Maybe Baby (22 page)

“Dana?”

There was no answer, but the sound of clinking glass came from somewhere in the wine racks. At the back wall, light from a flickering candle fought a small battle against the cellar’s darkness. He made his way slowly past the racks, to the very last aisle. Dana sat on a stool next to the back wall, next to a large wooden wine barrel, which was serving as a table.

“Dana?”

She stared into the tiny flickering flame that came from a tapered candle sitting on the center of the upturned barrel. She had one hand on the neck of a bottle of wine, the other holding a full wineglass. She took a drink and slowly lowered the glass, her eyes on her hands.

“Perfect timing,” she said, holding the bottle out with a small smile. “I just started it.”

He glanced at the label and a wash of memory hit him. “The Merlot.”

“We’re a year and a few days past what would have been our fifth anniversary, but what the hell, right?”

She nodded toward the wall, where another stool hung from a series of thick wooden pegs. He pulled it down and sat across from her, watching her as she poured a glass for him. He laughed.

“You knew I’d be coming,” he said.

She handed him his glass. “Of course. I asked for some time alone. I’m actually very impressed with your restraint.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I just didn’t want you to—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she said, holding up her glass. “Before we get into it, a toast.”

He held up his glass. “To what?”

She chuckled lightly. “Don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Okay,” he said. “Here’s to not knowing.”

They clinked glasses and each took a sip. It was good, the Merlot. Dark. Rich. Ages old. The night before the wedding, they’d found two bottles of Grampa Wiley’s inaugural harvest Merlot in the cellar. They’d decided to drink one that night, and have the other on their twentieth anniversary. It was so good, though, that by the end of the first bottle, they’d negotiated the second one down to their fifth anniversary.

“I love you,” she said. Nick had been so wrapped up in the memories of that night with the first bottle that he almost didn’t hear her. He started to speak, but she held up her hand and hushed him.

“I do. I always have. I think now I’ve made it pretty clear to myself that I always will. It’s the only thing I know right now, and I’m kinda clinging to it. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Dana—”

“Shh. Please. Let me get through this first, then I promise I will shut up and let you speak. But I have to say these things out loud because if I don’t, then I won’t unravel all this crap I’ve got in my head, and I have to do that before we can move forward. Does that make sense?”

Nick nodded.

“Oh. Well, I obviously haven’t had enough wine yet then.” She took another sip, set the glass down on the barrel. “I’m thinking of selling this place to Melanie.”

“What?” Nick said. “That’s just crazy.”

“Oh, shit,” Dana said, slapping one hand down on her knee. “I said her name. Now I have to go put five bucks in the kitty.”

“Hey, if it helps, I think you’ve had enough wine,” Nick said. “I’m not understanding anything you’re saying.”

“Me, either,” she said. “It’s just… I love this place. I do. But there’s so much
here,
you know? There’s Grampa Wiley who built the place, and Mom who conceived me here, and Dad who died here. Mom and Dad fell apart here. You and I imploded here.” She met his eye and was silent for a moment, then went on. “I let my mother put herself at risk for this place. Why? So I could thumb my nose at Melanie? I mean, who cares? She’s just evil incarnate. What’s the big deal?” She paused, blinked. “Oh. Crap. I said her name again. Ten bucks.”

Nick leaned forward and took her wine from her. She moved forward and took it back.

“I’m trying to think, Nick. Thinking without wine gives me a headache.”

Nick leaned back and smiled. “Fine. Can I talk yet?”

“No,” she said. “I have to figure this out. I have to know what I want.”

“Right now? Why?”

“Because Mom is risking her life to get money for my winery, and when she comes to me with that money, I have to know what I’m going to do.”

He sighed, took a drink of wine. “Fine. Let’s start with what you know, then. What do you know you want?”

She stared down into her glass and laughed into it. “You.”

Nick smiled. “You got me. What else?”

She looked up at him. “I have you?”

“Yeah,” he said, his smile fading. “You do.”

