They’d left Dan’s after one cocktail—a few too few—and took a cab to the Museum of Fine Arts. After opening her door, he escorted her up the walk to the museum lobby. As he walked, he thought there was no way in hell this woman, who held his arm as if she were already walking down the aisle, would be part of his new start in life.
“This is exciting. I’ve been waiting for this exhibit to open. I appreciate you agreeing to accompany me. Do you like Matisse?” she asked in her quiet voice as they stepped to the ticket window.
Though she didn’t realize it, he thought she should have been asking if he knew who Matisse was. It turned out he did, but he didn’t care. Not terribly anyway. And he was far from excited. Come to think of it, if this was Frenchie acting excited, he could lay to rest any thoughts of fireworks in the bedroom. He handed over some bills to the lady behind the glass. He couldn’t help comparing her again to his contemplation of spending the night with Grace.
“Two tickets please,” he said. He forced himself to sound reasonably interested although his heart was not in it. French Maria continued to beam and continued to fuss over his forearm—and continued to look as if she were frowning. The glassed-in woman handed him two tickets and he took them, when his phone rang. He schooled himself not to look happy, but instead made himself scowl, as he should at such an untimely interruption. He told himself he owed complete compliance to whoever was on the other end of that line. He slipped the ever-present cursed-blessing of a phone from his breast pocket.
Chapter 9
“I thought I told you to give us a few minutes,” Mabel scolded. “Oscar, you are as incorrigible now as you were as a child.” She took Grace by the hand and led her and Oscar toward her parlor.
It was a good thing Mabel took over, because Grace couldn’t think what to do or how to think. How could she, with her heart pounding and her mind a sudden jumble? Seeing Oscar, after all these years, and in Mabel’s parlor of all places, made her feel like Dorothy landing in Oz.
“Hello, sweetheart. It’s been a while. But don’t worry, I’ve had your back.”
His words were like tempting thick gravy being poured all over the healthy plate of green beans to make them irresistibly comforting and awful at the same time. She straightened her spine and found herself strong enough to give him a warm smile and mean it after all these years. He looked the same—like a retired NFL offensive lineman—big, intimidating and protective. He walked to the middle of the formal parlor, turned and looked at her.
“How many years?” she asked. She went to his open arms for a hug. It was the hug of a long lost friend because, she realized with a sigh, that was what he was—maybe even a long lost relative. She’d have to think that one over. They ended the embrace and he pushed her to arm’s distance.
“Six years and two months. A very long and desolate six years and two months, during which time I made sure you were always okay. You’ve made me proud, sweetheart,” he said with an extra touch of huskiness. When he swept her into another bear hug, Grace realized he seemed intense, even for Oscar. That worried her.
“What is it, Oscar? Why did you come back now? And where are you back from?” And then she wondered what he meant by “I’ve had your back” and “You made me proud.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about the details.” He laughed and ducked because he knew she’d bop him in the shoulder—which she did. She laughed, missing fond moments from the past.
“Why don’t we sit down and Marsha will bring in the tea.” Mabel took over again. “With Frangelico of course. Just the way you like, Oscar dear.”
Knowing the strength of Oscar’s aura, Grace figured she shouldn’t take any chances about getting sucked back in to the vortex. But standing there in Mabel’s parlor, she realized that she felt only the tug of friendship toward Oscar. All the darkness and doubt that she’d felt about the end of their relationship disappeared as if it were a bad dream she would never have again.
Now that she had David to dream about.
Tears instantly filled her eyes at the thought. She looked down to hide them as she sat next to Oscar. She didn’t need him to worry any more than he obviously already was. She insisted to herself that David would come around. He had to give them a chance at romance. He was a reasonable man. She would give him a reason.
She wasn’t surprised when Oscar took her chin in his hand and turned her to face him. He studied her face, and she let her tears go and didn’t bother stopping the shudder of sadness.
“I was afraid of this, bella.” He brought his lips down to kiss her forehead. It felt like a priestly benediction. She blinked away the tears and looked at him.
