by Jane Toombs
Zed scowled. After a minute or two, still looking as dark as the sky outside, he began tossing the toy duck from hand to hand. She took her hands from her ears in time to hear him mutter something that sounded more like a hiss than a word, giving her an excuse to ask what he’d said.
He blinked as though coming out of a trance, glancing at her, then away. He set the duck carefully on the table. “I didn’t realize I spoke aloud, and what I said isn’t a real word, just syllables like Danny’s babbling.”
“Not a real word?” she repeated.
“I made it up as a child, or so Grandma told me. For some reason she hated to hear the word, so I learned to keep it to myself.”
“Your private swearword?”
He shrugged. “I guess. But I wasn’t swearing at you. This damn frustrating situation would make a saint swear.” He waved his hand toward the cabin door. “To cap it off, the rain caused us to lose a day.”
She reached across the table to touch his hand. “The day’s not lost. The rain might delay us, but we didn’t lose a day. Didn’t we have an absolutely delicious broiled chicken picnic lunch, courtesy of The Colonel?”
He put his hand over hers, half-smiling. “And great oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, courtesy of Karen Henderson.”
At that moment Danny let out a howl. “Sound effects, courtesy of Daniel Shane Henderson,” she added, rising to go to the bunk.
“Shane. Did Erin specify his middle name, too?”
“Yes, she did,” Karen said. “I’ve often wondered why she chose that middle name. The Danny is easy—her father’s name is Daniel. It broke my heart that he never acknowledged what turned out to be her final attempt to gain his approval.”
“For what it’s worth, my grandmother’s maiden name was Shane,” he said. “A coincidence?”
“Since that blood match between you and Danny, I don’t know if I believe in coincidence anymore. But if everything we’ve learned has significance, I sure don’t understand what it is.”
Neither did he. He’d constructed a few theories, building them from fragments that might or might not prove to match, but the only fact he was perfectly sure of was that he wasn’t Danny’s father.
“I think I’ll pass up the sail tomorrow,” she said as she deftly changed the boy’s wet diaper. “But I’ll come down to the marina later so we can cruise around and ask questions. What time do you think you’ll be back?”
“Probably around one.”
With resignation he watched her reach for Danny’s slicker. “Here,” she said when she had the boy cocooned. “Take him while I get mine on.”
Zed hefted the boy in his arms, realizing how familiar it felt to hold him. Familiar and, somehow, right “Bye, Tiger,” he said.
Danny squirmed sideways and Zed realized he was trying to reach the duck on the table. He gave the toy to him. To his surprise, the boy promptly handed it back to him, saying, “Da!”
“He’s honoring you with a gift,” Karen said. “Be warned he may change his mind and demand the duck again a minute later.”
“See you tomorrow, Tiger,” Zed said as he handed Danny to Karen. “Thanks for the gift.”
When she and the boy were gone, the boat cabin, cozy a moment before, seemed empty. He dealt with it by going out to eat.
George arrived promptly at seven the next morning, a beautiful morning with clear skies and a light breeze that promised good sailing. Zed eased the Painted Lady into the harbor and then through the channel to the ocean.
As usual when sailing, he forgot everything else for the time he was on the water, enjoying the quiet flight of a fine-tuned boat. Hours later they returned and, as he entered the channel, Zed’s exhilaration began to fade.
“Good trip,” George said. “Appreciate your patience with my crewing. I’m getting as slow as a desert tortoise.”
“Hell, you’re an old salt,” Zed said. “What you lack in speed you more than make up for in knowledge. Never had a better crew. Let me know when we can go again.”
On this sunshine day, all kinds of people strolled around the waterfront. As Zed eased the boat into her mooring slip, a familiar voice hailed him.
“Zed!” Jade called. “It’s about time you pulled in.”
She leapt aboard as soon as he was close enough to the wharf and held out her hand to George, saying, “You must be Mr. Stone. I’m Zed’s sister, Jade. Fantastic boat you’ve got here.”
“Sorry you missed our sail,” George said, smiling at her. Most men did. Jade’s casual friendliness coupled with her good looks lent her an appealing charm.
