by Pat Warren
“It’s Aaron, and thank you, Matt.”
With a smile, Matt bent down. “What a pretty little clown. What’s your name?”
“Jamie,” Aaron answered for her as he helped his daughter hold out her pumpkin.
Matt placed a generous handful of packaged jelly beans into the pumpkin. “Don’t eat all those at once.” He looked past Aaron at Kate standing on the sidelines, his expression filled with curiosity.
“Let’s go back to your nanny,” Aaron said pointedly as he hoisted up his daughter together with her loot. He didn’t owe the man an explanation about Kate, yet he gave one anyway. He wanted no gossip to get started that he was dating and his wife barely gone.
Yet strolling from the house, he felt silly having rushed to justify Kate’s presence, as if they’d been doing something wrong. It was none of his neighbors’ business whom Aaron chose to see. Annoyed with himself, he walked on.
Kate had to hurry to keep up with Aaron’s long strides. What had set him off this time? she wondered. Aaron was like the walking wounded, always ready to take another self-inflicted hit. He would never recover if he continued to be so hard on himself.
Eventually, he cooled off and slowed down. They made their way along the street, both getting a kick out of the children dressed in a variety of costumes. A couple more neighbors recognized Aaron and stopped to say a few words. He was not unfriendly but not very warm, either. He felt oddly out of place and wished he could join in wholeheartedly.
It wasn’t until they’d crossed the street and begun their journey back toward home that he had his first hearty laugh. They were on the porch of a wide Colonial when Jamie decided she’d had enough of everyone putting treats in her plastic pumpkin yet allowing her to eat none. She sat her solid little bottom down on the walk and refused to budge, holding a piece of candy tightly in one little fist while she shook her head at her father as he tried to coax her up.
Kate couldn’t stifle a laugh. “I’d say she knows what she wants and she wants to eat that now.”
Aaron looked skeptical as he watched the boy go back inside. “Do you think it’s all right to let her eat that? I mean, you read all these stories about pins placed in ap ples and poisoned candy. We don’t know any of these people.”
Kate, too, had her misgivings. There were so many crazies out there. “It looks all right, but it’s probably best not to take a chance. Let’s give her something that’s wrapped from the manufacturer, and she’ll give up the candy corn. She just wants to sample something.”
A good compromise, Aaron thought as he found a small, soft candy bar, peeled back the wrapping and held it out to Jamie. She immediately dropped the one she’d been holding and took the open bar, taking a huge bite. Giving a chocolaty grin, she allowed Aaron to pick her up.
He laughed out loud. “Stubborn little thing got her way.”
Kate decided to take a chance with a teasing remark. “Wouldn’t take after her father, would she?”
His eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “Who, me, stubborn? Surely you jest.”
The curb was high at this end of the street. Carrying Jamie, Aaron took Kate’s hand to help her down and across. Her fingers were like ice. “You’re cold. We’d better head back.”
His fingers were warm. She wanted to curl hers around and keep the contact. “I’m fine, really.”
He noticed she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Reluctantly, he dropped her hand. “I think this little one’s had enough Halloween anyhow.”
They passed the tall shrubs and came to the winding driveway leading to his front door. Aaron smiled as he noticed the gray Lincoln parked behind his Mercedes. “Looks like Grandpa had to come over and share in Jamie’s first Halloween.”
Following him up the walk, Kate wondered what Aaron’s father was like and how he’d view her caring for his only grandchild.
There were five seated around the large oak kitchen table that seemed to be the heart of the house, Kate thought. In her high chair, still wearing her costume, her makeup a bit smudged by now, Jamie sat happily munching on her candy between sips of milk. After snapping half a dozen pictures, the adults had their own treat, courtesy of William Carver—fresh doughnuts and cider.
“Jamie has the makings of a chocoholic like her father before her,” Fitz commented as the child licked her messy fingers.
“And his father before him,” William admitted. Finishing a chocolate-iced doughnut, he wiped his hands on a napkin. “Chocolate is nature’s most perfect food, right, Jamie?” He smiled at his sticky-faced granddaughter.