“What do you mean, you were afraid of this?”
“Evidently, Oscar, the dear man, has been watching out for you from afar all these years, and now he’s concerned,” Mabel told her.
“I got that, but…”
Oscar put his finger to her lips to shush her.
“I know all about David Young—your Batman,” he said in a low voice. Grace heard a hint of menace. But how did he know that David was her Batman?
“Mabel!”
“I didn’t say a thing, dear.”
“No one told me. I’ve been watching.” He paused as if measuring his words. She waited for him open-mouthed, not quite disbelieving because this was Oscar, after all, but not quite sure whether she was upset or comforted that he’d been watching out for her. She decided he wasn’t a creepy stalker, but a benevolent godfather—of sorts.
“I know David Young. I’ve known him since we were young boys and we screwed around in the North End together, keeping each other out of trouble. It worked out better for him than me, as it turned out.” He gave her his signature rueful smile. It was the opposite of David’s confident I-know-everything smile. But they shared a touch of sadness and cynicism all the same.
“But…Aunt Mabel, you knew Oscar since he was a boy?” She turned to the woman in disbelief. “What other secrets do you have?”
“Only one more that concerns you,” she said with a blush and a sheepish smile. “Danny O’Keefe, Chief of Police, is the third in the trio of boyhood blood brothers. I suppose you could call me their den mother. I hadn’t known you at the time Oscar was seeing you.” She gave the man a look of disapproval as only Mabel could. To Oscar’s credit, he withheld his smile—barely. “Or I would have put a stop to that.” She turned back to Grace. “Oscar always had a heart of gold, but it was covered in soot most of the time, if you know what I mean.”
Grace laughed. “I do know what you mean.”
“Besides, he was, and is, too old for you,” Mabel said. That got a grunt from Oscar.
“Oh no. Not that again,” Grace thought out loud. Then Mabel must surely think that David was too old for her as well. Technically, it was all Mabel’s fault that they met because it was at her soiree…. Could it be? Grace snapped her head around to look at the older woman, stunned with her new suspicion.
“Wait a minute—you knew I met David at your soiree all along, didn’t you? You didn’t—”
“Plan it? Why else would I volunteer to throw a ‘Welcome Scotland Yard’ party for the Boston Police Department—of all things—and then insist you attend?”
“Geesh,” was all Grace could think to say. She laughed. “But you told David that he wasn’t right for me. I was right there and heard it for myself.”
“Yes, well, that bit of reverse psychology backfired, didn’t it?”
“What now? Any more grand schemes up your sleeve?”
“Mabel Young, you devil,” Oscar said. “And you had the nerve all those years ago to call me mischievous?” Oscar shook his head and for the first time showed his signature smirk. Grace smiled back automatically, and then she waited. She waited for that feeling she used to have whenever he gave that look. It used to melt her heart—and everything else in her.
Today, she didn’t feel anything but the ordinary pleased feeling she’d have with a good friend. She was officia
lly over him. She hadn’t realized she wasn’t sure, but now she most definitely knew.
“I’m glad to see you after all, even if you have been stalking me.” She winked at him.
“Then why do you look so sad?” he asked her, then shook his head. “No, don’t tell me. I already know.” Oscar nodded at Mabel and she nodded back.
“I think we ought to call Batman and get him over here. You up to it, Mabel?”
“I’m sure I could invent a reason that would persuade him. But I think it would be a much more interesting phone call coming from you.” Mabel chuckled and rubbed her hands together with glee. Then she walked over to pick up the phone.
“What are you two up to? Why are you calling David over here?” Then she realized he and Oscar hadn’t seen each other in a long time. “I suppose you want to visit. I’ll leave as soon as Sophia gets here with Noodles so you can have your visit without me causing any tension.”
“Noodles?” Oscar said.
Mabel, phone in hand, shook her head sadly at Grace and gave a long sigh before punching the number in.
