The Sassy One

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The Sassy One Page 24

by Susan Mallery


  Francesca stroked her bright red curls. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “Me, too.”

  “We’ll take it easy today. Just relax and hang out. Tomorrow, if you feel up to it, you can go to class. In the afternoon I’ll need to stop by my adviser’s office for about a half hour. Otherwise, I have no plans for the week.”

  Kelly smiled. “I like the idea of hanging out today. Maybe we can use the DVD player in the family room, seeing as I don’t have one up here.”

  “That’s right. How sad. Imagine having to go through life without your very own DVD player. Maybe you could write UNICEF and ask for one. Oh, wait. They’re busy feeding starving children in poor countries.”

  Kelly swatted away her hand. “I get it. I’m a spoiled brat who doesn’t appreciate all she has.”

  “Something like that.”

  Kelly grinned. “Okay. I’ll stop complaining about the DVD player.”

  “I would if I were you.” Francesca sat up. “I have to call your dad.”

  “No way! I don’t want him knowing.”

  “It won’t be a surprise to him. Sam’s been around women before, and he completely understands the process.”

  “But he’s my dad. Telling him is completely sick.”

  “Getting your period is a natural part of life. Kelly, he has to know what had you upset this morning.”

  The preteen sighed heavily. “All right, but I don’t want to talk to him about it. Ever. I mean that.”

  “Fair enough. Why don’t you sort through your movie collection, and I’ll talk to him.”

  Francesca had to wait on hold for a couple of minutes, then she heard Sam’s chocolate-on-velvet voice.

  “So what was the crisis?”

  “Kelly got her period. It was her first one and it freaked her out, which is completely understandable. Plus, she wasn’t prepared with supplies, and she was too embarrassed to tell you.”

  “That was it?” Sam asked. “Her period?”

  Francesca frowned. “It’s a big deal. Girls have a lot of ambivalence about the whole concept of growing up. This is physical proof things are never going to be the same again. Plus, it’s not like a guy’s first wet dream. There’s no pleasure and usually a lot of pain.”

  “Whatever. She can’t hide out every time she has a problem. Look, I’m in a meeting and I have to get back to it. Thanks for letting me know what’s up. I’ll deal with it when I get home tonight. Bye.”

  He hung up. Francesca stared at the phone. “Whatever?” she repeated, more than a little outraged. “That’s your entire response to this incredibly significant event in your daughter’s life? And now you’re going to deal with it? I don’t think so.”

  Kelly walked into the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

  Francesca set down the phone and smiled. “Absolutely,” she lied cheerfully. There was no point in upsetting Kelly. Not when the poor kid wasn’t feeling well. Francesca would make sure to corner Sam before he could talk to Kelly. Somehow she would make him see that he had to give his daughter a break and show a little more sensitivity.

  • • •

  Sam could feel another headache coming on. They were a regular occurrence ever since Kelly had appeared in his life. He ignored the wine rack on the counter and went right to the hard stuff. After collecting a glass, he headed for the wet bar and opened a bottle of single malt scotch.

  “I’m not kidding, Sam,” Francesca said as she followed him. “You are completely in the wrong. This is a female thing and you can’t possibly understand. You’re going to have to believe me.”

  He drank half the contents of his glass in two swallows. The liquid burned its way to his belly.

  “She could have told me.”

  “No, she couldn’t. She was embarrassed and scared. You try waking up to blood everywhere and we’ll see how you react.”

  He wasn’t comfortable with the visual image, so he ignored it. “She locked me out of her room, she wouldn’t come out, and she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”

  “With a good reason.”

  “I’m her father.”

  “You’re a stranger. It’s been what—a month? That’s not enough time to get to know each other.” She leaned against the bar. “You haven’t even decided if you like having her around.”

  “Sometimes I don’t,” Sam admitted. He crossed to the sofa and sat down. “Sometimes…” He shrugged.

  Francesca perched on the edge of the club chair and leaned toward him. “Give her a break on this.”

  “She was wrong to lock me out of her room. This weekend I’m taking the lock out.”

  “Fine, but don’t be in a snit when you do it.”

  He looked at her. “Why are you taking her side? I thought you were on my team.”

  “I’m a neutral third party.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. “Francesca, I’ve had a hell of a day. I have clients in from out of town, I was worried about Kelly all morning only to find out she’d fussed about nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing to her.”

  He wasn’t convinced. “I just want to spend a quiet evening. No fighting, no misunderstandings, no lectures. Is that too much to ask? We could order in, you could stay for dinner, then for breakfast.” He smiled.

  She didn’t smile back. “You’re missing the entire point. Kelly had a hard day, too. She needs to be cuddled and pampered. She needs to feel special. She needs you to understand. Right now she has to be the most important thing in your life.”

  He swallowed the rest of his drink. “Why the hell not? She’s ruining it anyway.”

