THE TROPHY WIFE

by Ginna Gray

  "You mean known hit men?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Well … yes."

  "You don't have to sugarcoat things for me, Detective. And yes, of course I'll look at the photos. I'll be glad to help in any way that I can to prevent him from harming someone else."

  When she hung up the telephone, Elizabeth went upstairs to pack casual clothes for Max and his mother to take to the farm. She and her aunt, and Mimi as well, since she was such a frequent visitor, kept a country wardrobe at the farm and city attire at the Houston home, along with duplicates of makeup and toiletries. That way packing was never necessary when they moved from one home to the other.

  The day before, while Max had been at his office, she and Mimi had gone shopping to build a wardrobe of country attire for him that he could leave at Mimosa Landing. At the same time Gladys had gone to Iona's apartment and gathered up most of her winter clothes.

  Elizabeth had packed everything that Max would need and was in Iona's bedroom sorting through her clothes when Mimi poked her head in the door.

  "Hi. Gladys said I'd find you here." Mimi plopped down on the edge of Iona's bed and bounced a few times, idly looking around at the blue-and-white decor. "I always did like this room."

  "Mmm. Me, too." Elizabeth returned from the closet with an armload of long skirts and sweaters. "For Iona to wear pants over that cast, we have to slit them up the side, and there are only a couple of pairs that she's willing to sacrifice. She'll be able to wear these easier."

  "You're sure packing a lot," Mimi noted. Something in her friend's tone drew her attention, and Elizabeth looked up and saw that Mimi's usual ebullience was sorely missing. Her shoulders were slumped and her expression morose. "I'm only packing so much because Iona has nothing at the farm. Max has only a few things that he left there last week. I don't expect we'll be gone more than a week. Maybe not even that long."

  "I know." Mimi sighed. "I just hate it when you're gone."

  "Well, then, come with us."

  "I don't know. I'm not sure if Max would appreciate me horning in on family time."

  Before Elizabeth could reply Max called out, "Elizabeth? Where are you?"

  She gave Mimi an apologetic look and answered, "In here. In your mother's room."

  "Hey, here you are. Hi, Mimi." He walked into the bedroom and, as casually as if he'd been doing so for years, planted a sound kiss on Elizabeth's lips. "What're you doing?"

  "Gladys picked up your mother's winter clothes from the retirement home and I'm packing the items that are appropriate for the farm. Your casual clothes are already packed and in the trunk of my car."

  "What casual clothes? I took what little I had in the way of casual duds last time."

  "Well, I purchased more for you. Shoes, socks and underwear, too. We'll leave all of it at the farm."

  Max looked dumbfounded. "You bought clothes for me? How did you know sizes?"

  "Yes, I purchased clothes for you. That's one of the things that wives do, Max. So get used to it. As for sizes, I got those from what you have in our closet."

  "You see, stud. Wives are good for more than sex."

  "Mimi!" Elizabeth groaned. To hide her red face she bent over the open suitcase and added the last few items.

  "Yeah," he replied slowly. "I'm beginning to realize that."

  Elizabeth closed the suitcase and snapped the locks closed. "There. Unless you want to change first, we're ready to go."

  "Just give me ten minutes," Max said, heading for the door. He paused and looked over his shoulder at Mimi. "Are you coming with us?"

  "I don't know. Are you asking me to come along?"

  Max shrugged. "I guess I am. You're family, aren't you? It's up to you, but if you're going, shake a leg."

  He disappeared through the door and Mimi stared thoughtfully after him. She slanted Elizabeth a look of surprise. "You know, sugar, I'll be damned if I'm not beginning to really like that man of yours."

  Sunday evening Elizabeth hesitated outside the closed door of the study at Mimosa Landing. She could do this, she told herself. She had to do this. She raised her hand to knock, hesitated, then let it fall to her side again. Putting her ear to the solid panel of walnut she strained to hear, but the door was too thick. Maybe she should wait. The news would keep. Elizabeth shook her head. No. That was the coward's way out.

  Before she could change her mind, she tapped on the door and opened it far enough to poke her head inside. Max looked up from the papers he had spread out on the desk. "Hi. What's up?" he asked.

