Dismay clouded Melissa’s expression. “I’ve missed a lot.”
“I’ve missed you,” Dawn said, and smiled when her aunt kissed the top of her head.
The music changed to a march. Conversations among the guests died out.
From the front hall, the younger flower girl entered. Clutching a bouquet, she strode up the aisle a little too fast for the music.
“Slow down, for Pete’s sake,” growled a bulldog of a man sitting on the aisle.
The girl—Amber, Edmond recalled—flinched and slowed. Her sister, following, scowled at the man from outside his range of vision.
Edmond raised an eyebrow questioningly at Melissa. Leaning close, she murmured, “That’s the girls’ stepfather. Vince Adams.”
“The billionaire.” A private equity investor, Vincent Adams was famous throughout Southern California for his business success and for his ruthlessness. He was also, Edmond had learned from the hospital administrator, considering donating millions of dollars to expand the men’s fertility program.
As the girls took places by the arch, a pretty young woman in a dress matching theirs marched up the aisle. “That’s Anya’s sister Sarah,” Melissa murmured. “Anya has a big family. They couldn’t all come, but they’re planning a reception in Colorado after the baby’s born.”
“How big a family?” Dawn whispered.
“She’s one of seven kids.”
“Wow.”
The music shifted to “Here Comes the Bride.” Anya entered from the hall on the arm of a distinguished older man, no doubt her father. Edmond wasn’t up on the latest fashions in wedding gowns, but this one was suitably white with a lot of lace. It skimmed Anya’s expanded midsection, a reminder that she was only a few months from delivering her own baby.
“Is everybody pregnant?” Dawn asked, a little too loudly. Nearby, several people chuckled. “I’m sorry.”
Noting her tense expression, Edmond leaned close. “It’s a fair question,” he whispered.
“Yes, this house is baby central,” Melissa said softly.
Dawn relaxed. The poor kid sometimes acted as if she carried the weight of the world, Edmond thought.
It was her parents’ job to protect her childhood. Too bad they’d failed. Who would protect her now?
* * *
TO MELISSA, JOY illuminated the familiar room. How Anya glowed as her father handed her to the groom. Judging by Jack’s grin, it took all his self-control not to hoist Anya in his arms and whisk her off to their secret honeymoon destination, which Melissa had discovered was Santa Catalina Island. Rod had mentioned it to Karen, who’d passed it on to Melissa. Secrets didn’t stay secret long in Casa Wiggins.
Located a little over twenty miles off the California coast, the island was noted for its old-fashioned charm and for ocean-related activities in its clear waters, including snorkeling and viewing undersea life from glass-bottom boats. Jack had arranged for them to stay at a romantic Victorian bed-and-breakfast with a view of the small-boat harbor in the town of Avalon.
How wonderful that the baby, whom they planned to name after both their grandmothers, would be born to such a loving pair. She was a lucky little girl.
A fluttery sensation alerted Melissa that her as-yet-nameless babies were stirring. Whenever she tried to focus on names for them, her mind went blank. Well, what was the rush?
Beneath the arch, Jack kept peeking at his bride, tuning out the minister. Anya gave him a poke, which restored him to the proper demeanor.
How comfortable they were with each other, Melissa reflected. Edmond’s and her ceremony had been more formal, although every bit as enchanting. Her father, a psychologist, and her mother, a high-school math teacher, had treated her to the wedding of her dreams. A hotel ballroom in Santa Monica, the coastal city where they’d lived, had provided a fairy-tale setting for soul mates embarking on a life together. Or so she’d believed.
She’d met Edmond in a coffee shop at UCLA, where she’d been earning her master’s degree in molecular biology and Edmond had been a law student. She’d admired his boldness in taking a seat at the table with her and her friends. He’d been a complete stranger but he’d teasingly claimed they kept running into each other. After she played along, they’d stayed to talk hours after her friends left. From then on, they’d gravitated to each other, a pair of intense high-achievers who shared many of the same political and social views. Their wedding day had been the happiest day of her life.