  Francesca rose and glared at him. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  His guilt was faster than her accusation. “I know. I didn’t mean it.” He hadn’t. It was just he didn’t understand Kelly. Every time he thought he had her figured out, he found out he couldn’t be more wrong. He cared about her; he just wished she wasn’t so frustrating.

  “Get to know her, Sam. Make some effort to spend some time with her.”

  “I do.”

  “Not enough. You don’t understand her, and that’s why this isn’t going smoothly. You’re the adult in the relationship. Maybe you should act like it.”

  With that, she turned and walked out of the room. Seconds later the front door slammed.

  Sam leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Looked like he wouldn’t be getting any tonight. His morning had started badly, and his evening wasn’t showing signs of improvement.

  He heard a noise from upstairs. Kelly.

  Get to know her, Francesca had said. He was. Sort of. He’d taken her to work the previous day. Okay, she’d spent most of her time with Jason, but still…

  “Hell,” he muttered and set down his glass. Francesca was right. Again.

  He walked upstairs and knocked on Kelly’s door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  He opened the door and found her curled up on her bed, reading.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked.

  She eyed him warily. “Fine. I know Francesca told you and everything, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Thank God. “What do you want to do?”

  She shrugged.

  Great. That was helpful. He thought about what he used to do with his grandfather when he’d been Kelly’s age and it had been a cold, rainy day. He smiled.

  “Ever play chess?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Could you be more boring?”

  “Probably not, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

  She sighed. “No, and I don’t want to learn.”

  “Too bad. Because if you were to win a game, I’d get you a DVD player.”

  Her eyes widened. “No way.”

  “Way, kid.”

  She dropped the book. “Just one game.”

  “That’s all it would take.”

  She scrambled off the bed. “Show me the way.”

  • • •

 
“You have to tell him, Francesca.”

  Francesca curled up on her small sofa and watched her mother pace the length of her living room.

  “I will.”

  “When?” Her mother stopped and faced her. “Your grandfather has already started threatening to contact Sam himself. You don’t want that to happen.”

  Francesca had to agree. Having Sam told about the baby and threatened in the same sentence would probably send him into heart failure.

  “Lorenzo is expecting an engagement out of all this.”

  Francesca straightened and set her feet on the ground. “It’s not his decision to make.”

  Her mother walked to the sofa and sat next to her. “Don’t you love Sam?”

  Admitting to her mother that she’d slept with a man she didn’t love wasn’t her idea of a good time. “It’s not that.” Not exactly. She hadn’t loved him at first. But now… now she was pregnant, confused, and a liar.

  “Then what?”

  “Sam isn’t the marrying kind.”

  “When they fall in love, they all are.”

  But that was the thing. Sam didn’t love her, and she… well, she didn’t know what she felt about him. Was wanting to be with him all the time love? Was adoring him and his daughter and imaging a future together enough?

  “We both agreed the relationship would be casual,” she said at last and held her breath.

  Her mother only looked mildly disapproving. “I see.”

  “It’s just, I don’t want to be married,” Francesca blurted out, then groaned. “At least I didn’t use to.”

  “Because of Todd?”

  “Partly. Because I was never sure of myself.” She thought of the conversation she’d had with Brenna last week. About it being time to let go of the past. “I’ve never felt capable before. Confident. Growing up, I was the stupid Marcelli sister. With Todd, I was arm candy. I don’t want that.”

  “Do you think if you love a man you’re going to lose yourself?”

  “I used to.”

  “And now?”

  Now everything in her life was a mess. Sam, Kelly, the pregnancy. “I don’t know anymore.”

  Her mother cupped her chin and looked into her eyes. “Francesca, whatever you and Sam decide about your future, he must know about the baby.”

  “I’m going to tell him.”

  “When?”

  “Friday. No matter what. The new nanny starts Monday. Friday is the last day I have Kelly.”

  Her mother shook her head. “Don’t wait any longer. You weren’t raised to be a deceptive person.”

  Francesca winced. The statement was perilously close to the “I raised you better than this” complaint that always made her feel about six years old.

  Her mother dropped her hand to her lap. “One more thing. Whatever you do about Sam, do it because it’s what you want, not because of what other people say. Not even me.”

  Francesca knew she was thinking about her decision to give up Joe for adoption. “I will.”

  “Promise, Francesca. Promise to follow your heart. Even if you’re afraid. There is no greater regret in life than not having tried. Believe me. I’ve lived with that one for thirty years.”

  Francesca hugged her mother close. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be. You’ve done nothing wrong. Not yet. I’ll hold off your grandfather until Friday, but no longer.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Although she had no idea what she was going to say. Telling Sam about the baby was one thing, but telling him about her heart… she wasn’t sure what she wanted. Somehow life without him didn’t seem as appealing as it once had. She liked being with him, talking to him. She liked Kelly. But Sam was a man who didn’t forgive lies. Would he understand why she’d waited to tell him about the baby, or would he see her as little more than yet another woman who had set out to deceive him?