  "I, uh … I … there are a couple of things I need to discuss with you. When you have the time, of course." She made a weak gesture toward the papers on the desk. "I see you're busy now. I can come back later." She started to close the door, but Max stopped her.

  "No, don't go. I'm never too busy to talk to you. Come on in. Have a seat," he said when she stepped into the room.

  "I'd … I'd rather stand, thank you."

  "Sounds ominous," he joked, stacking the papers together. Elizabeth crossed the room and stood in front of the desk, her hands clasped in front of her to keep them from trembling.

  "I have something to tell you. Actually, I have a couple of things to discuss with you."

  "So shoot," he said, still rifling through the papers.

  "I'm pregnant."

  "Uh-huh" came his distracted reply. Then his head snapped up. "What?"

  "I said—"

  "I know what you said. I mean … I thought … that is … you said you couldn't have children."

  "I said that the doctors said I'd probably never have children. It looks like they were wrong."

  Max stared at her for so long that she began to fidget. "How do you feel about this?" he asked finally, his vivid blue eyes intent on her face.

  "How do I feel? I'm deliriously happy. I'm thrilled. I'm walking on air," she said emphatically, unconsciously splaying one hand over her flat abdomen. "The question is, how do you feel about becoming a father?"

  Max got up and came around the desk. He sat back on the front edge, captured her hands and pulled her to stand between his spread legs. Automatically, she rested her palms against his chest. "How do I feel? Right now, a bit stunned. Still taking it in. But if you're happy, I'm happy."

  "Are you sure? That's a tepid reaction."

  "I'm positive. If I seem uncertain it's just because you caught me off guard. I've never really given much thought to being a father, or what kind I would be if it happened."

  Max tipped his head to one side. "Are you positive you're pregnant? We've been married only … what?" He twisted around and tried to see the desk calendar.

  "Three weeks today," Elizabeth finished for him. "And yes, I'm sure. These days home-pregnancy kits are very accurate. Plus, I took the test three times. All three times it read Pregnant.

  "At first I thought I was late because of all the things that have happened in the past month, but apparently I was wrong."

  "I guess all you needed was the right husband."

  "I guess," Elizabeth agreed, turning pink. "According to my calculations, I conceived either in the shower in New York, or somewhere about ten thousand feet over Tennessee."

  A slow, self-satisfied grin curved Max's mouth. "You don't say."

  She gave his shoulder a cuff. "Don't look so smug. I'm sure this isn't the first baby conceived in an airplane."

  "It is for me. What the—"

  "Meow," came Bar Code's plaintive cry.

  They both looked down at the kitten rubbing against Elizabeth's legs. She had failed to shut the study door all the way, and Bar Code had squeezed through the opening to be with Elizabeth. The kitten had been her constant shadow ever since she had rescued her. At night, if Max didn't pick her up and put her out of their bedroom the kitten would happily sleep on their bed.

  "Damn cat," Max grumbled, but it was a half-hearted complaint, and when he looked back at Elizabeth his expression was tolerant. "So … what was the other thing you wanted to ask?"

&nbs
p; "Oh. That. It's really more of a favor."

  "Whatever it is, the answer is yes. How could I refuse my pregnant wife?"

  "All the same, you really should wait until you hear what the favor is before you say yes."

  "That bad, is it? Okay. Shoot."

  "Well … I was wondering if you would object to me asking your mother to come live with us."

  Dumbfounded, Max stared at her with his mouth partially open.

  "Well?" Elizabeth prodded.

  "Are you serious? That's what you call me doing you a favor? You want my mother—your mother-in-law—to move in with us? On a permanent basis?"

  "Yes. Unless you object. We have plenty of room, both here and in the Houston house."

  "No, I don't have any objections," Max said, still dazed by the unexpected suggestion. "The only reason I haven't had her living with me is because I'm gone so much. I thought she'd be lonely all by herself in my condo. And I worried about her getting sick or something happening to her if she was on her own."

