But he hadn’t returned. He hadn’t called. And she had survived seeing him, survived kissing him, even survived him making love to her. Although she had to admit, making love still reduced her to idiocy.
Marianne had been telling her for ages. It was time she stopped grieving over the past and went on with the future. Robyn had lectured Grant about keeping his dead wife alive. She was no better. For five years, she’d lived in the shadow of his memory, refusing to look forward. It was time she thought about her own life and what the future could bring. She would go out with other men. Somewhere out there was a man she could spend her life with and love, if not in the same way, enough to forget. She just had to find him.
"I know that look." Marianne stopped her on her way through the kitchen. Robyn looked at the desserts, her favorite.
"What look is that?" she asked, admiring the cake replica of the leaning tower of Pisa. The buttercream icing smelled deliciously of lemon. She remembered when she and Marianne were caterers working out of her kitchen. She had run out of white vanilla when she was making icing. As a substitute, Marianne had suggested they use lemon. The cake had smelled wonderful, and the guests loved it. Every since then, she’d made it a part of her recipe. Only now they were careful to check their ingredients.
"The look that says you’ve made up your mind. What is it this time? Are you thinking of changing the drapes. . .remodeling the lounge. . .or have you resolved never to see Grant Richards again?"
Marianne was remarkably perceptive. She wondered what other aspects of her life her friend knew about and had not exposed.
"I didn’t have to decide anything about him. He’s gone." She wanted to leave it at that, but Marianne had other plans.
"With or without a little help from you?"
"I don’t know," she answered truthfully. He hadn’t called since Jacob had taken control. She didn’t know if he’d agreed to her plea not to see him again, if he’d been too angry when she didn’t return, or if Jacob had taken care of all the loose ends.
"What happened when you went down there for the party? When I picked you up, you looked like someone had died." Uncharacteristically, Marianne pressed on.
"Nothing much happened. I told you an emergency came up, and the plane was needed. I came back the next day. . .by commercial air."
Something significant had happened. Jacob had called to tell her to pick up Robyn. She’d known her friend had left with Grant, but how she had ended up in D.C., Marianne could only speculate.
"He was busy, and I didn’t want to leave you here alone."
"You’re lying."
Robyn gasped. Marianne had never called her a liar before. The two women stared at each other over the leaning confection.
"Why did you say that?"
"Something happened. I could see it in the dark circles under your eyes. And I knew you’d been crying before you got off that plane."
"All right, I was crying. And Grant didn’t send me home. I came alone, without his knowledge."
"Why?"
"Marianne, why are you asking? You don’t even like Grant."
"I don’t dislike Grant. I’m concerned about you. We’ve been friends a long time, and I hate to see you so unhappy."
"I’m not unhappy."
"You were certainly doing a good imitation of it until Kari had that blood transfusion. Then, you went from unhappy to miserable."
"Well Grant and I won’t be seeing each other again. You were right the other night when you said it was time to stop grieving. It’s time I got on with my life."
"Then why are you putting a barrier in front of Grant. He’s the best looking man I’ve seen in years, and he came back to see you."
"He came to see Kari."
Marianne frowned. "Brooke, grown men don’t travel four hundred miles to see a child unless it’s his."
Robyn controlled her emotions, containing her reaction. "Marianne, you’re confusing me. Are you saying you want me to see Grant? I thought your opinion of Grant was that he was just another guy."
"If he’s what you want, he’s not another guy to you."
"Then why did you say it? I can’t keep up with you anymore. You’re behind him, then you’re against him."
"I’m for you, Brooke."
"It doesn’t matter anyway, Marianne. He won’t be back."
Robyn gave her a crooked smile and walked away. It was nearly time for her song. Marianne didn’t know how to protect her friend. Since she’d been assigned, her job had been relatively easy. There were no complications or threats to Robyn’s existence. There was also no life. The two of them ran the business and watched Kari grow.
