by Pat Warren
Turning out the light, he went up to his den.
Work. He would bury himself in work.
Chapter Three
“The presentation is less than a month away, Freddie. I had the prototype in your office weeks ago, and you still haven’t completed the layout.” Aaron felt his anger rising and tried to keep it in check. “I don’t know if you understand the importance of having this model of the shopping mall finished in time for the show.”
“I do understand, Aaron. But I’ve told you that I’m shorthanded, and this isn’t the only job we’re working on with everybody wanting everything yesterday. We can only work so many man hours.” Freddie’s voice was filled with exasperation.
Aaron glanced over at his father sitting calmly in the chair opposite his desk and drew in a slow breath. “All right. Just when can I reasonably expect delivery?”
“Like I said, a couple of weeks.”
“That’s not good enough!” Aaron’s patience had been stretched to the limit. “I need an exact delivery date.”
Freddie sighed heavily into the phone. “All right. November 7 is the best I can do.”
“The seventh? The presentation’s set for the tenth. This is the twentieth of October. That gives you over two weeks to finish and us only a couple of days to repair anything that might be wrong.”
“You won’t need more than three days, because there won’t be anything wrong. We do good work, Aaron. You know that.”
Aaron wished he could tell Freddie to forget the whole thing and he’d take his business elsewhere. But the man was right. They did good work. Slow but good. “All right, but Freddie, if there’s a screwup, I’m going to hold you personally responsible. Goodbye.” With monumental effort, he refrained from slamming the phone down. “Did you hear that?” he asked his father as he picked up a pencil and began tapping it on the desk.
“Yes, I heard.” William Carver crossed his long legs and studied his eldest son. Aaron had always been the steady one, the dependable one, the even-tempered one. His younger brother, Johnny, was the carefree sort, charming but irresponsible, the one William worried about. However, since Stephanie’s death, Aaron had changed.
First, he’d been inconsolable, which had been understandable. Then he’d been guilt ridden, something many experienced—the guilt of the survivor. But recently, just when William had thought Aaron was well on the road to healing, he’d become edgy, short-tempered, often irritable. And William wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the changes.
Why, William wondered, had his son had this relapse in his recovery?
“We’ll have three days to go over everything and make sure it’s up to snuff. That should be enough time unless they truly mess up.”
Aaron snapped the pencil in half and threw down both pieces. “And what if they do?”
“We’ve been using Freddie for fifteen years or more, Aaron. He’s made a few mistakes but nothing major. I think we need to trust him a little on this.”
Even his own father didn’t understand. “Dad, I’ve put six months’ work into this project.” On and off, of course, for some days he’d been able to work very little. “Can you blame me for worrying just a little that something that’s out of my control might cause it all to go down the drain?”
William stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “Aaron, are you having trouble sleeping?”
“What?” Aaron was stunned. “What’s my sleeping got to do with Freddie’s delivery date?” He ran an agitated hand through his hair, wondering if his father were turning senile.
“Maybe a great deal. You seem to be overreacting. Is everything all right at home? I thought when you hired that nanny for Jamie that your situation would improve.”
Aaron had thought so, too. “My problem has nothing to do with my sleep habits or my home. My problem is with this project, the hours I’ve put in.” Forcing himself to simmer down, he leaned back in his chair. “I admit I’m a little short-tempered these days, what with working twelve, fourteen hours a day lately. Who wouldn’t be?”
William didn’t buy that. Aaron had always been a workaholic, as he himself was. But he’d never been so high-strung. “You’re entitled to an occasional blowup. But, son, you’ve been stretched tighter than a drum for weeks. Is there anything troubling you?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.” William narrowed his gaze. Usually, when a man was this strung out, it had to do with a woman. But as far as he knew, there’d been no women in Aaron’s life since Stephanie. Except…“How’s that nanny working out?”
“Fine.” Aaron straightened. “Look, Dad, I’ve got to get back to work.”
He’d hit on it, William was certain. “She’s good with Jamie?”
