Still Waters

by Kathleen Creighton

  "Relax," Larry Whitlaw told him as they were crossing the courtyard of the county building complex. "It's routine. The judge will ask a few questions, you answer in simple sentences, and that's it."

  "Yeah, sure." Zack hadn't been in a courtroom since the day he'd faced a judge in juvenile traffic court about his first-and last-speeding ticket. He didn't remember it as having been a particularly pleasant experience. The judge had bawled him out and given him a choice of paying a fine or going to traffic school and having his driving record wiped clean. It hadn't been a hard decision to make. And then his dad had taken the fine out of his allowance anyway, and impounded his car keys for two weeks to boot.

  That had been another time, another place, another courthouse, but Zack had an idea they were all pretty much alike. Big, dim, cold, and intimidating-a hell of a place for a little, tiny kid. He said as much to Larry.

  The psychologist threw him a look as he dodged a gardener with a leaf blower. "Oh, Theresa won't be in the courtroom. The judge will talk to her privately in chambers." He raised his voice above the noise of the blower. "You won't even see Theresa today."

  "Oh." Zack was surprised at how disappointed he was. "I don't see how a judge's chambers are much better," he said irritably. "It still seems like a hell of a thing for a little kid to have to face all alone."

  "Don't worry about her," Larry said, chuckling. "I know what you're thinking, but believe me, Theresa will be okay. Judge Bergman's chambers happen to be about as depressing and intimidating as a bowlful of daffodils. And besides, she'll have Maddy with her, and probably another caseworker-"

  "Maddy?" Zack halted in the middle of the courtyard beside a huge fountain inlaid with Spanish tile.

  Larry checked his long stride and looked back at him, frowning at the interruption.

  "Yeah, Maddy Gordon. Know her?"

  "As a matter of fact, yes. We met at the pool. She's the one who told me to keep an eye on-"

  "That's right. I'd forgotten." Larry snapped his fingers and took off again at his top speed-a loose-jointed lope. "Great girl… terrific with the kids. Uses puppets." He beamed at Zack over his shoulder.

  Zack had to stretch some to catch up. "Yeah, I know."

  Larry held the courthouse door open wide. He was trying hard to keep his expression innocent. "Let's see… How long's it been since Carol died?"

  Zack threw him a look. "Two years. Why?"

  All Larry would say was "Hmm," as he sprinted for the elevator. Zack caught up with him in time to squeeze through the closing doors. In silence they watched the numbers above the door light up, one by one.

  "I'm giving her swimming lessons," Zack announced as the bell dinged for the fourth floor.

  "Good for you," Larry murmured placidly, bolting through the door and down the hall.

  Zack felt a lot better, knowing Maddy was going to be with Theresa. Larry was right-she was good with kids. He remembered the way Theresa had clung to her instinctively that day at the pool. In fact, he remembered everything about the way they'd looked together, with Theresa's great big owl-eyes peering at him, and her head just about on a level with Maddy's thighs…

  Well, he was glad she was here-for Theresa's sake.

  He actually managed to sustain that fiction until the moment she walked into the courtroom.

  She was wearing tan slacks and a short-sleeved pink sweater, something so soft and fuzzy-looking, it made him want to cuddle it. Her hair… She really didn't wear it in any particular style, nothing faddish or trendy, anyway. It just hung there, down to where it brushed her shoulders, and when she moved, it swung with a silky ripple that reminded him of ripe wheat blowing in the wind. Everything about her made him want to touch.

  "Hi, Larry," she said. She sat down next to the psychologist, then leaned across him to add in a breathy whisper, "Hi, Zack." Her cheeks were flushed and her mouth looked soft. Zack found, to his dismay, that he wanted to touch that part of her too.

  She smiled at him, mercifully unaware of the images in his head, and murmured, "You've worn a tie." She seemed to want to say something else, but at that moment there was a small commotion at the back of the courtroom. Maddy glanced over her shoulder, then quickly faced front.

  "That's the uncle and aunt," she said in a low voice. "Doesn't look as though they've brought counsel."

  "Told you they wouldn't contest," Larry said smugly. "We'll be out of here in ten minutes."

