“Any sign of the prowler?” Russ inquired.
“Long gone.” Vince regarded the entertainment center and spare furnishings. “I like your decorating style. Most wives would start redoing the place, but you’re marrying the right woman. Rachel’s practically one of the guys.”
Russ seemed at a loss for words. Before he could recover, a small person in a nightgown peered at them from the hall. “What’s a prowler?” Lauren had obviously been listening for a while.
“Someone who pokes around where he doesn’t belong.” Vince crouched at her level. “Hi. I’m Ken and Kim’s—”
“Grandpa!” Her eyes widened. “I saw you!”
“At Keri’s house?” he asked.
Her forehead puckered. “No. I mean…” She glanced around in confusion. “I was in my old house. With my grandpa.”
“You must have been dreaming,” Rachel suggested. “Maybe Mr. Borrego resembles your grandpa, huh?”
A slight nod. “Maybe.”
“Hope it was a good dream.” Vince patted the child’s arm. “Sorry I have to leave. Keri must be wondering what happened to me. Maybe I’ll see you at her house someday.”
“Okay.”
“Speaking of dreams, let’s get you back to bed.” Taking his daughter’s hand, Russ led her down the hall.
“So you’re planning to put down roots,” Vince said to Rachel. “Good idea. I wish more cops gave their families a priority.”
A strange sentiment, considering the source, but obviously he’d changed in the past two years. “Does it seem weird, being back in Villazon?” she asked.
A rueful nod. “I’m sure Lyons wishes I’d disappear permanently. Here’s irony for you—his son rents an apartment in my building. Ben’s a nice kid, although he admits he used to have a drug problem. Well, I’m certainly in no position to criticize, am I?”
Much as Rachel liked Vince, she hoped his return wasn’t going to stir up trouble for the department. Impulsively she inquired, “So you don’t hold any grudges?”
“The only person I blame in this mess is myself.”
“You sure?” In the old days, she’d never have dreamed of expressing doubt about Vince’s veracity. But he wasn’t her boss anymore.
He took no offense. “Norm Kinsey’s bitterness is eating him alive. He was a loose cannon, roughing up prisoners, and he deserved the boot, but the last time I saw him he refused to acknowledge that. It’s a rotten way to live.”
“I imagine so.” Former Lieutenant Kinsey had moved out of town. Gone to Montana to be near relatives, she’d heard.
Vince let himself out onto the porch. “Frank Ferguson and I both try to pound sense into his head, but he has a long list of grievances, even against me. After all, I got to keep my pension. Well, congrats. Your guy seems like a winner.”
Vince moved down the steps with a lot more agility than he used to show. Rachel was glad to see that he’d gotten his act together.
She was heading for bed when Russ returned. A quick study confirmed that his pajamas were neatly creased, although a bit rumpled from the evening’s exertions. “Do you iron those?”
“What?” He followed her downward gaze. “No. They’re new.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she cracked. “As your future wife, I’d hate to think you expect me to iron your pj’s.”
Russ laughed. “I’m not that compulsive. Although some of my friends might think otherwise.”
Rachel wasn’t the least bit sleepy. “We went to bed awfully early,” she observed. “We could stay up and play a round of whatever you choose.”
She realized the suggestiveness of her offer as a series of expressions touched his expressive face. Amusement, hunger, temptation. Resistance won. “I’ll pass, but thanks. By the way, Lauren meeting Keri’s dad right after her dream seems to have had an impact on her.”
“What kind of impact?” They gravitated to the kitchen, where Rachel poured them each a glass of orange juice.
“She seems convinced her grandpa really is searching for her.”
“She’s grieving.” Rachel hadn’t forgotten her own difficult adjustment. “Denial is one of the stages. I had fantasies about my mother moving in with me at the Byers house. Completely unrealistic.”
Out of the blue, he asked, “Who gave you the doll? The one you sleep with.”
Startled, Rachel answered, “My adoptive parents.”
“And you still treasure it.”