During her painful recovery from the divorce, friends had repeatedly advised her to throw her wedding album away, but Melissa couldn’t imagine sacrificing those memories. There was an especially lovely photo of her with the maid of honor, Edmond’s sister, Barbara, who’d bloomed with sixteen-year-old innocence.
Only a few months later, Barbara had run off to live with an ex-con. Despite Edmond’s protests, his normally stern father had refused to call the police. Edmond himself had tried hard to reach out to his sister, calling and dropping by her place, but Barbara had refused to talk and Simon had threatened him.
Why hadn’t her parents struggled harder to keep her? They could have brought charges against the man. As for Edmond, he’d taken his sister’s rejection hard, as if he’d failed her. Melissa suspected the situation had reinforced his conviction that he wasn’t cut out for parenthood. She’d soothed him as best she could, hoping that he’d heal. She’d learned the hard way that he hadn’t.
Now, Dawn’s mother was in jail. What crime had Barbara committed? How long would she be separated from her daughter?
While the minister expanded on the transformative power of marriage, Dawn wiggled in her seat. Edmond murmured to her—Melissa caught the words soon and food.
“Okay, Uncle Eddie.” Trustingly, Dawn rested her cheek on his arm.
A glaze of tears in his eyes might not seem remarkable, considering how many people cried at weddings. But to Melissa, they showed how much Edmond’s usually guarded heart was aching for this little girl. Was he finally discovering a paternal instinct?
These past three years, she’d pictured him enjoying his freedom, traveling abroad the way they used to. She’d fought painful images of him finding a woman who shared his tastes and his pleasures.
Instead, here he was, still single. Evidently he’d been tied up with family issues. He’d shouldered an unusual amount of responsibilities since his teen years, with his father frequently off driving long-distance truck routes and his reticent mother intimidated by her strong-willed daughter. Edmond’s efforts to help raise his sister had smashed head-on into her adolescent rebellion. No wonder he’d craved peace and quiet as an adult.
As Anya and Jack exchanged rings and said their vows, tears blurred Melissa’s own gaze. She and Edmond couldn’t go back to their wedding day eight years ago and make things come out differently. Yet today he was showing a different side of himself....
What an idiot she was! When she entered into this pregnancy, she’d been well aware that she couldn’t expect any man to love and care for her and her babies. Her longing for them had overwhelmed all other considerations.
They were enough to fill up her life and her heart. They had to be.
Chapter Four
Edmond had intended to stay after the ceremony only long enough to be polite. He’d assumed his presence might be uncomfortable for Melissa.
Instead, she was friendly toward him, while Dawn eagerly joined the red-haired flower girls at the buffet table in an area connecting the kitchen and den. He was glad he’d brought her. His niece could use a change of scenery to take her mind off visiting her mom in jail.
Worse might lie ahead for Barbara. Edmond tried not to dwell on that disturbing prospect. He needed today’s change of pace as much as Dawn.
“You and your housemates are wonderful cooks,” he told Melissa as th
ey waited in line. Delicious smells wafted from the array of dishes, while a separate table displayed a three-tiered white cake decked with blue and red berries and, on top, a large red heart. Plates of cookies surrounded it, presumably for those too impatient to wait for dessert.
“The food is mostly Karen’s doing. I’m the baker. I can’t take credit for the wedding cake, though,” she added. “I’m the cookie lady.”
“I’m impressed by anything people do in a kitchen, other than set fires.” Growing up, Edmond had learned the basics, but rarely cooked.
“When we moved into the house, the five of us voted to take turns, each fixing dinner for a week. That didn’t last,” Melissa admitted. “Now we all pitch in or go our own ways.”
“The kitchen must have been upgraded.” From where they stood, Edmond noted gleaming new appliances.
“Karen remodeled after her mother died last year,” Melissa said. “She didn’t change the basic shape of the room, though. You still have to perform the limbo to get into the pantry.”
