Maybe Baby (20 page)

Simon eyed her for a moment, then slowly lowered his gun. It wasn’t put away, but it was at least pointed at the floor, a decided improvement.

“I’ve got a reasonable solution for you,” he said. “You call whoever has the bird and tell them to bring it here.”

“I can’t,” Babs said, trying not to look as though she was making it up as she went along, although that was exactly what she was doing. “The bird’s in a secure location, out of the city.”

“Pfft, what’d you do?” Vivian asked. “Send it upstate with Dana?”

Babs stiffened. “Perhaps you should knock Vivian out, too. You and I can settle this just between us.”

“Hell, no,” Vivian said, shooting forward. “I’m cooperating. Totally.” She looked at Simon. “Wiley Wines. In the Finger Lakes. I’d start there.”

“Do you really think I would be so stupid as to give the bird to my daughter?” Babs said.

Vivian sighed. “Look, you said she was here, and the bird’s out of the city. Doesn’t take a genius to put it together.”

“And you’re certainly no genius.”

“Damn straight, sister.” Vivian blinked. “Wait—”

“Vivian,” Simon said, his eyes on Babs, “do you have a car, luv?”

“You bet. I’ll get the keys,” Vivian said, getting up and grabbing her purse from off the coffee table.

“Wait,” Babs said, shooting up off the couch. “I told you, the bird isn’t there.”

“Maybe,” Simon said, “maybe not. But your daughter is.”

Babs felt her heart go cold. “What are you saying?”

“I think you know what I’m saying, pet,” Simon said, a cold smile at the edges of his eyes. “Either the bird is there, and I get it, or your daughter is there, and I get her; and then you’ll make sure I get the bird. Won’t you?”

Babs gripped her purse. “I’ll kill you before I let you touch her.”

Simon looked her up and down, and gave a condescending laugh. Babs felt her fury erupt, but she knew it was impotent. The man was twice her weight, half her age, and had a gun.

Vivian huffed. “Are we going or not?”

Simon motioned toward the front door with the gun. “Ladies first.”

***

It was daylight when Nick opened his eyes, the sun bouncing through the yellow curtains to give a glow to the log ceiling overhead. For a moment, he was disoriented, trying to sort out which of the events swimming in his head were dream and which were reality.

Dana mumbled something about apples in her sleep, and Nick lifted his head to see her adjust her head on the pillow before falling silent again. He pushed himself up off the creaky papasan as quietly as he could, walked over to the bed, and watched her sleep.

She was so damn beautiful. So beautiful, so funny, so crazy, such a pain in the ass. He wondered what she was dreaming about, what was going on in that insane head of hers, and whether he was there with her. He hoped so.

I love this woman.
He sighed and ran his hand over his hair.
Assume crash positions.

He turned and headed into the bathroom. He pulled out the extra toothbrush Dana kept in the medicine cabinet and was rinsing before it struck him that something wasn’t right. He dropped the toothbrush in the sink and ran out into the bedroom.

The cage, and the bird with it, was gone. He grunted a curse and pushed through the door into the living room.

The sofa bed was put back together, linens folded neatly in one corner. No sign of Finn.

“Damnit,” Nick muttered. “Shit.”

There was a noise to his left, and he wheeled toward the dining area. The cage was sitting on the table. Inside, the bird pecked away at his food. The hotel towel was gone, replaced by fresh newspaper. Nick sighed as his heart rate slowed down. He turned, wandered through the living room, and pushed his way out to the front porch, where Finn sat with a cigarette, watching the scenery.

“Nice out here,” he said.

“Yeah,” Nick replied.

“You okay, Hoss? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.”

Finn cocked his head to one side as he watched Nick. “You thought I stole it, didn’t you?”

“Now why would I think that?” Nick asked flatly.

Finn smirked up at him. “Look, man, I just figured the bird could use some food and water.”

“Of course.”

“Not my fault you two sleep like the dead.”

“‘Course not.” Nick looked out in the direction Finn was staring and saw the industrial building of the winery, fronted by the rustic gift shop and tasting bar.

“That’s her place?” Finn asked.

“Yeah,” Nick said.

