He Loves Lucy

by Ann Yost

  ****

  Lucy studied the familiar ceiling over her bed. She wasn’t sure why she’d done it. Instinct, probably. The incident this afternoon had scared the stuffing out of her. Sam could easily have gotten lost on his trek across town. He could have been hit by a car or, God forbid, he could have been kidnapped.

  Something drastic needed to be done about the Langley household. If she left she feared Jake would continue trying to piece together childcare. He’d continue the feud with his mother-in-law and he’d continue to date nobody or inappropriate women like Marilyn Hart. The engagement would provide stability for the children and an opportunity to resolve the situation with the grandparents. If necessary, Lucy could steer Jake toward a better stepmom candidate. She grimaced and hoped she could avoid that task but she didn’t waver about her decision to stick around. The children needed her and so did Jake. At least for now.

  Lucy lifted her left hand and stared at the diamond ring. She’d agreed to wear the ring he’d bought for another woman simply because it was a concrete and constant reminder that Jake Langley didn’t belong to her and that he never would.

  ****

  Saturday morning someone shook Jake awake and he groaned, aware of a dull pounding in his head and a sharper, more insistent pounding in his groin that reminded him that Lucy had agreed only to a temporary engagement. She had not agreed to join him in bed.

  “Daddy, Daddy, Lucy’s in the shower and there’s somebody at the door.”

  His mind, inspired by his morning erection, fixated on a picture of Lucy down the hall in the shower and he moaned.

  “The door,” Lillie said, tugging at his arm. “We’re not ‘sposed to answer it by ourselves.”

  “Right.” He started to fling off the tented sheet when he heard Lillie’s voice again.

  “Where’s your jammies, Daddy?”

  Well, hell. “Could you hand me my jeans?”

  She snatched them off the chair and handed them to him, her eyes curious and bright.

  “Go join Sam. I’ll be right with you.”

  It took him seconds to thrust his legs into the pants. It took a little longer to work the zipper up. He threw on a flannel shirt but didn’t bother with socks or shoes.

  “Damn,” he said, quietly, when he threw open the front door and spotted the fierce-looking woman on the doorstep. Coincidence? Or had the little witch planned this all along?

  Maxine Slocum, dressed in a neck-to-ankle all-weather coat and a nylon rain hat with an enormous, Mylar-enforced brim, stood on the front porch. She was uniquely able to convey both accusation and determination in the same glare. A cold shudder ran through him. At least Maxine’s arrival had banished what was left of his erection. Probably forever. The woman stepped over the sill without being asked, a battleship heading for port and was greeted with an excited chorus.

  “Grandma! Grandpa!”

  “Hello, Jake,” Frank Slocum said. Jake had barely noticed the silent figure who’d entered the house after Maxine. “Sorry to barge in on you like this.”

  The Texas oil man was not particularly tall but he had the kind of muscular build developed from years of climbing oil rigs, the kind that can run to fat. Frank Slocum, however, had maintained a trim physique and Jake could only assume that Maxine rationed his food.

  “Frank,” Jake said. He extended his hand, reluctantly. In a bitter custody suit, he’d have no illusions about the man’s loyalty.

  Maxine straightened to her full height of five-nothing. Jake was always shocked by her lack of inches. She was like a stubborn terrier with a relentless bark that was definitely not as bad as her bite. She frowned up at him.

  “Have these children been fed? It’s nearly eight o’clock!”

  Before he could answer he heard a cheery voice behind him.

  “Maxine and Frank, isn’t it? I’m so sorry I wasn’t dressed in time to greet you. The children have had some orange juice and a banana but we decided to hold off on the blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup until you arrived.”

  Since when had Cheerios, the Langley breakfast staple, morphed into blueberry pancakes? With real maple syrup?

  “Maxine, will you help me make breakfast while Jake and Frank have a chance to catch up?”

  It wasn’t until they were settled in the living room with mugs of hot coffee, the children watching TV on the floor, that it fully registered with Jake what had happened. Lucy had planned this. She’d invited the enemy to the house. His house.

