by Susan Floyd
“Open it,” she instructed Bernie.
Bernie pulled off the metallic pink bow.
“Good. Now tear the paper.” Beth Ann slowly started to rip the pretty paper and Bernie squealed, pulling off the paper in little chunks.
Christian gazed at Beth Ann and Bernie, tenderness swelling inside his chest. This was what family was about. He studied Beth Ann’s rumpled hair. Even though her nightgown wasn’t the see-through one, he could almost physically feel the soft curve of her breasts. His hands itched to hold them, feel their weight. Bernie laughed as she threw the bright wrapping paper, covering herself and Beth Ann with self-made confetti.
“Let me open the box,” Beth Ann told Bernie, who seemed more intrigued by the pretty pieces of wrapping than the present itself.
“Don’t be mad,” Christian warned Beth Ann.
She looked up at him with her dark eyes crinkling in the corners. She tilted her head. “Why in the world would I be mad?”
She opened the box and gasped. She stared at the contents for a long time.
Christian shifted his weight, even though he knew it made him look defensive.
“I told you to not be mad.”
Slowly Beth Ann shook her head. She licked her lips and shook her head again. “I’m not mad. It’s beautiful. I’m afraid to touch it.”
“It’s just a dress. For her birthday.”
Just a dress. Beth Ann slowly picked up the small hand-smocked garment. It was pristinely, terrifyingly white, with delicate pink and yellow embroidery.
“Pitty,” Bernie said, her hand grabbing the corner of the dress.
“Be gentle,” Beth Ann replied, undoing Bernie’s grip. “Soft.” She used Bernie’s hand to stroke the beautiful fabric. “Soft.”
“Toft.”
“This is for your birthday.”
“Birf-day!” Bernie struggled to get down off the daybed. “Garden?”
“A one-track mind,” Beth Ann said, then addressed Bernie who tottered on her descent to the floor but didn’t fall. “Let’s have breakfast first, sweetie.”
“Beckfast,” Bernie echoed as she searched around the room for her bear. But there was no Fluff. “Fuff?” Bernie called, expecting him to answer.
Both Christian and Beth Ann turned their heads looking for the bear.
“Where’s Fluff?” Beth Ann asked. She looked behind the crib, while Christian looked under it and the bed.
“Don’t see him.”
“Fuff?” Bernie’s voice was full of sorrow, her lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. Fluff couldn’t have gone far,” Beth Ann said reassuringly. “Why don’t you go look in the kitchen? Maybe you left him there.”
Christian looked at Beth Ann puzzled. “He was gone last night.”
Beth Ann shook her head. “I know, but...”
“Where could he be?”
Beth Ann laughed. “Well, you never know. This place is like the Bermuda Triangle.” She paused, finding herself very near him. She could smell his aftershave. She could hear the thumping of his heart. Or was it hers? She looked up, feeling his hand in her hair.
“Wrapping paper,” he said, his voice uneven, his eyes uncertain.
It took nothing for her to step into his embrace. His arms immediately wrapped around her, his hug deep and reassuring.
“Thank you,” Beth Ann said softly. “The dress is beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.”
And Beth Ann believed him, as much as she believed in the gentleness of the kiss he gave her.
PEOPLE WERE scheduled to arrive around noon. It was going to be a small party, but Christian felt the air of anticipation. It was as if the old bungalow knew that company was coming. In the kitchen, he helped Iris pull a beautiful applesauce cake from the oven.
“Thank you so much,” Iris said.
“Don’t mention it,” Christian said, glad the real Iris was back this morning.
“Henry thanks you also.”
“Henry?”
“Yes, Henry. Don’t you see him?” Iris looked at Christian inquisitively. “He’s standing right next to you.”
Christian nodded in the direction of Henry and then glanced at his watch. Iris was starting to make icing, while she waited for the cake to cool, so he wandered into the living room where Beth Ann was blowing up balloons. Bernie was having the time of her life, chasing the bright objects, punching them into the air. As their numbers grew, Bernie became more excited as she struggled to pick up them all at the same time. She looked darned cute in the dress, though he now wondered whether white had been such a good idea. He frowned when he saw her old blue sneakers.