Finn shrugged. “It’s nice.”

Nick pulled the screen door open.

“I’m gonna make some breakfast, so if you’re hungry—”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Finn’s head turn toward him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Finn said, putting his cigarette out on the sole of his boot. “I just realized we had an entire conversation in which you didn’t call me Sparky or tell me to mind my own fucking business.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Nick stepped into the doorway of the house. “I need coffee.”

***

Dana gave her hair one last scrub with the towel and wiped out a circle on the steamy bathroom mirror so she could make eye contact with herself. She was smiling.

“Stop that,” she said to herself. “You look like a teenage girl who just got a note in study hall.”

Still, the reflected self grinned back at her.

Good God, she thought. I’m just pathetic.

She stepped out into her bedroom. Still empty. She could hear Nick and Finn talking in the living room, accented by the occasional screech of the chicken. Everyone seemed to be getting along, and if her nose wasn’t deceiving her, there was some bacon frying going on.

A perfect morning. Something about the sunshine and the sleep and the fact that she’d be getting something to eat in a minute made her feel… she wasn’t sure. Happy? Fresh?

Hopeful. That was it.
Hopeful.
Things had seemed so dire the night before when in reality, they weren’t so bad. She’d sort things out with Babs after they got the bird and the winery out of the way. And things with Nick were good, friendly and easy, just like old times.

Except he’d never planned a move to California in old times. Dana craned her neck from side to side. Well, they’d jump off that bridge when they came to it. Maybe they could do long-distance, or if the winery crashed and burned she could start fresh with him…

She put her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating wildly, the typical response to the wave of excitement and mind-numbing fear running through her at the thought of really starting over with Nick.

Be Scarlett, she thought. Think about it tomorrow.

She took a few deep breaths to slow her heart rate, dropped the towel, and changed into a yellow T-shirt and jeans. She reached for the doorknob to go out, then stopped as a dumb smile spread over her. She rolled her eyes at herself as the smile hardened into her face, like one of those perma-smiles worn by clowns and the criminally insane. Oh, man. There was no way she could face him like this. She closed her eyes, breathed deep, tried to think of something seriously bad, but all she could see was that sparkle at the edge of Nick’s eyes when he looked at her…

Oh. This was bad.

A strange tune played behind her, and she opened her eyes. She turned toward the chair, a rumpled mess of her quilt and Nick’s leather jacket. She went to it, reached in the pocket, and grabbed the phone. She glanced at the caller ID and froze in the middle of the room.

No.

It couldn’t be.

The phone continued ringing. Dana looked at the door, then back to the phone, her heart pounding and sinking at the same time.

She swallowed, hesitated, hit the answer button.

“Hello?”

Twenty-one

Nick shoved two eggs from the frying pan onto Finn’s plate with the spatula. Maybe it was the coffee, maybe it was the sunshine, maybe it was just knowing that he had a shot at getting his life back, but Sparky was beginning to grow on him.

“So, I’m in the room,” Finn was saying, “birdcage in my hand, tiptoeing out, when she walks in and asks me what I’m doing.”

“Who?” Nick asked. “The mother or the daughter?”

“Daughter. The mother would have totally kicked my ass. That was one scary broad. Pass the salt?’’

Nick slid the salt across the counter to him. “So what happened?”

Finn chuckled as he salted his eggs. “I started talking crazy. Just random whatnot.
The clock strikes at midnight
and
Sally sells seashells by the seashore,
that stuff. I convinced her she was dreaming, she went back to bed, and I sold the bird the next day for five grand.”

Nick laughed. “When I was getting this thing”—he motioned toward the bird with the spatula—“Vivian comes into the room, negligee flowing—”

“Wait,
negligee
?”

“Hand to God,” Nick said.

“Are you kidding me? What kind of woman wears a negligee anymore?”

“Vivian types. Not sure it’s worth it. Anyway—”

Nick stopped as he heard the door to the bedroom close. He smiled, pushing the rest of the eggs onto a plate for Dana.

“Ah, the lady rises,” he said, glancing at his watch. “And before noon, though not by much. I hope you’re in the mood for over-easy—”

Nick stopped talking and dropped his smile when she came into view.