“Dear Grace, we’re calling David over to see you, not Oscar. In fact, even though it would amuse me greatly, I’m not at all sure he should see Oscar. Wouldn’t there be some ethical code that required him to turn you in for something or other? Aren’t you on the lamb for something? Or an escapee?” She put the phone to her ear. Oscar laughed and shook his head.
Grace was confused, but her heart was beating too fast at the prospect of confronting David again. She wasn’t sure she could take any more rejection from him. On the other hand, she had to see him to win him over, didn’t she? She started breathing fast.
“Sit back down and relax, sweetheart,” Oscar said. “You’re hyperventilating. You’re starting to scare me. It’ll be all we can do, as it is, to keep Batman from having a heart attack once he gets a load of me. I’ve never been much of a nurse.” He quirked a half smile.
She sat next to him and looked at his sad, tired eyes. They still sparkled in spite of everything he must have seen. What must he have been through in the intervening years? And here she was getting all wimpy about—well, losing the possible love of her life. Not so small a thing, after all. She felt a flutter in her gut at the thought of David walking through that door.
“Noodles is my dog,” she said. Oscar seemed to be studying her. She needed to keep breathing.
“Thanks for clearing up that mystery. Looks like Mabel is having quite the discussion with her nephew.” Oscar nodded in Mabel’s direction. Grace dared to glance over and saw the woman smile and then place the phone back in its cradle with a flourish before swinging around to face them.
“Mission accomplished! I do love a challenge. I’d forgotten what it’s like to have something really meaningful to do—an important goal.”
“What mission is that?” Grace squinted her eyes at the woman. Mabel laughed.
“You and David. You are my mission. I believe you belong together—and by whatever means possible. I’ve never played matchmaker, but it’s absolutely needed in this case. It would break my heart if you two didn’t get together.”
“Mine too,” Grace said. She wasn’t so sure David would like it, and from the look on Oscar’s face, he wasn’t enjoying the notion much either.
“I can’t claim I’d be heartbroken. I’m not convinced he deserves her,” Oscar said. He examined her eyes. “David may not be the one for you because he is old; but worse than that, he’s world weary. He’s not the least bit family oriented—his lifestyle is unsuitable for a family.
“And let’s face it, Grace, family is what you are all about. I don’t believe you can think of David as your family man Mr. Right.” Oscar stood and paced.
She tried not to dwell on the man’s point, but her stomach tightened. She felt as if she were wearing an iron corset. She wanted to join Oscar in his pacing, but there wasn’t enough room for both of them to pace around Mabel’s parlor. They’d have to go to her ballroom for that: the room where she met David only a few nights ago.
She turned to Mabel with a new thought. The woman looked too much like the cat that swallowed the canary for Grace’s comfort.
“How did you know I’d meet David at your party?”
The woman’s smile grew.
“I’d planned it carefully and hoped for the best, kiddo,” she said with her best Oscar impression. He grunted his recognition. “I’ve known this trio of lugs all their mischievous, wretched, celebrated lives—and loved every twist and turn of the adventure for all three of them. Although I’m glad I wasn’t in the shoes of their poor parents. The minute I met you I fell for you the same way I did for them. You were as fun as a box of toys, more refreshing in your innocence than a schoolyard of kids and more beautiful than any pageant queen I’d ever seen. But what impressed me most about you was that you were willing to hold out for the real thing. That takes guts—and it reminded me of myself. I promised myself I wouldn’t let you get as far as I had in life without finding Mr. Right. I wanted to make sure you got your family—your real family, with all the kids you want.
“I never had that particular dream the way you do. I’ve never seen anyone so dedicated to it and still not compromising to get it. You inspired me to be a closet matchmaker. Well, I’m out of the closet now, but I’m in your corner. And if it’s any consolation to you, I’d take odds that you’ll get what you want and what you deserve.” Mabel finished with a triumphant clap of her hands.
“You mean lay odds,” Oscar said. “Nice touching speech, Mabel. But I’m not so sure I’d lay odds on the house full of kids. And I differ about the wretched lives part for all of us. No one has had a less wretched and more wonderful storybook life than Dick Tracy.”
