by Baird, Ginny
“You too.”
He stepped toward her, and Ventura subconsciously inched back.
Then he withdrew, and she moved forward.
They continued this chicken dance a moment before both burst out laughing. He extended his hand, and she shook it.
“Well, good night,” she said, “and thanks again.”
“I’ll call you about the Fourth,” he said.
Richard returned from his gala completely worn out. He relieved the babysitter, then picked up the few odds and ends that were still scattered around downstairs. Noting a couple of children’s books lying on the living room floor, he scooped them up, recognizing them as the stories the kids had been reading with Ventura. He loosened his tie and carried the books upstairs. He’d set them on his nightstand, then shelve them properly in the kids’ rooms in the morning once Ricky and Elisa were awake.
He sat heavily on his bed and kicked off his shoes, thinking he was growing tired of these society things. While it was important for him to attend and stay connected, he wagered he’d have a lot more fun going with someone he could actually talk to. Somebody warm and witty, who looked like a house on fire in a blue blouse pinned together with safety pins. Feeling too tired to even slip out of his clothes, Richard settled back on the bed for a moment, propping himself up with some pillows. I’ll just flip through some of these stories for a sec, he told himself. Then, I’ll get the motivation to get ready for bed.
Two hours later, Richard awakened with a jolt, greeted by the blazing lights in his bedroom. A storybook lay splayed against his chest, and he still wore his tuxedo shirt and slacks. I must have dozed off, he thought, slapping the storybook shut. In a flash, he remembered his torrid dream. He set the book aside in shock, feeling his temperature spike. Papa Bear?
Chapter Eight
Richard and Ventura stood in his kitchen, stuffing sandwiches into backpacks.
“I really appreciate you working Saturday,” he said. “It’s beyond the call.”
“Well, you certainly couldn’t handle both kids on a bike all on your own. Besides, I’m happy to support anything that gets the kids outdoors—where a team sign-up isn’t involved.”
He smirked at her but didn’t mind the ribbing. In truth, Ventura had been a breath of fresh air for all of them. She’d convinced Richard not to renew a few of their activities so Ricky and Elisa would have more time for what she called kid stuff, like playing hide-and-seek and setting up forts using lots of linens. Richard wasn’t bothered by the mess. It made the house seem more inviting somehow. Like an honest-to-goodness family lived there.
All week long he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to see Ventura during the weekend. He’d become used to her being around during the week, and—the truth was—when she wasn’t here, nothing seemed right. The kids got restless and grumpy, and Richard could never think up enough activities to entertain them. It was particularly hard when they protested they didn’t like doing things without Ventura. While he’d never tell his kids, Richard secretly felt that way too.
“Jason sometimes comes with us,” Richard said. “But this weekend he has plans.”
“I know,” Ventura said with a sly smile. She was thrilled that when she’d mentioned Mary to Jason, he’d taken an immediate interest. He’d asked for her number right off the bat, and now the two of them were off eating crabs in Maryland.
“He works hard,” Richard said. “He deserves a life.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “I suppose we all do.”
Richard appeared suddenly unnerved by her stare.
“I can babysit at night sometime,” she offered. “I mean, if you’d like to get out.”
“That’s really nice, Ventura. I’m just not sure where I’d go or who I’d go with.”
“Richard?” she said, pointing to his backpack. “I think you just put a box of butter in there.”
His temples reddened. “Oh, right. Pretty silly of me,” he said, taking it back out and popping it in the fridge.
Meanwhile, Mary and Jason sat at a long wooden table in the small village of St. Michael’s, Maryland. They were outside on a dock abutting the water, surrounded by groups of others chatting happily and drinking beer. Newspaper had been spread out on the table before them. Heaps of freshly steamed crabbed sat in mounds ready for the taking. Jason handed Mary a small hammer and a pick. She stared at him in horror.
“They still look alive.”
“Oh, they’re dead, all right,” he said, selecting a large one and snapping off the legs. He sucked out some of the white meat extending from a joint. “And tasty.”
Mary’s felt the blood drain from her face as she primly arranged her legs under the table. She wore strappy high-heeled sandals, a pretty yellow sundress, and a big floppy hat to match. “When you said you were taking me out for crabs, I thought you meant at a restaurant. You know, with margaritas?”
Jason laughed lightly and popped his crab in two at its breastplate. A fine liquid spurted forth and Mary jumped back.
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic grin. He studied the table in front of her, then met her eyes. “You haven’t touched yours.”
“I…um.” Mary stared down at the tiny creature that appeared to stare back.
“Blue crabs are the best.” To prove it, Jason pried a nice hunk of meat from his shell and held it up to Mary’s mouth. She leaned forward to take a bite, and my, wasn’t it delicious. So fresh and tasty. If only she hadn’t seen where it had come from. It was practically cannibalistic, tearing these tiny bay creatures apart.
Jason lifted an eyebrow. “Never done this before, have you?”
Mary took a swig from her bottle of beer, steeling her nerves. “Of course I have,” she said with a little laugh. “It’s just been a while.”
“Hmm.” Jason smiled. “Tell you what, why don’t I do the first one for you.”
