by Meryl Sawyer
"Do we have to?" Jason asked and Puni backed him up with a few disgruntled chirps.
"Yes. I need you to help me with the barbecue. We're making hamburgers, remember?"
Dripping wet, Jason emerged. Garth, taking care not to knock Puni off Jason's shoulder, draped him in an oversized towel that hung on him like a choir robe. The bird fluttered his wings. Droplets of water sprayed across Garth's face and dappled his polo shirt. He toweled off Jason, conscious of the child's questioning eyes on him.
"Am I going to live here now?" Jason asked.
Vanessa had already explained to Jason that they'd be living with Dana as soon as the beds were delivered. She'd told him that they wouldn't be returning to Kau Ranch, yet Jason kept asking questions. Obviously the child was upset.
"You'll be staying with Aunt Dana, remember? But you'll visit me… all the time," Garth said, hearing his own insecurity in his voice. He hoped he was going to be part of Vanessa and Jason's lives, but he wasn't sure.
Jason crawled into Garth's lap and snuggled against his chest. Yes, there were advantages to being in a wheelchair. You had a lap available at all times. Obviously Jason needed the security of being held. The boy had been ignored by the man he believed was his father and prodded into being "a man" by his real father. Naturally he responded to someone who held him and told him stories.
His thumb now in his mouth, Jason closed his eyes. Puni was nodding off too, his head bobbing. Garth thought he heard the bird say, "Sue!"
"So adorable," Garth muttered as he gazed down at Jason. He couldn't help himself. He kissed Jason's damp head, breathing in the fresh scent of soap and feeling the moist heat of the child's body.
For a moment he indulged himself, cuddling the boy closer and wishing Jason was his son. He lifted his head and caught their reflection in the mirror, a sleeping child with his parrot and a man holding him as if he was the most precious thing in the world.
A movement in the side mirror distracted him. Vanessa. How long had she been there? She silently walked across the marble floor and put her hand on his shoulder. "Let's put him down for his nap."
They put Jason to bed and Puni in his cage, then sat on the lanai overlooking the pool and the ocean. The trades were strong, as they often were in the late afternoon, blowing a cooling breeze in from the sea.
"I don't know how to thank you," Vanessa said.
"Forget it," he said. She'd thanked him dozens of times already. What was there left to say? Stay here with me.
Vanessa leaned toward him, her expression serious. "I've been thinking… Jason seems so happy here." She paused, her eyes dropping to her lap where her hands were clasped together. "You're very good with him."
His pulse kicked up a beat. What was she getting at? "He's a great kid."
Her eyes met his. "What about me?" she asked, her voice low, full of emotion.
She had to know how he felt about her, didn't she? Maybe not. She'd told him about being raped and that Eric had married her only to make his father happy. Despite being drop-dead gorgeous, Vanessa was insecure. He could understand how she felt. His astonishing success at law didn't make him confident when he was outside the courtroom.
"You're fantastic." Now it was his turn to pause; he didn't know exactly what to say. "I'm hoping that we can see each other even after you've moved in with Dana."
Vanessa touched his arm. Her slim fingers, crowned by those sexy nails, curved around his biceps.
"I'd like to see you… without Jason," she said.
"Don't move out," he heard himself say.
"We barely know each other." She scooted closer, her hand still on his arm, squeezing slightly now.
Maybe asking her to stay wasn't such a good idea after all. She was grateful to him, sure, but she didn't feel the same way he did.
"I'd like to try," she said, her voice charged with emotion, "but I'm afraid that I'll let you down. You see, I was… I mean, I wasn't much of a wife. No wonder Eric went back to his girlfriend."
"Why not?" he asked, already suspecting what the answer might be.
"I kept thinking about Hank Rawlins," she said, confirming his suspicions. She'd told him about the rape. Not getting help hadn't made the problem go away. "I hate having sex."
"We'll take it a step at a time. Baby steps. First I want you to see a counselor. You need to talk out your feelings with a professional."
"You're right," she agreed with a slight smile. "I should have done it long ago. Pretending it never happened didn't work."
