Still the One

by Robin Wells

  Annette decided to preempt Gracie’s not-my-mother speech. “Dorothy, Harold, this is Gracie,” she said quickly.

  “Gracie, your mom is one of my favorite people in the world,” the little old lady said.

  Gracie scowled and opened her mouth. Uh-oh. Here it came.

  But Dorothy didn’t give her a chance to speak. “Katie’s the godfairy of my great-grandchild,” she continued.

  Gracie’s brows pulled together. “Godfairy?”

  “She means godmother,” Annette translated. Dorothy had a knack for mangling the English language. “Dorothy’s granddaughter is Emma Jamison.”

  Gracie’s eyes widened. “The Emma Jamison? The one on TV?”

  Annette nodded. “The one and only.” Emma was the star of a nationally syndicated show called The Butler’s Guide to an Organized Home. She’d first gained notoriety when she’d unwittingly become embroiled in a terrible sex scandal involving the death of the president-elect, but Gracie probably had been too young to have understood much of that.

  “Emma and Katie are boffers,” Dorothy volunteered.

  “What?” Gracie’s eyes rounded.

  “I think she means BFFs,” Katie supplied quickly. “We’re best friends.”

  “Oh. Wow.” Gracie looked at Katie as if she was revising her opinion upward. “Emma’s really famous.”

  And today’s youth equated “famous” with “wonderful.” Hopefully, some of Emma’s shine would rub off on Katie.

  “Emma moved here after that awful scandal,” Dorothy volunteered. “Katie was one of the few people who believed in her and stood up for her. And Katie helped her start her own business.”

  Gracie shrugged, trying hard not to look impressed.

  Katie turned to Dorothy and Harold. “I understand you two are going to join Emma and Max in Italy.”

  Dorothy bobbed her head. “Yes. Harold and I are meeting up with them in Rome in a few months.”

  “I can’t wait to show my bride the Trevi Fountain by moonlight,” Harold said, taking Dorothy’s hand.

  “Bride?” Gracie looked from one to the other. “Did you two just get married or something?”

  “Practically.” Dorothy batted her eyes at Harold. “We’ve only been married three years.”

  “Wow. I never knew old people got married.”

  “You’re never too old for love, sweetie,” Dorothy said.

  Gracie wrinkled her nose, as if the very concept was disgusting. “Whatever.” She shifted her purse over her stomach. “So who do I talk to about maybe getting a job here?”

  “Mrs. McCracken. She’s in the business office on the first floor. She’s so much nicer than that awful old biddy who ran the place when Emma was here.” Dorothy linked her arm with Gracie’s. “Come on, dear, and we’ll show you where she is. Your mom needs to get down to the salon in a few minutes, because that old sourpuss Iris Huckabee is sitting outside the door with her stopwatch, and she’ll complain through her entire shampoo and set if Katie is one minute late.”

  “Thanks, Dorothy—Harold. I’ll see you later.” Katie waved as the elderly couple escorted Gracie out of the room.

  “Gracie’s a real firecracker,” Annette said.

  Katie grinned. “She is, isn’t she?”

  “She looks just like you.”

  Katie dropped her eyes, embarrassed.

  “It makes me wonder…” Annette stopped herself.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Annette picked at a piece of lint on her blanket. Why, oh why, had she opened her big mouth?

  Katie gently placed her palm over Annette’s hand. “I thought about it, too. If Paul and I had had a child, would she be like Gracie?”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “And now you’re thinking it’s so sad we’ll never know.”

  Annette smiled at her. “When did you become a mind reader?”

  “I didn’t have to read your mind. I’ve been thinking the same thing.” Katie sat on the side of the bed and took her hand. “I’ll tell you something I wouldn’t have predicted—seeing Dave here.”

  “Me, neither.” She glanced at the roses he’d brought the day before. He’d conned a nurse into providing an empty pitcher to use as a vase, then popped back in her room to set the flowers on the windowsill. “He says he wants to make amends.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That he’s a day late and a dollar short.” Annette wanted to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable topic of her ex-husband. “Gracie is a lovely girl.”

  “Don’t let her hear you say that. She’d probably go pierce her other nostril, her lip, and her tongue just to prove you wrong.”

  Annette grinned. She’d seen a lot of rebellious teens during her years of teaching high school English, and her heart always went out to them. A lot of pain and confusion hid behind their attitudes of defiance and detachment. “That girl’s got a lot to cope with—losing her parents, moving to a strange town, and being pregnant.”

  “Yeah. It is a lot.”

  “You’ve got a lot on your plate, too, Katie. A daughter! And a grandchild on the way.”

  “That’s a hard thought to wrap my head around. I’m going to be a grandma at the ripe old age of thirty-five!”

  And Annette would never get to be one, since Paul had been her only child. The thought was a fresh stab of grief.

  “So what’s Gracie’s father like?” she asked to change the subject.

  “He’s okay, I guess.” Katie’s cheeks colored and her eyes darted away in very un-Katie-like fashion.

  Was she just uncomfortable discussing this man with her, or did Katie have feelings for him? “Is he like you remember him?”