  "Of course. You were right about that, but your situation has changed now. I'm sure the retirement complex where Iona lives is nice and there are other people her age around, but I think she would be happier with family, don't you?"

  Max stared at Elizabeth again. He looked deep into her guileless blue-green eyes and felt something move and tighten in his chest. From the beginning he'd sensed that she was a nice person, but he hadn't realized just how big her heart truly was. Already she thought of his mother as family and opened her arms wide to her.

  "There's no question that she'd be happier here. I'm just amazed that you want to do this. I always thought that wives and their mothers-in-law didn't get along."

  "What nonsense. Your mother is a sweetheart. I'm very fond of her. Anyway, I grew up in a multigenerational home. It seems perfectly normal to me to keep your loved ones with you.

  "Ever since Great-great-great grampa Asa built this place there have been three or four generations of family living here at any one time. That's why he built such a big house. Besides, your mother and Aunt Talitha are good for each other."

  "Are you serious? Are we talking about the same two old ladies? The ones who were arguing about a Scrabble word not half an hour ago? I thought they were going to come to blows."

  Elizabeth laughed. "That was nothing. Don't you realize that they both get a kick out of their little spats?"

  "No kidding? You could've fooled me." Max cocked one eyebrow in a skeptical look.

  "They spend every waking moment together. Your mother is teaching Aunt Talitha how to make intricately pieced quilts and Aunt Talitha is teaching her to knit and needlepoint. They enjoy each other's company immensely.

  "Another reason I'd like to have Iona here is so that I can look after her properly. She's not young, you know."

  "I know." There had been few times in Max's experience that he had felt overwhelmed with emotions, but this was one. He was touched to his core by Elizabeth's generous spirit, that she thought of his mother as family and wanted her with them. And that she had every intention of looking after her as the years rolled by, just as she did her great-aunt.

  He wanted to tell her or show her in some way how grateful he was, but he'd never been good at expressing his feelings, and he couldn't seem to find the words now. "Okay. If that's what you want, go for it," he said, and almost winced at his own abruptness and the flicker of disappointment in Elizabeth's eyes.

  "Do you mind if I tell them about the baby?"

  Max shrugged. "If that's what you want."

  She pulled back out of his arms. "Good. I'll go do that right now. Do you want to come along?"

  "Sure. Why not."

  They found the two old ladies and Mimi in the den still playing Scrabble.

  "When you finish that game, Max and I want to talk to all of you," Elizabeth said.

  "Well, you're in luck," Iona replied, and plunked her last three tiles down on the board. "Onus," she crowed. "I win."

  "Uh. You got lucky on that last draw, is the only reason," Talitha grumbled.

  Mimi started gathering up the tiles and racks to put the game away. "So, what did you want to talk to us about, sugar?"

  Max stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, one shoulder braced against the frame. Elizabeth pulled up a hassock in front of Iona's chair and took both of her hands.

  "Iona, Max and I have talked it over, and we'd love to have you come live with us."

  "What?" Looking flustered, Iona blinked her eyes several times, pulled one hand free of Elizabeth's grasp and placed it over her fluttering heart. "Oh, my. I wasn't expecting anything like this. That's so sweet of you, dear girl, but I can't impose like that."

  "It's not an imposition, Iona. Truly, it's not. I love having you with us." Elizabeth slanted a quick glance at her great aunt and added, "I'm sure Aunt Talitha feels the same."

  "Well, of course I do," the other old lady said, thumping her cane for emphasis. "I don't know why you're dragging your feet, Iona, unless it's just to be ornery."

  "Ornery. I'm not the one who's ornery. Talitha Stanton, you know good and well—"

  "Okay, okay. That's enough bickering." Elizabeth looked at her mother-in-law. "So? What do you think. Could you stand to live here and, at times, in Houston with us?"

  "Well, of course, I love it here, and at your other house, too, but I don't want to be a bother."

  "You won't be, Iona."

  "Are you sure—"

  "Oh, for Pete's sake, woman, say yes and let's get on with things," Talitha commanded. "My favorite TV program is about to come on."

