Judy stayed through the next day, but that afternoon she packed her belongings and left after dinner. "I'll be back in the morning," Judy promised.
True to her word, Judy, concerned about Cathryn's being alone, stopped by to check on her the next morning and every morning after that.
"You can't tell me Drew Sedgwick has been nothing but a good influence on you," Judy chided. "This business of skipping breakfast is disastrous." And with that, Judy invaded Cathryn's kitchen, dredging up a griddle and frying pan and juicer, and prepared a breakfast so big that the two of them could hardly eat it all.
"It's pure selfishness on my part," Judy said whenever Cathryn protested against all the fuss. "I like my coffee, and you would be back there in that office of yours working on who knows what if I didn't brew a big pot for us to linger over."
"You're not only spoiling me, but you're also making me lazy," Cathryn said on Thursday morning as she and Judy loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. She was still wearing her most comfortable bathrobe, and her hair hung loosely down her back. She hadn't worn makeup for days.
"You deserve to be lazy," Judy insisted.
"I've had several impatient calls from my client—the architect—who wants to know why there's a heap of plaster on the floor of his office."
"Yes, but admit it, this is the first time off you've had in months."
"Except for weekends at the beach house with Drew," said Cathryn, running those weekends through her mind like a video. Looking back on them, they seemed like such a carefree time. She and Drew had enjoyed each other's company, but at the expense of her work. Now that her refurbishing of the architect's office was running so far behind schedule, and after a few anxious inquiring phone calls from Mrs. Smead on Barton Avenue, she was beginning to wish that she'd spent more time at her studio.
"Well," Judy said, looking around the neat kitchen, "I'll see you tomorrow. Amanda's out of school now, so I'll bring her along. She's been clamoring to see you ever since the accident."
"Good. It'll be fun having her here," Cathryn said as she walked Judy to the door.
After Judy left, Cathryn pulled up figures on her laptop, although it was hard to concentrate when she was waiting for the phone to ring. Drew's daily phone call had become the very pivot of her existence. She had not known, she reflected unhappily as she shuffled papers from one side of her desk to the other, putting off any real work, that she could miss anyone as much as she missed Drew.
The phone rang and she grabbed it. It wasn't Drew; it was her assistant, Rita.
"Another phone call from Mrs. Brattigan," she said. "She wants to know how soon you can get over there and do something about all that green. She says she can't live in the house without it making her sick, and she wants to choose the new colors right away so she can leave for Newport."
Cathryn pinched the skin above her nose with a thumb and forefinger. "Tell Zohra to drop whatever she's doing and to get over there tomorrow to smooth Mrs. B's ruffled feathers. And Rita, make sure everyone at the studio knows that I'll be working full time as soon as possible," she said, feeling guilty about the many days that she'd stayed out of the office. "I'll be another week or so at the most, I should think."
Rita sounded relieved, and after a few words of encouragement, she hung up. Cathryn sat brooding for a moment. She'd always been proud of finishing jobs close to the target date, despite problems with upholsterers and suppliers and furniture shipments that never arrived on time. She didn't want to develop a reputation for being undependable.
With a sigh, she went to her drawing board and, working quickly, mapped out a recreation room for the Barton Avenue house. Becoming absorbed in her task, she soon discovered there was space for a pool table in the room after all. She'd have one specially fitted with orange baize instead of the usual golf-course green. Orange was Mr. Smead's favorite color.
When Drew finally phoned, the conversation was kept short by Selby's constant calls for attention. It was just as well, Cathryn thought. She couldn't have maintained the deception that all was well with her any longer. By now she was always biting her lip to keep from blurting out the truth.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"Fine," she told him.
"Almost finished with the architect's office? Does he like those textured blinds you found for the big windows in his reception room?"
"Loves them," she said.
"Not as much as I love you," he shot back.
Cathryn didn't speak. She couldn't force words past the lump in her throat. She should have come up with some pert rejoinder, should have made some sound of agreement. She yearned to tell him that she loved him, but she wasn't able to. She seemed to be sinking into some sort of post-accident depression and growing more lethargic every day.