He looked out at the sea, a shimmering mirror in the late-afternoon sun. A disturbing thought hit him like a punch to his gut. Did she find him attractive because he was in a wheelchair? Did she see him as less threatening with his disability? That was even worse than pitying him, trying to help him all the time.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
He faced her again, admitting to himself just how much he wanted this to work, yet accepting that the odds against their relationship were tremendous. "Just because I'm in a wheelchair doesn't mean I can't have sex."
"I know," she said. "That's why I'm afraid I'll disappoint you."
Relief swept through him so sharp and hard that he had to suck in his breath for a second to let the ache in his chest ease. "You won't disappoint me. We'll have to work together. Making love to someone with a handicap isn't the same as what you're—" The smile that lit her face stopped him. "What's wrong?"
"You've never even kissed me, and here we are discussing sex."
"I can fix that." He pulled her close and touched his lips to hers, holding himself in check. He longed to hug her tight and kiss her the way he'd wanted to kiss her for days now, but he needed to be gentle. Her eyes were closed, the lashes thick and silky. Her soft lips were parted against his.
Suddenly her arms were around his neck and her mouth was pressed against his. She kissed him with a hunger that matched his own. For the first time he let himself hope that their relationship might have a chance. For the first time he allowed himself to dream of a life beyond his career.
"Garth." The word came out like a sigh. She rested her head on his shoulder and breathed a kiss into the sensitive curve of his neck.
They sat on the lanai, cuddling and kissing until Garth heard a noise from inside the house. Vanessa sat up straight and listened.
"Sue the bastards! Sue the bastards! Sue their asses!"
She looked at him and smiled, her lips still moist from kissing. "They're ba-a-a-ack!"
27
Molly was waiting at the door for Dana, purring as loud as a lawn mower and swishing her tail. Dana reached down and gave her a loving pat.
"At least someone's glad to see me."
The afternoon had been utterly humiliating. She still felt the hot flush of embarrassment and the tightness in her chest that she'd experienced as she'd completed scheduling the arraignments. Every eye seemed to be on her. Accusing her. Condemning her.
News about the review had spread around the courthouse in a heartbeat. The attorneys cast suspicious looks at her, not bothering to disguise their contempt. She knew she had a reputation for being a tough judge, but she thought she had people's respect. She told herself that she didn't care, but that wasn't really true. Is this what Rob went through— every day? Knowing looks? Hushed whispers?
She'd dropped by Garth's house after work to see her sister and tell them about the judicial review, Garth had insisted she was overreacting, claiming people did like and respect her. Well, he hadn't been there.
"Garth's too wrapped up in Vanessa and Jason to really know what's going on," she told Molly as the kitty trotted into the kitchen, leading the way to her bowl. "And Vanessa's crazy about him too."
Any fool could see those two were falling in love, Dana thought with a sigh. Vanessa had announced that she wouldn't be moving in with Dana. "It'll give Jason time to adjust," her sister had said, but Dana knew better. Vanessa was concerned about Jason, but that was just an excuse to stay with Garth and
slowly test their relationship.
Dana put the sack of groceries she'd picked up at the all-night market on the counter. "Not a bad idea, really. It happened so fast."
Molly ignored Dana's chatter, circling her bowl impatiently.
Dana reached into the bag and brought out a can of Fancy Feast. "No more of the dreaded cottage cheese. I've got five different kinds of cat food. Let's try this one first."
She popped the lid, and the overpowering aroma of fish filled the air, making Dana gag, but Molly didn't care. As soon as Dana emptied the can, the cat did a face plant in her bowl. Dana leaned back against the counter, watching Molly gobble, recalling what Garth had told her at dinner.
"Stonewall it during the review," Garth had instructed. "See what they have to say. I'll bet it's nothing more than a lot of hot air."
"Stonewall it." She tossed the can in the recycling basket. "Easier said than done."
