Long Time Coming (9 page)

The girl sitting behind him squirmed closer and possessively locked her arms around his torso. He gave Marnie a phony helpless shrug. "As you can see, I'm kinda tied up right now. Why don't you relax and have a good time? Join the party. You're among friends.

Everybody," he said loudly, "this is Marnie. Marnie, this is—" He groped his memory for names. "These are some pilots I flew with today."

"Kincaid here said he had to blow off some steam or die," one of them informed Marnie.

He was sitting at the table, leering up at her drunkenly. "He said getting off on flying a jet is almost as good as getting off with a woman."

"You Air Force fly-boys don't know when to keep your mouths shut, do you?" Law asked, scowling darkly.

The other pilot wasn't listening. Before she realized what was about to happen, he encircled her waist with his strong arm and pulled her onto his lap.

"You promised us lots of women would be here, Kincaid, but failed to say they'd be as classy as this one."

He flattened his hand low on Marnie's stomach and pulled her back against him while he nuzzled her neck. "I like 'em small like this. The smaller the better. Usually when they're this small on the outside, they're small on the inside."

Law shot out of his chair, dumping the redhead behind him onto the floor. He fixed a murderously icy stare on the pilot and said in a voice just as frosty, "The party's over."

Chapter 10

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T
he laughter died. So did the party atmosphere. Even Ray Charles was silenced in mid-chorus, though how someone found the sound system switch that quickly, Marnie never knew.

Law's eyes served as blades that cut through the arms binding her. As soon as the flyer released her, she stood up and moved away.

Gradually the tension in the kitchen spilled onto the deck beyond and spread like a gloomy tide. All merriment ceased. The party-makers began to funnel through the gate toward their cars.

"Law?" The redhead had picked herself up from the floor and redraped herself over his right side.

Impatiently he shook her off. "The party's over for you too, sweetheart."

Huffily she flounced away. Before she was even through the door, however, she had latched onto the inebriated pilot who had unwittingly insulted his host.

"How the hell was I s'pposed to know she was somebody special to 'im, huh?" he muttered as his more sober friends hastily ushered him out. None seemed inclined to wave a red flag at Law's temper.

He shot Marnie a hard glance, then went out onto the deck himself. She gazed around the kitchen. It didn't resemble the spotless room she had seen the last time she'd been there. There wasn't a clear surface in it now. It was littered with used paper plates and napkins, empty bottles and cans. An empty beer can had sunk to the gravel bottom of the fish tank.

Hearing a scratching sound, Marnie moved to a door and opened it. Venus leapt out of a utility room. She crouched and eyed Marnie suspiciously then, realizing that Marnie was her liberator, she crept forward and sniffed her hand.

"Hey girl." Marnie patted the dog's head. Within seconds they were friends. Why shouldn't they be comrades, Marnie asked herself wryly. They had their jealousy of Law in common. Every time Marnie thought about the luscious redhead and the smug way Law had smiled whenever she wiggled against him, Marnie wanted to scream.

He reentered the kitchen and slid the glass door closed behind him. "Everybody's out.

Happy now?"

"It wasn't my intention to break up your party. If you could have pried yourself away from the redhead long enough for me to say what I have to say it could have gone on for the rest of the night for all I care."

"Too late now. You snuffed it out and almost caused a brawl."

"That drunken foul-mouth was responsible, not me. You should have ignored him."

He propped his hands on his hips and faced her belligerently. "Excuse me. I thought I was defending your honor. Next time some jerk makes a dirty remark about you, I'll keep my mouth shut and let you enjoy it."

She lowered her forehead into her hand and massaged her temples. Under any circumstances this wouldn't have been an easy meeting. But circumstances couldn't be worse or less conducive to a calm discussion of a volatile subject.

Law placed a bowl of jalapeno dip on the floor for Venus to lap up. She attacked it with gusto. When he straightened up, he fixed Marnie with a hostile glare. "Well, let's have it.

What was so all-fired important that you had to see me tonight?"

Nervously she glanced around the kitchen. "Would you like me to help you clean this up?"

"That's what you ruined my party to ask?"

"No," she retorted sharply. "Stop making jokes."

"Then stop stalling. The maid will be well paid to clean up the mess tomorrow. So what's on your mind?"

