by Pamela Bauer
A glance at the reservation desk told her the plane had just arrived from Los Angeles. The possibility that he was an actor and not a day-care father increased. He certainly had the good looks to be one of the Hollywood crowd. Could he be on his way to Tyler, just as she was?
He looked up and their eyes connected for the briefest of moments. Frannie was right; he was a hunk. Automatically, Kika’s lips parted in a grin. He looked away, but not before she had noticed a flicker of interest. She continued on her way, dragging her suitcase behind her.
When she arrived at the rental-car counter, there was a line of people waiting to be served. Tired, Kika set her briefcase on the floor beside her suitcase. As she dug through her wallet for her credit card, she sensed someone come up behind her.
A quick glance told her it was the man from T.J.’s video. He was even better-looking up close than he had been from a distance. Automatically, Kika’s eyes were drawn to his left hand. There was no wedding ring.
Of course, she knew that didn’t mean he wasn’t married, but at least there wasn’t an obvious Keep Off sign. Unashamedly and with a professional eye, she looked him over, taking in the details she hadn’t had time to notice at the gate—his short, straight nose, the little mole right beneath his chin, the dark hairs on the back of his hands. He was a fine specimen of manhood—in the professional sense, of course. It wouldn’t surprise her if he were an actor.
And he smelled good. It was an unfamiliar fragrance. In her line of business, she had interviewed many men, most of them wearing designer colognes, but this one she didn’t recognize.
Always thinking of work, she made a mental inventory of the clients she thought might be interested in the “guy who gets the girl” look. She debated whether she should give him her business card with the suggestion that he contact her. She could find him plenty of work. Before she said a word, however, he spoke to her.
“If you’re not careful, you might lose something,” he stated in a voice that was as impersonal and polite as a taxicab driver’s.
Kika glanced down to see that her suitcase had come partially unzipped and a pair of red bikini briefs threatened to fall out. With an embarrassed grin, she bent down and pulled the zipper shut around the underwear. “Thanks.” With the ease of someone who had years of experience flirting with men, she allowed her gaze to linger on him just a bit longer than was necessary, a hint of her smile remaining.
He nodded and glanced at his wristwatch, clearly indicating he had no interest in any further conversation.
His reaction didn’t surprise Kika. She chalked it up to the typical arrogance she encountered whenever she worked with extremely good-looking men.
This fellow obviously didn’t want to be bothered. Which was fine, since she really had no reason to flirt with him anyway. All she knew about him was that he had been in a children’s video. She was relieved when the clerk at the desk said, “Next.”
Kika moved to the counter, all the time aware of the man behind her. As she waited for her rental agreement to be processed, he, too, stepped up to the counter just a few feet away from her. While he completed his transaction, Kika studied his profile and found her muscles tensing involuntarily. It was a physical reaction, pure and simple.
She was relieved when the clerk returned with keys to a Chevy Corsica and directions to the parking lot. As Kika expected, the passenger from L.A. was right behind her when she stepped outside.
Watch out for the men. Her father’s warning played in her memory. She walked with confidence across the pavement. It was silly to allow her father’s overprotectiveness to make her uneasy. The man whose footsteps echoed hers wasn’t interested in her at all. That was why she jumped when he called out to her. “Wait!”
When she turned, he handed her the compact umbrella that usually fit in the side of her carry-on bag. “You dropped this. You’ll probably need it. It looks like rain.” He pointed to the sky, where jagged lightning broke the summer darkness.
“Thank you. Again.” She flashed him a grateful grin.
This time there was an answering smile on his face. It made dimples appear and caused Kika’s insides to do a funky little dance.
“Do you know what a white Corsica looks like?” she asked.
“No, but I have a blue one.” He looked out across the rows of rental cars and pointed to his right. “I think they’re over there.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance as they walked toward the cars prompting Kika to say, “I hope it’s not going to storm before I reach my hotel.”
“Where are you staying?”