  “In some ways, but not in others. I mean, it’s been over seventeen years.”

  “A lot happens in that amount of time.” It was only normal that Katie would have had romantic involvements before she’d met Paul—after all, she’d been twenty-nine when she and Paul had married—but the thought still disturbed Annette. Which didn’t make sense. Paul had had girlfriends before Katie. “So… did you love this Zack?”

  “I thought so at the time. But I was just a kid.”

  “How do you feel now?”

  “About how I felt back then?”

  She was more curious about Katie’s current feelings, but she didn’t want to ask, so she nodded.

  Katie lifted her shoulders. “It seemed real at the time.”

  Which was only natural. The tightness in Annette’s chest loosened. “I don’t imagine you two have very much in common anymore. Isn’t he some kind of jet-setting poker whiz?”

  “He was. Zack doesn’t play professionally anymore.”

  Was she imagining things, or did Katie sound defensive?

  “He runs a risk-management consulting firm now,” Katie said.

  Apparently he hadn’t evaluated risks too well as a teenager, Annette thought dryly. But then, who did?

  An unusual awkwardness filled the air. Katie rose from the bed. “I’d better get down to the salon before Iris has a cow. Do you want me to help you get up or anything before I go?”

  “No, dear. The physical therapist will be here in a moment.”

  “Well, then, I’ll see you later.” Katie leaned down and kissed Annette’s cheek, then headed for the door. She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “You’re looking good,” Katie said. “When I walked in, I noticed that you had color in your cheeks for the first time since your surgery.”

  “Thanks, dear.” Annette saw no point in telling her that the flush on her face probably had less to do with her improving health than Dave’s visit.

  She leaned back against her pillow and sighed as Katie closed the door. When had everything in her life gotten so mixed up?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Zack looked up from his computer as Gracie walked into the house at five-thirty that evening. “How was your day?”

  “Okay, I guess.” Gracie shrugged. “I fil
led out an application to work at the old folks home. They have two job openings—as recreation assistant, and as a waitress in the restaurant.”

  Zack rose and followed her into the kitchen. “Sunnyside has a really nice restaurant.”

  “Yeah. Apparently Emma Jamison jazzed it up when she worked there. Did you know she lived here?”

  “Yeah, I did.” Emma’s scandal had been all over the papers three years ago. That was actually when Zack had looked up Katie and learned that she was married.

  “She and Katie are best friends.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Yeah. Katie’s godmother to one of her kids.” Gracie opened the refrigerator door. “There’s nothing to eat in here.”

  “There’s a basket of fruit the real-estate agent left on the counter.”

  “That’s all that’s in the house?”

  “Yeah. We need to go to the store.”

  “I can do it if you give me the keys to your car.”

  “Do you have a license?”

  Her eyes shifted away. “Sort of.”

  “How do you ‘sort of’ have a license?”

  “I have a learner’s permit. My dear, sweet, trusting aunt wouldn’t let me go get my license on my birthday like all the other kids because she didn’t think I was”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“ ‘mature’ enough.” She rolled her eyes. “But I took driver’s ed and I know how to drive, so I can go to the store and back.”

  Zack shook his head and sat down on a barstool. “Sorry. I believe in obeying the law.”

  She sighed and moved to the fruit basket on the counter. “Laws are just a bunch of stupid rules.”

  “They’re there for a reason. And there are some awfully bad consequences to getting caught.”

  She tugged at the red cellophane. “Sounds like you’ve had personal experience.”

  Might as well tell her. “I got arrested once, and I ended up in juvenile detention.”

  “Wow.” She froze in mid-rip and looked up. “So you have a record?”

  “No. It was sealed when I turned eighteen.” At least his uncle had had the decency to see to that. He’d had no compunction about letting Zack take the fall for his son’s illegal drug posession, but he’d cleared his record.

  Gracie finished tearing off the cellophane, then looked up suddenly. “Hey, I have an idea. You can take me to the DMV!”

  It was the first sign of real enthusiasm that he’d seen on Gracie’s face—which made it an enormous bargaining chip. “I’ll tell you what. If you get a job and start acting like a decent human being around Kate, I’ll let you get your license.”

  “No shit?”

  Her eagerness made Zack grin. “You’re going to have to start talking in a more ladylike manner, too.”

  She picked up an apple. “Yeah, well, I’m not a lady.”

  “You’re not a sailor, either. If you want your license, you’ll clean up your language.”

  “For how long?”

  “Forever.”

  “When I turn eighteen, I can do what I want.”

  “Work with me on this, and you might get a car out of the deal.”

  “For real? When?”

  How long would be a significant amount of time to demonstrate real behavior modification? “If you treat Kate with respect, get a job, take care of yourself and that baby you’re carrying, and watch your mouth, I’ll get you a car next month.”

  “A month! That’s way too far away.”

  He’d forgotten how time seemed to drag to a teenager. He’d been sentenced to juvenile detention for three months, and it had seemed like a lifetime. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  “But it sucks.”

  “At this rate, you’re never going to get a car.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the word sucks.”

  Zack shot her a look.

  She blew out a sigh. “All right, all right.”

