They finally said their goodbyes and Zane heard the front door closing. A moment later it opened again and Tommy came back into the living room. He stood close to Zane's chair and looked down at his daughter.
"I don't remember my Mom going out much all the time I was growing up. I asked her about it when I got older, and she'd just say she was too busy just trying to keep her head above water to be worrying about dating. She's been alone for a long time. She deserves some happiness." He shuffled from foot to foot for a moment, turning his woolen hat around in his hands. "Well, that's all I have to say. Have a good evening."
"You too."
After Tom left, Zane stared at the football game on TV for a while, but turned it off when he realized he didn't even know who was playing. He mulled over Tom's parting words. It was almost as if the young man was giving him the okay to date his mother. He knew Tom was protective of his mother and his approval meant a lot to Zane. He looked down into little Anna's face. She stared back at him with big, dark, solemn eyes.
"Well Sweet Pea, I can hardly wait to see your Grandma. The question is, will she be glad to see me?"
* * * *
Meg pulled a couple of bags filled with food from the restaurant out of the back seat of her car. By the time she crossed the street to Zane's house, he was at the door waiting for her.
"Hi," she said. "How did you know I was here?"
"The whole neighborhood knows you're here. I could hear that old clunker of yours coming from a mile away."
Meg's pride bruised a little at his words. She lifted her chin at a defiant angle. "Not everybody can afford the kind of car you drive, Zane. The rest of us peasants have to make do with something a little less flashy."
He sighed and shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry, Meg. I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just concerned about the safety of that car of yours. Would you let me look it over? I've got a friend who's a terrific mechanic. He can make sure that it doesn't leave you stranded on the side of the road."
Her first inclination was to say a polite but firm no. She already knew the old Pontiac's tires were bald and that it burned almost as much oil as it did gas. For better or worse, the Pontiac belonged to her, bought and paid for by her own sweat and blood. But then she looked into Zane's eyes and realized that he really was worried about her. The idea that anyone other than her adoptive family cared about her safety totally floored her.
"I guess it would be okay," she said. "But if any repairs need to be made, I pay for them."
He looked as if he wanted to argue, but eventually nodded. "Okay. I'll set up an appointment for sometime next week." He shook his head and ran his hand through his dark hair. "Why are we standing here arguing on the front step? Come inside. It's cold out here."
Meg handed her bags to Zane before hanging her coat in the hall closet. "Where's Anna?"
"I just put her in her crib. She fell asleep after she had her bottle."
"Would you mind if I peeked in on her?"
"Of course not. Just don't wake her up."
Meg grinned. "Would I do that? What kind of irresponsible grandparent would that make me?"
Zane tried to look stern; Meg saw the smile he attempted to hide. "The kind who wants to play with her granddaughter."
"Okay, I promise, just a quick peek. You can even come with me to make sure I don't try any funny business."
They climbed the stairs and quietly pushed open the door to Anna's nursery. Zane turned on a small lamp that illuminated the room in a soft glow of light. Meg leaned over the crib rail, the urge to touch the petal soft skin of Anna's cheek almost making her break her promise not to wake her. A fierce emotion welled up inside her, one that she hadn't felt since Tommy's birth. She'd do anything for this child, anything at all.
"She's so beautiful," she whispered. "So beautiful and so perfect."
Zane stood next to her, surprising her by putting his arm around her shoulders. "She looks just like you."
It pleased Meg that he saw a resemblance. "Do you really think so?"
His head bent closer to hers. "Absolutely."
She stared into his eyes as his face slowly grew nearer to hers. Her limbs began to tremble as she waited for his kiss, not in fear or apprehension, but in excitement. If he kissed her now she'd welcome it. Zane wasn't anything like Paul.
Zane abruptly stopped his descent towards her and dropped his arm from her shoulder. He looked away, as if disgusted with himself, then composed his face and smiled for her.
"Why don't we check out those bags you brought?"