Kika knew better than to answer that one. “At a bed-and-breakfast. What about you?”
“I’m stuck with my mother-in-law.”
Oh, no, he’s married! “Lucky you,” she said with a forced grin. Curious, she couldn’t resist asking, “You here on business?”
He nodded. “I’m starting a new job. What about you?”
“Oh, business,” she answered. “Have you worked in Milwaukee before?”
“No, I’m from L.A.”
They had reached the rental cars. Without another word, she located the white Corsica and stuck a key in the trunk. As she tossed her overnight bag inside, he opened the car next to hers.
After slamming the trunk, she automatically glanced in his direction. He was pulling a jacket out of his suitcase. Before he closed the leather bag, however, Kika noticed he had a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold. She quickly looked away.
Married, an actor and kinky. The guy had three strikes against him. Relieved that he hadn’t responded to her flirting, she climbed into her rental car.
By the time she had started the engine and become familiar with the instrument panel, the lightning was closer. Within seconds, rain pelted the windows so that when Kika glanced at the man in the car next to hers, she saw nothing but a blur.
As she drove out of the parking lot she noticed the blue Corsica was right behind her. When she turned onto the freeway, it followed. She slowed, hoping he would pass her, but he remained directly behind her.
When the rain became so heavy that she could barely see the highway lines, Kika pulled over to the side of the road. The blue Corsica drove past and she breathed a sigh of relief.
While she waited for the rain to subside, she studied the map the clerk at the car-rental agency had given her. The road she was to take was highlighted in yellow.
It was after ten when she turned down Main Street in Tyler, but the town looked as if it were three a.m. In the warm glow of street lamps there wasn’t a soul in sight. Wendy had arranged for her to spend the night at a bed-and-breakfast called Granny Rose’s. Kika hoped Granny Rose was still awake, for it was obvious that most of Tyler was asleep.
The small, dainty woman who answered the door of the big old Victorian house was not old nor was she a granny, and she was definitely wide-awake. Her thickly lashed, luminous blue eyes gazed at Kika with a curious gleam.
“You must be Ms. Mancini,” she said, looking her over with a friendly eye. “I’m Susannah Santori. Come in.”
Kika stepped inside the beautifully decorated home. “This is lovely,” she said, taking in the Victorian interior.
“Thank you. It was my grandmother’s house. My husband, Joe, did all the renovations.” She reached for a switch that sent a flood of light illuminating a small study off the front hallway. “You’ll have to pardon the darkness but our guests usually arrive earlier in the evening.”
“I’m sorry, I hope it’s not a problem,” Kika said apologetically.
“Oh, not at all. I’m a night owl myself.” She led Kika over to a rolltop desk, where she gestured for her to take a seat. “If you would fill out the registration form, I’ll get the key to your room and you can settle in.”
Kika furnished the necessary information on the card, then handed it back to Susannah, who scanned it and said, “Mancini’s an Italian name.”
“Yes. I fool people with my blond hair. Most people expect Itali
ans to be brunette.”
“But you have dark eyes.” She tucked the registration into an index-card file. “And you have that look about you.”
“What look is that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. My husband, Joe, has it, too. You look so full of life.”
Kika smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, it is.” She stood and motioned for Kika to follow. “I’ll show you where everything is.” She gave her a brief tour of the dining and sitting rooms before leading her up the staircase. “Is this your first visit to Tyler?” she asked.
“Yes. I didn’t even know there was a Tyler, Wisconsin, until I saw one of the day-care-center videos.”
“Oh. Is that why you’re here? Because of the videos?”
“I have an appointment with a woman named Glenna McRoberts. I believe she works at the TylerTots Community Day Care?”
“She sure does. Glenna’s a great gal. Talented and very smart.” They entered a room that was cornflower-blue and white, with a large four-poster bed and a homemade quilt.
“Then you know her?”
