Made in Heaven

by McGoldrick, May

  Evan’s soft, husky voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

  “Leave the light on. I’ll be up in a minute.”

  She cringed. She cursed under her breath. And then she ran.

  *****

  “You’re not going in until you tell me what the hell that was all about!”

  Ignoring Phil, Evan pushed the large furry mass with one foot and moved between the wolfhound and the chair.

  “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” He sat himself comfortably in the rocking chair.

  “You know Meg? Is she an old friend?”

  “Yes and no. Get me a beer, will you?”

  “Get your own! Hell, you know your way around my house better than I do!”

  “On second thought,” Evan stretched tiredly in the chair. “I think I’ll pass on the beer and just call it a night.”

  Before he could get to his feet, though, Phil was heading toward the porch. “Don’t you dare move your ass out of that chair. Hear me? I want to hear about this woman!”

  Alone beneath the stars, Evan kicked off his sneakers and propped his feet up on the dog. Swift batted an eyebrow, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes again.

  “Work, work, work! Eh, Swift?” Evan chuckled, craning his neck around to look at the house and the windows overlooking the harbor. As he watched, he saw her light turn on. A moment later, he saw her shadow flicker across a wall.

  That woman sure as hell knew how to kiss, Evan thought. Even now, he was still conscious of the heat in his loins and the delicious taste of her mouth. He frowned in the darkness, wondering what had come over him to act so possessively.

  Evan looked up again toward her window. Her tee-shirted figure appeared, and the window opened. As he watched her disappear, he wondered what she would do if he actually did show up at her door tonight. He chuckled and leaned over to pet the 180 lb. fur-ball at his feet. Oh, he knew what she would do. The hard slam of her door would most likely add a new--and flatter--dimension to his face.

  At the sound of Phil’s steps coming back from the house, Evan turned his gaze out at the view of the harbor. As much as he was captivated with Meg Murphy, Evan still didn’t know how to explain her to his friend. Hell, he couldn’t explain her to himself.

  “Here you go, you lazy bastard.”

  Evan reached up and took the beer from Phil’s hand. “Did you have to go to New Bedford for this beer?”

  “No, I was looking for these in the kitchen.” Phil held up a package of graham crackers. “I think Nan hid them on me.”

  “Damn, Phil! Graham crackers and beer?”

  “Hey, I like it. You know I like it!”

  “Yeah, but the entire pretzel industry’s been praying novenas that you’d grow out of it.”

  “Well, they can keep on praying.”

  Evan watched his friend settle into the chair beside him.

  “So when the hell did you get back?”

  “Tonight.”

  “And how was your trip?”

  “Great sailing weather. Warm. Decent wind. We ran into--” Phil abruptly halted mid-sentence. “Wait a minute, you tricky sonovabitch. You’re not slithering out of answering my questions like that!”

  Evan looked at his friend innocently. “What? I don’t remember any questions!”

  “Meg Murphy? The woman you marched in here and kissed like a jealous newlywed! Who is she?”

  “You two looked like you were pretty tight here. Don’t tell me she didn’t give you the scoop?”

  Phil took a swig of his drink and smiled back at Evan. “No, to tell the truth, we didn’t have much chance to talk about her...and your name definitely didn’t come up!”

  “Then what the hell were you two so chatty about?”

  “Things.”

  Phil’s casual answer managed to irk Evan’s temper. “What kind of things exactly?”

  “You’re such an asshole, Evan.” Phil grinned and popped a piece of cracker in his mouth before casually bringing the drink to his lips for another swallow. “I don’t know. Wolfhounds. Newport. Sailing. We were just about to get to sex.”

  “Oh, you were telling her your life story!” Evan could see that Phil was entertained by the whole thing, but he couldn’t help glaring at him.

  “Just the highlights.”

  “Well, did you explain the rules? Did you give her the stats that she needs to beat?”

  “The stats?”