“Very.” He pulled out his side drawer and rummaged through the files, searching for one in particular.
“And how is she with Fitz?”
“They get along just fine.” Giving up, Aaron swung back to look at his father. “What are you getting at?”
“How do you get along with her?”
Aaron frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? She’s my daughter’s nanny, that’s all. I hardly see her.” He fanned through a stack of folders on his desk. “Where the hell’s the Compton file?”
“I’ll leave you to your work.” Slowly, William stood, then paused to gaze down at his firstborn. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” Troubled dark eyes just stared up at him. “You’ve nothing to blame yourself for, you know.” Quietly, William let himself out of the office and closed the door.
Nothing to blame himself for. Easy for Dad to say.
Aaron swiveled his chair around to stare out the window. A stiff October breeze whipped at the flag on the pole. The river looked cold, and the sky was thick with dark clouds. The somber day suited his mood exactly.
How did he get along with Kate Spencer? his father wanted to know. Like a man living on a precipice, wanting to reach out yet afraid to make a move and riddled with guilt at being there in the first place. Kate’s presence in the house could be felt in every room, whether she was present or not. It was disturbing, to say the very least.
Little things. She’d brought the plants back to life and added fresh potted flowers here and there. They were blooming and thriving, the house regularly filled with color and fragrance. She played the piano beautifully, and often, when he’d open the front door evenings, he’d hear music coming from the library, sometimes Chopin, sometimes show tunes. And laughter. Kate had the remarkable ability to push back the sadness he knew she still felt over her parents’ death and put on a happy face for Jamie’s sake. The child smiled more and laughed often. It was a welcome change.
Yet when he found himself joining in, smiling in response, in minutes, he’d be overwhelmed with guilt. It was as if he could picture Stephanie looking over his shoulder, asking how he could be laughing with someone else when she’d died in the prime of life a mere few months ago. His wife had never been vindictive or critical, so he knew the scenario had come from inside him. Yet he couldn’t seem to turn it off.
Swiveling back toward his desk, he picked up the card his secretary had given him only yesterday. Marge was in her forties, an excellent assistant with the kindest eyes he’d ever seen. The card listed the phone number of a grief support group, one Marge had joined when her sixteen-year-old daughter had died in a hit-and-run auto accident. Apparently, Marge had noticed his mood swings, too.
He tossed aside the card. A group held no appeal for him. He’d get over this on his own. He was a strong man, one who controlled his life, sometimes by sheer willpower. He’d been in a terrible accident himself not all that long ago. That was where he’d met Stephanie, in the hospital he’d been taken to after they’d pried him out of the wreckage that was his car, before she’d been assigned to cardiac care. The doctors had said he might never recover fully. But he’d made up his mind and, a year later, he was playing tennis and running five miles a day. Six months later, he’
d married Stephanie.
It hadn’t been easy, but then, what was? He’d manage this, too, somehow.
Opening his day planner, Aaron glanced at his ap pointment schedule. Three o’clock was circled in red. Jamie’s checkup at the doctor’s office. He frowned, recalling that he’d discussed the appointment with Kate earlier in the week. He’d asked Fitz to take Jamie the past two visits. He couldn’t keep passing on his obligations. Kate was too new on the job to go alone with Jamie. He’d have to make the time.
Straightening, Aaron bent to his work, since he’d have to leave early today.
The traffic was heavy, and Aaron was annoyed. They’d be late for Jamie’s doctor’s appointment if he didn’t get home soon. Impatiently, he swerved around a car full of tourists dawdling along gazing at the autumn leaves, and turned onto his street. Minutes later, he was hurrying inside and calling for Kate.
“In here,” Kate answered from the kitchen.
He heard Jamie’s little giggle as he made his way back. In the doorway, he stopped, stunned at the scene before him. Fitz was removing a cookie sheet from the oven while Kate was icing cookies at the table, and Jamie, seated in her high chair, was apparently helping out. She had icing and cookie dough all over her face, her hands, on the sleeves of her shirt and even in her hair.