"The letters."

He gave a quick little motion of his head. "What about them?"

"May I see them?"

"What's the matter? Don't you believe me? Do you think I made them up?"

"May I see them please?" she asked testily.

"What for?"

"Because I think I know who sent them."

"What the hell's all the hollering about? Where'd everybody go?"

At the sound of the intrusive voice, Marnie spun around. A couple was standing in the connecting doorway, wearing puzzled expressions … and very little else.

Suzette had a towel pressed against her chest, under which she had on nothing but a pair of bikini trunks. The mystery of the missing half of the suit had been solved at least.

The man had a towel wrapped around his waist.

Marnie turned her back on them and knelt down beside Venus. She took away the bowl of dip and replaced it with a slice of rare roast beef from a deli tray of sandwich meats.

"What's going on, Law?" the man asked. "We just went into one of the bedrooms for a while and—"

"It's okay. The party died a sudden death. Everybody left."

"Where's Mary Jo?"

"She went with one of those F-16 jockeys."

"What? And you let her go?"

"Look, I'm not a marriage counselor, okay?" Law said with diminishing patience. "Since you trucked into the bedroom with Suzy Q, I guess Mary Jo felt free to leave with another man. Now, beat it, will ya? I've got problems of my own."

The couple murmured to each other about how some people could be so rude as they searched for their clothes out on the deck.

Law, ignoring them, raked a hand through his hair. "I'm hungry. Want some cereal?"

Marnie shook her head. He passed up the leftover party food in favor of a bowl of Cheerios and milk. Since the table was so littered, he stood up to eat, bracing his hips against the countertop.

"Who sent me the letters?" he asked around a huge mouthful.

"I believe it was my mother."

He stopped chewing instantly, swallowed the bite, and gaped at her. "Your mother?"

She explained to him about the stationery she had discovered in the nightstand drawer.

"She doesn't have any relatives she would be writing to. Besides, since her stroke, handwriting has been very difficult for her." She paused, then spread her hands. "If I could see the letters, I might be able to determine whether or not she wrote them."

He set down the bowl of cereal and crossed to a built-in desk. The letters were in the lap drawer. There were six in all, bound together by a rubber band. He handed the packet to Marnie. She rolled the rubber band to her wrist and inspected the script on all the envelopes, then scanned the contents of two of them.

"Well?" he asked, having resumed scooping cereal into his mouth.

"It doesn't look like her usual handwriting, but it looks like her handwriting since the stroke. And the stationery is identical to what I found. I'm sure they came from her. The phraseology is hers."

Depleted of energy Marnie lowered herself into one of the chairs at the table. After reading through all the letters, she looked up at him. He was guzzling orange juice straight from the carafe in the refrigerator.

"I don't know what to say, Law." She had never felt so embarrassed in her life. "I can't believe that my mother would do something this unscrupulous."

He plopped down across the table from her. "I thought you said she didn't know that I was David's father."

"She didn't."

"Obviously she did."

"Obviously," she echoed despondently. "She must have known it for a long time. Maybe she suspected that it was you all along, then when David grew up to look so much like you… Your face has been in the news so much since the shuttle flight…"

The situation was so mortifying, she found it near impossible to look him in the face. But she garnered her courage and did. "I'm sorry, Law," she said, her voice husky with emotion.

He leaned back in his chair and massaged Venus behind the ears. Her chin was propped forlornly on his thigh, as though sensing that the topic of conversation was dismal. She gazed at Marnie with sad brown eyes.

"It's not your fault, Marnie," Law told her. "I'm certainly not blaming you."

"I'll confront her about it immediately."

"Don't. She's sick. How can she harm me? She's not a blackmailer by trade. It comes as a relief just to know that I'm not being hounded by a pro."

"I'm relieved that there's no real danger to David."

He thoughtfully continued to play with Venus's ears. "You know, in a bizarre way she probably wanted to be found out. Otherwise she wouldn't have put your address on the envelopes."

"But why would she have done it to begin with?" Marnie asked rhetorically. "She became cynical after Sharon and Dad died. Her disposition isn't what you could describe as rosy. But she's never been spiteful."

"I'm sure she thinks it's time I took my punishment."

"The accountability we were talking about earlier," Marnie mused out loud.