Her own life was different, but just as unhappy. While Robyn gave everything to the restaurant and her daughter, Marianne had many dates, and there were several men in her life. It wasn’t until Grant made an unscheduled appearance that Robyn began to live. It was also then that Marianne’s life with Jacob had taken on a different flavor.
What were they to do? Robyn, for reasons that concerned her own life, could not go on seeing the man she loved. And her association, she refused to label it love, with Jacob was an added conflict that could jeopardize several lives. She shuddered to think of the hotel room and the explosion that nearly killed the two of them.
She needed to talk to someone about her problems, but there was no one. She couldn’t tell Brooke, the person she protected, and, she couldn’t tell Jacob, the man who protected them both.
***
Three weeks passed, and Robyn’s life settled into a routine. She threw herself into Kari and the restaurant. It seemed Marianne was working out her own problems if the number of chocolate desserts could be counted. Each day, the ache in Robyn’s heart dulled a little. Grant hadn’t called, and she was sure he never would. She didn’t know whether or how Jacob had contacted him, but she was sure he had a hand in his silence.
Susan and David’s wedding was this weekend. She’d promised to attend but early in the week had decided not to go. How could she explain her actions to Grant? How could she look David and Susan in the eye after promising not to hurt their friend and doing just that? It would be best to avoid further contact with any of them. Yet, as the days passed, she found herself longing for one more glimpse into her past.
Pulling into her driveway for her afternoon with Kari, she found a strange car.
"Name’s Hammil, Ma’am. Thomas Hammil." The man getting out of the blue Chevrolet extended his hand by way of introduction. Robyn took it. He gave her a quick, hard shake and dropped it. "I’m from the Bureau."
She knew without him telling her. He was from Jacob’s office. She wondered if somewhere in Washington they had a factory where they molded these clones.
"Come inside." The tall blonde followed Robyn with the cadence of military training.
"The wedding’s tomorrow, Ma’am. I’m here as your escort." The drawl was definitely Texan, she thought as Thomas came straight to the point.
"Jacob sent me an escort?"
"Yes, Ma’am. He’s sorry he can’t pull the duty himself."
"You can relax, Thomas, and call me Brooke."
"Thank you, Ma’am." Robyn didn’t think he knew how to relax. He looked just as straight as before. "We have plane reservations for fifteen hundred hours, that’s three o’clock this afternoon, Ma’am."
She hesitated slightly, turning away from Thomas Hammil. She knew what this was. It was a crossroads. One of those places where one decision changed your life. If she stayed here, she’d never see Grant again. If she went. . .she didn’t know what lay ahead.
"Ma’am?" Hammil called.
Robyn turned back. "I’ll be ready," she told him. "I just have to go next door and pick up, Kari. Would you like something to drink? Or eat?"
"No, Ma’am," he declined.
"Thomas, if we’re going to spend the weekend together, don’t you think you’re going to have to relax a bit?"
"Sorry, Ma’am."
; "I promise not to give Jacob a report on your behavior."
At that, he actually smiled.
"Then, if it’s all right, Brooke, I would like a soda, if you have one."
Robyn remembered that people from the District of Columbia call pop, soda. It was one of the colloquiums Jacob insisted she learn, and for which he cautioned her never to mistake.
She handed Thomas Hammil a can of cola and filled a glass with ice. "I’ll get Kari," she said, leaving him to walk the short distance to Will’s house.
Kari met her exuberantly as she always did. She reminded Will of David and Susan’s wedding. "I’ll be gone overnight."
"I never heard you mention them before. And you’re going to their wedding."
"They’re friends of Grant’s."
"I remember now."
"Will, are you all right? You never forget anything." She went to him and placed the back of her hand on his forehead as if he were Kari’s age.
"Just getting old I guess." Will laughed, moving his head away from her touch. Robyn smiled but concern creased her brow. She loved the old man. In many ways, he was like her father. She wondered if he just didn’t want them to go without him. Since he had moved next door, when Kari was a toddler, they’d been friends.
"Will you need a ride to the airport?"