  “Did Lucy invite you?” Jake spoke in an undertone to his former father-in-law.

  “I believe she has some idea of brokering peace between you and Maxine.”

  Jake glowered but said nothing.

  “Would that be so bad?”

  Twenty-four hours earlier Jake would have answered with a resounding affirmative. Under the new plan, the fake engagement, it was different. For one thing, he’d agreed to try to get along with his ex-mother-in-law. For another, his presumed marriage should protect him from legal interference.

  “They’re your kids,” Frank said, in a low voice. “We know it’s tough raising kids alone though and we’d like to help out. And get to know our grandchildren,” he added, being an honest man.

  “I’m willing to give it a try,” Jake said, “but with the understanding that it will be here in Eden. No ranch.”

  Frank looked disappointed but he nodded his agreement.

  “Franklin!” Maxine’s voice carried easily through the house. It was loud enough to wake Wiggles who’d been sleeping in a corner of the sofa. The cat jumped to the ground and scrambled down the corridor to Sam’s room. “Come here this instant!”

  Maxine was shaking her forefinger and her petite body quivered with anger when the men reached the kitchen.

  “Sam ran away yesterday!” She was obviously trying to keep her voice under control.

  Jake glared at Lucy, who shrugged, apologetically.

  “I know I agreed to try reason first, but this is intolerable! These children aren’t supervised or cared for properly. Either they’re allowed to come with us or we’ll get a court order!” Her face was flushed under her frosted hair. She’d probably been attractive at one time, before her daughter’s death and the loss of her grandchildren had turned her into a shrew.

  Or maybe she’d always been like this.

  “They’re not leaving,” Jake said, firmly.

  “I agree.” Frank’s support surprised him.

  Maxine’s eyes narrowed into slits. “They need a mother!”

  “They have a mother,” Jake said. He pulled Lucy against him. “Lucy and I are engaged.”

  She extended her arm to display the ring just as someone knocked on the back door.

  What now? Jake crossed the room in three strides and wrenched open the door.

  A female body catapulted into his arms and feminine lips planted a smacking kiss on his cheek.

  “Congratulations, brother-in-law,” Hallie yodeled. She detached herself and enveloped Lucy in a similar embrace. “I’m so happy for you!”

  Once again there was a male left behind on the front porch. This time he was carrying a baby.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Baz Outlaw said. He had the same sable-colored hair as Cam and Lucy but his eyes were gray. Fine lines crisscrossed his broad face and white teeth flashed in his easy smile. Jake remembered a time, just a few months earlier, when Baz never smiled at all. Especially not at him.

  “We just couldn’t wait to congratulate you,” Hallie interrupted. “Hi.” She grinned at the Slocums. “Maxine and Frank, right? I know you must be thrilled about this. We want to have a party, of course. Maxine? You’ll help out?”

  The older woman gazed at Lucy.

  “You didn’t tell me about this on the phone.”

  Lucy’s expression was apologetic.

  “It just happened.”

  “Is it real?”

  Jake felt lightheaded and he realized he was holding his breath. Lucy had had all night to
regret her actions. Would she let the cat out of the bag? Would she blurt out the truth?

  “It’s real,” she said. She sounded so certain she almost fooled him. “I’m going to be Sam and Lillie’s stepmom.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucy scrubbed the frying pan hard enough to remove the enamel. She could hear Hallie and Maxine chatting as they stacked dishes in the cupboard but she didn’t listen to what they were saying. If she looked up from the sink she could see the children playing catch with Frank and Jake in the backyard. Lucy, Junior was sleeping in her cage and Wiggles was underfoot looking for scraps. It was a thoroughly domestic scene.

  And as fake as a three-dollar bill.