"Right." They were both quiet and reflective for several moments. Finally Law said,

"It's the damnedest thing, Marnie, but I'm glad she did it."

"Why?"

"Because of David."

Her mouth went dry "What about him?"

"I hate to think I could have lived the rest of my life without knowing him."

He studied her gravely and she had a strong premonition that she wasn't going to like what was coming next. She was right.

"I think I owe it to him, and to myself, too, for David and me to spend some time together."

She moistened her lips. "By time you mean—"

"I mean that we should see each other on a regular basis, as frequently as possible. Get to know each other. Spend quality time together. Maybe he could even stay here occasionally."

Her worst nightmare was becoming reality. It was unfolding in this wrecked kitchen, amid the debris and spoiling food. From the instant Law Kincaid had walked back into her life, she had feared that it might eventually come down to this moment.

"'Quality time'?" she mimicked sweetly. "You must have caught the Phil Donahue Show one day and picked up that catchy little phrase, because I'm certain you have no idea what quality time between a parent and child is all about."

"Now, just a—"

"What would be your idea of quality time, Colonel?" she asked, coming out of her chair.

"An orgy? Sharing Suzette or one of the other groupies that flock around you? A wild party every night, one where David could invite his friends too?"

"I know that what happened here tonight looks bad, Marnie, but—"

"You're damn right it does!"

"Okay so I had a party," he shouted back. "And according to your rigid morals, it got a little out of hand."

"Morals is another word you don't know the meaning of. And I'd classify smoking dope, drunkenness, topless girls, and flagrant marital infidelity as more than a 'little out of hand'."

"Smoking dope? Who was smoking dope?"

"Some ancient hippie with white hair."

"I don't even know an ancient hippie with white hair."

"Then he must have been invited by someone else or just wandered in. All I know is, he wasn't a figment of my imagination."

"I don't know anything about any dope."

"All right, forget that. The rest of it is bad enough. I don't want David to be around neanderthals who make disgusting references to women the way your friend—"

"That pilot is not a friend. I didn't even meet him until this afternoon, for crissake. We played chase."

"In test planes?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Aerobatics? Dangerous stuff, right?"

He shifted uneasily "I'm a pilot. I fly."

"You take chances, Law," she cried. The summer I met you, your challenge was to master a surfboard. You took so many risks on that damned thing, I couldn't bear to watch. And you're still taking risks, every time you stage dog-fights in a jet bomber, and on the freeway every time you drive. You're little more than a well-trained daredevil."

"Damn you!" He came out of his chair so fast, Venus scuttled out of the way and cowered against the wall. "I'm not only a pilot, but a scientist."

"You still have no sense of your own mortality. You cross every threshold of danger that presents itself and go looking for the next one."

"What has any of this got to do with my wanting to spend time with my son?"

"I don't want David to fall in love with you and then be heartbroken when you fly off in a jet to play one-upmanship with your buddies and don't come back. I don't want him to lose you like—"

"Like what?"

She drew in a shuddering breath and hastily amended what she'd been about to blurt out.
Like I did
. "David is a sensitive young man who has a promising future. Fatherhood is just your newest challenge."

"You're wrong," he said stiffly.

"You might have a good time with him until the novelty wears off, but you'd soon be looking for a new toy and a new playmate. And where would that leave David?"

She aimed a finger at the center of his chest. "And if you think I'd let my son stay under the roof of this house after all that I saw going on here tonight, you've got another think coming, Colonel Kincaid. You don't even know how to feed your dog properly much less a growing boy. And that brute killed one of your prettiest fish!"

She almost made it to the glass door before he caught up with her. Catching both her upper arms, he drew her close against him. "Who did you love and lose, Marnie?"

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"Who did you love and lose?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. Somebody broke your heart. Some man. Isn't that why you're so afraid to go with your feelings? Did some lost love make you shy of all other human relationships?"

Afraid that he might read the truth in her eyes, she wrenched her arms free and backed away from him. "What would you know about human relationships?"

"Admittedly not much," he said. "But I intend to learn. Soon. And with someone you keep referring to as 'your son,' but who, in fact, is mine."

With that statement the battle lines were drawn. His words struck terror in Marnie's heart, but she didn't let him see that. With her head held high, she left him standing in the rubble of his kitchen.