by Linda Cajio
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I had some catching up to do.”
“It piles up, doesn’t it?” she said, gazing at him.
“Yes.”
They had been whispering so as not to disturb the baby. Despite the courtesy, Patrick blinked sleepily and opened his eyes. He stared at her unwinkingly, still sucking on his thumb.
“I suppose you want a bottle,” she said to the infant.
“He’s about due anyway,” Dan said, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll get it.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, hating the stilted conversation between them. Even in the beginning, she doubted if they had been so stiff with each other.
She changed Patrick’s diaper with absentminded expertise, as she thought about how painfully politely she and Dan were acting. She wished desperately for a fight, but the spark of anger was gone completely. What had happened earlier showed how … unsuitable they were for each other, she finally realized. Opposites might attract, but that was hardly the foundation for a solid commitment.
“I’ll feed him,” Dan said as he returned from the kitchenette.
She nodded and handed the baby over to him. Awkwardly, she perched on the arm of the sofa and watched, not wanting to leave yet.
“What was she like?” Dan suddenly asked.
“Hard. Streetwise and greedy. I’m sorry I lost her.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I am sorry. I didn’t know what else to do, Dan.”
He was silent for a moment. “Forget it.”
He turned away, and she felt the rejection as sharply as if he had said it. She closed her eyes. Nothing in her life had ever been as painful as this moment.
“Since you have him,” she finally said, opening her eyes, “I’ll go to bed then.”
She got up and walked toward her old bedroom.
He didn’t stop her.
Eleven
“So you went to meet the girl yesterday. Without telling me.”
Angelica grimaced as she heard the exasperation in Martha’s voice clearly through the telephone line. It seemed she wouldn’t get past this point in the story again. “I’m telling you now, Martha.”
“You’re a tad late, aren’t you?” Martha boomed.
“Yes.” Angelica readjusted the receiver at her ear and sighed. “She asked me to meet her, and she made it clear I was to come alone. I don’t think she would have talked to anybody else.”
“Well … that did put you in a bind, I admit.”
“Yes. Dan knew absolutely nothing about it. I felt I had to do as she asked.”
“I see. I don’t suppose there was much else you could do.…”
Angelica stiffled a bitter laugh at Martha’s words. She would have been much happier if another person had understood.
“… But you should have reported the meeting to me first thing afterward.”
“Yes, I know.” Angelica was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry. I … Dan wasn’t too happy with me when I told him, and to be truthful I forgot about you.”
“Gave you hell, did he?”
If only it were just that, Angelica thought, briefly closing her eyes. “Yes. He gave me hell.”
Martha was quiet for a moment, and Angelica wondered if the other woman realized there was more to the “hell” than just angry words and would drop the subject. She hoped so, since she was in no mood to explain.
“Did you get any information from the girl?” Martha asked at last. “Who she was? Where she lives? Anything?”
“Not much.” She stared at Patrick as he lay in his crib and tried to catch his Winnie-the-Pooh mobile. Piglet kept spinning out of reach. “She claimed her name was Jane Smith, no address. She wanted money for Patrick. For a private adoption.”
“I hope to hell you didn’t give her any,” Martha said sternly.
“Of course not. I know better than that. I tried to get her to call you. She got scared, and I didn’t want to press her too much, but she took off anyway. I don’t think I handled it well.”
“You probably did,” Martha said. “It’s obvious that it was a deliberate abandonment of her baby, and she was compounding that by trying to extort money. The last person she would want to talk to is me. It’s no wonder she got scared. However, she sounds like an opportunist.”
“She seemed that way,” Angelica said. “I couldn’t believe her callousness over Patrick.”
“There’re all kinds in the world, and I’ve seen most. At least you can give me a description of her, and we do know that she was in the city as of yesterday. She might call again, and if she does, this time you call me right away. We’ll decide then how to handle a meeting. We’re very flexible about this kind of thing.”
“You’ve done it before?” Angelica asked.
“I told you, we’re not bureaucratic ogres.”
“You mean you’re not.”
Martha chuckled. “I’m notorious for bending rules.”
When Angelica finally hung up the phone, she was able to smile slightly. It was a relief, she thought, to truly talk to someone about yesterday’s disastrous meeting. And to hear someone understand—just a little. She didn’t feel she had made too many mistakes.
A tiny voice reminded her that Martha was not exactly the same as Dan. And yet she couldn’t help feeling that Dan should have understood her dilemma. But he hadn’t. In bewilderment, she could only wonder why.…
“No more,” she said out loud, getting up off the sofa.
He had let her go last night, just let her walk into her old bedroom without a word. She had shut the door and heard finality in the quiet click of the lock. The pain had been blinding, but she had refused to give in to tears. This morning when Patrick’s cries had awakened her from her semiconsciousness, she felt as if she had a tremendous hangover.
Four aspirin later, she didn’t feel that much better. The awkwardness between her and Dan had been worse with the daylight. Even Patrick had finally sensed something was wrong between his adults, and he’d been fussy that morning until after Dan had left for the office.