  In twenty-two years of confusion, chaos and screw-ups, she’d finally landed herself in the worst hornet’s nest of all time. Why hadn’t she thought this through? Sure, the scheme had placated the Slocums but now Hallie wanted to throw a party. When the engagement ended, there would be so many people disappointed. Lucy could almost imagine a scenario where she and Jake would marry just to keep the peace. She knew he still felt guilty about the night they’d spent in the cabin. He’d marry her given the least excuse. Besides, his proposal, lame as it was, had been sincere. Marriage had always been his object and it was still the answer to most of his problems. Even marriage to Lucy.

  Could she do it? She loved the children and surely she could continue to work for Ed since they were in school all day. She loved Jake, too, and, therein lay the rub. He didn’t love her. And, what was almost worse, he didn’t respect her. She knew very well that he had no intention of making her a co-parent. She’d be an assistant, fine for reading stories and providing an extra pair of hands and eyes but she wouldn’t be included in the decision-making. She wouldn’t be equal.

  If she married Jake, she’d still be harebrained Lucy in the eyes of the town and, worse, in her own mind.

  She couldn’t do it.

  She wouldn’t do it.

  She heard Hallie’s voice.

  “We’ll have a formal party at the Grange Hall, of course,” she said, “but tonight we’ll have a picnic and invite everybody we know. This is huge.”

  Good grief.

  “I’m sure you and Jake were busy last night,” Hallie added, with a wink, “but have you got any idea when the wedding’s going to be?”

  There really was no way out.

  “Christmastime,” Lucy said. That gave her six months to convince Jake to respect her; half a year to make him fall in love. Or six months to find Jake someone else to marry.

  Dang.

  Hallie filled the Walnut Street house with half the population of Eden. Lucy had just finished serving the children hotdogs, baked beans, potato salad and lemonade when she heard her brother’s voice.

  “I need to talk to you. Come to the study.”

  She followed him, noting the way Maxine and Hallie were chattering with neighbors. Frank and Baz were playing horseshoes and Jake seemed to be in a deep discussion with Ed Stiles. Just one cozy extended family, Lucy thought, sourly.

  Cam poured himself a whisky and offered her one. She shook her head, surprised. Cam seldom drank around his daughter.

  “About this engagement.”

  Lucy tensed. Cam was smart. He undoubtedly knew that Jake and Lucy didn’t love each other. He undoubtedly believed, as Jake did, that she was too young for him. Too flaky.

  “Congratulations.”

  That was it? That was all?

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “He seems like a good man.”

  “Uh, yup. He is.”

  Cam sat on the leather couch and leaned forward, the glass of whiskey in one hand.

  “Apparently I’m no longer a suspect.”

  She blinked at the subject change.

  “It seems Molly Whitecloud gave me an alibi.”

  “That’s right. I was there.”

  Cam looked up at her and his blue eyes were dark.

  “What happened? Why did she do it?”

  Lucy studied her brother’s flushed face. Surely he knew this story better than she.

  “I think she was concerned. She didn’t want you to be blamed for the murder. She told Jake that the two of you had gone over to the casino site and then, when you heard someone coming, you got back in the car and drove around the rez. She told Jake you’d fallen asleep on her sofa.”

  “And he believed her?”

  Lucy didn’t answer the question directly. “He’s pretty observant, Cam. He believes there’s still something between you and Molly.”

  He muttered a curse.

  “Why is it a problem? Wasn’t she telling the truth?”

  Cam eased his legs out in front of him and he slumped back on the couch.

  “It’s true. But there’s nothing between us. Most of the time we weren’t even talking.”

  They were just being in the same space together. Lucy could picture it and her heart ached for her brother. She owed him the whole story.

  “I think she would have called Jake in any case, but her hand was kind of forced because I found one of her earrings out at the murder site. I gave it back to her. She chose to explain it to Jake.”

  Cam made a rough sound that might have been a laugh.

  “She always was honest to a fault. Except about the important stuff.” He drained his glass. “The trouble is her alibi places us both at the murder scene. If the sheriff can’t pin this on anyone else, he’ll come back to her. Or me. Or both of us.”

  “Jake won’t do that,” Lucy said, offended on behalf of her fake fiancé. “He’s not a fool, Cam.”