“You must come with us next time,” George added.
Jade thanked him and saw him off the boat while Zed battened down. When she returned, Karen and Danny were with her. “I parked them on a bench while we waited,” Jade said.
Zed glanced at his watch. Not quite one.
“Jade saw the boat was gone, so she came by my apartment,” Karen told him.
“Yeah, I heard the baby-sitting disaster story,” Jade said, grinning. “A pink towel with purple flowers?”
Zed shrugged.
“And I met the famous Mrs. Hammond,” Jade added. “I told her that while my brother actually was a certified nut, he would never dream of abducting a baby while naked.”
He gave her a mock scowl. “Thanks a lot.” Turning to Karen, he asked, “Do you want to come aboard?”
“First let’s walk around till Danny gets tired,” she responded.
“How about lunch?” he asked.
“Sounds good,” Jade said. Karen nodded.
Zed shepherded them toward a small restaurant within walking distance, recommended by George. When they neared the place, Zed saw George standing in front of the establishment talking to a man, a stranger.
“Oh, look, there’s Mr. Stone,” Jade said. “Let’s invite him to lunch.” Not waiting for anyone’s agreement—one of her minor faults—she walked up and greeted him.
The man George was talking to turned at the sound of her voice, his gaze sliding over Jade to fix on Zed. “Speak of the devil, George,” the stranger said. “That’s him now.”
He held out his hand to Zed. “Long time no see. Where the hell have you been keeping yourself, Talal?”
Chapter Seven
Zed stared blankly at the fiftyish man who’d called him Talal, the name echoing in his mind, growing louder and louder until it became a roaring in his ears. Talal. Talal He’d never heard the name before and yet somewhere inside he knew that name. The tail end of a memory surfaced, something about sand and a ball, a red ball, but the memory slipped away before he could capture more, leaving him confused.
“I’m sorry,” Jade said to the man, “but you’ve made a mistake. My brother isn’t—”
“Wait,” Zed told his sister. He offered his hand to the stranger. “My name’s Zed Adams.”
“Louie Quintas,” the man said, shaking his hand.
“Louie’s boat is moored four up from mine,” George added. “I was just showing him the photo you gave me.”
Louie scratched his head, looking from Zed to the photo he still held, then back to Zed. “Guess you can’t be Talal if you say you’re not. But you sure could have fooled me. This is Talal in the picture, all right, on his boat. Talal Zohir. From one of those Middle Eastern oil countries—Kholi, as I recall.”
“Kholi?” Zed echoed, his mind roiling in confusion. “Do you mind telling me how it is you know him?”
Louie glanced at George, who nodded. “Ran into him at a boat party a couple summers ago,” Louie said. “We met again a week later when we were moored side by side at Catalina. You know how it is with us sailors, we don’t stand on ceremony. My wife was with me and she got friendly with Talal’s red-haired girlfriend.” He pointed to Erin in the snapshot. “We shared a few mar-garitas while Talal and I swapped fish stories. You’d never know he was an Arab—didn’t dress like one and spoke as good English as I do.”
“This is the Maddamti you’r
e talking about?” Zed asked.
Louie nodded. “Means ‘my lady’ in Arabic, Talal told me. My wife asked him if he’d named it for Erin.”
“Had he?” Karen asked eagerly.
“He never did say one way or the other,” Louie told her. “We took a lot of pictures in Catalina that year—some of him and the boat and Erin. My wife writes names, dates and places on the backs of all our photos to remind us where we were and when and who with. But Talal’s name was so different I wouldn’t have forgotten it, even without the reminder.”
“Have you seen him since?” Jade asked, as usual getting right to the point. “Do you know where he is? We really do need to locate him. You might say it’s a matter of life and death.”
Zed, still feeling dazed since hearing the name Talal, let her assume control.
“Sorry, can’t help you there,” Louie said. “Never saw him again, never had an address. Happens a lot with sailors. Ships that pass in the night and all that.”
“Have you ever heard his name mentioned since then?” Jade persisted.