All of them would be good, Mary thought but didn’t say. Besides the fact that the process turned her stomach, she’d just gotten her nails done yesterday. She adjusted the brim of her hat, devising a plan. “I kind of liked it when you fed me that bite,” she said saucily.
“Did you now?” he replied, clearly intrigued. He took a sip of his own beer and set it down. “Want to try that again?”
Mary nodded, and Jason prepared her another perfect morsel. “Yummy!” she said in an effort to encourage him.
Jason reached for another crab, then met her gaze. “You’re planning to have me do this all night, aren’t you?”
Mary wrinkled her brow and asked weakly, “Do you mind?”
“Nope.” He leaned forward to give Mary a quick peck on the lips, and her whole world brightened. “Not one bit.”
Ventura and Richard glided down the path with Elisa seated on the back of Ventura’s bike and Ricky situated behind his father. As they approached the water, Ventura spied a whole host of rides up ahead of them. There was a merry-go-round, a mini roller coaster, and even a Ferris wheel, its bright lights twinkling in the twilight. Cheery music played as groups of families ushered children into lines, many of them holding big puffs of cotton candy.
Ventura paused her bike, and Richard dismounted beside her.
“What’s going on?” she asked, admiring the pretty display reflecting in the Potomac before them.
He got Ricky off his bike, then steadied Ventura’s so she could likewise dismount and help Elisa down.
“It’s the summer carnival.” He stared at the scene a bit wistfully. “Vicky and I used to come down here sometimes. I’d forgotten all about it until just now.” He’d planned a simple outing for the four of them, an evening picnic in the small park bordering the river. But maybe this was even better.
“Can we go?” Ricky asked, his gaze hopeful.
Richard glanced uncertainly at Ventura. “I don’t think Ventura had planned to stay that long.”
“But I want to get my face painted.” Elisa tugged at Ventura’s hand with a pleading look. “Puleeze, V
entura?”
“Pretty please?” Ricky begged.
Ventura’s face brightened as she looked from one of them to the other. “I’d love to,” she said with smile.
Ventura, Richard, and the kids wound through the crowd past a stage where musicians played. The children had painted faces and held helium balloons.
“I think I’ve had about all the fun I can handle,” Richard said to Ventura. “How about you?”
“But we haven’t done the Ferris wheel!” Ricky protested.
“Yeah!” Elisa said.
Richard glanced at Ventura, and she shrugged in agreement. “No fair’s complete without the Ferris wheel.”
Richard held up a hand. “All right. I can see when I’m outnumbered.”
A few moments later, he held back the door to the small compartment. “Okay, kids, hop in!” They scrambled aboard. “Ventura?” he prodded, politely waiting for her to board next.
“Oh no, I wasn’t planning to ride,” she said. “I’ll just watch from below.”
Ricky and Elisa begged together, “But you’ve got to come. Pu-leeze?”
Richard wryly twisted his lips. “Now who’s outnumbered?”
“Okay,” she said with a laugh, “you’ve got me. But I’m going to warn you, I’m a little scared of heights.”
“No worries,” Richard said, meeting her eyes. “You’ll have me right beside you.”
Both kids sat together, which meant Richard would have to join Ventura on her side.
Ventura grinned tightly and tried not to think of that movie where the entire Ferris wheel broke loose and rolled into the ocean. Of course, this was just the Potomac River here.
She uncertainly climbed inside, and Richard joined her, pulling the compartment door shut until it latched.
Suddenly, the Ferris wheel lurched, sending their car swinging sideways.
“Whee!” Ricky and Elisa cried as they began to rise into the air.
Ventura clutched her seat with both hands, fearing she might faint.
“It’s all right, I’ve got you,” Richard said, bringing his arm around her. He gave her shoulder a light tug and motioned with his chin. “Look over there.”
Now that the sun had set, the view of the carnival reflected in the water was even more magical.
“I see a boat!” Elisa cried.
“Two!” Ricky echoed.
“Those are dinner-cruise ships,” Richard explained.
The scenery took her breath away. “It’s beautiful.”
Richard turned his face toward hers, capturing her in his gaze. “Yes.”
A light breeze rippled over them, and Ventura’s heart stilled. If it had been only the two of them, she wasn’t sure what might have happened next. By the look in Richard’s eyes, it would have been a kiss.
The car made its way back down, music and lights swirling around them. Then they were sky-bound again, rising and falling over and over together. Richard snuggled her in and held her close and Ventura’s heart beat faster as Richard’s warmth beside her provided comfort and stability in the night. Suddenly, the Ferris wheel jerked to a halt, startling Ventura. “What are they doing?”
Richard held her tighter. “Letting people off.”
The kids’ faces fell. “Aw,” they said together, obviously not ready for the ride to end. And they weren’t the only ones. Ventura could have stayed here all night.
There was a loud squeak; then their compartment started to lower.
“Going down,” Richard announced.
I most certainly am, Ventura thought, stunned by the revelation. Going down and falling fast.
The moment they got home, Richard and Ventura readied the kids for bed. They were exhausted from all the fun, and both dropped off to sleep immediately.