“I’d heard that was milk,” Fitz interjected, and poured herself a cup of tea, which she much preferred over cider.
“Not true,” William insisted. He turned to Kate, who was urging the baby to take a drink to wash down her candy. “What about you, Kate? Are you fond of chocolate?”
“Certainly. It’s un-American not to be, isn’t it?” She’d liked Aaron’s father on the spot, thinking that his son would look exactly like him one day, a not unpleasant forecast. Only, William had tiny laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, and Aaron had none, which she doubted had much to do with age. Maybe in time, Aaron would learn to laugh more.
Aaron had told his father all that he knew about Kate’s background, and William sympathized with the young woman who’d lost both parents so suddenly. “I understand your folks had a cottage around here somewhere. I’m wondering if we ever met.”
“The cottage is on Pine near the boat harbor. You might have met my father, Dr. George Spencer. But Mom didn’t come up as often. He liked to get away from the hospital weekends, but she was a realtor, and weekends were her busiest times.”
“Of course,” William said, recalling an immaculately groomed blonde. “Carol Spencer. She was a member of the Symphony League, right?” He’d been a symphony patron for years.
Kate nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
“That’s where I met her. A lovely woman. You resemble her a great deal.”
Everyone said so, even the ones who knew she was adopted. “Thank you. You never met Dad?”
An astute observer and a very good listener, William thought he detected more warmth in her voice when she mentioned her father than her mother. He was seldom wrong. “I’m afraid not.” He eyed a second doughnut, made up his mind and chose one without icing this time.
Fitz shook her head. “Will you look at the man? Two doughnuts and he hasn’t gained a pound since I’ve known him.”
William smiled, then glanced at his son. “You’re finally picking up some of the weight you’d lost, Aaron. Looks good on you.”
“It’s due to Kate’s cooking,” Fitz interjected. “She’s got all of us looking forward to mealtime, even the little one.”
“Yeah, she’s a terrific cook,” Aaron chimed in. He noticed a small streak of lipstick on Kate’s cheek, undoubtedly from when she’d applied Jamie’s makeup. Incongruously, only half listening to the table conversation, he’d been thinking he’d like to take her aside and clean off that small spot. He was smart enough to know that cleaning the smudge was just an excuse to touch her. He dropped his gaze to his glass, hoping his thoughts didn’t show.
“You must enjoy cooking,” William went on to Kate, knowing that meal preparation wasn’t exactly in the job description for most nannies, although Fitz had certainly done her share.
“I do. I experiment with recipes while Jamie naps.” Taking the washcloth, she swiped at the baby’s hands as the child yawned expansively. “And speaking of naps, I think she’s ready for a quick bath and bed, if that’s all right with everyone.”
“Of course.” William rose and went over to plant a kiss on his granddaughter’s blond head. “You make a lovely clown, Jamie. Where’d she get this outfit? Did you make it, Fitz?”
“Not I,” the older woman answered. “I’m quite clumsy with a needle these days. Katie bought the material herself and put it together.”
William watched Kate remove the high-chair tray. “You are indeed talented.”
Kate hefted Jamie into her arms. “I had a nanny named Glynis who taught me to sew. She was very special.” She smiled at the smeared little face. “Shall we go around and say good-night to everyone?”
While Kate toted Jamie to each person for a sloppy kiss, William stood back watching. Kate had had a nanny growing up, and now she was a nanny. A doctor’s daughter. Interesting. He wondered if his son knew the story behind the woman who cared for his child.
“I’ll be up in a bit to tuck her in,” Aaron told Kate.
“Fine. It was good meeting you,” she said to William, then left with the still-chattering baby.
“She’s a wonder, that girl,” Fitz commented as she began to clear the table. “Aaron, you haven’t had your dinner. There’s chicken salad in the fridge that Kate made this morning. And homemade soup. Can I heat you some?”
Aaron drained his cider and shoved back his chair. “Later, maybe.”
William reached for his coat. “I think those doughnuts were my dinner.”