“So she inherited the place. I was wondering why she bought a house here, considering the smell. Although the scenery is striking.” Sliding glass doors offered a view across the patio and rear yard to the gray-and-green estuary. “What’s the layout—any bedrooms downstairs?” While he didn’t expect a tour of the place, Edmond was curious about the sleeping arrangements.
“Lucky has a small suite through there.” She indicated a doorway on the far side of the den. “Karen, Zora, Anya and I have bedrooms upstairs.”
“Except now Rod’s taking Anya’s place,” he muttered, half to himself.
Melissa ducked her head. “I keep forgetting.”
“Won’t that be awkward, having a guy upstairs with the ladies?”
In a low tone, she confided, “He and Karen have become close. I hope that won’t blow up in our faces, but she seems happy, and he’s a solid guy underneath the kidding.”
“Yes, I got that impression.”
As Edmond filled his plate at the serving table, he recalled his intention of cultivating new acquaintances. There were a lot of people here, and he supposed he could chat them up, but he’d much rather spend the afternoon in Melissa’s company.
Also, he suspected many of the guests, aside from those he’d already met, were from out-of-town. The father of the bride was busy tending to his wife, who moved stiffly with the aid of a cane. Jack was introducing his friends to a fiftyish woman dressed in knock-your-eyes-out Caribbean colors. Edmond had heard that Jack’s mother lived in Haiti and raised money for charities there.
He decided to forget duty for one day. Aside from keeping an eye on Dawn, of course. She and the two older girls had gone outside to eat at the patio table. Before they closed the glass door behind them, Dawn had sent Edmond a questioning gaze. He nodded his approval. If the girls didn’t mind the smell, more power to them.
“I’m glad she’s found playmates,” he said, following Melissa to a well-worn couch. “She tends to be shy, especially with new people. Jack’s nieces seem outgoing.”
“Except around their stepfather,” she murmured.
Edmond didn’t spot Vince Adams or his wife in the den, although they’d been at the head of the buffet line. He assumed the couple had carried their plates into the dining room, where some of Melissa’s housemates had put back the dining room table and set it immediately after the ceremony. That suited him fine. No matter how important the Adamses might be as potential donors, Edmond was in no mood for apple-polishing, especially to a guy who’d publicly humiliated his stepdaughter.
“You’re good with Dawn.” Melissa set her plate on the coffee table.
“I try.” He stared moodily at his food. “Let’s hope I do better with her than I did with my sister. I wish I understood where I went wrong.”
“Why do you blame yourself for her problems?” she asked.
“When we were young and Dad was on the road, Barbara used to confide in me about everything, value my advice, follow me around. But when she hit adolescence, I was commuting to college so I couldn’t be there for her. She began acting out, cutting school, skipping her homework assignments.”
“Many teenagers rebel to a degree,” she pointed out.
“Sure, but then she ran off with Simon. I should have done more to stop her.” It had been only a few months after their marriage. “She was sixteen. We could have gone to the police.”
“That was your parents’ decision, not yours,” she reminded him. “And she did get legally emancipated after Dawn’s birth.”
“I can’t shake the sense that I let her down. Did she mention why she’d been so eager to leave home?” While Edmond knew Simon could be charming and manipulative, surely his sister hadn’t been totally blind to the man’s faults.
“I sensed she was angry, but not necessarily at you. She didn’t say anything specific, though.” Flecks of green stood out in Melissa’s hazel eyes. “I tried to talk to her after she had the baby, about planning a future for herself and Dawn, but she pushed me away. Edmond, why is she in jail? That sounds serious.”
“It is.” Months of holding his emotions in check, of standing strong for everyone around him, yielded to the relief of confiding in a person he trusted. “That jerk Simon talked her into driving the getaway car for a robbery.”
“I can’t believe she’d do something that stupid.” Melissa set down her fork, giving him her full attention.