A big orange blob was on the end of her nose, making Jamie giggle. She gave Aaron a messy grin as she stuck a gooey finger into her mouth.
“You’re home early,” Kate said as she finished icing a pumpkin cookie. “Come join us.” Hearing no response, she glanced toward the doorway, noticed his stormy expression and felt the smile slide from her face. “Is something wrong?”
“Plenty.” Hands on his hips, Aaron marched in. “Jamie’s doctor’s appointment is in half an hour. I reminded you on Monday to have her ready.”
“Oh, no,” Kate whispered. “I forgot. I’m sorry.” Quickly, she wiped her hands on the dishcloth and reached for the baby. “I’ll clean her up and have her ready right away.”
“Do you know how hard it is to get these appointments? You have to wait weeks sometimes. I left an important meeting so I could go with you, and I come home to this…this unholy mess and my daughter sugarcoated from stem to stern.” His voice was louder than he’d intended, but damn it, he needed her to know how badly she’d upset his schedule. Pointedly, he looked at his watch. “Now we’ll never make it.”
Unused to yelling, Jamie started to cry. Kate had the protesting baby in her arms, her own face pink with embarrassment. “I’m truly sorry. We’ll be right back.”
Aaron watched her leave, then slammed his keys on the table. “Damn! Now I’ll have to take another day off for this because she forgot.”
Fitz stood by the oven, hands on her hips, listening to the man go on. “I seriously doubt that Dr. Benson won’t take you if you’re a bit late. He’s not that sort of man, and besides, you’ve known one another since boyhood.”
“Yeah, well, it’s wrong to take advantage of a friendship by showing up late for a professional appointment. Personally, I hate it when my clients are late.”
She’d had about enough of his childish behavior. “I’ve no doubt you do. How do you punish them, refuse to deal with them again?”
Taken aback, Aaron just stared at her.
“You know, when you were rude as a boy and I was watching after you, I’d send you to your room so you could think over what you’d done. What, I wonder, would make a grown man change his ways?”
It took a lot to set off Margaret Fitzmaurice, but she had no fear in speaking up when she saw a wrong that needed correcting. What could he do, fire her? Not likely.
Fitz saw the beginnings of a look of chagrin on Aaron’s face, but it wasn’t yet enough. “I can’t imagine you’d take out your bad temper on that sweet girl. Forgetting something you told her four days ago is hardly a crime where I come from. It’s thanking her you should be doing, for watching your little one night and day. She doesn’t even take her days off, did you know that?”
Aaron’s collar felt a little tight. “Maybe I was a little rash.” Angry with himself, he went to stand by the window, looking out but seeing Kate’s flushed face. Just hours ago, his father had told him he’d overreacted in a business situation. Now he’d managed to do it again at home.
“ ‘Rash’ doesn’t cover it. You owe the girl an apology, Aaron. The man I raised would make mistakes but always admit it when he was wrong.” She saw his back stiffen and hoped she was getting through to him. “You’ve a right to grieve, no one will deny that. But you’ve no right to take out your unhappiness on the people who try to make your life easier.”
The oven bell rang. Fitz bent to remove the last batch of cookies, set the pan on the rack to cool and left the kitchen. She’d given him a bit to think about. Now she’d wait to see what he’d do.
He heard her soft, soothing voice before he reached the doorway to Jamie’s room. Feeling uncomfortable, for he rarely had to apologize, Aaron paused.
“There, there, sweetie, it’s all right,” Kate told the sniffling child as she tugged a clean shirt over her head. “Daddy didn’t mean to yell and he wasn’t angry with you. Never with you, sweet baby.” She kissed the curly head and smiled as she noticed that Jamie had stopped that awful hiccuping cry. “Another minute and we’ll be finished here.” She hurried to change her diaper.