The silence lengthened, became obvious. I've got to think of something to say, she thought desperately. Something funny, something silly, something that will make him think everything is all right. Only she couldn't think of a thing.
Then Selby laughed in the background and spoke to Drew, and he covered the mouthpiece with his hand. Cathryn heard him say, "What is it, Button?" and heard a giggle from Selby.
Drew was laughing when he spoke again. "Well, Cathryn, I think I'd better hang up and find out what this little rascal here has done to my shoelaces. Looks like she's tied them together, or am I mistaken?"
Cathryn let out a sigh of relief. "I'll see you soon," she said quickly. Too quickly?
"Day after tomorrow," Drew said. "I can hardly wait."
"I can hardly wait myself," said Cathryn, much too pensively.
Another silence, and then they said goodbye, a bit awkwardly, she thought. When they hung up, there was an emptiness that cried out to be filled.
* * *
In New York, Drew sat thinking for a long moment after they'd finished their conversation. Something was wrong. He was sure of it. Those silences, Cathryn's lack of response at times when, before, he could almost have predicted what she was going to say. She was keeping something from him, he was certain.
He couldn't wait until the day after tomorrow to see her. It was too long. But he and Selby had planned a museum outing today, and Selby had been looking forward to it.
Worried, he consulted his phone contact list for the number of the airline on which he and Selby were scheduled to fly back to Palm Beach. Surely they would have an earlier flight he could take. If something were indeed wrong, he would at least know about it, he reasoned, and if not, wouldn't it be terrific to surprise her?
* * *
The next morning Judy and Amanda arrived with the good news that Cathryn's Jaguar had been repaired, and in record time, too.
"We stopped by the garage with Daddy before we came here," Amanda announced importantly, "and I could hardly even tell the car had been in an accident."
"Let's make a batch of blueberry pancakes to celebrate," suggested Judy. She produced a container of fresh blueberries from a shopping bag, and they assembled the mixing bowls and ingredients that they would need.
Cathryn was tediously picking over the freshly washed blueberries when the doorbell rang.
Judy, who was helping Amanda measure flour for the batter, looked up in surprise and said, "Are you expecting anyone?"
"No, and Turney hasn't called." Cathryn knew for a fact that the unreliable intercom was working this morning because the doorman had used it less than half an hour before to announce Judy and Amanda. There was only one person who had ever managed to get past her doorman, and that was Drew. But she knew better than to expect him today. He wasn't due back in town until tomorrow.
"I'll go," said Judy, leaving the flour to Amanda, who had somehow managed to smudge some on her nose.
Cathryn set the blueberries aside and wiped her damp hands on a towel. She glanced at the clock. It was only nine-thirty, early by Palm Beach standards.
She heard Judy unlatch the door, and she thought, too late, that she should have warned Judy to put the c
hain on.
Just as she reached the foyer, the door burst open and Cathryn was startled to see Drew, his hair disheveled, his clothes rumpled.
For a moment time hung suspended, the world stopped, and there might have been no one else but the two of them in the room.
"Thank God you're all right," he said before striding across the floor and crushing her in his arms.
Chapter 11
Cathryn buried her face against his neck, scarcely daring to believe that it really was Drew. Strong muscles in his arms flexed and convulsed so that she could barely breathe. The musky male scent of him and the feeling of him pressed close to her dispelled the yearning that had been building up inside her for the past week. She clung to him joyfully, whispering his name over and over, and he raised his hand to frame her face, pulling back so that he could search first her eyes, then her expression.
His gaze took in the gauze bandage even as his hands slid down her arms as though to reassure himself that she was whole. His eyes returned to hers, burning blue and intense.
"You weren't due home until tomorrow," she said shakily. He looked tired, and purple half-moons under his eyes told her that he hadn't had much sleep. He hadn't shaved recently, either, and as his mouth met hers, his rough cheek scraped her skin. It felt wonderful.