  Zack had told himself he wouldn't look at the man he'd reported for abusing a child. He'd told himself he had to stay calm and in control to make a good impression on the judge. But he couldn't help himself. The compulsion to turn his head was overpowering.

  He didn't know what he'd expected. Some kind of monster, for sure. Something subhuman. He hadn't expected a perfectly ordinary-looking couple, just a couple you might run into in the supermarket, or at a PTA meeting. The man was dark, with curly hair and a receding hairline and a moustache. He wasn't a big man, but he looked fit. The woman had light brown hair cut short. She seemed nondescript, and wore a scared look that Zack thought was probably permanent. She kept looking around as if she expected something awful to pop out at her any minute. Her he could feel sorry for.

  He turned back to face the judge's bench, but he wasn't seeing it. He kept seeing Theresa's face, all bruised and swollen, with that one red eye. And then, without warning, he saw something he'd thought he'd managed to banish from his memory: Josh's face, as it had looked when he'd carried him out of the pool. And then the two faces, overlaying each other…

  "Zack. Are you okay?"

  It was Maddy's voice, tight with concern. Her hand was on his knee. He stared at her like a person waking from a nightmare. He wanted to say something to her, to reassure her, but at that moment the bailiff intoned, "All rise…"

  The present reclaimed him; the hearing had begun.

  "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Larry asked. His grin was disgustingly cheerful, but his eyes were kind, and Zack knew he meant to be soothing.

  They were back in the courtyard again, basking in welcome sunshine beside the Spanish fountain. Zack scowled at the merrily tumbling water, forgetting he'd ever touted its tranquilizing properties. "Still think you should have pressed charges," he grumbled. "That guy should be put away."

  "So his wife can go on welfare?" Larry said mildly. "And the guy comes out angrier and more violent than when he went in?" His eyebrows lifted reproachfully. "Are you interested in justice or revenge, my friend? We've got the child. He'll never harm her again."

  "Temporarily."

  "Oh, well, that's just procedure. The permanent-custody hearing's been set-"

  "For July seventh. That's only thirty days." Zack shot a look of appeal at Maddy, who seemed to be avoiding his eyes. Either that or she'd developed a sudden fascination with Spanish tile. "That doesn't seem like very much time."

  "It's a little shorter than usual," Larry said, "but that's because the aunt testified that there aren't any other relatives willing and able to take in a child. The court just needs enough time to verify that fact-they don't want her in limbo any longer than necessary- and then…" Larry beamed. "Theresa's ours."

  "Mine," Zack corrected him, glowering.

  Larry's smile vanished. "Don't get your hopes up," he cautioned, looking grave and Lincolnesque. "As I've told you, you've either got to go talk to those people-the Sotos-and get them to agree to a private arrangement, or apply through the county. And as a single male parent…"He shrugged. "There's a long waiting list of couples ahead of you. Some of them have been waiting for years."

  "Yeah, I know." Zack was frowning at Maddy, who was still steadfastly refusing to look at him. Dammit, what was wrong with her? She had to know he was trying to catch her eye!

  "Where is Theresa now?" he asked softly, stubbornly keeping his gaze on Maddy's averted face.

  Larry, with the kind of perceptiveness that made him such a good therapist, remained silent, so Maddy had no choice but to answer. Zack saw her
shoulders rise and fall with a deeply drawn breath, as if she needed to fortify herself in order to talk to him.

  "She's with a foster family," she said. "A really super family, named Frownfelter." She smiled, and added softly, "When I went to pick her up for the meeting with the judge, she was up to her elbows in peanut-butter-cookie dough."

  Larry chuckled, but Zack refused to be sidetracked.

  "Where is she now? How is she getting home?"

  "Mr. Frownfelter picked her up and took her back. It was his lunch hour…"

  Her voice trailed off. It was odd, he thought. First she hadn't seemed to want to look at him at all, and now that he'd established eye contact with her, she couldn't seem to break it. Matter of fact, neither could he.