  “Okay. The clock starts now.” Zack looked at his watch. “At five-thirty on August twenty-fifth, you can be picking out a car, if you abide by the rules. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Katie juggled the large, plastic-wrapped bowl of salad in one arm as she pressed the doorbell on Zack’s front door, then drew a deep breath, trying to quiet her nerves. Get used to it, she told herself. If she was going to share custody of Gracie, she was going to have to get accustomed to seeing Zack.

  She didn’t know why, exactly, she felt so on edge around him. No, that wasn’t quite true. She knew, all right, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it.

  She was attracted to him. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her head. Well, so what? Lots of women were attracted to men. That didn’t mean anything had to happen between them.

  The door squeaked, then Gracie stood in the doorway, backlit by a lantern hanging down in the entryway.

  Was it Katie’s imagination, or was Gracie’s expression a little less sullen than before? Katie smiled. “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  It wasn’t her imagination. It was definitely a more cordial hey than she’d gotten before. Gracie pulled the door wide and stepped back to let Katie enter the foyer.

  “Hi, Kate.” Zack stepped forward and kissed her cheek. It was a friendly greeting, nothing more, but his clean, soapy scent and the rasp of his five-o’clock shadow against her cheek made her feel things that were decidedly more than platonic. She held out the bowl. “I brought salad.”

  “Great.” Gracie took it from her. “I’ll put it in the fridge until the pizza arrives.”

  Zack gestured toward the living room. “Come on in.”

  Katie stepped into the living area, struck again by the beautiful decor. “I can’t get over how lovely this place is.”

  “Not the bedroom that was supposed to be mine,” Gracie said. “I’m in the so-called guest room because the room the designer did for me is a piece of crap.”

  Zack frowned at her.

  Gracie winced. “I meant to say, ‘The decor is not to my liking.’ ”

  “Much better,” Zack said.

  Katie looked curiously from Gracie to Zack. Gracie shot him an anxious look. “That one doesn’t count, does it?”

  Zack grinned. “I think we can make an allowance for an adjustment period.”

  “Good.” Gracie opened the Sub-Zero refrigerator, stuck the salad bowl inside, then slammed the door.

  “Well, I’m going to my noncrappy room. If you two will excuse me, that is,” she added with exaggerated politeness.

  “Of course,” Katie said, not sure what to make of Gracie’s behavior.

  She watched Gracie head up the stairs, then turned to Zack. “What’s going on? Did you perform some kind of personality transplant?”

  His mouth curved into a grin. “No transplant. Just a bribe.”

  “What?”

  “I promised her a car if she shaped up.” He made it sound offhanded, as if getting a teenager a new car was no big deal.

  For some reason, his nonchalant attitude ran all over her. “You should have discussed that with me, don’t you think?”

  He looked bewildered. “Why?”

  Katie put her hands on her hips. “Because if we’re going to share custody, we need to discuss major decisions.”

  “I didn’t think it was that major. She’s going to need a license and transportation.”

  “A car is expensive.”

  “Not a problem.”

  The answer shot her temper into the red zone. “For you, maybe. I don’t have your deep pockets.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to pay for it.”

  “If we’re going to share custody, I should pay half.”

  “No, Kate. Things aren’t going to work like that.”

  Who was he to say how this was going to work? He didn’t have a monopoly on setting the rules. “We haven’t discussed how this is going to work.”

  “Fine. Let’s discuss it.” He fixed his dark eyes on her. “She’ll split he
r time between your home and mine, and I’ll take care of all Gracie’s expenses.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Why not? I’ve got the resources.”

  And you don’t. He didn’t say it, but it was implied all the same. She wasn’t broke. She made a good living, and she had Paul’s life insurance money. But that wasn’t really the issue. She wasn’t quite sure what the issue was.

  “There’s no reason to make this complicated,” Zack said.

  Damn it, it was complicated. There were plenty of reasons he shouldn’t foot the bill for everything—good reasons, she was sure—but she couldn’t come up with any at the moment, so she stated the one that was on the top of her mind. “I don’t want to be beholden to you.”

  “You wouldn’t be.”

  “I would feel as if I were, if you’re paying for everything.”

  “Kate, I have plenty of money.”

  “This isn’t about money. It’s about us each handling our fair share.”

  “You’ve already more than done your share. You went through the pregnancy. You gave birth. You’ve worried about her all this time, while I didn’t even know she existed. This is the least I can do, and I want to do it.”

  Why couldn’t she just let him? She didn’t know, but she shook her head all the same. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because… It feels as if you have all the control.”

  “This isn’t about control.” He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the green facets around the pupils of his blue, blue eyes.

  “It feels like it is.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” Whenever I’m around you, I feel out of control. I think things and feel things I don’t want to think and feel. She straightened her back, trying to steel herself against the pull she felt toward him. “Because it feels like you’ve swept in and made all the decisions and moved a block away from me and turned my life upside down and I haven’t had a say in anything.”

  “You have plenty of say, Kate.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Look—if you don’t want her to have a car, I won’t get her one.”

  “I can’t very well take it away from her if you’ve promised it.”

  “She won’t have to know you’re the one saying no.”