It only confirmed what she had realized last night. She and Dan were on too entirely different levels emotionally to have a workable marriage. In fact, yesterday was only the latest example of their basic lack of understanding. And the more they stayed together the worse things would get.
Yet none of that had stopped her from falling in love with him, she thought. It was ironic to realize that the man was the wrong man. Everything between them had been unique … and totally wrong. She had fought her attraction for so long and succumbed anyway. The pain she was feeling now was well deserved for the mess she had created.
Sadly, she watched the baby frown, then begin to fuss as he became bored with the mobile game. She stood up and went over to the crib. Lifting Patrick up, she cuddled the little sweetly-soft body to her breast. A wave of love swept over her as he tucked his head naturally onto her shoulder.
“You certainly know how to complicate things, bunny,” she whispered, her heart telling her what she would have to do.
Dan wanted this child so much, she thought. One day soon Patrick would be free for adoption … and she loved Dan enough to step away when that time came. Tonight, she would tell him that. It would be so hard to let them both go … yet she could do it, she told herself, swallowing back her tears. Because she loved them.
And because it was the right thing to do.
“Yes, Mike. I’ll tell her. She’ll be pleased.”
Dan closed his eyes as he held the telephone receiver to his ear and listened helplessly to Mike Jimenez go on and on about Angelica’s charm. Just what he didn’t need right now, he thought. From the moment her door had closed last night, he had wished he’d called her back.…
“… And you two certainly make a good team,” Jimenez continued. “You three, I should say. You’ve got yourself a cute little guy there.”
Dan shifted restlessly in his chair. “I know.”
&nbs
p; “I’ve never been to a negotiation with a baby before. You know, you and Angelica have to be one of the most extraordinary business stories—”
“Mike, what about the programmers?” he interrupted, wishing he had never called the man on several contract details.
“The programmers? Oh, they’ll be sending up those changes for your people to see.”
“Diana will have to see them, too,” Dan reminded him.
“Of course. After all, it’s a courtesy to run them by the game’s inventor.”
Dan was about to make a comment when his intercom buzzed. Surprised that his secretary would interrupt him on an important phone call, he hesitated for a moment, then said, “Hang on a minute, Mike.”
“Sure, sure.”
He put Mike on hold and pressed the winking button.
His secretary instantly said, “I’m sorry, but a girl is insisting that she talk to you about the baby. She sounds … not like a nut. I don’t know. I wasn’t sure what to do.…”
“It’s not Angelica?” he asked, his stomach starting to churn as he wondered frantically if something were wrong with Patrick.
“No, sir. A Jane Smith.”
The name was a shock of lightning bolting through him, freezing him to the spot.
“I’ll take it,” he forced himself to say. “Tell Mike Jimenez something has come up, and I’ll get back to him.”
“Right.”
He pressed another button and a young female voice came on the line. “Took your stupid secretary long enough.”
At the hard brash tone, Dan was instantly reminded of Angelica’s description of the girl. Suddenly, he realized he had no idea what had been said between this girl and Angelica. Dammit, he thought. He’d been too angry even to ask.
“Can I help you?” he said neutrally.
“Well, now. I was talking to your wife yesterday … about my baby. I guess you know that.”
He could feel the hairs on his neck rise instantly. “Yes, I’m aware of the meeting.”
“Well, I kinda got scared the way she kept talkin’ about my having to sign the papers from the state. I couldn’t take care of my baby no more, see? So I tried to give him a good home, but I didn’t know things would get all messed up.…”
Her voice trailed off, and Dan frantically wondered where the girl was heading.
“See, I wanna do what’s right for my baby, like I told your wife. About signing those papers from the state to make it legal and all. Well, I wanna do that now. But babies … they cost a lot. I … if I just sign the papers … well, I’m not gonna get any money, am I? The state isn’t gonna pay me nothing. I gave him to you, ya know. I wanted you to have him.”
“I understand completely,” Dan said, forcibly holding back his anger.
“I thought so. I’ll be glad to sign those papers … after. See, I really need a lot—”
“How much?” he interrupted, gripping the receiver tightly.
“Do I need?”
“Yes.”
“$10,000.”
The creature was incredible, he thought numbly. Streetwise and greedy, Angelica had said. And knowing when to bargain hard, he added.
“Now you see why I can’t sign unless I have some money. Do ya think you can help me out?”
“I think I might,” he said, his mind racing.
“Now that’s real nice of you,” Jane Smith said. “I thought you and I would get along. I really want to do the right thing, like I said. And I really do want to sign those papers, like I said. But I need the money first.”
“Yes.” She kept mentioning papers, he thought, so he asked, “Shall I bring the papers?”
“Your wife said I had to see some lady and sign them!” the girl exclaimed. “Now you’re saying I can—”
“My wife is a lawyer,” he broke in, hearing the anger and panic in her voice. Wrong move, he thought wildly. “If she said you have to see someone, then you must have to. She would know. I really don’t.”
He heard the girl mutter a vulgar curse, then she said, “Well, okay. But I’m not signing anything until I get that money. You come this time and alone. You bring anybody and I won’t be there.”
“How will I know you?”