“But… your life… your job… and don’t think I’ve forgotten that you almost moved to California to work for Melanie.” She cringed. “Fifteen bucks. Damnit.”

Nick couldn’t help himself; he laughed. There she was, at the absolute lowest point he’d ever seen her, slouching over a glass of wine in a dark cellar, getting drunk at noon, and he loved her so much he thought he might die from it right there on the spot.

He got up, took the wineglass out of her hand, and set it on the barrel.

“I think you’ve figured out enough,” he said.

Dana gave him a confused look. “Wait. I haven’t gotten to the part about panty hose versus no panty hose.”

He took both her hands in his and pulled her up to standing.

“And I have to figure out how I feel about trade with China. What are you doing?”

He smiled, cupped her face in his hands.

“What do you think?” he said softly, his eyes searching hers in the candlelight. “I’m shutting you up.”

Then he lowered his face down to hers and kissed her with every thing he had.

Twenty-three

Wine on his tongue. His hands in her hair. Spicy, warm, heavenly. Dana felt her entire body relax against his, followed by a buildup of energy and heat radiating from her abdomen that made her knees buckle a bit. She pulled back and looked up at him, at his beautiful eyes, half-closed and simmering, at his mouth, soft and slightly open, his breath rushing forward over his lips, mingling with hers. Her heart did a gymnastic flip, and she smiled at him.

“If you think that’s gonna shut me up, you’ve got another thing—”

She stopped as his lips found hers again, more insistent this time. His tongue slid over hers as he pushed her back against the wall. Good thing. She was about five seconds away from falling over.

He tugged at her T-shirt, pulling it slowly out of her jeans. His hand slid flat and warm against her stomach, his fingers reaching down into her jeans, undoing the top button.

“So,” she exhaled, “I guess the timing is good now?”

“To hell with the timing,” he said, and suckled on the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

Oh. God. Yeah. That.

She slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, under his jacket, pushing it down his arms to the floor, savoring the feeling of him under her fingers. When his hands returned to her, they circled her waist and lifted her, pressing her against the wall, their hips aligned as she wrapped her legs around him. She dove into his kisses, his mouth hot on hers, spicy with wine.

She slowly lowered her legs and slid down his body. She undid the top button of his jeans and was going for the zipper when one of his hands grabbed hers, the other lifting her chin to look in his eyes.

“Unless you think the timing is bad,” he said.

“Oh, God, shut up.” She reached up and pulled him down to her in a kiss, her other hand working his zipper as his hands made quick work of removing her jeans and panties. He bent down to guide her feet out of them, then slowly moved back up, pressing her against the wall as he kissed his way up her thighs, stopping for a short exploration before moving up to her stomach. She clutched at the wall, grateful for the support. Her knees were all but useless. He straightened up, lifting her again, pressing her against the wall, settling her on top of him as she curved her legs around him.

Oh. God. Yes.

Dana closed her eyes, waiting for him to go inside, to push it all away, to make her feel what only he could make her feel, but he suddenly went still, the only sound, only movement, coming from the staccato puffs of their breathing.

Dana opened her eyes. Her face was level with Nick’s, mere inches away. Her hands were clutched at the back of his neck, her body arching, aching for him. She could tell by the strength of him underneath her that he wasn’t pausing for lack of interest. She looked at him, her eyes darting over his.

“What…?” She barely got the word out. He shook his head, put one finger to her lips. She groaned. He shifted under her, lightly, and her body flamed up, beyond her control. But then, he stopped again. She clutched her hands behind his neck and looked in his eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

“Oh,” she said. “Still on the pill. Recent checkup. Ready for takeoff.”

He chuckled. “Good to know. But that’s not…”

She touched his face. “Then what?”

“Do you want the winery?”

“What?” He shifted again and she rode a quick wave, then opened her eyes and looked at him again. “This really isn’t the time. I can’t think.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m asking you now.”

He moved his hips and slid under her, just about to enter her, when he paused.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, “please remind me to kill you later.”

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I think you know what I want, you rat,” she said.

