"Thank you Meg." Erin reached over to grasp her hand. Meg felt the puffiness of her fingers.
"When did your fingers start getting so puffy?"
Erin raised her hand to look at it. "Just in the last few days. My feet have been puffy too. The only shoes I can wear are my flip-flops. Good thing it's summer."
"It could just be the heat," Emily offered. "And the humidity. It can make even non-pregnant people swell. This has been one of the hottest Augusts on record."
"That's true." Meg smiled at Erin. The last thing she wanted to do was alarm her. "Your grandmother's probably right, but just to be on the safe side, why don't you talk to your doctor about your headaches and the swelling?"
"Well, suppose I make an appointment to see him a little earlier than I planned. Would that make you happy?"
Meg smiled as she patted the girl's hand. "That would make me very happy."
The conversation turned to the evening's party and the gifts Erin had received, but Meg couldn't quite get rid of the niggling worry that had invaded her thoughts. Her son's pregnant girlfriend looked the picture of health, but what if there really was something wrong?
As Erin left for home with her grandmother, the girl's headache seemed to have passed. Meg chastised herself for being a silly worrywart. Still, she decided to keep a close eye on her till the end of her pregnancy.
* * * *
A few days later Meg taped the teddy bear stencil on the wall of the baby's room, and then measured to be sure she'd secured it at the right height. She applied the acrylic paint with a soft brush. When that teddy was finished, she moved her stencil and went on to the next one. Erin had wanted a border of brightly colored teddy bears to surround the room and match the ones she'd painted on the bookcase. Meg had offered to do it for her because she didn't want her on a ladder, and also because she loved doing things like this. She loved painting and decorating, and finding old things that she could turn into her own personal works of art. Besides, this was for her grandchild. Meg grinned, and shook her head. Did being a grandmother mean she was old? She rejected the idea. It just meant she was going to be young enough to enjoy her grandchild for a very long time.
"Meg, hi, I didn't know you were here."
The sound of Zane's voice surprised her and her foot slipped on the ladder. He came over to steady her.
"Whoa. Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He smiled up into her face, one hand securely holding her waist and the other on her leg. Meg was acutely aware of his hands touching her, and her breathing became a little erratic. For one moment, she wished she had the right to climb down from the ladder and walk straight into Zane's arms. But wishing for the impossible only brought heartache. She climbed down the ladder and stayed safely out of his reach.
"I didn't mean to intrude in your home. I volunteered to paint the teddy bears and Erin let me in before she and Tom went to a movie. She said you had a business meeting tonight." If she'd known he'd be home so early, she never would've come. Being around Zane Martin only made her long for things she couldn't have.
He pulled at his silk tie and unfastened the top button of his shirt. "It got cancelled at the last minute. And for the record you're not intruding. You're welcome here anytime."
Meg once more found herself mesmerized by the intense light in his blue eyes. With an effort she pulled her gaze away from his and looked at the teddy bears. "I really should get back to work. I'm almost done."
"The room looks really nice. You've done a great job."
His praise made her feel ridiculously happy. "Thanks."
Zane leaned against the doorframe while she repositioned her ladder. "I never wanted Erin to have a baby this young, but now that she's pregnant I can't wait to see my grandchild in this room."
"I know what you mean. I feel exactly the same way." Meg climbed the ladder and moved the stencil to the next spot. "I enjoyed meeting your mother the other day. She's very nice."
"She had good things to say about you, too."
"Does she come to visit very often?"
"Whenever she can. She runs her own business, a hairdressing salon, so she puts in some long hours. She had to leave the day after the shower because she had clients to look after."
"Make sure you let me know the next time she's in Winnipeg. I'd love to see her."
"I will." He hesitated for a moment. "Listen, I want to thank you for being so kind to Erin. She tells me you've been teaching her to cook."
She dabbed her brush in the paint and then took off the excess on a soft cloth. "There's no reason to thank me. I enjoy spending time with Erin."
"Still, I know your attention means a lot to her." He took off his suit jacket and slung it over one shoulder. "So the kids went to a movie?"
Meg leaned forward to reach a spot with her brush. "Yeah."
"I'm glad. They should be doing fun stuff kids their age do. They've had a rough time of it these last few months, mostly because of me."
She turned to look at him. He really was a nice man. But he could be so hard on himself at times. What quirk in his personality made him believe he was always to blame for the things that happened?
"It's a difficult situation, Zane. Don't get down on yourself because you've had a hard time adjusting. Besides, I think that in some ways you've been remarkably fair. You've never once blamed Erin or made her feel bad for getting pregnant. You've stood beside her and I know that means the world to her."
It would have meant the world to her as well. If her father had just once taken her in his arms and told her he still loved her, she wouldn't have felt like such a failure and a disappointment.
Zane looked down at his shoes. "I love my daughter." He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. "No matter what happens nothing will ever change that."
"Erin's a very lucky girl."
The corner of Zane's mouth turned up in a smile. "I hope so. Look, I've got a couple of steaks defrosting in the fridge and if Erin's out, I wouldn't want one of them to go to waste. Why don't you have dinner with me?"