“Sorry,” Beth Ann said between breaths.
“For what?”
“I don’t have shoes to go with the dress. Accessories, you know.”
Christian didn’t know, but he made a mental note to remember accessories in the future. Maybe socks with the little frilly stuff around the ankle, too.
“Watch this, Berns,” Christian said as he took a balloon and rubbed it across her head a few times and then stuck it to the wall.
Bernie squealed and hit it off the wall, then tried to stick it up again.
“You have to rub it on your head,” Christian said and then impulsively ran the balloon over Beth Ann’s hair midblow, her face turning progressively redder. The friction of the balloon made her carefully tamed curls go awry. She just gave him an exasperated look and gave one final blow. He stuck the balloon on the wall and a laughing Bernie hit it down. Then, Bernie made an attempt at rubbing the balloon on her head, but only ended up smashing her face against the latex.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” Beth Ann asked, looking meaningfully at the clock.
Christian glanced at his watch. “Yep. I guess I should go get Max.”
“What time is he landing?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
“So you better go.”
“It’s only twelve-ten. How long does it take to get there?”
“Ten minutes,” Beth Ann admitted. “But you don’t want him waiting around.”
“Why not?” Christian asked, but went in the bedroom to grab his keys.
He came back and paused, his eyes following Bernie, still absorbed in the balloons. He almost wished he had been more assertive with Max. This was a special day, and he didn’t want Max to spoil it. Max had a tendency to be cutting to those he perceived as the less fortunate. It had never bothered Christian before. But now— With a rattle of the keys, he shoved his wallet into his back pocket.
He went up to Beth Ann. “Before I go, I wanted to ask—who’s Henry?”
Beth Ann looked at him blankly and started another balloon. When it didn’t inflate, she pulled on it, stretching it out several times. “Henry?”
“Iris mentioned him.”
Beth Ann nodded with a smile. “He was a very close friend of the family.”
“Was?”
“He died, oh, I don’t know, probably ten years ago.”
“Oh,” Christian nodded. Bernie had Fluff. Iris had Henry. He had Beth Ann. It all worked out perfectly. “This shouldn’t take too long. I’ll take him to the hotel and then we’ll be back.”
“Take your time,” Beth Ann said between breaths. A red balloon was getting bigger. “Fred and Glenn should be here pretty soon.”
He paused again, then leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, sorry the chaste gesture didn’t convey what he really wanted to do, how he really felt, but with Bernie in the room, it would have to do. He laughed when her balloon deflated, but his smile faded after the mock annoyance in her dark eyes turned to an emotion not chaste at all.
Christian muttered goodbye, as an unsettling sensation—a cross between soul satisfying calm and tense physical frustration—emanated through every blood vessel, every vein, every artery, until he shoved his hand in the pocket of his jeans to hide the physical evidence of his own unchaste thoughts.<
br />
EVEN THOUGH Christian was early, Max was waiting for him, a brown leather garment bag slung over his shoulder. He looked just the way he always had at school, smooth and cool, despite the ninety-five degree weather.
“Hey, buddy, long time no see,” Max said as he lay his bag down flat in the trunk of the Jaguar.
Christian waited until Max got in.
“Air-conditioning!” Max looked at him with a shake of his head. “I can’t believe it’s this hot and it’s only noon. What’s it going to be like by five?”
“Hotter,” Christian said briefly.
“Ha, ha.” Max grimaced. “So, how’re you doing?”
“What are you doing here?” Christian asked, getting straight to the point. He knew Max well enough to be sure he had an ulterior motive.
“Aren’t you glad to see me? I’m hurt.” Max feigned a pained look.
“Always.”
“Man, I had to come.” Max stared out into the scenery, at the fast-food restaurants, the open fields and propane store. “This place sure ain’t San Diego, is it?”
“No. But it grows on you.”
“Obviously.”