“Dinah isn’t an it, she’s a her!” she responded with mock severity. “That doll became my best friend.”
His eyes twinkled. “My daughter’s sleeping with a toy policeman. What do you suppose that means?”
Although Rachel doubted he meant the question seriously, she replied, “Maybe he’s her protector.”
“I’m her protector!” More softly: “And so are you.”
“Give her time.” Rachel stifled a yawn. “Guess I’m more pooped than I realized.”
“My regards to Dinah.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Sliding beneath the covers, she listened to the sounds of Russ moving away through the house. Instinctively, she reached for the doll. But, she conceded, she’d much rather throw her arms around Russ and wreak havoc on those new pajamas.
Even if she had to iron them later.
Chapter Ten
Lauren’s fantasies about grandparents gained rather than lost intensity over the next few days. Aware that the child could control neither her dreams nor her emotions, Russ did his best to provide a sympathetic ear, but he began to worry that she might never feel at home with him.
“Do you think I was wrong, bringing her to live with me? Maybe she’d be better off with experienced parents,” he remarked on Friday to his friend Mike Federov as they returned to their respective offices. They were crossing the enclosed pedestrian bridge that connected the fourth floor of the medical building to that of the hospital, where they’d eaten a late lunch in the cafeteria.
“You believe adoptive parents are necessarily old pros?” The psychologist’s blue eyes reflected skepticism. “I’m more concerned with this pretend-fiancée business than with your lack of experience. When Rachel leaves, that means yet another loss for your daughter.”
“She promised to stay involved, although I grant you, it won’t be the same as living with us.” Russ had told his friend the truth, both because he opposed lying in general and because Mike deserved honesty. “She’s been a blessing. Collects Lauren early from day care, keeps us both in good spirits and understands emotions a lot better than I do.”
The comment failed to distract his friend. “What happens when her condo becomes habitable again?” he persisted.
Russ hated to think about that. Despite Rachel’s slapdash housekeeping style and the danger of giving in to their physical desires, her presence brightened Lauren’s spirits as well as his. On Wednesday, the tedious task of clearing the garage had turned into a lark, thanks to her jokes and funny stories, and afterward she’d introduced Lauren and him to pineapple-ham pizza.
Through the glass surround, he observed several cruisers pulling into the police station across the street. Must be nearing the end of their shift. He’d never noticed such things until he met Rachel.
“The engineers intend to terrace the slope, plant vegetation with deep roots, and cover the hill with mesh until the stuff matures,” he explained. “That has to take at least a few weeks, right?”
Mike cast him a shrewd look. “Sounds as if this engagement might not be so phony after all. You’re pretty eager for her to stick around.”
“Friendship isn’t love.” The comment emerged more forcefully than intended.
“I see.”
Russ nearly added that he hoped what he felt for Rachel wasn’t love. Delightful as the initial stages of romance could be, long-term complications seemed inevitable between two such dissimilar individuals. And with Lauren undergoing such a difficult transition, she deserved all his attention.
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br /> “Any suggestions?” he queried. “About the grandparent fixation, I mean.”
Mike stroked his chin between thumb and forefinger, an unconscious gesture he’d adopted in college. Russ was amused by how much, at that moment, his friend resembled a stereotypical shrink. “I realize matters haven’t always gone smoothly with your folks, but Lauren does have another set of grandparents. Have you talked to them?”
“Not yet.” Russ had been too busy to think about his parents. When he’d informed them of Janine’s pregnancy years ago, they’d approved the decision to relinquish the infant, but surely they were curious about their granddaughter. “Do you suppose Lauren will be upset that they aren’t like the grandparents she lost?”
“You can’t control how people react to each other, but you can give them a chance to form bonds. Your daughter must miss having an extended family.” They reached the elevator, where they had to part, since their offices were on different floors.
“Thanks for the insight.” They shook hands.
“Keep me in the loop,” Mike urged.
“Absolutely.” As the elevator descended, Russ reflected on what lay ahead. His parents would almost certainly welcome Lauren, but what should he tell them about his temporary engagement?