  “Yeah!” Evan answered tersely. “Like the ‘one-night stands only’ rule. And the current land-speed record for putting her on her back.”

  Phil’s dark eyes shone with mischief when they turned on him. “As a matter of fact, you might be interested to know that the Guinness Book people just left. Hell, she’s already broken that record.”

  Evan felt his hackles go up. “Don’t bullshit me, Phil!”

  Phil put his beer on the bricks and stretched his long, tanned legs out in front of him. He looked out at the boats on the harbor. “Hey, Evan, you know I never lie about these things.”

  He didn’t know why, but suddenly Evan felt his stomach go sour. Taking another deep swallow of his beer, he tried to wash away the taste.

  Feeling his anger rising like a storm inside of him, Evan turned and faced his friend. “So how was she in bed?”

  “In bed?” Phil grinned. “You’re such a stuffed shirt. We never got to bed!”

  “Then what the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the front entrance!”

  “The front entr...! Dammit to hell, Phil! You used to have some sense of decency!”

  “Hey, I didn’t force her! I just asked and she went down willingly!”

  Evan sat forward in his chair and glared threateningly at the other man. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t know Meg before tonight. You never met her before.”

  “Right!”

  “And yet you managed to screw her in the front hall of your own damn house?”

  Phil leaned back on his chair and fought down a smile. “I didn’t say anything about screwing, Evan. I think it was you who said...”

  He never had the opportunity to finish his words as Evan rose and upended him with one swift motion.

  “Okay, you smart-assed sonovabitch!” Evan said, standing over him with his hands on his hips. “Now let’s just start all over again.”

  CHAPTER 12

  With a gentle touch, Jada traced the delicate lines of the baby’s ear and gazed in wonder at the little bundle tucked close to her breast.

  It was so quiet. The only sound she could hear was the soft purring noise of the baby’s breathing as he slept. He was done feeding and had dropped off, now awakening only occasionally to suckle contentedly and drift off again.

  Jada lifted her head at the sound of a nurse’s laugh out at the duty station. Sounded like she was on the phone. Take your time, the young mother thought, looking back down at her infant son. No hurry.

  How different she felt tonight. So unlike last night, when she’d been relieved to have the nurse come at last and take the baby to the nursery. Tonight, she felt her chest tighten at the thought of parting with him, even for a moment.

  She watched Ted’s little mouth work in his sleep, and smiled. Pushing his little cap aside, she ran her fingers across fine, black hair covering his head. His face wrinkled up and reddened as he prepared to cry.

  “Shh...” she cooed softly, stroking his cheek and watching as he quieted.

  He definitely had her complexion, she thought happily. But his eyes! He’d opened them for her briefly tonight, and she thought they looked deep blue. She wondered if he’d end up with Matthew’s eyes?

  She didn’t even notice the tears until one plopped on the baby’s head. She smoothed the moist spot with her finger. Matthew. Matthew Rand. A name that, as long as she lived, she would never repeat aloud. Nobody could know. Nobody would know. She had vowed that long ago.

  She leaned down and softly placed a kiss on her son’s head. Despite the
difficulties that she’d had to deal with, the most important thing to remember was that her baby had been conceived in love. Someday, she would tell him that.

  And somehow, until that day, she would raise him in a world full of love.

  Somehow, it would be a better world than the one she and Matthew had known. Confused, lost, deprived. Him-- neglected by a family who thought writing a check was the way to buy affection. Her-- raised without a parent for most of her life. Never having someone close enough to call a friend.

  Matthew was a rich kid, and she was poor. His parents, wrapped up in their own lives, paid little attention to him. Jada’s father sacrificed terribly to send her to the Priory School, but he would not listen to her fervent pleas to let her go to the public school, instead.

  Although old enough to have his own license, Matthew had a driver take him to school. Jada preferred to miss the bus intentionally, so that she could hike the distance on foot. It was far better to be late, than listen to the taunts of “Subsidy Kid!" on the bus.