Christian felt Max’s amber eyes on him. He turned and looked at his old friend. “What does obviously mean?”
“When Christian Elliott calls to tell me he’s extended his stay from a morning to a month, I say, humor the man, he’s had a hard time of it. When he calls again at the end of that month and says he’s staying for two more, I say, get in the plane and find out what’s keeping him here.” Max shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought you might be a prisoner or something. I had to check it out myself.”
Christian held both hands up before placing them back on the steering wheel. “You can see I’m free. How long are you planning on staying?”
“A couple of days.”
“Need to check in to a hotel?” Christian was already turning into the parking lot of the motor inn he’d stayed at when he’d first arrived.
Max made a face when he saw the establishment. “Please, you can do better than this, can’t you?”
Christian just got out of the car.
“Okay, so you can’t.”
Christian was already in the trunk and handed Max his garment bag. “We have a couple of things to talk about.”
“Yeah?” Max’s eyes lit up.
“No. It’s not what you think.”
“So is Caroline’s sister as hot as she was?”
Christian pressed his lips together. This was exactly why he didn’t want Max here.
“Okay, okay,” Max backed down. “So she’s a dog.”
“Don’t say that about Beth Ann.”
“Don’t say that about Beth Ann,” Max mimicked him, his gaze missing nothing.
Christian had never felt so scrutinized.
“So it’s Beth Ann, is it?” Max continued. “I was wondering when you’d get back into the fray. I guess it beats the manual alternative.”
Christian let Max’s words pass. He’d been like that their entire friendship. And Christian admitted he’d once been a willing participant in such conversations. Now, it just seemed crude and he wondered about the cutting edge of Max’s tone.
“We miss you at headquarters,” Max said, as he handed over his credit card to the desk clerk. From the flicker in his eyes, Christian knew he was lying. Christian wasn’t completely out of the loop. When he had talked to Mrs. Murphy to tell her about his change of plans, she had filled him in on things. Max, apparently, was very much enjoying being the man in charge. But he had done no harm, so Christian said nothing.
“I’m not supposed to be back until the end of September. Joe and Pete are supposed to be helping you take care of things. Are they?”
Max spoke noncommittally, “Sure they are. So, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
“I want you to be nice.”
“Nice?” Max looked innocent. “I’m always nice. I’m a charmer.”
“This is Carrie’s—”
“Carrie?” Max raised an eyebrow.
“Caroline,” Christian corrected himself. “This is Caroline’s family. I want you to be on your very best behavior.”
“If you tell me what that is, I’ll be sure to do it.”
“Beth Ann’s daughter is turning two.”
“The D-Tech heiress?”
Christian nodded. “But don’t say anything about that, I haven’t fully negotiated the transaction yet.”
Max shot him a surprised look. “What’s there to transact? It’s hers or it isn’t.”
“Beth Ann doesn’t really want it.”
“That’s what we want, right? Just get it back from her. Easy. You can send her a small stipend every year and promise to put the kid through college.”
Christian shook his head. Max’s logic scraped against his nerves. Would Beth Ann like him? “Just be nice. They’re not like the people we know.”
BETH ANN surveyed the dozens of balloons scattered across the floor, completely satisfied with the way the living room looked. It was definitely worth nearly hyperventilating. Bernie was in color heaven. Beth Ann left her and went into the kitchen to carefully cut the cake in half horizontally. Then with her hand trembling, Iris started the arduous task of frosting her great-granddaughter’s birthday cake. Glenn, who had studied calligraphy, volunteered to do the lettering on it. But they weren’t here yet.
A sharp rap on the screen door had Bernie yelling. “Pop-pop! Fedman! Mommy, mommy, mommy! Pop-pop! Fedman!” Bernie ran around in circles until she fell over, her world whirling around her, the balloons fluttering away as Glenn swung her up and gave her a big kiss.
“The birthday girl!”
“I two!” Bernie told him proudly and held up four fingers.
“Yes, you are two,” Glenn said agreeably. “And don’t you look nice! I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress before.”