Meg nodded, lowering her head to hide the disappointment she felt. Maybe she'd misread Zane. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
Back in the kitchen, Meg unpacked a container of lasagna, the fixings for a salad that only needed to be tossed with the dressing she'd made, and a couple of slices of apple pie.
"I just need to reheat the lasagna and toss the salad. It shouldn't take long."
"It looks great. I'll set the table in the dining room. With any luck, we'll get through dinner before Anna wakes up."
Meg slid the lasagna into the oven before tossing the salad.
Zane came back into the kitchen with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. "I hope you like the wine. The guy at the store said it had great legs and a delicate nose."
Meg laughed. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know. It either describes something about the wine or the guy's last girlfriend. I was afraid to ask."
She laughed again. She loved when Zane was playful like this. He took life so seriously most of the time that it was wonderful to see him in a more light-hearted mood.
Soon everything was ready and Meg carried the lasagna into the dining room and set it onto a trivet.
Zane inhaled deeply. "That smells terrific. Did you make it?"
"I helped Chris with it, but he did most of it. He makes a mean lasagna."
Zane dished himself a generous portion of the lasagna. "I've tasted your pies. You're a pretty terrific cook yourself."
Meg made a little bow and smiled. "Well, thank you, I appreciate that. But I learned everything I know about baking from Maria. She was so patient about teaching me. Trust me, a lot of innocent lemons bit the dust before I finally got it right."
"The Evans have been very good to you and Tommy, haven't they?"
"Yes, they have." She felt a little lump constrict her throat. "I don't know if we would have made it without them."
Zane gave her hand a brief squeeze. "You're a strong woman, Meg. You would've found a way."
She wasn't so sure of that. "Anyway, Maria taught me to bake, and Joe taught me about managing a restaurant and keeping the finances in order. Chris is only really interested in the food preparation part of the business. Jane just finished a course in hotel and restaurant management. Eventually she'll probably move to a large hotel chain. She says she'd like to travel. Chris may want his own restaurant some day where he can serve more complex, avant-garde dishes. The fare at Joe's Diner is pretty traditional."
Zane dug into his meal. "Have you ever thought about owning your own restaurant? Sounds like you've learned all the skills."
The thought had never occurred to her. She shook her head. "It wouldn't be the same without the rest of the family."
"You're very loyal." His eyes pinned her to her chair with their intensity. "It's something I admire in you very much."
Meg's breath caught in her throat. Their gazes locked across the table and she could almost see the electric current arcing between them. The passion she saw in his face frightened her. She didn't know if she had any right to feel the things she did for this man, or to encourage the same feelings from him. She looked down at her half eaten dinner.
"It's more about being afraid of being on my own then being loyal. For a long time Joe and Maria and the restaurant were the only secure things in my life."
"I think you underestimate yourself." He pushed his empty plate away. "Look, there's something I need to tell you
."
Meg set aside her own plate, a feeling of apprehension in her stomach. "What is it?"
"I've decided that I want to meet my father. I'm still angry that my mother was deceived, and sad that we never got a chance to be a family. But I need to meet him. I have to know what kind of man my father is."
"I understand." She reached for his hand and he held it tightly.
"I want you to come with me."
She could only stare at him a moment, stunned. "I... I don't know. Maybe it would be best if you met your father for the first time on your own."
Zane sighed and briefly closed his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this on my own. I need someone with me I can trust."
Meg felt an immediate rush of shame. She wasn't the trustworthy, loyal person he'd made her out to be. She had no right to want to move their relationship in the direction a trip like that would take them. Yet she felt deeply honored that he trusted her with one of the most important questions of his life.
"Let me think about it," she said.
He nodded, but Meg thought she detected a note of disappointment in his eyes. "I understand."
A high-pitched wail sounded through the baby monitor. Meg smiled. "Well, at least she waited until we finished the main course. I guess it was too much to ask to let us have dessert." She noted the anxiety on Zane's face and understood that he couldn't stand to hear her cry. "Why don't you check on Anna and I'll make some coffee? When she's changed bring her down here and we'll have dessert."