“Umm-hmm.” Susannah set Kika’s suitcase on a luggage stand at the end of the bed. “The success of the videos has had everyone talking. It’s been fun for the kids.”
“I have an appointment with Glenna tomorrow morning at the day-care center. Is that far from here?”
“Oh, no. It’s really close. Just go two blocks down Morgan and take a left. You can’t miss it. It’s in the basement of Sarah’s church.”
Seeing Kika’s puzzled look, she added, “That’s the Tyler Fellowship. Sarah Kenton’s the minister.”
The thought of a woman minister in a town the size of Tyler appealed to Kika. “Then I’ll be able to walk?”
“Sure. If you tell me what time your appointment is, I’ll make sure you get breakfast before you go.”
“I’m supposed to be there at nine.”
“Perfect. We usually serve between seven-thirty and eight.” Susannah walked over to the nightstand beside the bed and lifted a piece of paper. “Here’s the menu choices. If you want to look at it and then slip it under the door, everything will be ready when you are.”
“Great.”
“And there’s a library down the hall on your left. It’s the only room with an open door. You can’t miss it.” She turned back the bed and fluffed the pillows. “Your secretary said you were only staying the one night, right?”
Kika nodded.
“If that changes, just let me know.” She walked over to the French doors, which opened onto a small balcony. “Oh, good, the rain has stopped.”
“Is it always this quiet?” Kika asked as she followed the innkeeper outside.
“Most of the time.”
“Quite different from the city,” Kika remarked.
“I know. It took me a while to get used to the absence of noise when I first moved back.”
“Did you grow up here?”
“Umm-hmm, but I worked for a while in Milwaukee. I had my own television show called ‘Oh, Susannah!’ I demonstrated cooking tips, gave household hints, interviewed celebrities. It was a fun program.”
“Why did you leave?”
“I fell in love.” She smiled reflectively. “Although to be perfectly honest, I had become a bit restless in Milwaukee. I guess it just took the right circumstances to show me that.”
Kika understood what she meant. There were times when restlessness had her questioning the direction of her own life. “Do you miss your television career?”
The woman pondered the question for a moment before saying, “You know, I really don’t. I enjoy small-town living, and the people you meet in the television world can be so...” She paused, searching for the right word.
“Superficial?” Kika supplied.
She chuckled. “Come to think of it, that’s a pretty good word to describe my old boss. How did you know?”
“Because I work in television. I have a casting agency for TV and film.”
Suzannah’s delicate jaw fell. “It’s a small world, isn’t it? I wouldn’t expect to find a casting agent visiting Tyler. Is that why you’re here to see Glenna? Because of your work?”
“It’s for professional reasons, yes,” Kika answered, trying not to say too much about her visit until after she had talked to the producer of the videos. She was grateful Susannah Santori didn’t press her for information.
“This balcony’s a great spot to relax, but be careful,” the innkeeper warned, running her fingers across the back of a lawn chair. “Everything’s still wet from the storm that passed through.”
Kika nodded, then followed Susannah back inside. She expected the former television star to ask her more about her work, but she didn’t. She just said, “If there’s anything at all you need, just pick up the phone and press zero. I’ll be right downstairs.”
It was an exhausted Kika who slid between the cool cotton sheets shortly thereafter. Every night before she fell asleep she mentally prepared for the next day. As she lay in the strange bedroom she tried to think about the little redheaded girl in the video, but all she could see was a tall, dark, handsome man, whose cheeks dimpled when he smiled and who carried handcuffs and a blindfold in his suitcase.
* * *
“YIPPEE. DAD’S HERE!”
Nick awoke to the sound of feet trampling across the wooden floor, and before he could even sit up, two bodies landed on his.
“Grandma wouldn’t let us wait up for you last night,” Patrick said, straddling Nick’s midsection.
“That’s cuz she wanted to watch Letterman and she was worried we’d hear some swear words,” Zachary told him, sitting cross-legged so that his toes were in Nick’s face.