Too exhausted to work, Dana went into the bedroom. The phone rang as she was undressing. It was just after eleven, which was late for anyone to be calling. She grabbed the receiver, thinking it had to be Rob, but it wasn't.
"Sorry to call so late, but I was worried about you," Gwen said. "I hear Binkley has called for a judicial review. Why?"
"Garth Bradford says this is just an attempt to discredit me so I won't get that appointment."
"You consulted Garth? You can't bring a lawyer into the review. You have to go in alone."
How well she knew that. Dana dreaded facing the review by herself. If she could have anyone with her, she'd want Rob. "Garth invited me to dinner, and I asked him what he thought."
"Oh. That's smart," Gwen said. "I guess he told you about getting the inquiry letter that came this afternoon."
"What letter?" Dana sank down onto the bed. Now what?
"Whenever there's a review the presiding judge has to send letters to the legal community to see if there are additional complaints."
"Oh, yes. I remember," Dana responded. What would her peers say about her, she wondered with a growing sense of apprehension.
"Don't worry about the inquiry letter," Gwen said. "The review will be over before anyone sifts through their mail and finds the letter."
Dana didn't challenge her friend. No doubt Gwen was being supportive, but Dana remembered the condemning glares she'd received that afternoon. She had enemies—more than she'd imagined— who'd respond to the inquiry letter.
"Don't be upset."
"I'm not," Dana assured her with a lot more confidence than she actually felt. "I just want to get this farce over with."
"It'll be easy, you'll see." Gwen tried to be reassuring, but failed. "I heard that you have a new secretary."
"Yes," Dana said, recalling the scene she'd had with the stubborn personnel director that afternoon. "I put up with all I could. They can't fire Anita until she's had a hearing, so they've transferred her. I'm getting someone new tomorrow."
"Good for you," Gwen said. "Well, it's late. I'd better go. Good luck with the review. Stop by my chambers when it's over."
Dana hung up, flopped back on her bed, and closed her eyes, telling herself that she'd get up in a minute and change into a nightgown. An image of Lillian weeding her garden appeared in her mind, then one of Jason marching around Garth's house with Puni on his shoulder. Yes. There were more important things in her life than her career.
She heard a faint noise, a distant sound with a hollow echo. Dana sat up and realized she'd fallen asleep and Molly had curled up beside her. The noise sounded a second time, seeming sharper now in the empty house. The doorbell, she realized, and quickly glanced at the alarm clock. Not yet midnight. Who would be at her door at this hour? Had the Panama Jack's rapist been arrested yet?
"Forget the rapist. It could be the blackmailer," she whispered to Molly, who was now awake. "They don't make house calls, do they?"
She tiptoed to the front door with Molly at her heels, wishing she'd bought another can of pepper spray. She'd left the lights on in the living room, but thankfully the curtains were drawn. Whoever was outside couldn't see in.
The mokes, she thought with a shudder. Rob insisted they'd gotten what they wanted and she was safe. She knew if he'd thought she was in any danger he would never have left.
Peering out the tiny peephole, she gasped and jumped back. "Oh, my God," she muttered half under her breath. No one in their right mind would open a door to this guy. A moke would be an improvement over this weirdo.
She almost dialed 911, but decided to take another peek. A boy about fifteen stood at her door. He was about six feet tall and had a series of small gold hoops in his ear, not in the lobe but halfway up like a punk rock star. It looked as if someone had put a bowl over his head and buzz-cut the hair below so you could see his white scalp. The longer hair on top had been dyed an iridescent maroon.
Heavens! Had someone put a curse on him? She drew back, realizing that there was something familiar about him. Cautiously she put her eye to the peephole just as he hit the doorbell again. The blast of noise in the empty house rang a bell in her mind. Rob. This boy was a younger, punked-out version of Rob Tagett. It had to be his son, but how did he know about her? How had he gotten her address? "Who is it?" she called to confirm his identity.
"Zach Tagett. I want to talk to you."
She swung open the door and tried to keep her expression calm, as if weirdos rang her bell every day. Backpack slung over one shoulder, Zach walked in with the same athletic stride she associated with Rob. Molly took one look at the boy, crouched low, arched her back, and hissed.