He kissed her deeply, longingly, and she trembled in his arms as she felt strong stirrings of desire for him. She craved more kisses, more of him, but she was well aware that Judy stood behind her, looking nonplussed. Amanda stared at them, having left the kitchen to investigate the commotion.
Still in a daze, Cathryn broke their embrace for propriety's sake. "Why are you here?" she asked him, hardly able to speak with the happiness of it. She still couldn't believe it.
Drew held both her hands in his, gripping them tightly. "I had a funny feeling yesterday after we talked. Something about the way you sounded—"
Cathryn remembered.
"It stayed with me," Drew went on rapidly, "and last night I started checking airlines, trying to hop a flight back. The best I could do was to book an early-bird flight, so I grabbed it. And then late last night I remembered I'd promised you to check with Susannah while I was in New York. She answered the phone at her apartment, and when she told me about your accident, I almost went crazy."
"But Susannah didn't know," Cathryn said in a puzzled tone.
"I told her," said Judy. "I called her yesterday. She'd just arrived back in town after taking a trip to Phoenix with Avery."
"Cathryn, if I hadn't caught a cab from the airport right away, I would have run all the way over here, pulling Selby along with me."
For the first time, Cathryn became conscious of the little girl standing just inside the doorway, self-consciously rubbing one ankle with her other foot and looking even more uncertain than Judy did.
"Come here, Button," said Drew, maintaining his grip on Cathryn's hand and stretching his other hand out to Selby.
Selby didn't want to come at first. She clutched Raggedy Ann in front of her face, peering apprehensively out from behind the red-yarn hair.
"Come on, it's okay." Drew smiled at his daughter. Her anxiety seemed to evaporate as she took a few tentative steps forward.
Instinctively Cathryn knelt down to be on eye level with her.
"Cathryn, this is my daughter, Selby. And Selby, this is my friend, the one who decorated your new room, Cathryn Mulqueen."
Selby regarded Cathryn solemnly. Her eyes shone star-bright. They were blue eyes, like Drew's, but Selby's tended toward the delicate shade of hyacinths. Like her father's, her eyes teamed strikingly with spiked black lashes. Her hair grew as shiny and as black as Drew's. She tipped her heart-shaped face—Talma's face—to one side as she studied Cathryn.
Cathryn smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm glad to meet you," she said.
When no answer seemed forthcoming, Cathryn stood up and looked to Drew for guidance. But he appeared even more tired than before, and he seemed distracted by Cathryn herself, his eyes worriedly assessing the small bandage on Cathryn's temple.
It was clear to Cathryn that Selby was not going to speak and that she probably felt overwhelmed by the strangeness of these new people and this apartment she'd never seen before. Cathryn realized that it would be up to her to steer things along a path that all of them would find comfortable.
Forcing herself to think, she said, "Judy, would you mind fixing all of us one of your wonderful breakfasts?" She saw Drew, the confirmed breakfast-hater, start to demur, so she interjected quickly, "I'm sure it's been a long time since Selby has eaten," and she quieted Drew with a significant look.
At this Selby brightened.
"Are you hungry, Button?" asked Drew.
Selby nodded shyly.
Judy stepped forward with a smile. "I'll bet you love pancakes, don't you, Selby?"
Selby nodded again, her eyes darting curiously to Amanda and taking in the light dusting of flour on Amanda's small pug nose.
"I'm mixing pancake batter," Amanda volunteered. "Maybe you could help."
"I could?" said Selby, her eyes sparkling.
"Of course. Come with me into the kitchen and I'll show you," said Judy. "Would you like that?"
Selby nodded. "My mother never lets me into the kitchen."
Judy smiled. "Well, that's one place where I can always use an extra pair of hands." She held out her hand and Selby offered hers trustingly before the three of them marched off to the kitchen.
"Perhaps you'd like to set Raggedy Ann right here in this chair," they heard Judy saying, "and then maybe you'll be ready for a visit to the bathroom."