Nick propped a couple of pillows behind his neck and shifted Patrick so that he could get a better perspective. “I missed you guys.”
“We missed you, too, Dad,” they said in unison, practically smothering him with hugs and kisses.
“Grandma’s strict,” Zachary announced in a disapproving tone.
“She’s just doing what she thinks is best.” Nick defended his mother-in-law, although personally he agreed with the boys. From his phone conversations with Annabelle he knew that she was firm with her grandchildren.
“Yeah, she won’t let us play Nintendo cuz she thinks it’s going to wreck her TV,” Zachary complained.
“And we have to do Legos on the floor because she says they’ll scratch her table,” Patrick added.
Nick raised a finger to his lips and quieted them. “We’re going to have our own house soon and then you can go back to doing things the way you’ve always done them. But while you’re at Grandma’s, you need to respect her rules.”
“Aww, Dad,” they groaned in chorus.
“Now tell me all the good stuff that’s happened while I’ve been gone.”
They were in the middle of explanations when Annabelle’s loud voice echoed from the hallway. “Melody would like to come in. Is it safe?”
Safe? Nick wondered what his mother-in-law thought could be dangerous about his daughter coming into his bedroom. Did she think he slept in the nude?
“It’s fine, Annabelle. The boys and I are just catching up.”
Annabelle poked her head around the door frame gingerly, before entering. When she saw that the three of them were presentable, she pulled Melody into the room.
“Go see your daddy,” she told her granddaughter in a soft voice Nick had never heard her use before.
Melody’s lower lip was pushed out in an expression Nick remembered well. It had been nearly a month since he had seen his daughter, yet very little had changed, except her red curls drooped a little closer to her shoulders.
“Go on, dear,” Annabelle urged, but Melody hung back, her pointer finger pushed against her tiny mouth. “Go on, Melody, give your daddy a hug,” Annabelle repeated more forcefully, but Melody refused to move.
“I don’t think she likes Grandma,” Zach
ary said in a whisper only his father could hear.
Nick could only hope that wasn’t true. He had come to Tyler so that Annabelle could be a positive influence on his daughter. He knew from longtime experience that his mother-in-law could be intimidating. In the past few weeks had she been gruff with his children?
“Hello, Melody,” he said tenderly, giving his daughter a smile.
She didn’t respond, only continued to suck on her finger and pout. Finally, Annabelle picked her up and started to carry her over to the bed. Melody began to kick and holler.
“She’s being ornery again,” Patrick announced. Her grandmother paid no attention.
Nick did. “It’s all right, Annabelle. I’m sure Melody will come get her hug when she’s ready.”
Reluctantly, Annabelle set the squirming toddler down. Melody ran back to the door and hid her face on her chubby little arm.
Nick wanted to rush over and scoop her up in his arms and hug her tightly, but he was afraid she’d run away from him, and that was something he couldn’t bear. Ever since the day he had brought her home without her mother, it was as if she could sense his pain. He had done everything he could not to see Beth in Melody’s angelic little face, yet not once when he looked at her was he not reminded of his wife.
He knew it was ridiculous to think that a twenty-two-month-old child could sense what a troubled heart her father had. He didn’t want Beth to be between them. It wasn’t his daughter’s fault that his wife had died. If blame was to be placed, it would be on his own shoulders. He was the one who had insisted they have a third child. Melody hadn’t asked to be born. Yet it was as if his daughter knew her mother was gone because she was here.
It was something he hadn’t talked about with Annabelle. How could he? It was too horrible to say aloud. He had hoped that if he ignored the feelings of guilt and the what-might-have-beens, the strain in his relationship with his daughter would disappear.
It hadn’t, and now he had come to Tyler, Beth’s hometown, to be with Beth’s mother and her sister in hopes they would help right the wrong he was doing his daughter. For he had to be doing something wrong with her. Why else wouldn’t she talk? And why didn’t she wrap her arms around him and kiss and hug him like the boys did?