Meg's gaze darted around the room as she tried to think of an excuse. Having dinner alone together in his house just seemed so intimate. At least a restaurant meal would include plenty of other people, and no upstairs bedrooms. She blushed and turned her face away at the thought.
"I need to finish this border. It will take a while yet."
"No problem. I need to shower and by the time I grill the steaks, you'll probably be done."
"Zane, I don't know if it's such a good idea."
"I won't touch you, Meg. I promise." His face was set in serious lines and she knew he meant every word. If Zane Martin promised something you could be certain he'd carry through.
"Besides," he added with a grin, "I just had the piano tuned. How will I know if it's been done properly if you don't try it out?"
Meg couldn't help the answering smile that tugged at her lips. What was it about this man that made her want to be with him, even against her own better judgment?
"I like my steak medium rare," she said.
A smile blossomed on his face that made him look young and carefree and so incredibly handsome that it took her breath away. She had no right to feel this wanting, this need. She turned her attention back to her work. "If we're going to eat before midnight, maybe you should get started."
She heard his laugh. "I'm on it."
He left the room and a moment later she heard the shower running in the bath down the hall. The sound was excruciating. Meg's head filled with images of hot, steamy water sliding down Zane's lean, muscular, naked body. With a force of will, she shifted all her concentration to her painting project and within thirty minutes the teddy bear border was completed.
She cleaned her brushes downstairs in the laundry room sink and, after putting the stepladder back in the garage, retrieved her purse from the front hall. In the powder room off the kitchen she washed up and brushed her hair. She found some makeup in her purse and applied lipstick to lips much too willing
to smile back at her in the mirror, and a bit of color to eyes that sparkled with anticipation. What was the matter with her? After removing the old paint spattered shirt she'd worn over her t-shirt, she opened the powder room door, took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen.
Zane was tossing a salad in a wooden bowl as she entered. "Perfect timing," he said with a smile. "Everything's ready. I've set the table in the dining room."
Meg followed him into the dining room, stopping momentarily on the threshold when she saw the romantic mood he'd created. Two place settings were laid close together, the light of the candles sparkling off the fine china and crystal and giving the room a warm glow.
"This is a bit elaborate for a Tuesday evening, isn't it?" she asked.
Zane set the salad bowl on the table. "It's not every day I have company for dinner. I thought I'd break out the good dishes for a change."
Meg took her seat, hoping his casual remark was true, and that he didn't harbor any illusions about their relationship. "You know this is just dinner, right?"
"Yes Meg, I know this is just dinner. Now, would you like salad?"
To Meg's surprise they had an enjoyable meal. They talked about the kids and their soon to be born grandchild, as well as current events, music, food and a host of other subjects. Zane was smart, well informed, and though somewhat opinionated at times, fair in his beliefs. Not once did he make a move to touch her, or make any kind of inappropriate comment. Meg relaxed and enjoyed the meal and the company. She was beginning to see that he was someone she could count on to keep his promises.
"Why don't I put these dishes in the dishwasher while you go nimble your fingers on the piano? I won't be long."
"You did all the cooking. I'll help you clean up."
"No." He steered her gently by the shoulders towards the door. "You worked at the restaurant all day and then painted all evening. You deserve a little free time to have some fun."
"Well, okay, if you're sure." It was a novel experience to have someone cook for her and clean up as well. "Do you have any special requests?"
"I can't think of anything. There's some sheet music in the piano bench that you can look at. Knock yourself out."
"Thanks. I will."
Meg made her way through the house to the music room. The moment she opened the French doors and saw the baby grand once more, her heart began to pound in her chest. It was such a beautiful instrument. If she had a piano like this, she'd play it everyday.
She sat down at the keyboard and began to play some warm-up exercises. Her fingers felt rusty as she ran through her repertoire of chords. The sound of each note rang perfect and true. Whoever tuned the baby grand definitely knew his stuff.
After a few moments she got up from the bench and lifted the lid to see what was inside. The bench contained several books of sheet music, some of a classical variety, but mostly popular music of the nineteen eighties and early nineties. Meg lifted one book that featured all the music from Grease. Another folder included the big number from the movie Footloose. The piano bench was like a time capsule, capturing the music from that era. She took out another book that held the top ten hits of 1988. The dog-eared book had obviously been well loved and used. On the front cover in bold script, Anna Sloane Martin had written her name and the date: December 25, 1988. Perhaps it had been a Christmas present, maybe from Zane. She imagined he kept Anna's songbooks for sentimental reasons.
"Did you find anything you liked?"
Meg dropped the book into the bench, feeling inexplicably guilty. "Well, there's lots of stuff here. I was just going through it."
Zane lifted the book she'd just dropped and flipped through it. She watched his face for any sign of distress or remembrance, but all she saw was mild inquiry.
"Most of this stuff is pretty old. I think Erin bought a couple of newer music books, but she was never really into playing music, just listening to it at maximum volume."
Meg pulled a book of classic music from the pile and found a Beethoven piece she liked. "I never played much popular music when I was young. It was mostly classical pieces and church music. This is one of my favorites."