“Ventura,” Richard said as they quietly crept down the stairs. “About the Ferris wheel…”
She halted on a lower step and gripped the railing. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“I know, but I shouldn’t have. I got carried away, I guess. The day…the bike ride…the river.”
Ventura met his eyes. “Richard, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No, but I wanted to.”
“Richard…”
“Ventura,” he said sincerely. “I think you’re terrific. Wonderful in about a million ways. But the thing is, you’re employed here.”
“I know.”
“Which means…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m making a total mess of this, aren’t I?”
“No.”
He turned toward her, nearly pinning her to the railing, and Ventura’s pulse raced. Oh, how she wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her, the way he’d seemed to want to on the Ferris wheel. The way he appeared to need to now.
“I understand you’re involved with someone,” he said, his voice gravelly.
“Charles,” she said weakly.
“That’s just another reason this is wrong.” He pursed his lips and turned away. When he looked back at her, there was a sad resignation in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you as a nanny. Elisa and Ricky would be devastated.”
“I don’t see how anything’s changed,” she said, when in truth she knew that everything had.
“Can I call you a cab?”
“That would be a good idea.”
“Ventura? What are you doing?” Mary asked, striding into the room and dropping her big floppy hat onto the bed. Ventura sat on the sofa with a whole box of fortune cookies on the coffee table before her. She’d cracked open nearly every one.
She kept pulling crescents apart and examining their slips of paper. “Looking for something.”
“But I thought you said the ones from the grocery store were no good? The special ones came from Chinese take-out?” Ventura nodded toward the kitchen, and Mary peeked around the corner, spying two huge grocery bags from Zen’s stuffed to the brim. Mounds of broken fortune cookies littered the kitchen table, stacks of fortunes piled high.
Mary drew a breath and came and sat beside Ventura on the sofa. “Okay. What’s going on?”
Ventura looked her way. “Did you know that nine out of ten of these are repeats?”
“Well, no. Not specifically. But I guess now that you say so, it makes sense. It’s like a Magic Eight Ball, right? There are probably a set number of responses. Predictions. Whatever.”
Ventura set her jaw. “But in fourteen years there’s a single fortune I’ve only gotten once.” And this hadn’t been for lack of trying. Ventura had probably opened more fortunes cookies than any other girl on planet Earth. She’d convinced herself long ago that if she could only find that same fortune again, she’d be able to take her first receiving it as less of a sign. But the truth was her receiving it at age eleven had been a defining moment. The fortune promised her a certain kind of future, while her father had proved in person that fairy-tale futures don’t exist.
After he’d left for Kenya, Ventura had never seen him again. Not even once. At first, he’d sent post cards. One from Mozambique, another from Nepal… He was traveling around the world, making his way as a journalist and forgetting all about his family. Ventura’s sister later learned their dad had made a new one. He’d married someone from Scotland and now lived Brazil, with a much younger set of kids that he shared with his brand new wife. Ventura, Hope, and her mom were collateral damage in his journalistic ambition. She’d never really understood how he could have been heartless enough to leave them, when that wasn’t the father she remembered. Over the years, Ventura grew to sadly understand that the man she’d recalled was just an illusion. She’d never really known her dad at all.
Mary glanced back toward the kitchen where hordes of fortunes plastered the refrigerator. “Which one is it?”
“It’s not in there.”
“No?”
“I keep the special one in my wallet. With me all the time.”
“What does it say?”
Ventura shook her head. “I’d rathe
r not talk about it.”
“Why not?” she said, her voice tinged with hurt. “I’m your best friend.”
Ventura studied her kindly. “Of course you are. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”
“Then why…?”
“It’s personal, you know? So personal that it’s almost become a secret wish.”
“You mean, like the kind someone makes on their birthday when blowing out candles?”
“Like that exactly.”
“You’re afraid if you tell me, it won’t come true.”
Ventura felt her chin tremble. “Oh, Mary, what if it never comes true?” She hunched forward with a sob, and Mary wound her arms around her.
“Hey, you listen to me. If it’s a good one, then it’s bound to. You’re a great person, Ventura. You deserve good things. They’ll happen. Just you wait and see.”
“I think I love Richard!” Ventura wailed.
Mary pulled back with a start and met Ventura’s bleary eyes. “What? You mean, you’re still crushing on him?”
“No!” Ventura sniffed. “I mean, I want to have his babies.”
Mary’s eyes went wide. “Ricky and Elisa?”
Ventura nodded, tears streaming from her eyes. “And other ones too.”
“Oh my God.” Mary tugged Ventura back toward her chest and hugged her tight. “How on earth did this happen? What about Charles?”
“I don’t know,” Ventura said with a whimper. “He’s such a great guy!”
Mary patted her back. “Does Richard feel the same?”
There was silence as Ventura collected her thoughts.
“Ventura?” Mary asked again. “Does Richard feel the same?”
She broke Mary’s embrace and grabbed a napkin off the coffee table to dab her eyes. “He wants me to stay the nanny.”
“Ha!” Mary said, indignant. “So what? He can have his cake and eat it too?”
“No, nothing like that. He wants us to continue as we were. Totally on the level.”
“Can you do that?” Mary asked with concern.