Justine returned to her office. To her secretary she said, “Don’t take any calls for the rest of the day. I don’t want to be disturbed. For any reason. Do you understand, Astrid?”
“Yes, Mrs. Landers, you are not to be disturbed for any reason.”
Justine closed and locked the door. She walked to her ornate desk on shaking legs. She felt herself ooze into the chair. How did a person go about finding a family they hadn’t seen in thirty-five years?
Ross looked at the pile of work on his desk. It was going to take him days to wade through it. He wished, as he did every day, that Woo was still working alongside him. Wishing was for fools, he told himself. He should know, since he was an authority on the subject. Jesus, he had to go over to the warehouse at some point, and he had a lunch date with his father. Maybe he could change lunch to dinner and bring Lena along. And he had to call Jory. Maybe this kind of news would be better presented face-to-face. If so, that meant a trip to Chestnut Hill. Should he tell her about Lena? Would it be better for her to hear it from him or someone else, namely Woo? He had to admit he didn’t know. If the moment is right, I’ll tell her, if it isn’t, then maybe at the courthouse. Here he was, assuming she would be interested, which probably wasn’t the truth at all.
Ross called his father, who didn’t seem disappointed at all. Dinner, he said, would be fine. But Jasper’s voice changed when Ross suggested bringing Lena along. “She probably won’t be able to make it,” Ross added hastily. “I just thought it would be nice.”
Woo was in court and wouldn’t be back in the office till after four. Ross left his name and number. His second call was to Lena, who said not to worry about her, she would wash her hair and give herself a much-needed manicure. “Stop by, if it isn’t too late.”
Ross reached for his coat, searched his briefcase for the folder he wanted, and was out of the office before he could think twice about what he was doing or where he was going.
It was snowing, the wind gusting, when Ross slipped the Skylark into gear to back out of his parking space. He loved snow. He craned his neck to look upward. If it continued, the world would be covered with a blanket of white in a few hours.
He drove carefully, aware of the drivers who came unglued at the first sign of bad weather. He’d gotten stuck in a snowstorm once during his third year at Villanova. He and Woo had been living in a rental house two miles off campus with four other students. His car had been in the shop for transmission trouble, forcing him to walk the two miles back and forth to school. Dressed in sweats and tennis shoes, he’d slogged his way home from the gym. Two days later he had a cold that turned into bronchitis and then pneumonia. Woo and the guys had taken care of him with the help of the school nurse and antibiotics. He hadn’t even bothered to notify his parents. The guys had given him better care than a team of round-the-clock nurses. He remembered drinking greasy chicken soup by the gallon and rum toddies by the quart. It was one of his more memorable college experiences.
By the time he reached Germantown Avenue, the snow was battling Ross’s windshield wipers with a vengeance. Visibility was terrible. “Shit,” he said succinctly. This was not one of his better ideas. For Christ’s sake, he didn’t even know if Jory was home. “You aren’t thinking today, Landers,” he mumbled as he steered the Buick onto Gravers Lane. He skidded when he made the turn, the car fishtailing across the length of the road to settle in someone’s lawn. He slid again when he tried to back the car out to the road. Damn, he should have gotten the new snow tires he needed weeks ago. Procrastination these days was his middle name.
His breath exploded from his mouth like a gunshot when he finally managed to steer his car into Jory’s driveway. He stepped into an inch of new crystal-white snow. A second later he was on all fours on the front walkway, the red door straight ahead of him, his slick leather soles giving out under him. “Son of a bitch!” he seethed as he picked himself up. A moment later he heard tinkling laughter from the side of the house. He turned, slipped, and went down again. Sixteen legs pummeled him. He felt one of his ears being nibbled, not exactly an unpleasant feeling. A tail swished in front of his eyes and then another. He cursed ripely before he burst into laughter as one of the dogs tried to nuzzle down into his jacket.
Jory laughed delightedly. “They don’t know about friends and foes yet,” she said. “You were in the neighborhood and thought you’d stop by, is that it, Ross?”
By now he was on his feet again. “Not exactly. Foe? Did you ever hear about rock salt? You could get your ass sued off if someone slips and gets hurt on your property. Do you know that?”
“I’ve heard of rock salt, I just don’t happen to have any. Sue me.”
“I’m probably bruised from head to toe,” he grumbled. “I’m serious about the rock salt.”
“And I’m serious about not having any.”
“For God’s sake, use table salt, then, before I manage to kill myself.”
“You aren’t exactly dressed for this winter weather,” Jory said, pointing to his wing-tip shoes. “You can wait on the porch or in your car until I walk the dogs. Or I can get you a pair of my father’s boots and his shearling jacket.”
“Sure,” Ross said as he shuffled toward the house, hanging onto her for dear life, the dogs snapping and nipping at his pants. “I can’t believe you have four dogs,” he said when they were finally on the porch.
“I can’t believe you’re out here in the middle of a snowstorm,” Jory said pointedly. “Wait here and keep your eyes on the dogs. They like to scamper out to the road.”
“And you think I can catch them with these shoes?” Ross asked disgustedly.