“Look at him, Fitz,” Aaron teased, “the minute his grandchild leaves the room, he’s ready to go home.”
“Maybe Johnny will give you a couple more one day,” Fitz added, though she doubted that Aaron’s younger brother would ever settle down.
“Now, that would be a real shock,” William said with a laugh.
“Where is Johnny these days?” Aaron asked, walking to the door with his father.
“Let’s see, I believe he’s working on an oil rig that he bought into,” William answered, not bothering to disguise his skepticism. “Or perhaps an old gold mine. I forget, offhand.”
Aaron was a cynic when it came to his irresponsible brother. But he tried not to let it show. “Well, I hope he makes it.”
“Don’t we all.” William said good-night to Fitz, then turned to his son. “It’s good to see you looking better, Aaron.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Now, if only his attitude were better.
Kate was in the kitchen pulling off Jamie’s snowsuit when she heard the front door open. Pushing the stroller, she’d taken the little girl down the boardwalk to feed the ducks, and they’d been gone about half an hour. She could hear Fitz vacuuming upstairs, so it had to be Aaron, the only other person who had a key. But it was only four in the afternoon.
Aaron walked in, shrugged out of his leather jacket and greeted them both, taking Jamie and hugging her to him.
“Is everything all right?” Kate asked, thinking he seemed a bit nervous.
“Yeah, why?” He kissed Jamie’s chilly cheek and placed her in the playpen.
“I don’t know. You look as if you have something on your mind.” And it worried Kate. The sadness she’d lived with for weeks was lifting from her little by little, mostly due to the child she’d grown to care for more each day. She steadfastly refused to think of having to turn Jamie over to someone else one day. But Aaron’s face was so serious. Was he going to let her go? The thought of having to leave had her heart thumping.
“I do.” Wondering where to begin, Aaron pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. “I need to ask you something.”
Her eyes on the snowsuit she was folding, Kate braced herself. “All right.”
Aaron cleared his throat and plunged in. “I’ve been working on a special project for months, a shopping mall I’ve designed. We’re about to unveil the scale model of the design tonight at a presentation to the corporate officers who commissioned the work. A lot of people will be there—financiers, underwriters, investors, the board of directors, even the press. It’s going to take place tonight at seven at the Seabreeze Inn.”
He saw that she’d scarcely moved since he’d begun his recitation, her expression a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. He imagined she was wondering what all that had to do with her. He wasn’t sure himself.
It was his father’s fault. William had stated this morning that he felt it would be a good idea if Aaron brought a date to the presentation, and he’d suggested Kate. Not as in a real date, but as a platonic, supportive friend. Wives and significant others would be present at the black-tie event, and his dad thought it wouldn’t hurt if he had someone at his side. Family men tended to respect other family men.
He could have objected, Aaron was aware. It hadn’t been presented as an order, by any means. But he could see the value in his father’s suggestion. And he knew that Kate would be an asset to any gathering. He’d wanted to object on other grounds, the ones his father knew nothing about. That being in close proximity to Kate for hours would set his nerves humming and his hands to sweating.
Naturally, he couldn’t tell his father that. Instead, he’d decided to ask Kate and, if she said she’d go, he’d make the best of the evening. And he’d pray he could keep his mind on the presentation instead of the woman who even now was looking at him with huge, hesitant eyes.
Aaron ran a hand through his hair. “I’m telling this badly. The fact is, I’d like you to come with me.” There, he’d finally gotten it out.
She stared at him, dumbfounded. “Go with you? You mean you’re taking Jamie and you want me along to watch her?”
“No, this has nothing to do with Jamie. Fitz will stay with her, I’m sure. You would be with me. Dad will be there. He’s very impressed with you.”
This invitation had come out of the blue, and Kate didn’t know what to make of it. Aaron hadn’t made it sound like a date. More as though she was to accompany him to a company function. Surely, he knew lots of women. Why her? She searched his face and almost asked out loud.