Grace’s tension coiled ever tighter at the discussion about her dream for children, but she couldn’t think about that any more right now or she’d explode. Or at least cry.
“You know Dick Tracy as Dan O’Keefe, the chief of police and Batman’s sidekick,” Oscar said as he looked out the window. “He’s the third mischief-maker in our North End trio of Musketeers.” He folded his arms and watched her. Then he turned to Mabel, “When will he be getting here, dear aunt?”
“A few minutes. It’ll be a shock for him to see you.” She turned to Grace. “It’s a sensitive topic for Dan and David to have associated with Oscar, so we don’t talk much about it and they certainly don’t talk to others about it, I imagine.”
The doorbell rang. “We’ll see now. He’s here,” Oscar said.
Mabel rubbed her hands together and nodded to Marsha, who appeared in the hall to answer the door. Grace jumped up from her seat on the couch and held her breath.
“Yap, yap, yap, that’s all this dog does. I got a good headache on the way over here, so there better be a good reason for this.” Sophia-the-Pixie carried Noodles into the entryway, stroking the tiny dog’s head. She saw Grace and walked toward her into the middle of the parlor.
“Well, if it isn’t Tinkerbell.” Oscar threw his arms open for a hug. Grace watched her friend spin around and moved in to rescue Noodles. Sophia’s hands flew to her face, Grace caught the dog and the Pixie shrieked. Mabel cackled and had to sit down on the nearest surface, which was an end table—almost knocking over a priceless ivory Erte-inspired lamp.
Oscar caught Pixie, who immediately squirmed out of the man’s arms while he laughed more genuinely than Grace had seen yet. Maybe he was okay, she thought and realized she was worried about him—the same way he was worried about her. That warmed her insides better than a hot cup of tea. But even so, it was nothing like the heart-melting feeling that David gave her.
“What the heck is going on here? Oscar? Oscar!” Pixie shouted and backed up a step as if he were a ghoul instead of a long-lost friend.
“Don’t worry, he’s here for a friendly visit. He’s not here to shoot us.” Grace patted her diminutive friend on the shoulder and winked at Oscar.
“You here to help with the murder
investigation? Are you somehow involved?” Pixie looked from Oscar to Grace, still not convinced of the man’s ability to pay an innocent visit. His eyebrows shot up to where his hairline used to be at that question.
“Murder investigation? Why, and more importantly, who would I be helping with a murder investigation?” He looked from Pixie to Grace. Then his eyes stayed on Grace, expecting an answer and figuring she was the one to give it to him somehow.
Geesh. How would she explain this?
“Didn’t Grace tell you she’s practically a junior detective? A regular Watson,” Pixie said. “If you’re not here about the murder, then, I repeat, what the heck are you doing here?” Pixie looked up at him and Grace thought her neck must be strong from looking up at people all the time—it looked darned uncomfortable. She couldn’t wait to hear Oscar’s answer to her friend’s question.
“Putting aside the murder investigation for just a moment, I came here to rescue Grace from the clutches of David “Batman” Young. Wouldn’t happen to know him, would you?”
“Oh, Batman—hey, wait a minute—how do you even know about him? Have you been spying?”
“I prefer to call it watching out for my love’s interests. And believe me, I know all about him. I’m here to make sure she doesn’t make any tragic mistakes with her life.”
“Oscar! How could you? If David is your childhood friend, and he’s Batman—a genuine hero, and I didn’t hear you arguing that point—then how could it be so tragic? And you better not be referring to the thing about his late wife—”
Mabel cut her off. “I agree with Grace. The tragedy would be if he and Grace never got together. It’s my mission to see that they do—and as quickly as possible, I might add.”
“A democratic romance. Everyone has an opinion on it. How about you, Pixie? You may as well cast a vote too.” Grace folded her arms. She stopped herself from tapping her foot, aware that she’d turned herself into a live cliché, but she did narrow her eyes at Oscar.
“I think…” Sophia began, but paused and looked around.
The Scotland Yard Exchange Series Page 47