“I’d expect you to try. I’ll just be a moment.” She was as good as her word and was back in five minutes with a stout pair of rubber boots and a heavy jacket complete with hood. “I think these are fishing boots or something, the soles are grooved. You should be able to stay upright.” The laughter was back in her voice. When Ross pulled the hood over his wet head, she gurgled again. “Nanook of the North. Well, come on, if you’re coming with us. Don’t just stand there. These guys have been real patient.”
“Do they have names? How do you tell them apart?” Ross asked, falling into step beside her.
“I had color strings on them for a while, but it didn’t do any good. Now I just call one name and they all respond. Hey, it works, and it makes life simple.”
“How come you’re home today? I was halfway here before I thought about that. Good thing, though, you’d never get home from the city at five o’clock. My tires are bald. I meant to buy snow tires, but didn’t get around to it. Story of my life these days.”
“I have some chains in the garage you can borrow. You can give them to Woo to bring home.”
“Sounds good,” Ross said carefully. “Wonder if Woo will make it home in that little car he drives. Does he have chains?”
“I have no idea. He may have to stay in town tonight. I’m not his keeper, Ross. The only time I see him is on the weekends when he works outside.”
“You didn’t tell me what you’re doing at home. I thought you were working. Don’t you have a job?” he asked.
“It really isn’t any of your business, but yes, I have a job. I work from home. Which brings me to my question, why are you here?”
“I came out to tell you our court date was moved up to the day after tomorrow. I didn’t want to tell you something like that over the phone.”
Jory sucked in a deep breath. She hunched deeper into her heavy jacket. “Why?” was all she said.
Ross shrugged. “I don’t know. Would you rather I told you over the phone?”
“I don’t suppose it makes any difference.” Of course it made a difference. She would have cried when she hung up the phone. She wanted to cry now, but she couldn’t let Ross see how much the divorce was hurting her.
“I didn’t stop to think. It wasn’t snowing so hard in town. Telling you on the phone seemed . . . I don’t know, callous, I guess.”
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“I guess,” Jory muttered.
“In less than forty-eight hours we’ll both be free. It took a long time. Guess you’re relieved.”
“Are you?”
Ross chose his words carefully. “It’s probably best for both of us. We need to get on with our lives. Don’t you agree?”
“With which part?”
“About the divorce, you know, getting on with our lives and making futures for ourselves.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Jory said quietly. “It’s getting colder, don’t you think?”
“Feels that way. Are you sure those dogs won’t get sick out here in the snow? They don’t look like they have a whole lot of hair on them to keep them warm, and they are pretty low to the ground. I got pneumonia once after walking home in a snowstorm. I was soaked to the skin. Maybe you should take them inside and dry them off.”
The horror on Jory’s face was so total, Ross reached out to her.
“Don’t just stand there, Ross, help me. I never thought of that. I just . . . the first snow and all, I thought they’d romp and have some fun, a new experience for them. My God, what if they get sick? Hurry. For God’s sake, Ross, they aren’t going to bite you, and if they do, they’ve had their shots.”
“They aren’t going to let us catch them, they’re having too much fun. Let’s run, and maybe they’ll follow us. I’ll whistle. Do they respond to whistles?” he asked.
“How the hell do I know? I don’t even know how to whistle,” She ran, calling the dogs’ names over and over. The hysteria in her voice brought the dogs up short as one by one they raced after Ross’s lumbering body. The moment they were inside, Jory slammed the red door. “I’ll get the towels. Take off your things and you can help me.”
“Do what?”
“Take care of the dogs, for God’s sake.” Jory was kicking off her boots as she ran toward the hall and the linen closet. Her jacket lay in a heap with her mittens in the middle of the dining room floor.
“Rub them down and then warm the towel and wrap them tight. I think that will work, don’t you?”
“Hey, I’m a lawyer. I never had a dog. I don’t know anything about dogs.”
“Well, guess what, Ross, I’m a journalist and I never had a dog either, so let’s give it a try. You made good sense outside, so let’s act on it.”
He was enjoying this. Working as a team, they dried the shivering dogs and then warmed the towels in front of the fire screen. Jory sat back on her haunches to survey their handiwork. “How come the two you wrapped are neater than mine?”
Ross laughed. “I guess my hands are bigger. They’re almost asleep. Which one is which?”
“I think that’s Bernie and Sam by you, and mine are Clancy and Murphy.” Ross guffawed. Jory giggled. “Now what?” she asked, looking at him intently.
“Chicken soup and a toddy worked for me when I got caught in a snowstorm,” he replied. “Woo and the guys at school took care of me. My parents didn’t even know I was sick. Of course, you’ll have to give it in bowls versus spoons. I don’t think it will hurt them.”
“Okay, I’ll make it. Watch them, okay?”
“This fire is nice,” Ross said, indicating the oak logs.
“Oak is good, it burns steadily and lasts a long time. I curl up out here and work. The dogs like to snooze by the fire. Would you . . . would you like something to eat?”
“If it isn’t too much trouble. After we take care of the dogs.”
“Of course, after the dogs. The dogs come first.”