Zane gave her a relieved smile and got to his feet. "Okay."
Meg made coffee, tidied the kitchen and dining room and put the dishes in the dishwasher and Zane still hadn't brought Anna downstairs. She went up the stairs to find him, thinking that he might be having a problem with the diapers.
When she got to Anna's room the sight that greeted her made her heart beat a little faster in her chest. Zane held the baby in his arms and crooned an off-key lullaby to her, love radiating from his face. Anna looked up at him, her gaze intently focused on him, totally content in her grandfather's arms.
Hope, combined with intense longing, swept through Meg. If Anna trusted him, maybe she could too. He was strong enough to face his past, and yet tender enough to sooth a child's fears. Zane had a wonderful heart and a huge capacity for love. Any child of his would be very much loved.
She closed her eyes and for a moment could almost feel a baby in her arms, a baby she and Zane had created.
The thought jolted her from her reverie. She knew she could trust Zane not to hurt her, but she didn't know if she could give herself to him physically, or emotionally. All her old fears rose to haunt her with memories of the past.
"Hey, there you are," Zane said with a smile. "Come here, I want to show you something."
Meg walked towards them on trembling legs and knelt beside the rocking chair. "What is it?"
"Look into this little girl's face. See those eyes? Those are your eyes. She's going to have big brown eyes and beautiful dark hair just like you. Even her skin is like yours, so fair it seems that you can almost see through it. She's going to be as beautiful as her grandmother. I only hope she's as beautiful as you are on the inside."
Meg averted her eyes, afraid to let him see how his words had affected her. She held Anna's little hand, needing to steady herself and her emotions. Finally she was able to speak. "I'd like to come with you to meet your father, if you still want me to."
He kissed the top of her head. "Yeah, I still want you to."
Chapter Eleven
Zane picked up the telephone receiver, began to dial, and then slammed it back into place. He moved to the window and stared out his hotel room to the panoramic view of downtown Vancouver. A gray mist hung in the air, creating a wet sheen on the pavement below. He knew that outside the damp would feel cold and penetrate straight through to the bone. Give him the honest cold of a Winnipeg winter any time.
This was ridiculous. He needed to call his father to set up a time for a meeting. He'd come too far to back out now.
Once more he dialed the number he'd looked up in directory assistance. This time he made himself complete the number and hang on to the phone. It ran once, then twice, three times. Finally on the fourth ring a woman answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello." Zane cleared his throat. "May I speak to Clayton McPhillips please?"
The woman hesitated a moment before answering. "Can I tell him who's calling?"
"It's Zane Martin."
There was a long pause and for a moment Zane thought she'd hung up. Finally, he heard a sigh and she said, "I always knew you'd call one day. I'll get Clayton."
There was a loud click as the receiver landed on a hard surface and another long pause. He could hear muffled voices in the background but couldn't make out any words. His palm grew sweaty as it grasped the handset, his heart beating a rhythm in sync with the tune running around in his head: I'm going to talk to my father, I'm going to talk to my father.
Finally someone picked up the phone. "Hello? This is Clayton McPhillips."
For a moment Zane felt too overcome with emotion to say anything. This was his father, the man who'd given him life. He sounded old and frail, his voice weak. Somehow he'd never thought of his father as being old.
"This is Zane Martin. My mother..." He swallowed and gathered his scattered thoughts. "My mother recently told me about you. I'd like to meet you, if that's possible."
Zane held his breath, fearing his father's rejection. Clayton answered without hesitation. "Yes, I'd like that very much. Are you here, in Vancouver?"
"Yes."
"Can you come this afternoon, around three?"
His heart beat faster. "Around three? That would be fine."
"I look forward to it." Clayton sounded genuinely pleased. He gave him his address and directions to his house. "I'm so glad you called."
"So am I." Zane swallowed around a lump of emotion. "I'll see you this afternoon."