  But somehow, in spite of the huge difference between their lives, they still found themselves drawn to each other like magnets from the first day he arrived.

  Her life and his changed after that first day. Every moment they could spend together, they did. Outside of school, their time together was scarce, secret, stolen, precious.

  Jada never dared to tell her father about Matthew. As much as she was certain of Ted’s affection for her, she knew him to be a proud man and well aware of the social distinctions in this town. She never asked, but she knew that Matthew had never spoken of her to his family, either. But that was fine. What they shared, she thought was an innocent love. And it was based on a friendship, a kinship, that their families could never understand.

  Matthew was two years older. He was more experienced. In his own way, he started teaching her that holding hands just wasn’t enough to satisfy their young and curious bodies. He showed her heat, desire, passion...urges bubbling up from within that she couldn’t understand. Urges she’d had no desire to control.

  It had been the first time for Jada when they’d first crossed that line. She was scared and eager, but Matthew had been cautious enough to be prepared. Their young lives had become entwined as one. Because they had one another, the future seemed hopeful for the first time. But their dreams, their shared moments, their very existence were suddenly disrupted by forces beyond their control. Matthew found himself in the middle of his parents’ divorce. When his mother moved to their brownstone in New York City, he was forced to go with her, despite his pleas to remain in Newport.

  Jada still remembered his anguish. He’d been given no choice.

  And it had been during that last night together that they’d failed to take their usual precautions. In the middle of their tears of sorrow and their promises for the future, they failed to pay attention to their responsibilities for today.

  Matthew was long gone when Jada first discovered her condition. But then, even in the midst of what everyone thought a disgrace, her choice was clear. She would keep their baby, and she would keep Matthew’s name out of it. To her thinking, what good could come from him knowing the truth?

  Jada ran a gentle finger down the baby’s soft cheek.

  “What choice did we have?” she whispered. There had been a moment, not long after she’d found out she was pregnant, that she considered aborting the child. But, when it came right down to it, she couldn’t do it, and--looking at the babe in her arms--she knew now that she had made the right decision.

  The last months had been almost unbearable, and the childbirth more painful than anything she’d ever known. And then afterwards, she had felt so down, so tired, so empty. Like a zombie, she had not been able to wake herself up to this miracle in her arms. Until yesterday. Until Meg, with her goofy antics, had made her see the treasure that she’d brought into the world.

  Yes, she could see!

  Jada smiled again at her child. Everything would be fine now. Her father would come to love the baby! They’d be a family. Like that time so long ago, when her mother had been around. She stabbed at another runaway tear.

  She’d be a good mother! A great mother! And they’d always be together.

  Always!

  ******

  Meg sat bolt upright at the sound of the sharp knock on her door.

  Looking around in a moment of confusion, she quickly remembered where she was. After all, how could the room not be familiar? She’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, staring at the walls in the moonlight, comparing the symmetry of the flowered designs on the wallpaper of each wall in an effort to keep her mind off more alarming things. She hadn’t been able to fall asleep until the first streaks of dawn had lightened the sky.

  She rolled onto her side to glance at the clock-radio sitting on the bedside table, but then another louder knock on the door sent her scurrying out of the bed and reaching for the oversized tee-shirt lying across the foot of the bed.

  It was eight-thirty, way too early for any cleaning person to want to see to the room, but then, with one fluid motion she pulled the shirt over her head as yet another knock sounded at the door.

  “Wait a minute! I’m coming!” she called out, hurriedly reaching for her glasses and setting them on the bridge of her nose. Walking toward the door, she stole a quick glance in the mirror on the other side of the room and groaned at her disheveled condition. Combing one hand through her hair, she pressed her face against the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “‘Tis your wayward and disobedient lover,” a man’s voice answered dramatically from other side. “Home after a night of drinking around town! But I promise to make it up to you. Let me in, my darling!”

  Meg felt her face heat up at the sound of Evan’s teasing tone.