Louie scratched his head again. “Come to think about it, in a way I did. Some guy, can’t recall who, told me he’d heard somebody had seen my Arab friend’s boat at Santa Barbara. Maddamti’s a name that tends to stand out.”
“How long ago was this?” Jade asked.
“Maybe a week or more, can’t pin it down.”
“Only a week ago!” Karen exclaimed, her gaze meeting Zed’s.
He couldn’t seem to pull himself together. Though he’d asked questions and taken in everything that was said, it all had a dreamlike quality. Because of this, he couldn’t match Karen’s obvious excitement. What the devil was wrong with him?
“Didn’t expect to hit a hole in one with my first shot,” George said, laying a hand on Louie’s arm. “Thanks, friend.”
With her usual exuberant enthusiasm, Jade hugged Louie, saying; “You don’t know how much we appreciate this.”
Karen shifted Danny so she could shake Louie’s hand. “Erin’s my cousin,” she said. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping us.”
Gathering his wits, Zed added, “I realize we can never repay you, but I can at least offer you lunch.”
“Please do join us,” Jade seconded.
Louie shook his head. “Nothing I’d like more, but I’m picking up my wife at her hairdresser in La Jolla and we’re going on to a friend’s house. Thanks for the offer. Glad I could help.” He smiled at them, said, “See you, George,” and walked briskly away.
For the past few minutes Zed had been half-aware that Danny was unhappy. He put aside his intention to invite George to lunch and asked Karen, “What’s wrong with Tiger?”
“He’s definitely not happy, that’s for sure,” she said. “He’s been drooling a lot—probably he’s cutting another tooth. I think I’d better take him home.”
“Rain check for lunch?” Zed asked George. “I owe you.”
“Don’t sweat it,” George told him. “Our sail this morning more than repaid me for everything. I do have one request, though. Once you find this Talal, please let me know how everything turns out.”
Zed nodded. “Will do. If you’ll come back to the boat, I’ll return everything you gave me, because I intend to drive on up to Santa Barbara to check things out there.”
Jade put a hand on his arm. “I’m going to take Karen and Danny back to her apartment,” she said over Danny’s whimpering. “See you there?”
He nodded, leaning down to peer into Danny’s face. The boy sniffled, tears leaking from his eyes. He looked the picture of misery, and his discomfort hit Zed hard. “Hey, Tiger, I’d cut that tooth for you if I could,” he said softly. “But it’s in your mouth, so I can’t. All I can do is feel sorry for you. Not much help, is it?” He wiped a tear from Danny’s cheek with his forefinger, straightened and said to Karen, “I’ll come by as soon as I can.”
By the time he’d neatened the boat’s cabin, gathered his belongings and returned the keys to George, almost an hour had passed. As he and George walked to where their cars were parked, George said, “You seemed pretty well-stunned by Louie’s identification.”
“I was. I never heard the name before and my acquaintance with any Arab is limited but…” His words trailed off and he shook his head. “I don’t know why, but instead of being elated that we’re on the way to finding the man in the picture, I feel apprehensive, as though something’s wrong.” He shrugged. “I guess I’ll get over it.”
At his car George clapped his hand on Zed’s shoulder before sliding into the driver’s seat. “Take it easy, sailor, and keep in touch,” he said before closing the door and driving away.
No matter what Karen did, Danny refused to be comforted, making conversation with Jade difficult. Once home, Karen, with considerable difficulty, rubbed some of the pediatrician’s recommended swollen-gum solution onto the reddened area of Danny’s gums. She measured out a dose of baby pain reliever and coaxed it down him.
Danny wouldn’t eat any solid food, finished only part of his bottle and wept piteously when Karen tried to lay him down. So she sat with him in the rocking chair until he finally dozed off and then put him down in his crib.
“Full-time job, isn’t it?” Jade remarked when she dragged into the kitchen and flopped into a chair.
“And a half, sometimes,” Karen admitted.
Jade slid a plate of food in front of her. “I slipped out to a deli for some goodies and made you a ham and cheese sandwich to go with the salads. I found your decaf and brewed a pot. Want some?”