“Just tell me—”

“I want the winery,” she said. “I love this place, and losing it will break my heart.”

He smiled down at her. “Well, there you go.”

He took her mouth, suddenly, pushing all her thoughts away. She felt herself flowing into him, no difference between where she ended and he began. He pushed into her, filling her, driving her. She clutched at him with one hand, the other clinging to the wall as he moved with her, wave after wave, building up the heat and intensity until they both were screaming in it, shuddering together, as one, his face on her shoulder, her hair flying from her neck in time with the rhythm of his breathing. He nipped at her shoulder playfully, then pulled back, smiling at her. “You’re a rat,” she said.

“I’m a rat that loves you,” he said.

She smiled. “Really? You really do?”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “Of course. Idiot.”

“Well, I couldn’t be sure until you said it, but now you’ve said it, and I have to admit I like the way it—”

“Marry me.”

She froze. Did he just…?

“Yes,” he said, answering her thought. “I just asked you to marry me.”

“Nick…” She sighed. “It’s kind of a hard question to answer when you’re still…”

She glanced downward. His fingertips dug tighter into her hips, and he lifted her up off him and settled her down on her feet.

“Guess I should have asked you when I asked about the winery,” Nick said as he pulled up his jeans.

She pulled on her underwear and turned to face him. “That’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, setting himself down on one of the barstools. “I know that. But… I don’t understand you. We love each other.”

“Yes. We do.” She stepped into her jeans. “Why does that have to equal marriage?”

“Because it does,” he said. “Because I don’t want to go through it all over again. Because I need to know you’re gonna see this through.”

“Jesus, Nick. We’ve been back together for ten minutes.”

“We’ve known each other for seventeen years, Dana.”

“I know,” she said, her voice hitting a high pitch as she tried to figure out her argument. “It’s just that this, being back together, is sudden and we should take some time—”

“I don’t need time,” he said.

“Well, I do.”

He watched her for a moment, then shook his head. “I know I’m rushing things and I know this isn’t fair and damnit, Dana, I just don’t care. I can’t do it again.”

“What? What we just did? Give it twenty minutes.”

“No,” he said, his face serious. “Lose you.”

Dana closed her eyes. Oh, God. She did not want to go there now. Why now? Things were good there for a nanosecond.

She opened her eyes to see him still watching her.
Guess it has to be now.

“Marriage is no guarantee against things falling apart, Nick,” she said. “Hell, look at my parents.”

“We’re not your parents,” he said.

“This is like the worst déjà vu of my life.”

“Just answer me. Are you gonna marry me or not?”

“Are you going to listen to me? Marriage—”

“Freaks you out,” he said. He put his hands on her arms and lowered his face toward hers. “I know. But I’m not asking you about marriage in general. I’m asking you about marriage to me. It comes down to trust, whether or not you believe that I’ll be there for you. If you don’t, I think I should know now.”

Dana slumped in his grip. “Nick…”

“I’m not going through it again, Dana,” he said, releasing his hold on her and straightening up. “I can’t.”

Dana’s heart sank to her feet. “So this is what? An ultimatum?”

He met her eye. “Guess so.”

She felt her entire life crash into her chest until she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes filled with tears, and she knew what she was going to need to get out of there fast before she fell apart into a huge puddle of sobbing stupidity.

“Then no,” she said. “If you have to have an answer right this moment, the answer is no.”

She started to walk away, but he caught her arm. She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat and stared straight ahead.

“I don’t want to see you leave,” she said as the tears fell down her cheeks. “Just give me enough time to get to the house before you go. I think it’s the least you can do.”

She wrenched her arm from his grip and moved out of the cellar as fast as her wooden legs would carry her.

Twenty-four

Finn drummed his fingers on the surface of the table. His eyes went to the clock on the wall, to the bird, then to the keys to the van lying on the table next to the cage.

He drummed his fingers harder, then stood up.

“See, here’s the thing, Horshack,” he said, then stopped and eyed the bird. “Mind if I call you Horshack? No offense. It’s the beak. The resemblance is uncanny.”