"I have a ride," she answered not bothering to explain the U.S. Marshall waiting for her in her house. "Come on, Kari. You still have to pack your toys."
Kari was immediately ready. She’d been looking forward to going on the trip since Robyn mentioned it to her.
"Will Uncle Grant be there?" Kari asked, as they walked across the connecting lawns.
"I think he’s going to be in the wedding, darling."
"What’s a wedding?"
"It’s like a big party. First, a woman with a long white dress and a man in a suit swear to love each other for the rest of their lives, then everyone has a party and gives them gifts to start their life."
"Oh, like the picture on the mantel."
Robyn smiled. She stopped, going down to Kari’s level. "Kari, that’s me in the picture. I’m wearing the long white dress."
"It doesn’t look like you," her childish voice said.
"I was a lot younger then."
"Was I a lot younger, too?"
Robyn hugged her with a laugh. "Yes, darling. You were a lot younger."
"What about my daddy?"
Robyn had answered that question before. Kari asked about her father often, especially after beginning pre-school. She knew the same story Robyn had learned. Why did Robyn find it so difficult to lie to her daughter now?
"Kari, don’t you know what happened to your daddy?" Her voice was serious.
Kari’s youthful soprano was proud and sad. "He died before I was born."
"Yes, darling, he died."
Robyn stood up then, covering the distance that brought her to the kitchen door. She was about to take her daughter to see her real father, yet she had to tell her child that the figure of a man in a photograph she’d never seen was her father.
Cameron Johnson, a man who happened to have the same rare blood type as Kari and who died in the service without parents or other relatives, was given to Robyn as her husband. This cardboard figure was Kari’s father, while the flesh and blood man whose body had joined with Robyn’s in love to produce a dark-eyed, dark-haired child could never know what he had done.
Inside, Robyn introduced Kari to Thomas Hammil and told her he was going to see that they got to the wedding. While Kari went to pack her toys in her backpack, Robyn noticed Thomas had cleaned his glass, dried it, and replaced it in the appropriate cabinet. The can that had held his soda pop had been rinsed, crushed, and discarded in the appropriate recyclable container. It was as if he was erasing his presence from the house.
***
The fragrance of roses filled the church at Sixteenth and Gallatin Streets. It was a small intimate chapel nestled off the busy northwest thoroughfare. The stone building had stood for over a hundred years and was covered in ivy as if an artist had sketched it out for a painting. Robyn sat near the back of the church on the right side. Thomas Hammil sat next to her on one side, while an excited Kari fidgeted on the other. Robyn and Kari wore matching dresses of pink silk. Her hat was large and floppy. Thomas must have approved of the outfit for he made no comment, yet his head-to-toe observation of her when she’d come down the stairs was met with a slight nod.
The organist played softly and Grant and David came from the vestibule in the front of the church. Robyn’s heart lurched when she saw him. She moved forward. Suddenly, a restraining hand took her arm. Thomas Hammil was stronger than he looked. Robyn settled in her seat, but Kari was more vocal.
"Mommy, there’s Uncle Grant." She pointed toward the front.
"Don’t point, Kari." Robyn pushed her finger down. "I see him, dear."
"Does he know we’re here?" she whispered.
"No, honey. Now, be quiet. The bridesmaids are about to come in."
Dry eyed, Robyn watched as several of her college friends floated through the door. They shimmered down the aisle, a sea of golden yellow reflecting through the mirror of time. Baby’s breath ringed their heads, and they carried baskets of silk flowers, picking up the yellow color scheme. When the organist played The Wedding March, the congregation stood. Robyn helped Kari, lifting her onto the seat and holding her in the crook of her arm. While she waited for the bride to come through the door, she glanced at the front of the church. Grant’s eyes caught and held hers. Anger shot daggers at her. She couldn’t drop her gaze as a tremor ran the course of her body. Thomas Hammil came to her aid. He touched her elbow gently as Susan came through the door.