Then the answer came to her. She was safe. She knew him fairly well, knew he wasn’t ready for an involvement. So being with her was easy. Also, probably his father had suggested her. Fine. It wasn’t exactly the invitation she’d dreamed of, truth be known, but why not go? She hadn’t been out among people at a formal gathering in months. She adored Jamie, but a part of her longed for an evening of adult conversation.
It might even turn out to be fun.
She’d been quiet an awfully long time. Aaron hoped he hadn’t somehow hurt her feelings. “Aren’t you going to say something? I mean, I…”
“I accept.”
His expression changed from worried to surprised and finally pleased. “You do? That’s great.” Now that the hard part was over, he smiled. “I’ll go ask Fitz if she can handle things here, but I’m sure she’ll agree. Can you be ready about six-thirty?”
Her mind was racing. Four-thirty now. She had two hours. She’d take a bath, fix her hair. “Yes,” she said, realizing he was waiting for her answer.
“Do you have something, you know, formal-like, to wear? We can run into town if you don’t and—”
“No problem.”
Of course she would. She’d grown up in Grosse Pointe, a very wealthy city, the daughter of a doctor. Even around the house, she dressed in expensive clothes, name brands. He felt like an idiot for having asked. Chagrined, he touched her arm. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
The man was a dichotomy, sometimes so strong and in control, other times as hesitant as a small boy. She smiled at him. “You didn’t. I’d better get going if you want me ready on time. Will you get Fitz to come down to Jamie?”
“Right away.” He started to leave, then turned back. “Thanks, Kate. I appreciate you helping me out.”
“Sure.” She watched him dash off. Helping him out. A business meeting, that was all. Don’t make too much of it, she warned herself.
* * *
Willie’s on the Waterfront was a seafood restaurant situated at the east side of Port Huron overlooking the St. Clair River. At ten on a weeknight, only three tables were occupied. The one in the far corner was where Aaron and Kate sat finishing a late supper of shrimp, clams and oysters.
Kate wiped her hands on the snowy white linen napkin and sat back with a sigh. “That’s positively the best seafood dinner I’ve had in years.”
Aaron dipped his fingers in the small bowl with a floating lemon slice and rea
ched for his napkin. “I thought you’d like this place. You know the food’s good in a restaurant the locals discover and want to keep quiet about. You rarely see a tourist in here.”
And he was glad the restaurant wasn’t crowded tonight. He enjoyed being alone with Kate, looking at her. She was wearing a black cocktail dress with a single long strand of pearls, the simplicity of the classic look a perfect complement to her blond beauty. He’d had trouble keeping his eyes off her all evening.
Sipping her hot tea, Kate studied him over the rim of her cup. Lord, but he was handsome. Some men looked like undertakers in a tux, and others like fat penguins. Aaron looked as if he’d been born to wear one. The oil lamp on the table flickered, reflecting in his dark eyes, which had seemed never to leave her face all evening. It was almost as if he hadn’t really noticed her until tonight.
The presentation had been most impressive. The large red-and-gold room had been decorated with fresh flowers, while strolling musicians had played softly in the background. Businessmen in formal attire and their wives, dressed to the nines, sipped champagne and applauded when the mock-up of the planned shopping center had been unveiled. Modestly, Aaron had accepted congratulations from everyone. She’d been proud to be at his side.
And he’d kept her there, nearby but not quite touching.
Aaron pushed back his plate and leaned forward. “Have I thanked you yet for rescuing me from what would have been a truly dull evening if you hadn’t come along?”
She set down her cup. “I didn’t find it all that dull.”
“Probably because half the people in the room knew you.” He’d been floored when more than a dozen had come up to Kate, many offering condolences over her parents’ death, others just glad to see her and asking where she’d been hiding. “I had no idea you have so many friends up this way.”
Kate had seen how surprised both Aaron and his father had been that she’d known anyone, much less quite a few. “My father owned the Pine Street cottage since before I was born, and some of the people I spoke with tonight also have homes in Grosse Pointe. Dad wasn’t crazy about the social scene, but Mother thrived on it. I met most of them through parties she gave, plus I went to school with their sons and daughters. It’s sort of a cliquish community.”