  Not that he wanted to. She had such nice eyes. Gray, rather than blue, which he decided he liked better, because they were softer. And she had very dark lashes for someone as blond as she. Of course, he knew very well that for the price of a bottle of mascara anyone could have dark eyelashes, but hers seemed too soft and too thick to be anything but real. As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it, he didn't think she put much of anything on her face. Her skin… She had really nice skin, and like everything else about her, it made him imagine how it would feel against his own.

  "Well…" Larry's cough was meant to be discreet, and sounded amused. "Time to get back to work. Maddy, can I give you a ride back to the clinic?"

  Maddy actually shook herself, like someone trying to wake up. "Oh. No, thanks anyway, Larry. I have my car here."

  "Right. Forgot. Okay, see you back at the ranch. And you hang in there, Zack. Patience, remember." Larry went loping across the courtyard toward the parking lot. Maddy turned as if to follow, but Zack put a hand on her arm.

  "See you tonight?" he asked.

  "What?" She seemed flustered. It gave her a nice touch of pink across the cheekbones.

  "Your next swimming lesson." His voice felt furry in his throat. "This evening, same time, same station- right?"

  "Oh. Right." She cleared her throat nervously. Good grief, he thought. Was she still afraid of him? "I'll see you later, I guess…"

  "Yeah, you will."

  "Okay then, "bye."

  " 'Bye."

  Scintillating conversations they had, the two of them, Zack thought sourly as he watched her make her way carefully across the courtyard's uneven tile paving. It frustrated him that he wasn't getting to know her as fast as he wanted to. He'd thought if he could just get her away from her puppets…

  It occurred to him that Theresa might have somehow gotten in the way. He didn't know why, but ever since last night, something had definitely come between him and Maddy.

  Theresa. Thirty days. Damn! He had just thirty days in which to find the stomach and the self-control to go to those people-the Sotos-and persuade them to relinquish custody directly to him. Either that, he thought with amusement, or he had thirty days in which to get married and move himself up in the county adoption board's eligibility ratings.

  A short, ironic laugh escaped him. The only woman he'd even thought of in those terms in two years was just escaping around a hibiscus hedge, dashing for the parking lot for all the world as if she were escaping from him. He had a feeling it would take a lot more than thirty days to bring her around to thinking along the same lines!

  It sure looked as if his best bet were the aunt and uncle.

  "Hey! You."

  Zack looked around and muttered, "Speak of the devil," under his breath. Theresa's uncle was bulldozing his way across the courtyard toward him, with his wife clinging to his arm like a sea anchor.

  "You're the guy from the pool, aren't you?" Soto said. "The swimming teacher." He managed to make the identification sound like an insult.

  "Yes, I am," Zack said, proud of his calm. "And as a matter of fact, I'd like to talk to you. It's about-"

  "Well, buddy, I've got a few things I'd like to say to you too. You're the guy who started this whole thing, aren't you?"

  "Joe-"

  "Shut up, Carleen!"

  The man had shaken his wife off and was facing Zack across a few feet of tiled courtyard. His face was dark and angry, and his arms hung at his sides at the ready, like a gunfighter's.

  Zack knew very well that at this point, discretion dictated a strategic withdrawal. So what did he do? He folded his arms across his chest and said very politely, "I reported it, if that's what you are making reference to."

  "Look, I don't know who the hell you think you are, butting into a man's private business. I got a right to discipline a kid who smart-mouths me in my own home, you got that? You made a lot of trouble for me, you know that? I got cops hassling me, I could lose my job… Hey, I really oughta let you have it!"

  "Joe!"

  "Oh, now, I don't think you'd do that," Zack drawled. "I'm not a little kid."

  He'd almost expected it. Hell, he'd probably invited it. But it was a shock to him anyway. He hadn't been hit in anger since fourth grade, when a kid named Hank Plunkett had bloodied his nose and given him a fat lip with one punch. It had come as a shock to him then, too, and he'd reacted reflexively. His instinctive response had left poor old Hank sitting in a puddle of water, clutching his middle and gasping like a netted fish. At that point Zack had touched his face, discovered blood, and had run for home, howling his head off.

  It was interesting to discover how little had changed in twenty years.

  His reflexes were still good, and his instincts for self-defense about the same. This time his assailant wound up in a fountain rather than a rain puddle, but his posture and facial expression reminded Zack a lot of Hank Plunkett. So did the sounds he was making.