“Dana?” Finn said. “You okay?”

Nick knew the answer by the look on her face.

She was a country mile from okay.

Finn hopped up off the stool by the kitchen counter and took a few steps toward her. She passed by him and headed straight for Nick, holding out his cell phone. Nick’s stomach took a swan dive, whistling in the wind as it lunged for his toes.

Melanie.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

“You have a call,” she said.

Nick took the phone from her, keeping his eyes on her as he held it to his ear. She crossed her arms over her stomach, staring at him, her eyes cold.

“Yeah,” he said into the phone.

“Nick?” Melanie’s voice grated at him through the phone, her tones so over-the-top innocent that he instantly knew she’d said something horrible to Dana. “I was just calling to see how things are going.”

“Melanie.” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. “How’d I know?”

“I can’t believe you’re at Dana’s. It’s such a coincidence. I’m just—”

“Melanie, I don’t have time right now.”

“Nick, I was just saying that I’m about—”

“I quit, Melanie.”

There was a pause on the phone. “I’m sorry, Nick? This cell phone is giving me fits. You’d think if they could put a man on the moon, they could—”

Nick looked up, caught Dana’s glance, and held it, looking at her as he spoke. He knew it wouldn’t make a difference, but he was still stupid enough to hope.

“The deal’s off, Melanie,” he said. “I’m not coming to California.”

“I can’t understand a word you’re—Look, I was trying to tell you before, I’m five miles down the—”

He flipped the phone shut and laid it gently on the counter, his eyes never leaving Dana’s. There was a moment of gut-wrenching silence, then she spoke.

“You know, I don’t even know what to say,” she said. “And I think we all know what a big deal that is for me.”

“Dana, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh, good, because it looks like you were about to move to California to be with Melanie Biggs.”

“Hey, look at that.” Finn checked his watch and hopped off the stool. “Smoking time. I’ll be out on the porch, if anyone—”

Nick shot him a glance. Finn gave an I-get-it wave.

“You won’t need me,” he said, then slipped out the front door. When Nick returned his gaze to Dana, her eyes were on the floor.

“Melanie Biggs,” she said with a small laugh. “Of all the people in the world, you had to pick Melanie Biggs. What? Was the chick who slept with my prom date unavailable?”

There was an excruciating moment of silence in which Nick tried to think of a good place to start, but he knew there was no good place to start.

“I was going to tell you,” he said finally.

She raised her eyes to his. They were cold blue steel. “When? When the wedding invitations went out?”

“It’s not like that.”

Dana gave him an over-the-top smile laced with sarcasm. “Gee, Nick, you might wanna tell her that, because she had the sound of a woman looking to borrow something blue.”

“What did she say to you?” he asked. Dana opened her mouth to respond, but he held up his hand to stop her. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever it was, she lied. She offered me a job, and I took it. That’s all.”

“You took a job.” Dana shook her head and stared at him, perfect dismay on her face. “From Melanie Biggs. What could possibly be worth working for—oooh, d’ja get good dental?”

Nick felt anger cut a swath through him. “I knew you’d react like this. This is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“I asked you,” Dana said. “Yesterday at Murphy’s, I asked you why you were going to California.”

Nick dropped his eyes to the floor. “I didn’t lie.”

“A lie by omission is still—”

“I know!” he said, then took a breath and lowered his voice. “I know.”

“Do you?” she said. “Do you know what it felt like to walk in here and see you with her?”

“Dana, that was six years ago. And I told you, I didn’t—”

“And I can believe you, I guess. Just trust you at your word. Because God knows you’d never lie to me.”

Nick took a step closer to Dana. She didn’t step back. That was good. That was something.

“Look at me,” he said. She kept her eyes on a spot just above his left shoulder, so he moved into her line of view. Her eyes met his. “You can believe me. There has never been anything between me and Melanie Biggs.”

She shifted on her feet and looked away. Nick sighed. She believed him. Now, of course, came the really hard part.

The forgiveness.

“I’m sorry,” he said, putting both hands on her arms. “But you have to talk to me about this. Give us a chance to work through it. You can’t just run away.”