  The blue eyes so like her own looked bleak.

  “I’m the one who gets control of the casino project,” he said. “And Molly’s the one who wanted it in the first place. In the absence of any other suspects, those motives are gonna look pretty sweet.”

  “But you alibi each other.”

  Cam shrugged, wearily. “If Jake thinks there’s still something between us, he’ll suspect collusion.”

  Lucy couldn’t resist asking him once more. “Is there still something between you, Cam?”

  “Just memories.”

  Just memories. That’s what Lucy would have someday if this engagement didn’t work out.

  “This alibi isn’t going to help me with Sharon Johnson. I doubt if she’ll be so understanding about my spending the night with Molly.”

  “Are you really interested in Sharon?”

  “Of course I am. She’s beautiful and kind and competent. She’ll make a great stepmother for Daisy.”

  “You need more than a stepmother, Cam. You need passion.”

  “You don’t understand because you’re not a parent. Passion doesn’t come into it. Everything has to be about the kids.”

  He was wrong. Lucy did understand. In spite of the warmth of the evening, she suddenly felt cold.

  ****

  Distracted by the new direction of her life, Lucy forgot about her appointment to re-interview Shirley Packer until Monday morning when she left an apology on the woman’s voicemail before she plunged into the two busiest days at the Excelsior.

  She called Miss Otto, the twins’ teacher, told her about Maxine and Frank and offered their services to help with Parade of Presidents. Miss Otto was thrilled.

  “Guess you and the sheriff had some celebratin’ to do this weekend,” Ed said, when they finally got a break. He winked at her. She couldn’t think of a response quickly enough.

  “Oh, come on, Luce. Engaged is as good as married these days. Besides, you spent that night together out on the rez.”

  “That was an emergency,” she said, choking a little. She couldn’t believe she was discussing intimacy—or the lack thereof—with her boss. “In any case, we’re sharing the house with two young children.”

  “Ah, yes. I remember that problem. The secret is to drink lots of wine. Then you won’t care if they hear you.”

  The dismal truth was that there was nothing to hear. Officially,
if secretly, the engagement was still fake. Lucy had been prepared to point that out if Jake had made a move.

  But he hadn’t made a move.

  They’d been polite to one another all weekend and there’d been a sense of warmth and family but he had maintained a strict hands-off policy. She figured he was either attempting to respect the agreed-upon deal or he didn’t want her anymore.

  Lucy was beginning to regret her earlier insistence of separate sleeping arrangements. It was a pity to waste whatever time they had together.

  Maybe she should remind him about the flavored condoms.

  ****

  If Jake’s private life was spinning out of control it was in direct contrast with the stagnating investigation.

  The state boys, urged by the governor’s office, checked in daily. The victim’s wife, represented by her attorney, was eager for progress.

  There was little to report.

  Jake had decided to concentrate on the three people closest to the victim but, even there, his constructs kept breaking down.

  All three had strong alibis. None of them knew how to shoot a bow and arrow, although it was difficult to prove a negative, and only Paula gained financially from Packer’s death.

  The Widow Packer certainly had the power to persuade any unscrupulous bowman to do her a little favor and eradicate her husband. Was that what had happened? Had she hired someone and suggested he steal the arrow from the Penobscots to implicate the tribe? She’d fulfilled the terms of her prenup by getting pregnant—if she was, in fact, pregnant.

  Had the threesome, eager to be rid of the self-centered, dishonorable Packer, decided to combine Paula’s ability to sell ice to an Eskimo with Shirley’s brains and Moore’s cunning?

  Jake found he could believe the idea of a collaboration. He just couldn’t find a strong enough motive for murder, not one that made sense. There seemed to be no financial motive whatsoever.

  Worst of all, Jake couldn’t seem to keep his head in the game. He didn’t trust Maxine and he didn’t like having her around his kids. The uncertainty about his future with Lucy gnawed at him and his decision not to touch her until she gave him a sign that the engagement was real, was driving him insane.