Aaron bit the bullet and walked in. “Kate, I’m sorry.” He saw that she didn’t turn around, so he stepped nearer. “It’s no excuse, but I’ve had a messy day at the office. I apologize.”
Kate blinked as she snapped Jamie’s corduroy pant legs together. Why was it that apologies so often made her want to cry along with the guilty party? “It’s all right,” she told him.
“No, it isn’t.” He saw his daughter eye him suspiciously, probably wondering if he would start raving again. “I was wrong to yell, wrong to take my mood out on the two of you. I should have called to remind you of the appointment.” He touched her arm as she finished diapering and waited until she looked up. “I won’t do it again, I promise.”
Kate managed a smile. “No harm done, and we’re ready. I’ll just get her jacket. Her diaper bag’s packed.”
Cautiously, he picked Jamie up, hoping she wouldn’t start to cry again. He was in luck, as his red tie grabbed her attention.
“I hope you don’t mind going with me. I’ve never taken her to the doctor alone.” Frankly, he was worried that Benson would ask him a question about his daughter that he couldn’t answer. “It’s just a wellness check. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
Kate stood in the doorway with bag and jacket. “We’ll be fine. Let’s go.”
Aaron nuzzled Jamie’s warm neck, inhaling her babypowdery scent. “I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Dr. Ronald Benson stuffed his stethoscope into the pocket of his white lab coat, pushed his black-framed glasses higher up on his nose and turned to his old friend standing at the foot of the examining table. “She’s a healthy little specimen, Aaron. I see no major problems.”
Aaron watched his diaper-clad daughter play with the tongue depressor the doctor had handed her to divert her attention during the exam. “Well, that’s good news.”
“There is one thing I want to ask. Does she ever pull at her ears? Do you notice any drainage on the crib sheets?”
Puzzled, Aaron turned to Kate, who was standing at the head of the table. “I don’t think so. Do you?”
“No drainage, Doctor,” Kate answered, “but occasionally she tugs at her right ear. I always swab both ears out after her bath, and she doesn’t act as if she’s in pain. No fever, either.”
Benson nodded. “Good. Yes, that’s the ear. It’s a little sore looking, though I don’t believe it’s infected, not yet anyway.”
“Infected?” Aaron asked. “Jamie has an ear infection?”
“She may be developing one. We’ll keep an eye on her. I don’t want to put her on an antibiotic too soon, since
her system might get immune to it and water down the effect later.” He saw Aaron’s frown and patted his shoulder. “It’s not unusual for children to get ear infections, Aaron. If they persist, we often insert a tube to help drainage and prevent injury to the eardrum. Most kids outgrow them by age five. I just wanted to mention the possibility, but I’m not concerned yet. It appears to me that she’s well taken care of.”
Subdued, Aaron looked at his daughter, who’d given up on the tongue depressor, crawled to the far side and was holding out her arms to Kate to be picked up.
Kate could see that Aaron was a little hurt that the baby had reached for her instead of her father. It was only because Jamie spent nearly every waking moment with her, while Aaron was rarely around. She held her a moment before turning to Aaron. “Would you like to dress her?”
Feeling oddly left out, Aaron shook his head. “No, you go ahead.” He walked out with Ron Benson. “So you think there’s nothing to worry about, right?”
“Absolutely.” The doctor stopped in the hallway. “And if Jamie did have a problem, I have a feeling that young lady you’ve hired would manage just fine. She seems to care a great deal for the child.”
“Yes, she does.” And she also knew far more about his daughter than he himself did. That didn’t set well with Aaron. He’d been so preoccupied trying to overcome the loss of his wife that he hadn’t bothered to get to know Jamie.
That would have to change, Aaron decided as he waited for Kate to join him.
Kate tried not to laugh out loud. She totally lost the battle not to smile. But it wasn’t every day that she witnessed a grown man down on all fours playing horsey with his little girl. If only his partners could see him now, she thought, her mouth twitching as she stood in the doorway of the family room while Aaron jogged around the big, free-form coffee table with a giggling Jamie on his back.