  At that point Zack touched his own lip, discovered blood, and decided it was time he headed on home.

  The only difference twenty years made, as far as he could see, was that he wasn't howling his head off.

  He did stop to mutter an apology to Theresa's aunt, who was standing frozen with shock, her mouth hanging open. He felt genuinely sorry for her. She had a tough time ahead of her if she stayed with that guy-As Zack walked to his car he wasn't feeling particularly proud of himself, but he wasn't ashamed, either. He told himself he hadn't been spoiling for a fight, and in fact had behaved with remarkable restraint. He just couldn't decide whether he was glad or sorry Maddy hadn't been there to see it.

  Then it occurred to him. Damn! he thought. There went his chance for a private deal!

  He gave a sardonic laugh that hurt his swelling lip, winced, and muttered, "Ouch!" And he thought, I guess this means I'll have to get married after all____________________

  Zack didn't really mean that. Even if Maddy-or any other woman-had been willing, he'd never have done a thing like that to her. As far as he was concerned, there was only one good reason to marry, and that was love. He'd loved Carol, and she'd loved him, and they'd both loved Josh. He'd never marry again unless he could give that kind of wholehearted, unselfish love. A woman had a right to expect that much.

  He knew why Larry Whitlaw had asked how long it had been since Carol's accident. The psychologist was telling him it was high time he stopped mourning and got on with his life. The thing was, he didn't feel as if he were still mourning, and he had an idea his life was moving right along whether he was ready for it to do so or not. Just because he wasn't actively looking for someone didn't mean he was avoiding relationships. When and if the right person came along, he was pretty sure he'd know it.

  Just as he'd known that Theresa was the child for him. Not to take Josh's place-you couldn't ever replace one child with another. Kids weren't interchangeable. Until that day at the pool, when he'd squatted down in front of that tiny little girl and come face to face with those dark saucer eyes, he hadn't even realized how much he'd missed having somebody to love. Somebody who really needed him. When he met the woman he could love, maybe not exactly the same way he'd loved Carol but at least as deeply, he'd recognize her too.

  He had a sudden, d
iscomfitting vision, a memory, that was as clear as a video-taped replay: a pair of long legs, not deeply tanned, but creamy smooth; an absolutely spectacular body that looked as if it had been dipped in India ink; a face so frozen, it had lost all expression, except for the fear in the eyes…

  It struck him that it would really be funny, wouldn't it, if it turned out he'd found both loves in the same moment?

  Dahlia looked up suspiciously as he invaded her kitchen in search of a snack. "What are you grinning about, Zachary?" she asked.

  With maturity and originality he singsonged, "I'll never tell." Still grinning, he snagged a handful of the cheese she was grating into a bowl and deftly evaded her attempt to slap his hand. "What's this for?"

  "Dinner," Dahlia muttered darkly, "unless you stick that hand in here again, in which case you're going to be wearing it."

  "Hmm. What's for dinner?"

  "Why are you asking?"

  He leaned against the counter and nibbled cheese with studied nonchalance. "Just wondered. Maddy's coming for a lesson after a while. Thought I'd ask her to stay for dinner, if there's going to be plenty…"

  Dahlia threw him a look. "It's lasagne. And you know I always make enough for an army." She went back to grating cheese. "Pretty girl," she said with a sniff, giving him a sidelong glance.

  "Who? Maddy?" His expression, he hoped, was one of complete innocence.

  "Don't 'Who? Maddy?' me, Zachary London." Dahlia lifted an elbow in a halfhearted effort to dodge the kiss he planted on her cheek, and threatened to break into a smile. The smile vanished as she got a close look at him. "Zachary! What happened to your face? Son, what did you do?"

  "Oops," Zack muttered, and put his hand over his mouth-too late. "It's nothing. Ran into a door."

  "Sure, and I'm Snow White! Come here and let me look at you!"

  "Come on, Dahl-"

  "I said come on over here! You've been in a fight!" She put her hands on his shoulders and peered sternly into his face. "Don't you lie to me, Zachary. I raised five boys. I know a fat lip when I see one!"