She set the music on the stand and after closing the lid, sat at the piano bench once more. As she played the opening notes of "Moonlight Sonata", she smiled. The haunting melody always made her think of lovers stealing away for a clandestine rendezvous. Their meeting place was somewhere in a deep, dark forest, the only light from the full moon. She waited for him in the cold, damp woods, frightened lest her absence be detected. Finally he was there, as beautiful and dark as the night sky, his eyes shining with love for her. They made love under the stars, but had to hurry away, for this was a love that could never be.
She played the last note and sat motionless with her hands poised above the keys. Music with great emotion always affected her, always made her feel too much. Zane put a hand on her shoulder.
"Where do you go when you play that?"
Meg looked up at him in surprise, and a little embarrassment. She had no idea her feelings were so easy for him to read. "My own little world, I guess. The music is so emotional, it can't help but make a person feel something."
He smiled and removed his hand. "I think it's quite a gift. Some people are good musicians, at least technically, but you also have the ability to feel the music and to put what you feel into your playing."
"Thank you." Meg was floored at his perception. There was so much more to this man than she'd imagined.
They stared at one another for a long while, and for a moment she thought he might make a move to touch her again. She knew that if he did she wouldn't stop him. But he stepped away from her and took a seat in a chair across the room. "Why don't you play something else?" he said.
Meg complied willingly. She played from memory some of the études she'd played years ago when studying for her Royal Conservatory exams. They came back to her as if she'd learned them yesterday. She had played them and many others on the Evans's piano in the intervening years, but she'd always been rushed, having little free time and also having to share the piano with Jane and Chris, to whom she'd given lessons. Having this beautiful piano all to herself was pure heaven.
A short while later Tom pushed open the French doors to the music room and he and Erin entered hand in hand. "I should've known you'd find the piano in here, Mom. You're sounding really good."
"Good? She's amazing," said Erin, looking at Meg in awe. "How did you learn to play like that?"
"Lots and lots of practice," Meg replied with a grin. She looked critically at the girl for a moment and noted the paler than usual skin and the tired eyes. "Are you feeling all right, honey?"
Tom put a protective arm around her. "Erin felt tired so we skipped the pizza with our friends and came home. I'm just going to help her upstairs."
"Do you have a headache again?" Meg asked.
"A little," Erin confessed, and hastened to add, "It's not too bad."
"Did you talk to your doctor?"
"Yes. I've got an appointment to see him the day after tomorrow."
Meg got to her feet and gave the girl a hug. "That's good. You go on up to bed and have a nice rest. I'll come over tomorrow afternoon and if you're feeling up to it, we'll do some more cooking, okay?"
Erin smiled but she could see that it was an effort for her. "Okay."
She kissed Meg and Zane goodnight, and then went with Tom, his arm around her waist supporting her. Zane turned to Meg as soon as they were out of earshot. "When did she start getting headaches?"
"I don't know, but she had one the other night after the baby shower. It's probably nothing, just tiredness."
Zane's brow wrinkled in concern. "Maybe."
"I know she's young and healthy, but I'll feel a lot better after her doctor checks her out."
"So will I." He gave her the briefest of smiles. "I'll feel even better when the baby arrives, safe and sound."
A short while later, she and Tom went home, but Meg couldn't sh
ake her feeling of unease. She'd be very sure to keep her date with Erin tomorrow afternoon.
* * * *
The next afternoon Meg left the restaurant as soon as the lunch crowd thinned out and arrived at Zane's house around two o'clock. She rang the doorbell once, then twice, with no response. She thought it odd for Erin to leave the house when she knew Meg planned to come over. The same unease she'd felt the night before came back. Had something happened?
She rang the bell one more time without any success and then tried the doorknob. To her surprise it turned easily in her hand. As she stepped inside, all the air rushed out of her lungs. Erin, dressed in her robe and slippers, lay unconscious on the tile floor of the foyer with newspaper scattered around her. With a cry of horror, Meg went to her, running her hands over her pale face and calling her name. She quickly removed her cardigan and placed it beneath Erin's head as a makeshift pillow. Meg felt the girl's wrist for a pulse and nearly wept with relief when she found a strong, but rapid pulse.
"Erin, honey, can you hear me?"
Blonde lashes flickered as her eyelids opened halfway and then focused on her. "Meg? I fell. I went to get the newspaper and then I fell."
Questions raced through her mind. How long had Erin been lying on the hard, stone floor? What had caused her to faint like this? Was the baby all right?
Erin's eyelids began to close. Meg spoke to her again. "Don't worry, honey. I'm going to get you some help. Everything's going to be okay."
She rushed into the kitchen to find a phone, her hands shaking violently as she dialed 911. She could barely speak when the dispatcher came on the line.
"Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?"
"My son's girlfriend has fainted. I don't know what's wrong with her. She seems to be slipping in and out of consciousness." A sob escaped from her lips. "She's about seven and half months pregnant."
"What is your address?" the dispatcher asked calmly.
"We're at her father's house." For a second her memory went totally blank, and she couldn't recall the address. Panic threatened to unhinge her. She had to take a deep breath to stay calm. "It's 111 Grenfell, in Tuxedo."
A Long Way From Eden Page 9
