a second look if he passed him on the street. Great disguise, but he really hated the dangling gold earring. He figured once he came out of cover, somehow the guys would hear about the damn earring and razz the hell out of him.
It turned out this case was related to the other, where he killed who they believed was the head honcho, the guy that had shot him first. But the dead perp had been one of two heads. The other was still at large and still running drugs. Dan’s job was to go undercover to ID the guy and find out where he operated from. More or less a secret mission. No one was supposed to know.
Another good reason a cop shouldn’t marry. Wives expected to be told where and why husbands were going to disappear for a couple of weeks. Hell, even if a guy was in any kind of a serious relationship, the woman expected to be told these things. He figured Fay would be teed off with him when he got back. Which would be barely in time for her dad’s wedding.
On the other hand, this forced time undercover gave him time to think. The problem was, when you needed a particular woman in your arms, thinking didn’t do zip. So his feelings for her were complicated enough to scare him at times. So what? He still wanted to be with her.
Sure, he could call her from somewhere around here, even if he wasn’t supposed to, but if he wasn’t going to tell her where he was or why, which she’d certainly want to know, what was the point?
He’d expected to locate the guy before the weekend, but that hadn’t happened. He was close, but so far no cigar. Damn. Even that retro saying reminded him of Fay.
He stopped pacing and sat on the edge of the crummy bed, staring into space, wondering if Fay and Marie were okay. He’d never missed a woman so much in his life. As far as he was concerned, their affair could go on indefinitely.
Until she met someone else. Lots of high-powered types out there roaming around. Her type. Or at least she thought so. He gritted his teeth. Damn it, Fay was his.
Can it, Sorenson, he told himself. That’s anger thinking.
Lon made the ID late Thursday night, managed to attach a tracer to the perp’s car and then abandoned the dingy hotel room for Dan’s apartment, his job done. Dan immediately tried to get rid of Lon. The supposedly not-permanent dark blue hair dye refused to wash out completely under the shower, rendering his hair a sort of pale blue mixed with blond, but he was able to shave and discard the earring. He checked the messages on his answering machine, finding an outdated one from Clara. None from Fay. Looking at his watch he decided it was too late to call Fay tonight.
The wedding was the next day and he’d be seeing her then, so he could explain what he’d been doing in person—better than a phone call any day. Face-to-face, she couldn’t hang up on him.
Even though Fay didn’t want to marry, it’d been his observation that women got all sentimental about weddings and he figured that’d be in his favor. Then, too, it wasn’t really his fault he hadn’t called her. His explanation was perfectly logical.
But, at St. Dunstan’s Church the next afternoon, while the Merriweather-Yates wedding party was waiting for a previous wedding party to vacate the premises, Dan discovered the most logical explanation was useless if you couldn’t corner the recipient to hear it. Fay, looking as lovely as he’d ever seen her in a filmy dress the color of birch leaves in the fall, seemed to have an uncanny ability to move somewhere else just as he zeroed in on her.
He finally caught up to her as they began to file into the church. Holding her arm firmly, he muttered, “Stop trying to avoid me.”
“Why would you think I’d do that?” Her voice was as chilly as a December north wind off Lake Superior.
“Because you are. You owe me the courtesy of listening to me.”
“I owe you nothing.” Her voice rose slightly, causing several of the guests to glance their way.
She bit her lip.
“I had to go undercover but couldn’t tell you. It’s part of my job,” he said quickly.
“I don’t care what—” She paused in midsentence, the meaning of his words evidently belatedly catching up to her, and looked hard at him.
“I guess that explains the blue hair,” she said after a moment.
Deciding to ignore that, he said, “So I couldn’t call or come to see you. Missed you, though.”
“Oh.”
“Finished the job late last night, too late to call you.” His gaze checked her out from head to toe. “You look almost too good to take to bed.”
Her lips twitched as though trying to hold back a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” To his relief, amusement and warmth replaced the chill in her voice.
“The dress you’re wearing makes your eyes turn gold,” he added. He kept to himself what he’d like to do with the dress—tear it off, along with the rest of her clothes and make love all this beautiful Saturday afternoon.
“Where’s Peanut?” he asked instead.
“Clara’s looking after her until the reception’s over.”
“Did the baby tooth come in okay?”
“She’s cut two teeth.”
“And I missed that.”
“Among other things. You really were undercover?”
“If you think I dyed my hair blue because I wanted—”
He broke off as an usher asked, “Bride or groom?”
Momentarily startled, he let Fay answer.
“Groom,” Fay murmured, and the usher indicated which side of the church they were to sit on.
Dan made sure she got an aisle seat so she’d be able to see everything. Sitting next to her, he relaxed for the first time since arriving at St. Dunstan’s. He was with Fay. Nothing else mattered. Noticing she was peering over at the bride’s side of the church, he asked who she was looking for.
“Like you, Nell’s daughter, Jo, didn’t get in from Chicago until late last night,” she said. “I haven’t had a chance to meet her.”
He’d forgotten Nell even had a daughter.
“Do you realize Jo’s going to be my stepsister?”
He hadn’t thought about that, either. All his focus had been on Fay.
The organist began playing a familiar melody, something he vaguely recalled from other weddings he’d been to. The minister appeared from a side entrance. Looking back, Dan saw Hank Merriweather leading his bride-to-be up the aisle.
“Nell looks so happy,” Fay whispered. “Her silver-gray suit really suits her, don’t you think?”
Dan supposed so. Hank l
ooked more smug than anything else. Probably because the man was well-satisfied in his choice of a bride. The groom was evidently as happy as the bride. Wasn’t that how it was supposed to be?
Thinking back to his marriage to Jean, Dan remembered his nervousness on his wedding day. He watched the older couple take their place at the altar.
Fay sighed. “I’m glad they found each other. At first I was only thinking she was good for my father because she cared about him, but I’ve come to realize he’s good for her, too, because he really does love her.”
Fay noticed Dan shift restlessly. Was he bored? No, her glance at him showed her he looked more uneasy than anything else. She focused on the pair at the altar again. How handsome her father looked in his dark suit, his normally untidy fair hair smooth and neat. Dan’s hair was almost the same color—or had been before the blue phase. Of course, Dan had all of his, while her father was slowly balding.
After her father and Nell had exchanged vows, Hank bent to kiss Nell and, all of a sudden Fay’s perception shifted so that for a moment she saw not the older couple, but Fay and Dan standing at the altar, he leaning to kiss her. She shook her head, taking a deep breath. What was the matter with her? To her surprise, tears filled her eyes.
As she dabbed at the tears with a tissue, she heard Dan say, “Why is it women almost always cry at weddings?”
“Why do men get uneasy?” she snapped, angry at herself, but taking it out on him.
“I’m not uneasy. Just impatient to get you out of here and into—”
“Shh,” she said, glancing at the couple next to them. “They’re listening.”
He shrugged. “You still haven’t told me why women cry.”
Fay thought frantically. Never would she reveal what she’d projected up there.
“Um, women often cry when they’re happy. I’m happy for both my father and for Nell.”
“Me, too. But I’m glad it’s over. I suppose we have to stay for the wedding reception, though.”
She wondered if he was remembering his own wedding—and its subsequent failure. “You know we do. So on to the reception.”