“Pitty.” Bernie plucked at the smocking on her bodice.
“Hey, Bethy.” Glenn leaned over and stopped. “Whoa! Who gave you that shiner?”
Beth Ann grimaced. “Iris. Long story.”
Glenn inspected it. “It’s a few days old, but you’ll be wearing it for a while still.”
“Thank you so much.”
He gave Beth Ann a less hearty kiss, his eyes on Bernie’s new attire. “I can’t believe you shelled out the money for a dress.”
Beth Ann made a face. “I didn’t. He did. Can you believe white? For Bernie?”
“Give old Mr. Fedman a kiss,” Fred said, taking Bernie from Glenn, who left with bounding steps to go back out to the car. Bernie wrapped her arms around Fred’s neck and gave him a big kiss, wrinkling her nose at his beard. Fred looked like a big bear, with his furry brown beard and mustache. He was a few inches shorter than Glenn, but his hazel eyes were kind and friendly.
“Tikko.” Bernie giggled.
“The beard tickles?” Fred said and rubbed his beard on her cheek. She shrieked and wriggled to get down, soon intent on chasing a balloon, until she bounced up against the sofa and lay on her back for a rest. Glenn came back with a large box topped with presents. Bernie ran toward the pretty packaging and Glenn lifted her on his shoulders before heading outside for the rest of their things.
“Don’t get her dress dirty,” Beth Ann called. She shook her head at all the packages. “These are too much. Fred, you guys shouldn’t have.”
Fred ignored her comments and leaned over to give Beth Ann a kiss on the cheek. “Time flies, doesn’t it? What happened to your eye?”
“Iris,” she said briefly. “I’ll tell you all about it later. I can’t believe Bern’s two. Just a little while ago, she wasn’t even crawling. Now look at her. She’s going to go to school!”
Fred patted her hand sympathetically. “Not yet, Mommy. Let’s not have her grow up too fast.” Fred looked around the house curiously. “Where’s Christian? I’m dying to meet him.”
Beth Ann flushed. “He went to get his friend at the air
port.”
“Which airport?”
“The one in town. His friend has a private plane.”
“I guess he would now, wouldn’t he?” He gazed frankly at her. “Are you okay?”
Beth Ann nodded as she looked out the window, almost expecting to see the silver Jag. She then glanced up at Fred and said quietly, “I never expected to like him so much.”
“Carrie had good taste?”
“Excellent taste. I know why she liked him—he’s very good-looking, very rich, very charming, polished.” Beth Ann shook her head. “He’s someone I’d avoid with a ten-foot pole. But I like him for different reasons.”
“Which are?”
“He’s kind and he’s just so good with Bernie and Iris. He treats them like they’re people and even though he’s got all the money in the world, he does the best job cleaning toilets I’ve ever seen. And he’s lonely.”
Fred gave her a big hug. “And you’re lonely, too.”
“Is that a reason to fall in love with someone?”
“Well, it’s not a reason, but when you meet someone that makes you feel less lonely, then it’s worth it to fall in love.” Fred stared at her consideringly. “It is love between you, isn’t it?”
Love? Beth Ann felt her face flush at the thought of Christian’s increasingly intimate kisses. She took a deep breath. Yes. It wasn’t just like love, it was love.
With his arm draped casually around her shoulder, Fred walked her through the swinging door into the kitchen and stopped dead. “Oh, my goodness. What happened in here?”
Iris flashed him a pleased smile. Her cake was half-frosted and looked very good.
“A small gift,” Beth Ann said wryly, seeing her shiny appliances from Fred’s eyes. A shout and squeal in the living room told her Glenn and Bernie had returned.
Fred whistled as he turned around a full three hundred sixty degrees. “I’ll say. Several small gifts. I can’t believe this. Look at this equipment. Do you have any idea what kind of stuff you have?” He regarded it with an appraising eye and whistled again. “This must have set him back a bit. He must have custom-ordered it.”
“Custom-ordered?” Beth Ann hadn’t even let herself dwell on that aspect, though she had suspected as much.