"There's soap that smells like strawberries," confided Amanda gleefully. From the half bath off the kitchen they heard Selby's exclamation of delight, followed by a giggle.
"That smells scrumptious," Selby said in her high clear voice.
Drew looked at Cathryn. Cathryn looked at Drew.
"Judy and Amanda have quite a way with Selby," he said. "I don't know that I've ever seen her take to anyone so quickly."
"Selby is beautiful, Drew," said Cathryn. Really, she'd been impressed, and not only with Selby's beauty but by the keen intelligence shining from her eyes.
"Yes. And so are you beautiful. Come over here and sit beside me on the couch. Not so far away. There, that's better. Are you really all right? Honestly?" His anxious eyes swept over her.
Cathryn smiled and touched his face gently with her fingertips, tracing the lines, deeper now, around his eyes. She brushed her lips lightly across his cheek, mostly to reassure herself that he was still there.
"I'm fine. Just a few bruises and this cut on my head. I'll be running again in a day or so."
"When Susannah told me what happened, I thought I'd go berserk. Things began to add up—those long silences on the phone, the way you often changed the subject for no good reason. How could you do this? You should have told me."
"I was afraid you'd worry," she said. "I wanted you to enjoy your time alone with Selby as you'd planned and without having to trouble yourself about me."
"But you needed me. Can you imagine my shock when Susannah told me? I appreciate your unselfishness in allowing me my time with Selby. Only it hurts that you shut me out at a time like this."
"I—I didn't mean to hurt you, Drew." Her eyes filled with tears, and seeing them, Drew put one hand to the back of her head and pulled her forehead to his shoulder.
"Hey, it's all right," he comforted, but he still looked desperately worried.
"You do understand?"
"Of course I do. But when were you going to tell me?"
She lifted her head, met his eyes. "I thought that when you came back, we'd talk on the phone and I could explain. I had no idea you'd come bursting in here unannounced. Although," she hastened to add, curving into the arm he slid around her, "I'm delighted that you did. Drew, I've missed you terribly."
He nuzzled at her throat, exhaling. "I missed you, too."
Her mouth went suddenly dry with her joy at having him so near.
"What I missed most was holding you in my arms, feeling our hearts beating together," he whispered. "Just the way we are now."
"I was so lonely for you," she admitted. "Everything hurt after the accident, and I wanted you more than anything."
"I wish I could have been here for you," he said before capturing her lips in a deep and caring kiss that made up for all the pain and longing she'd suffered. He released her lips to murmur, "Oh, Cathryn, I love you. So much. You have no idea."
"I do so," she said, her whisper like a sigh before her lips found his.
In the kitchen Selby chortled over something, and above the child's high voice she heard Judy's lower one with Amanda chiming in at intervals. Drew cradled Cathryn in his arms, kissed her hair above the bandage, and held her close. These moments alone were theirs and no one else's—not Judy's, not Amanda's and not Selby's.
"Breakfast is ready!" cried an excited Selby from the kitchen. "I flipped the pancakes myself!"
Drew groaned, but only Cathryn could hear. "And this gives me another reason to hate breakfast," he whispered, making Cathryn's mouth curve upward against his.
"Wait until you taste Judy's pancakes," she said, grinning up at him. "They're strictly out of the ordinary."
"I'd rather taste you," he said, his eyes traveling to the vee of her robe where her breasts swelled gently and provocatively. "I can't wait until you give me a proper welcome."
She pulled her robe tighter around her. "Proper? You want proper?"
"Or improper. Either one."
Their mouths joined fleetingly, and Cathryn called out to the kitchen contingent, "We're on our way."
And so the welcome had to wait.
Breakfast was made delightful by the chattering interplay between the two little girls. Then Judy and Amanda said their goodbyes after many promises between Selby and Amanda to see each other soon.
Drew appeared so exhausted at this point that as much as Cathryn wanted him with her and as much as she would have liked to get to know the winsome sprite named Selby, she urged him to go home and take a nap.
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