  • • •

  Francesca’s second unexpected visitor arrived shortly after nine the following morning. She opened the door to find Sam standing there.

  He wore one of his power suits and looked good enough to appear in a calendar. Her heart gave a little flutter, her chest tightened, and her thighs went up in flames. If she didn’t know better, she would think she had malaria. Or that she’d fallen in love.

  She stepped back to let him into her apartment, then closed the door behind him.

  “You were really mad at me last night,” he said by way of greeting.

  “That’s true.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “So I was wondering if you were still going to pick Kelly up from her dance class.”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Then she got it. “Just because you and I were fighting doesn’t mean I’m going to duck out of my responsibilities.”

  “I know.” He looked at her. “I’m sorry. You were right.”

  She stared at him. “About?”

  “Kelly, her getting her period. That I didn’t get it. I see now that it’s a big deal for girls.”

  Francesca felt more amused than vindicated. “You’ve been reading your teenage parenting books.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “Maybe.” He straightened. “Kelly and I had a long talk last night. About her life here, and how things are different. About getting to know each other better. We’re each going to write down a list of our expectations and how we’d like the family to run. Then we’re going to talk about them and negotiate. We’ve set up a meeting for Saturday morning. Kelly suggested you be there to mediate and I agree.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Francesca told him honestly. She was thrilled that Sam was willing to meet his daughter halfway and get to know her. She was touched that they both wanted her to be a part of the family meeting. She was terrified to think how things could be between them, come Saturday.

  “As Kelly pointed out last night, you’re as much a part of the family as either of us. Maybe not by blood, but certainly by time and effort.”

  She desperately wanted to agree, but didn’t feel she had the right.

  He pulled his hands out of his pockets and moved closer. “I know this isn’t what we agreed to,” he murmured as he brushed her mouth with his. “It’s a lot more messy and complicated, but is that such a bad thing?”

  “I d-don’t know.”

  It was impossible for her to be rational while he was kissing her. Her mind went fuzzy, her body surrendered, and all she wanted was to take Sam to bed.

  He nipped her lower lip. “Well, think about it,” he said as he released her and moved toward the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  And then he was gone. Francesca leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. She didn’t mind messy or complicated. Not if things turned out well in the end. But would they? Time was ticking. Come Friday, where would she and Sam be?

  • • •

  “How are you feeling?” Francesca asked that afternoon as she and Kelly drove away from the ballet school.

  “Better. No cramps, but the bleeding is still too incredibly gross for words. Oh, and I’m not bloated anymore, so that’s something.” Kelly pulled out the pins holding her hair back and fluffed her curls. “You said you had to see your adviser this afternoon, right?”

  “Yeah. If it’s okay with you, I thought we’d stop and see her first, then head out to a café I know by the beach afterward.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They chatted about movies and fall fashions until Francesca drove onto the university grounds.

  “It’s really big,” Kelly said, looking around.

  “Have you been on campus before?”

  “No. I didn’t know it would be so pretty.”

  Francesca pointed out several buildings, then parked close to the psychology labs. “My adviser has an office in here.”

  “We aren’t going to see anything icky, are we?” Kelly asked as she climbed out of the car. “No cats with wires in their heads or anything?”


  “Not even close,” Francesca said as she stepped onto the pavement. “We torture people here. Not animals.”

  Kelly grinned. “Good.”

  They walked along the pathway toward the double doors.

  “So what do you do here?” Kelly asked. “You’re like still in college, but how is grad school different?”

  “I already have a bachelor’s degree,” Francesca explained. “Do you know what that is?”

  “Uh-huh. It takes like four years, right?”

  “Yup. After that people can come back for more education. I’m in program where I’ll get both a master’s degree and a Ph.D. In fact, I’m supposed to be writing the paper for my master’s right now.”

  “You just turn it in and get a grade?”

  “I wish,” Francesca said, leading the way down the long corridor. “But there’s a little more to it than that.”

  She briefly explained about research projects, committee approval, distilling data, and coming up with a topic.

  Kelly’s eyes widened. “You could be going to school forever.”

  “I hope not. I plan to have a life of my own eventually.”

  “But you have to be willing to make a big commitment.”

  “I agree. Some people have trouble with that, but getting my Ph.D. is really important to me. When you want to be good at something, you have to be willing to work hard.”

  “Like my dance,” Kelly said as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

  “Exactly.”

  They walked to the end of the hallway, then entered the main lab. A reception area fronted several observation rooms. The offices were on the left.

  An older woman sat behind the front desk. She smiled when she saw Francesca.

  “You’ve been avoiding us,” Marg Overton said with a grin. “I want to think you’ve been home typing your fingers to the bone, but somehow I doubt that.”

  “Not even close,” Francesca agreed. “Marge, this is Kelly. Kelly, Marg. While there’s a department head in charge, Marg actually runs this place. We’d be lost without her.”

  “Of course you would,” Marg agreed.

 

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