“I’ll know you,” the girl said. “Just stand under the Third Avenue exit sign at King Street Station. Two hours is enough time for a rich guy like you to get the money.”
“Yes—”
“Two hours.” The phone clicked off abruptly.
Two hours later, Dan stood impatiently underneath the Third Avenue exit sign. In his breast pocket was an envelope filled with a special kind of money. Traceable money.
Not quite what the girl had wanted, he mused, studiously ignoring the young man bouncing happily by with his blaring portable radio. The punk music was loud and very natural, he thought gratefully, as the young man stopped a short distance away. He only hoped the girl thought so too. From his position against the wall under the Third Avenue sign, Dan watched people of all shapes and sizes flow in and out of the station. His muscles tightened at the sight of every young woman. He’d been here for a few minutes and none had stopped so far.
He had been forced to recognize the dilemma Angelica had faced yesterday, when the girl had requested to meet her alone. He had been hurt that she hadn’t told him, and he’d been scared, too, that she might have run into trouble, but she’d had very little choice. None, really. It had taken a tremendous effort for him not to follow the girl’s instructions to the letter, he admitted ruefully. In fact, he had wasted quite a few minutes arguing himself into informing Martha of the latest phone call. Things had moved swiftly after that, fortunately. Even now, seeing the young officer he had spoken with earlier playing his part to perfection did little to relieve the anxiety skittering along his nerves. The truth was, he felt as if he had made a horrible mistake by calling in the authorities. He could easily understand now that Angelica had done what she thought was best, and he could no longer fault her.
He owed her one large apology. He had known it last night, when he had gone to bed with just his pride. The only person who didn’t understand trust was himself. He hoped he could repair the damage with her when he got home.
He cleared his throat nervously and adjusted his glasses, wondering what she would say when she found out where he had been. There hadn’t been time to call her and tell her the latest news. Oh, well, he thought, in dry amusement. It would be her turn to freeze him out. But only for a—
“You’re Roberts.”
The voice that startled him out of his thoughts was the one that had been etched in his brain two hours ago. Attached to it was a dark-haired girl in a cheap scrubby jacket and jeans. Her eyes were hard and wary.
“Yes,” he said, staring at her and trying to memorize her features. If anything went wrong …
“I’m Jane Smith. You got the money?”
He nodded and reached into the breast pocket of his suit. He removed the envelope and tried not to look beyond the girl to the man with the radio. He handed it to her.
She seemed ready to dart away at the least movement, but she did open the envelope’s flap and glance inside.
“It all better be here,” she said harshly.
“It is,” he assured her. He frantically tried to keep her talking to signal to the police that this was the girl. “Will you go to State Social and Health Services now and sign the papers?”
The girl smiled and stuffed the envelope into the waistband of her jeans. The man with the radio was moving toward them, finally. But he seemed to be in slow motion. In horror, Dan realized the girl was calmly walking away from him as if she’d never stopped in the first place. Another few steps and she would melt into the crowd.
He reached out automatically and grabbed her wrist tightly. He could feel her bones under her skin. The girl squawked once, then everyone around them seemed to explode into action. Before he could blink, people were shoving him away into the wall and spinning the girl around. Handcuffs wer
e clamped on her wrists and her rights were being read to her.
Dan shook his head to clear it and straightened away from the wall. A tall black woman, dressed conspicuously in a leopard skirt and purple tights, was already leading Jane Smith away. A “bum” and the young man with the radio followed behind. Jane Smith suddenly jerked away from the policewoman and turned around. She glared at him for a long moment.
And then she laughed triumphantly.
The hairs on Dan’s neck rose and some instinct inside him instantly knew something was very wrong. A vision of Angelica and Patrick alone and unprotected raced through his mind.
He uttered a barnyard curse and ran for his car.
As the gray sky deteriorated into late afternoon drizzle, Angelica walked away from her suite window with Patrick in her arms. She had been showing him Mount Rainier. Not that Patrick noticed the extinct volcano as much as he did the raindrops coursing down the window, she thought. Still, the view was stunning from twenty stories up.
“Wait until the fall,” she said to the baby. “Then you can watch it rain every day until summer comes again. You’ll like trying to catch the raindrops.”
As she set the infant into his rockerseat, she wondered if Dan would be working late at Starlight tonight. She wondered if he would even call her to tell her that.
If he didn’t, then she would call him. She’d go down there. She had to get her decision out before she exploded with it. Her musings were interrupted when she heard a faint knocking on Dan’s suite door.
“Don’t bother to get up, Patrick,” she said, buckling the seat strap. “I’ll just answer that, shall I?”
She walked through Dan’s bedroom, trying not to glance at the bed they had shared, and on into the other sitting room. The knock came again, louder this time.
“Yes?”
“Room service,” a muffled voice called through the door.
“Room service?” she muttered in puzzlement. She opened the door to find a red-jacketed waiter standing behind a linen-covered table. “I didn’t—”
That was as far as she got. The waiter shoved the table straight into her, and she was knocked off her feet. She landed with a hard thump on the floor as the table careened wildly past her. She gasped for breath in speechless shock.