Dana said, "I guess you know who I am or you wouldn't be here."
"Yeah," he said, and she instantly knew that he didn't like her. Great! Here she was counting on her personal life to pull her through this crisis, and Rob's son hated her on sight.
"Isn't it a little late to be out?" Oh, God. She sounded like an uptight parent, but she didn't know what else to say.
"I had to sneak out of the hotel while Mom was asleep," Zach admitted, and she realized he'd inherited his father's talent for being disarmingly honest. He shifted the backpack to the other shoulder, his deep blue eyes—his father's eyes—staring at her. "Leave Dad alone. He and Mom are getting together again. We're moving back here."
She wasn't certain how to respond. Just what had Rob told Zach about her? "I'm sure your father explained—"
"Yeah, all he does is talk and talk and talk." Zach dropped to his knees and held out his hand to Molly. The cat gingerly approached.
"How did you find me?"
"Dad told me about you. When I got here I called the courthouse. Your secretary gave me your address."
Anger welled up inside her with such astonishing swiftness that she held to struggle to hide it from Zach, not wanting him to think she was upset with him. She was furious with Anita. Her secretary knew better than to give anyone her address. What if Zach had been a dangerous felon with a grudge against her?
She smiled to herself. Now the haughty personnel director couldn't deny that Anita deserved to be fired. Civil-service employee or not, the woman was a menace.
"Look," she said as gently as possible, "I didn't come between your parents. Your father and I only became… involved recently."
"Mom and Dad are getting back together."
His tone was petulant like a child's, and Dana realized that was just what he was. A child in a man's body. But the question remained: Was this reconciliation real or Zach's wishful thinking? Rob hadn't mentioned anything about his wife coming to Hawaii with his son.
"My father doesn't care about you," he said as he patted Molly. "He doesn't care about anyone."
She was stunned by his impudent attitude, but refused to show it. "Your father called me after he saw you in L.A. He's terribly worried about you. He loves you very much."
"Yeah, right." He shrugged, making a show of not caring. He didn't fool Dana. "I didn't do nuthin'. Some guy gave me those pills, but I wasn't going to take them. Then
Mom goes and makes a big deal out of it."
She'd seen more than her share of youthful offenders who'd begun with pills they claimed they never were going to take, but she resisted the urge to lecture him. "You'll have a fresh start here."
"Yeah." He wandered across the room, stopped in front of the bookcase, and pulled out a Stephen King book. "I read this. Way cool."
She walked over to him and took The Stand off the shelf. "I think this one's better. Why don't you take it with you?"
He accepted the book with a curt nod that again reminded her of Rob when he didn't know what to say.
"Call me when you finish it," she said, "and we'll discuss it."
His shocked expression almost made her smile. Evidently he wasn't accustomed to an adult wanting his opinion on a book. It made her wonder about his relationship with his mother, reinforcing her belief that he'd be better off with Rob.
"How did you get here?" she asked to fill the awkward silence.
"Hitched."
She almost gasped. The young were fearless. Terrible things happened to other people—not to them. A corner of her mind always warned her that bad things do happen to good people. She'd learned that I the night her parents had been killed.
"I'll drive you back to your hotel," she said.
She drove him to the Waikiki Surf, chattering nonstop about things teenagers did in the islands. Zach listened intently, but said little.
He got out of the car, muttering, "Thanks."
Dana watched him disappear into the lobby. Would he ever accept her? Would she even get the chance, or would Rob go back to his ex-wife?
She drove away, quickly checking her rearview mirror to be certain she wasn't being followed. There were very few cars on the street at this hour. The only noise was the throbbing beat of the music coming from the popular night spot Panama Jack's. Her doors were already locked, but she doublechecked them anyway, recalling that the rapist got his name for following women as they left the nightclub.
Back home she wearily opened the door and heard the phone ringing. She dashed across the room, tripping over Molly, who'd stationed herself on the throw rug, and grabbed the telephone.