He carefully placed the handset back on the cradle and noted that his hand shook slightly. In just a few hours he would meet his father.
His first instinct was to go to the room next door and tell Meg the news. He glanced at his watch. It was just after ten a.m. and he wondered if she was awake. They'd arrived in Vancouver late the night before and he knew she'd been exhausted after working all day at the restaurant. She'd also been excited about her first airplane trip. He smiled when he thought of the look on her face as she boarded the plane. He wished he could give her a lifetime of firsts.
Zane pocketed the keycard to his room and went out into the hallway, stopping in front of the room next to his. He knocked softly on the door, not wanting to wake Meg if she still slept. She answered almost immediately.
"Yes?"
"It's Zane. I just talked to my father."
He heard the metal security bolt clank as she hurriedly opened the door. She ushered him inside the room. Her hair was still wet from her shower and she wore the fluffy white terry cloth bathrobe provided by the hotel. The robe ended mid-calf, but when she moved, it opened slightly to offer him a tantalizing view of a long, sleek thigh. He looked into her freshly scrubbed face. She had no idea how beautiful she was.
The look on her face was cautious. "What did he say?"
"He wants to see me at three o'clock this afternoon."
Relief blossomed on her face. "Oh Zane. That's wonderful. I'm really happy for you." She hugged him, laughing. "It's all going to work out fine."
Zane tightened his arms around her, nuzzling his face against her damp hair and breathing in her clean, fresh scent. He'd like nothing better than to pick her up right now and carry her to the bed. He'd untie the robe to reveal all the beautiful pale skin beneath. He wanted to kiss her, to make love to her. But he couldn't. He wouldn't push himself on her again. If they ever made love, it would be because she initiated it and wanted him as much as he wanted her. Zane reluctantly dropped his arms from around her waist.
&
nbsp; "Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Sure." She touched her hair. "Just give me a few minutes to dry my hair and get dressed. I'll knock on your door when I'm ready."
"Let's go for a drive after we eat," Zane said, suddenly feeling restless. He'd rented a car at the airport the night before. "I don't think I could just sit around the hotel till three."
"That's fine. You can show me around Vancouver. I've never been here before."
He nodded, glad that she'd decided to come. He didn't think he could bear the wait on his own. "I'll show you Granville Island. We'll find someplace there to have lunch."
"Sounds good," she said as he opened the door. She touched his arm as he was leaving. "I really am happy for you, Zane."
He knew she meant it, and it made him smile. He hadn't had a woman, other than his mother, on his side in a long time. It felt wonderful knowing that she cared. He just wished she could feel more.
* * * *
They found Clayton McPhillips' house without any problem. It was a bungalow sided half in stucco and half in chocolate brown clapboard. It was neat and tidy, with nothing to distinguish it from all the other 1960s era homes in the Burnaby neighborhood. Nothing except for the fact that his father lived there.
Despite the chill in the air, Zane's palms felt sweaty as he and Meg made their way up the front walk. He rang the doorbell and grasped Meg's hand, needing her reassurance.
She smiled and squeezed his hand.
A moment later the door opened and a dark-haired man about his own age stood in front of them. He gave them a welcoming smile and extended his hand. "You must be Zane."
He clasped his hand in firm shake. "Yes, I'm Zane Martin. This is my friend Meg Evans."
"I'm really glad to meet both of you. I'm Nathan McPhillips." He hesitated a moment and then smiled shyly. "I'm your half-brother."
Zane felt all the air rush out of his lungs. His mother had told him her sister had had a baby. He'd been so focused on meeting his father that he'd forgotten about Clayton's other child. His brother.
Nathan continued, seeming to understand. "I know, it was a shock to me too when my father told me about you and your mother a few months ago." He swept out an arm to usher them inside the house. "Why don't you come inside? I know you're anxious to meet Dad, but I need to talk to you first, if you don't mind."
A Long Way From Eden Page 14