He decided to contact Janine first. Once she’d seen his home and met Rachel, perhaps she’d transfer custody right away. After that, the engagement would be history and his parents wouldn’t have to know.
The notion should have reassured him. Strangely, it did not.
THE SCENT OF POPCORN greeted Russ as he entered the kitchen through the side door later that evening. Although sandwich makings strewed the counters, there was no one in the room. The rat-a-tat noise of popping kernels issued from the front.
Every day an adventure, he mused as he went into the living room.
Amid the sleek furnishings bloomed a carnival-style cart, bright red with the word Popcorn stenciled in yellow on the side. Lauren shrieked with delight as another salvo shook the square glass top. “Can I eat now?”
“We’ll have it with supper.” Rachel, her back turned to Russ, scooped fluffy kernels into red-and-white-striped snack boxes. “We’ll consider this our vegetable.”
“But not a terribly healthy vegetable,” he broke in. Swiveling, Rachel hoisted one of the cartons in a salute.
Lauren ran for a hug. Russ swooped up the little girl. “Where did this gadget come from?”
“Remember I mentioned the traffic sergeant who was engaged for two weeks?” Rachel filled a third container. “This was a wedding gift from his fiancée’s cousin.”
“And he presented it to you on the occasion of your engagement?” Russ released his wiggly daughter, who bounded over to sample the popcorn. “How generous.”
“Yeah. Nice, huh?” Dusting off her jeans, she stood back. “Lucky for us he got sick of popcorn.”
Russ wouldn’t have chosen this particular contrast to his black-and-white color scheme, but the cheery monstrosity pleased Lauren. And he was learning that too much perfection might not be a good thing.
“It’s striking,” he hedged. “Let me change clothes and I’ll help fix the meal.”
“Not necessary. It’s almost ready.”
He remembered his plan to contact Janine. “Are you free tomorrow? I’d like to get my ex to visit.”
“I’ll be working my regular shift.” Rachel handed one of the cartons to Lauren with a warning to hold it straight. “But she’s welcome for dinner. The boyfriend, too.”
Ah, yes, the older man who shuddered at the prospect of stepparenting. Russ owed the man his gratitude. “I’ll make sure to include him.”
In the bedroom, he tossed off his jacket and dialed Janine’s cell. She sounded distracted when she answered, and reported that she and Byron were leaving in the morning on a business trip to New York. After inquiring about Lauren, she assured him she’d get in touch when they returned.
“Thanks for sending the furniture,” he put in.
“It’s a relief to get rid of it. I’ve decided to rent out my parents’ house.” She muttered a curse before noting, “I’m on the freeway. Some idiot just cut me off. I’m so busy between now and tomorrow morning, I can’t think straight.”
“Have a safe trip.” The wait chafed, but Russ had agreed to a one-month trial.
“You can reach me on my cell if there’s a problem.” In the background, a traffic report came on the radio.
“We’ll be fine.” Russ rang off with a lingering sadness at his ex-girlfriend’s lack of maternal feeling for their daughter. At least she didn’t seem to have any regrets about surrendering Lauren.
Choosing to leave the conversation with his parents until after dinner, he changed clothes and went to eat.
TO RACHEL, calling one’s family was a casual matter. Just, “Hey, guys, it’s me,” and you caught up on the week’s events. They always had interesting stuff to discuss, such as the latest foster kids’ antics and how her sister Kathy was on track to graduate from Cal State in June.
Russ, however, appeared on edge after dinner. He’d informed her that he hoped to drive his daughter to meet his parents tomorrow, but kept postponing the call, first to wash the dishes and then to play Chutes and Ladders with Lauren. He hadn’t discussed his plans with his daughter, either.
Rachel would be happy to miss that gathering. Russ had described Maxwell McKenzie as a prominent internist and Lois McKenzie as a charity volunteer. They sounded a bit stuffy, and besides, she wasn’t keen on deceiving his parents. As for what she intended to tell her own, she hadn’t puzzled that out yet.