  “You’re such a goof,” she answered, reaching for the latch and opening the door a crack. “Does somebody write this stuff for you?”

  On the other side of the door he stood, again dressed in running shorts and a worn tee-shirt which managed to enhance his build. He was leaning against the door jam and, as she opened the door, he casually pushed at it, opening it wider.

  “You look pretty cute in that.”

  Flustered, Meg tore her eyes away from his face and looked down at her shapeless outfit and at the bare legs that stuck out beneath the knee length garment. There was absolutely nothing provocative about what she wore. He was just trying to rile her.

  “Especially with the light from the window coming through your shirt.”

  She looked up and found his eyes traveling meaningfully down her curves as if he really could see everything beneath.

  “Wrong door.” She tried to close the door in his face, but he casually placed his size thirteen Nike in the doorway, stopping her from closing it completely.

  “Oh, sorry. I should have known you weren’t a morning person.”

  “I am, too, a morning person!” she replied, giving his foot a kick before abandoning her thought of getting rid of him. “I’m very much a morning person...when it comes to normal routines.”

  “Then it’s clear you’re not accustomed to being told that you’re irresistible in thin cotton shirts. Whoever it is you sleep with in Boston is a dope if he doesn’t normally drag you back to bed when he sees you like this.”

  Meg swallowed hard and shook her head. “I don’t think...”

  “Hey, maybe you need a new routine!”

  She found herself entranced by the deep tone of his voice and the long lashed, hazel eyes that she swore could cast a spell. She watched helplessly as his hand reached toward her face and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. His finger lingered on the skin of her neck. Feeling her heart about to hammer its way out of her chest, she reached up and clumsily pushed his hand away.

  “Jeez, don’t you ever work?”

  Evan stared at her a split second, and then grinned. “This is getting to be the world’s most often asked question.”

  “Excu
se me?”

  “Look. It was a real good summer for cab drivers down here. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

  “Tell you what. I’ll stop worrying if you’ll stop practicing those corny pickup lines on me.” She tried to put a note of reprimand in her voice. “Now, is there a reason why you’re panting at my door so early?”

  “Why, yes. There is! Four of them, in fact.”

  She looked at him critically. “Four!”

  “Yup. There are four reasons for why I’m here. Which one do you want to hear first?”

  “Is this like, good news/bad news? Or just bad, bad, bad, bad news?”

  “Cute.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door jam. “Give me number four, and spare me the rest.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me start with number one?”

  “Positive!” she answered stubbornly.

  “Okay! I’m here to pass on a message from Jada.”

  She straightened immediately. “Is she okay?”

  “She sounded like it. They’re releasing her and the baby from the hospital this morning. When I called her, she wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind coming with me to take her home. She said something about needing a reminder of your clumsiness--or something like that--to make her feel more confident.”

  Meg smiled. “I’ll be ready in a flash.”

  “You don’t need to,” he added right away. “They won’t release them until around noon. That’s after the doctors make their rounds. Anyway, I’m going for a run, and after that I still need to shower and shave. Have you eaten anything yet?”

  Meg shook her head.

  “Why don’t you clean up and come up to my place in about an hour. I’m known for my killer Cheerios. We could take off from there.”

  "I’d love some Cheerios.”

  “Good. Top of the stairs. You can’t miss it. It’s the only door. See you in an hour.”

  Meg wistfully watched him turn and move quickly down the steps. She walked back inside the room and closed the door behind her. She had to get her act straight. Rebekah was right to scold her for not having pursued even the most innocent relationships with men. She had managed to become totally inept in dealing with them. Last night, after just a simple kiss, she had succeeded in losing a full night of sleep. Lying in bed, she had found herself tossing and turning, thoughts of Evan Knight invading her brain. Naturally, that had been followed by a longing for Robert, and by feelings of betrayal for thinking about another man. But despite her tears, despite her call for him, the spirit of her husband had stayed away.