  "Don't worry, Iona, you won't be a bother," Elizabeth assured her. "Actually, I expect you and Aunt Talitha will be a big help to me once the baby arrives."

  For the space of two heartbeats the only sound in the room was the ponderous tick-tick of the grandfather clock. Then the other three women erupted at once.

  "A baby!" Iona gasped.

  "Oh, sugar, are you telling us you're pregnant?" Mimi looked at Max and grinned. "Way to go, stud!"

  He bowed from the waist. "My pleasure."

  "Huh. I bet," Mimi drawled.

  "Oh, my stars. A baby. We're going to have a baby in the house again," Aunt Talitha said, then buried her face in her bony hands and burst into tears.

  "Oh, don't cry, Auntie," Elizabeth crooned, moving over to give her aunt a hug.

  "These are happy tears, child. I was beginning to think I would die without seeing the next generation of Stantons. And now…" She reached across the Scrabble table and squeezed Iona's hand. "Oh, Iona, we're going to have a baby to love and spoil. Isn't it wonderful?"

  "Yes, yes indeed."

  "That's right," Mimi said. "And Auntie Mimi is going to get in on that spoiling, too. I know the perfect baby gift. Just the other day I was in Neiman Marcus and I saw this one-of-a-kind, teeny-weeny little sable coat. It had a matching hat and muff, too."

  "Mimi! Don't you dare."

  "What? A girl is never too young for furs or diamonds."

  "What if the baby is a boy?"

  "Oh." She looked surprised, as though the thought had not occurred to her. "Well, then I'll have an itty-bitty tux made for him. Oh! And a pair of Tony Lama boots. And when he's a little older, a little battery-operated pickup truck."

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

  "Hey, it's not every day I get to be an aunt."

  "Oh, Talitha, I just remembered," Iona said. "I have a crochet pattern for a darling baby blanket. I'm going to start it tomorrow."

  "Good idea. And I'm going to knit some caps and booties. Oh, and I'll have to dig out the Stanton christening gown. It's in a trunk in the attic, I think."

  Elizabeth watched the old ladies as they chattered away, her heart so filled with love that her chest ached and her eyes filled with tears.

  She felt Mimi's hand on her shoulder. Her friend bent and whispered in her ear, "You've made them very happy tonight, sugar. Me, too, for tha
t matter. Congratulations, little mama."

  Elizabeth put her hand over Mimi's and looked up at her through the tears banked against her lower eyelids. "Thanks."

  Her gaze sought Max's, and he gave her one of his rare, soft smiles and made a thumbs-up sign.

  That night when they went to bed, Max made slow, sweet love to Elizabeth, his every movement tender and controlled. Elizabeth knew that he was exercising such extraordinary restraint because of the baby, and though there was no need, his consideration made her already full heart overflow with emotion.

  * * *

  Sixteen

  « ^ »

  A few minutes after five the next morning Elizabeth experienced her first bout of morning sickness. She shot straight up in the bed, her stomach gave a lurch and she bolted for the bathroom.

  Max came running right behind her. "What's the matter? Are you ill?"

  She moaned, unable to answer, then bent over the bowl of the commode and retched, over and over.

  "Damn." Max gathered her hair up and held it back with one hand and slipped the other arm around her waist to support her. "You must've picked up a virus. Do you have a fever? Or maybe it was something you ate."

  Elizabeth threw up again and gagged and choked. Finally, wiping her mouth with some toilet tissue, she carefully straightened, leery of her uncertain stomach. She slanted him a wry look. "I don't have a virus, Max. This is morning sickness. It comes with pregnancy."

  He looked appalled. "Are you serious? There has to be something a doctor can give you. Should I take you to the ER?"

  "No. Absolutely not. This will pass."

  He looked at the porcelain French clock on the counter. "When? Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? What?"

  As awful as she felt, Elizabeth could not help but chuckle. "Oh, a bit longer than that. Three to four months is normal, I think."

  "Months? You're going be like this for months?"

  She bent over the sink and splashed cold water over her face and swished out her mouth. "It's different with every pregnancy, they tell me. Some women don't have any sickness, but from what I've heard and read, most do."