She was beautiful, exactly the bride she should be. Her dress was covered in lace and pearls. The bodice fit snugly, dropping past her waist, then fanning out in layers of white lace and crystal pleating.
Susan smiled happily and began her slow procession toward her future husband. When all were settled in front, Thomas handed her his handkerchief and she wiped the mist from her eyes. For a short moment robyn replaced the bride and groom with herself and Grant. Robyn hazarded a glance in Grant’s direction. He had turned to face the minister.
The ceremony was short, and soon, the brightly clad women on the arms of black-tuxedoed men followed the bride and groom up the aisle. Kari waved at Grant as he passed. He lifted his hand to her but did not include Robyn in his welcome.
When the church was nearly empty, Robyn turned to Thomas. "Should we go to the reception now, or wait until after the bridal party has settled?"
"We can go now."
Robyn was not looking forward to coming face-to-face with Grant. The look he’d given her clearly told her that he was angry over her unorthodox exodus.
People gathered at the reception hall before the bride and groom arrived. Thomas found them a table and went to get Robyn and Kari drinks. He came back with a cola for Kari, a pina colada for her and something for himself that looked like water with a lemon twist. They waited an hour before the bridal party finally arrived. Robyn did not join the well-wishers as the party came through the door, but Kari slipped out of her seat before Robyn could stop her and padded across the dance floor to be lifted into Grant’s arms. His smile toward her was warm and genuine. He swung her around several times then kissed her on the cheek. Robyn sat stonelike, watching the gentle exchange.
After several minutes, he set her down, and she pointed at the table before running to it. "Uncle Grant’s coming to see me, Mommy," she announced. Fear ran through Robyn. She’d made a bargain with Jacob, and this time she was going to keep it. Grant hadn’t come to see them in the last few weeks. Why would he come now? Maybe Kari meant he was going to come to the table. Wasn’t it customary to say hello to old friends, old enemies? Old lovers?
The reception line formed. Robyn rose and joined it, Thomas Hammil at her elbow. The first person in line was Marsha Jennings. They had been
at college together. When Robyn and Susan lived next door to each other, they had often met Marsha for lunch. Marsha smiled, taking her hand. Her attention rested on Robyn for a moment too long. Then she looked at Kari and back.
"Hello, I’m Brooke Johnson," she introduced herself. "This is my daughter, Kari. And this is Thomas Hammil." She turned slightly to include Thomas. And, hopefully, Marsha would think she was mistaken.
"How do you do?" She smiled down at Kari and shook hands with Thomas then passed them along. When Robyn got to Susan, she was close to tears. How she would have liked to be a part of the ceremony, but it was enough to be present. She hugged her friend and whispered how lovely she thought the dress was. Then, she hugged David and congratulated him.
She placed her hand in Grant’s. "What, no hug for me?" He held onto her hand, pulling on it slightly. Robyn had no choice, if she didn’t want to snatch her hand away. She leaned forward, and he hugged her tightly, but briefly. His release didn’t come until after he felt the tremor run through her.
Reaching down, he swung Kari into his arms. "Hi, precious. How’s my blood doing? You’re keeping it safe just in case I need it?"
"I’m keeping it safe," she chimed. Robyn reached for her. But Grant dodged her grasp. "She’s all right. She can stay." He’d won again. He knew she wouldn’t fight over the child. The line behind her was long, and she was holding it up. Thomas edged her along, and she left Kari, returning to the table. She took a seat, her back to the raised dais where Grant and the bridal party would sit. She knew she couldn’t take him glaring at her when they took their places. After the reception line ended, the bridal party was led to the dais, and Kari was honored by being able to sit on Grant’s lap for a while.
When Grant rose with a champagne glass in his hand, Robyn knew the toast. It was the one David had given them and she’d repeated the night of the engagement party. While the room saluted the bride and groom, Kari left the dais to return to her mother. "I’m ready," she told the U.S. Marshal.
Under the Sheets (Capitol Chronicles Book 1) Page 19