She expected him to place the call while she gave Lauren a bath, but when they emerged, Russ was on the computer, paying bills. Procrastinating, more accurately.
Lauren, her freshly washed hair falling in natural curls, climbed onto her father’s lap. Obligingly, he finished posting a payment and moved the cursor to the toolbar. “Do you have a favorite Web site?”
“Let’s e-mail Grandpa and Grandma!” Lauren cried.
Russ’s shoulders twitched, a movement Rachel interpreted as dismay. “Honey, we can’t e-mail dead people.”
“Try!” she demanded.
He exchanged glances with Rachel. They’d gone over this territory repeatedly since his daughter had met Vince, without effect. “Sweetheart, when people die, we can’t reach them.” He released a long breath and took the plunge. “Your grandpa and grandma were Janine’s mom and dad. I have a mom and dad, too. I’d like you to meet them.”
“Are they my grandparents?” the little girl asked.
“Yes. But not the same grandparents.” His arms tightened around her. “I’d hate for you to be disappointed.”
Rachel sat on the edge of her foldout bed and waited for Lauren to reply. Hard to assess how much a five-year-old grasped. “Remember that man you met, Ken and Kim’s grandpa? He’s different from yours, too.”
“He was nice.” Lauren nodded. “Okay.”
Her father lowered her to the floor. “While I arrange with them, why don’t you eat your night-night snack?”
Determination pinched her face. “Let me talk to them!”
“In a minute,” he responded.
“Me first!”
“No. You’ll have to be patient,” he said with a hint of strain.
“Me!” She stomped on the carpet.
Weariness and eagerness formed an explosive combination, Rachel reflected, and clapped her hands for attention. “How about more popcorn?”
“After!” The kid didn’t lack willpower.
“It’s now or never,” Rachel said, folding her arms, prepared to enforce that statement and carry the kid off to the bedroom if she threw a full-fledged tantrum.
“You’re mean!”
“Too mean to fix popcorn?”
Lauren must have realized she was pushing her luck. “I’m sorry. Okay. Let’s go.”
The gratitude in Russ’s gaze sent a quiver down Rachel’s spine. Sharing
little challenges like these brought a precious sense of intimacy. She only wished she were the type of woman guys fell in love with, instead of the kind they clapped on the shoulder.
In the living room, she put fresh kernels in the machine and activated the air popper. While Lauren danced around waving her hands as if the tiny explosions were music, Rachel kept an ear tuned to the one-sided conversation from the adjacent room, from which Russ’s voice carried in snippets.
He exchanged pleasantries and launched into an explanation about taking custody of his daughter, but broke off to ask in surprise, “Really? Who told you?”
So they’d already heard about the custody. Small world, Rachel thought.
“This only happened a few days ago…last Sunday…getting her settled has been hectic…I’m sorry if you felt embarrassed.”
They were laying a guilt trip on him about the delay. Rachel presumed they hadn’t heard of the engagement as well, since she caught no reference to it. No doubt that would have infuriated them even more.
The conversation continued in that vein for a while, with Russ becoming increasingly irritable. Lauren was halfway through her snack by the time he steered the subject to proposing he introduce their granddaughter.
He emerged from the bedroom with his jaw clenched. “Honey, they’d like to talk to you.”
“Yay!” Setting aside her popcorn, Lauren raced for the office. Rachel trailed behind.
The little girl snatched the phone to her ear. “Hi!” Since shyness wasn’t her nature, she conversed freely, informing the McKenzies about her new friends and kindergarten. “I’m having a snack,” she told them. “Rachel made popcorn.”
Russ reached for the phone, but with a mischievous grin, his daughter ducked into the desk’s kneehole with it. “Rachel? She’s marrying Russ,” the child announced from hiding.
Their best-laid plans had just gone awry. Rachel didn’t mind so much for her own sake, but Russ was clearly bracing for trouble. “I’ll tuck Lauren in bed,” she whispered. “You tell them the truth about our engagement.” That ought to ease matters.
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