“Thanks. At the moment I could use what Zed calls leaded coffee, but I’ll stick with the decaf.” She got up to pour herself a cup and returned to the table.
“Zed really flipped when Louie called him Talal—did you notice?” Jade asked.
Karen nodded. “He looked like he was in a trance for a few moments there.”
“That’s not like him. He even let me take over, he rarely lets me get away with that, though I try to do it a lot. I wonder if he’ll tell us what was going through his head. He can be very private at times.”
Karen nibbled on her thumbnail. She’d felt disappointed when Zed hadn’t seemed to share her relief and. excitement that they’d identified the man in the picture. Why hadn’t he?
“He’s certainly fallen for Danny in a big way,” Jade said. “This is a guy who never paid the slightest attention to any of our friends’ kids and yawned outright if anyone dared produce baby pictures in his presence. That little boy’s a real charmer.” Jade reached around to her bag, hung on the chair back, dug out an envelope and offered it to Karen. “Look inside, please.”
Karen pulled out a snapshot and what looked to be a couple of picture proofs. Studying the baby, in the photos, she frowned. “Why, these could be of Danny!” she exclaimed.
“They’re of me, taken at six months,” Jade said. “I thought there was a definite resemblance, more than just the generic one-baby-looks-like-another. Now you’ve confirmed it.”
“But I don’t understand it,” Karen admitted.
“Neither do I.”
“Did Zed run that half-brother possibility past you?” Karen asked. When Jade shook her head, Karen outlined what Zed had postulated. “He did point out the impossibility of finding the man if he did exist,” she finished. “He said the difficulty is neither of you know anything about your father, not even his name.”
Jade sighed. “It’s like we never had a father. Mother died when I was born, but we felt she was a part of our lives because our grandparents had so many pictures and spoke of her so often. I can’t put much credence in this half-brother business, though. Not that I have a better idea. But I don’t have to come up with any ideas, do I? We have a positive make on Talal Zohir—all that remains is to find him. I wish I could drive up to Santa Barbara with Zed, but I have to take an early flight on Monday so I can get back in time to bid on a drilling job that’s a real biggie.”
“
Don’t worry. I’ve already decided to go with him. Danny and me, actually. I hate to take off more time, but this is critical. I want to be there when Zed confronts Talal. I have some choice words of my own to lay on that man.”
“I don’t blame you. Go for it”.
Zed rang the bell and Karen let him in, hoping the sound hadn’t roused Danny. When she didn’t hear any noise from the bedroom, she returned to the kitchen, where Zed was heaping a plate with deli food.
“So Karen’s going to Santa Barbara with you,” Jade said to him.
Zed paused with a serving spoon in midair. “Not that I know of. I’m driving up there tonight.” He looked at Karen. “Your school’s in session—you told me you didn’t want to take any more time off.”
“I don’t, but I can and I will,” she told him.
“He may not be in Santa Barbara. I think it’s best you stay here and let me try to locate him.”
Karen raised her chin. “I’m going.”
“What about Danny?” he asked.
“He’s coming along. I don’t travel without him.”
“But he’s sick. You can’t haul along a sick baby.”
She shook her head. “Cutting a tooth can’t be classified as a major illness. He may be miserable, but he’s not sick. The drive up to Santa Barbara won’t hurt him—he tends to fall asleep in a car, so it might even help.”
“You’re as stubborn as they come.” Exasperation tinged his words.
She raised an eyebrow. “How about tenacious? Or persistent? Or knows her own mind? Any one of those sounds better than stubborn. Besides, if I go, we can use my car and you can return the rental. I don’t know how you feel about it, but I hate to waste money.”
Zed turned to Jade. “I suppose you’re on her side.”
Jade nodded. “Women stick together whenever possible. Anyway, she’s right—why waste money? Also, I have an ulterior motive. My plane doesn’t leave till six tomorrow morning, so I’m spending the night here. If Karen goes with you, I get to sleep in her bed tonight instead of on her couch.”