Around them, people mingled and chatted. Edmond saw Karen glance their way as if about to approach, but he shook his head. She went in another direction. He decided he liked that woman. “According to Barbara—after the fact—Simon claimed he owed money to a criminal gang and that if he didn’t pay up, they’d kill him.”
“Was it true?”
“I have no idea.” Either way, that didn’t excuse the man’s crimes, nor Barb’s. “During the robbery, he and a policeman traded gunfire, and Simon was fatally wounded. The officer escaped injury, mercifully.”
That was fortunate both for the officer and for Barbara. Under California law, the district attorney could have charged her with murder just for being a participant in the robbery. However, perhaps doubting that a jury would convict her of murder under the circumstances, the D.A. had only charged her with robbery.
“Your sister was waiting in the getaway car?” Melissa asked.
“That’s right.” She hadn’t witnessed the shooting, but she’d heard gunfire. “Simon staggered into the passenger seat. While she was arguing that they should go to a hospital, he died.”
Melissa shook her head. “How awful.”
“I can’t spare any regrets for that man,” Edmond said bitterly. “He ruined my sister’s life—with her compliance.”
“What about Dawn? Where was she during all this?”
“She’d gone to the beach with a friend’s family.” The shootout had occurred on a Saturday, while his niece was out of school. “The police contacted my father and stepmother, who called me. I picked her up and broke the news.” He clenched his fists at the memory.
Edmond had built up to the subject gradually during the drive from the beach, telling his niece as much as he’d learned of the robbery and assuring her that her mother was unharmed but under arrest. Dawn had taken the news of Simon’s death solemnly, her response hard to read.
Then, tearfully, she’d asked, “Is it because I was mad at him?”
Shocked, Edmond had assured her that Simon’s death wasn’t her fault. “Neither you nor I nor anyone else has magical powers,” he’d told her, hoping that was the right thing to say. “This has nothing to do with you. Why were you mad at him?”
“He yelled at me for leaving my toys out.”
Edmond hadn’t been sure a seven-year-old understood what death meant, but later, after he’d hired a therapist, she�
�d insisted that Dawn did understand. Grieving was a complex process, she’d added. As Dawn entered new phases of development, she’d revisit the loss. For now, she needed to feel secure that the other people she loved weren’t going to disappear from her world, too.
Unfortunately, Edmond couldn’t promise that about Barbara. He could only do his best to hold Dawn’s world together. Given his poor track record with his sister, he sometimes panicked over the missteps he might make.
Melissa touched his arm, a soothing gesture that brought him back to this comfortable room and cheerful gathering. “Dawn’s been through a lot this past year,” she said. “So have you and Barbara.”
“It’s been rough.” He sketched the rest of the sorry tale. After Barb’s arrest, a judge had granted bail, and she and Dawn had moved in with his father, Mort, and stepmother, Isabel, a retired nurse’s aide. During the trial, the grandparents had helped supervise the little girl, with frequent visits from Edmond until the jury had come back with the verdict two weeks ago. The jurors had convicted his sister of robbery and related charges. “Her sentencing is Monday afternoon.”
She blinked. “The day after tomorrow?”
“That’s right.” Edmond had already arranged to take the day off work to be there for moral support. Barb’s defense attorney, Joseph Noriega, had submitted a sentencing memorandum requesting leniency. By now the judge also had a probation report and the prosecutor’s recommendation. Edmond suspected they’d be less favorable.
Melissa’s hand cupped his. “What kind of sentence is she facing?”
“Minimum, a year in county jail plus probation.”
“And the maximum?”
Noriega had warned them to prepare for a longer term, to be served in state prison. “I’m trying not to dwell on it. Let’s wait till we know for sure.”
“How can the judge separate her from her little girl any longer than necessary?” Melissa asked.
“She’s the one who chose to break the law.” As an attorney, Edmond was a sworn officer of the court, and he understood the legal perspective. “If Simon had lived, she might have negotiated a deal based on testifying against him. But that’s not possible now.”
The Surprise Triplets Page 4