CHAPTER NINE
A bowl of soup in one hand, a bowl of tea with brandy in the other, Jory watched Ross from the dining room doorway. He was on his stomach on the floor, his face pressed against first one dog and then another. Pink tongues at his face. He looked happy. The dogs looked happy. She knew she looked miserable. She came in and set the bowls down. “You do the soup and I’ll do the tea and brandy.”
Fifteen minutes later Ross said, “Either they’re drunk or they’re out for the count. I’m no authority, but I’d say they’re going to sleep for a good three hours. Look, there’s steam coming up from the towels. I wish I could sleep like that.”
“Me too,” Jory said, gathering up the bowls. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get us some lunch. Coffee or cocoa?”
“You make cocoa?” Ross asked in amazement.
“Yes, I make cocoa. Is that what you want?”
“Well, sure. Anything is all right. Would you mind if I called the office? It doesn’t look like I’m going to make my three o’clock meeting.”
“Be my guest.”
It wasn’t until Jory was adding lettuce to the chicken sandwiches that she remembered her pile of work on the end table. If Ross looked at it, he’d know she was Auntie Ann. Would he look at it? Damn, why had she carried her work to the living room? When the snow started to fall earlier, she’d thought a fire would be cozy and comfortable, and all she was really doing was reading the letters and choosing which ones to answer in the column. What might give away her secret, if Ross chose to look behind the sofa, was the sack of mail that said Philadelphia Democrat stamped in bold black letters on the burlap.
She wouldn’t think about why he was here. She had to concentrate on slicing the chicken so the lettuce wouldn’t make the bread cockeyed. She personally liked thick but flat sandwiches. She’d made the bread on Sunday afternoon. Every time she’d punched down the dough, she’d been punching Ross. The bread turned out perfect.
Jory parted the curtains to look outside. She could barely make out the carriage house at the back of the lot in the swirling snow. Would Ross be able to make it back to town? Her heart thumped in her chest as she placed the plates and bowls of soup on a metal tray that said SCHLITZ BEER. The thick mugs of cocoa were the last thing to be added to the tray.
He looks like he belongs, Jory thought sadly when she set the tray down on the round table in front of the sofa. She noticed his bare feet, and his wet socks hanging from the mantel. “A little early for Christmas, isn’t it?” she asked tightly.
“I thought they’d dry quicker up there. I see you have your Christmas tree already. Where’d you get it?” he said, pointing to the corner where a giant Frazier fir leaned against the wall in a bucket of water.
“I went out to the country over the weekend and Pete chopped it down for me. They have these farms where you go and pick one out and cut it yourself. I was going to take a shot at it, but Pete said I’d be sawing and chopping for hours, so he did it for me. He got one for the carriage house too. I was going to decorate mine this evening. I assume the Christmas decorations are still in the attic. I even got enough evergreens to string a garland down the banister and over the mantel. Enough to make my own front-door wreath. Would you believe they want two dollars for a wreath and fifteen cents for a bundle of greens? What are you doing for Christmas, Ross?” God, why was she babbling like this?
“I haven’t thought too much about it. It’s more or less like any other day. Are you staying here?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. This will be my first real Christmas. I know that sounds rather silly, but it never seemed like Christmas in Florida. And growing up here . . . it was rip open the packages and get it over with. This year it’s going to be different. This year I have the dogs. I’m going to make a turkey and plum pudding. I plan to make Christmas cookies and fruitcake. I even bought myself some presents I’m going to wrap so I have something to open on Christmas Eve. I like opening presents on Christmas Eve better than Christmas morning.” God, she was babbling again. Why?
“It sounds kind of sad. What I mean is, your going to all that trouble when you’ll be alone.”
“But I’m not alone. I have the dogs. I think Pete is staying in town. He said something about going home for Christmas Eve and coming back after Midnight Mass. He may have changed his mind, though. He’s got a pretty serious case he’s preparing for court. He loves it at the prosecutor’s office, but then I guess he
already told you that.”
“I haven’t seen much of Woo lately. I did call and leave a message for him earlier this morning. Jory, this soup is the best I’ve ever eaten. Where did you get this bread?”
Jory laughed. “I made both of them, the soup and the bread, when I got back from the farm on Sunday. I figured I owed Pete a dinner for cutting down my tree and carrying it in here. Believe it or not, I’m a pretty good cook.”
“The cocoa’s good too. I guess you and Woo are hitting it off okay then,” Ross said coolly.
“Yes. He’s a very nice person, Ross, but then I guess you know that since you’ve been friends for years.”
“They don’t come any better than Woo.” Then Ross blurted out, “What will you do after the divorce?”
“The same thing I’m doing now. It’s not going to change my lifestyle at all. I suppose I’ll feel sad for a while, but that’s to be expected. What will you do? I heard you’re seeing someone.”
“Did Woo tell you that?”
“No, Pete did not tell me that. I was in town a few days after Thanksgiving and saw you walking down the street holding a very pretty girl’s hand. I made my own assumptions. Will you remarry?” She busied herself with the dishes so she wouldn’t have to see his face when he responded.
“Not right now. Someday. Then again, maybe not.” He realized the words were true. And that meant he wouldn’t be giving Lena a ring for Christmas. He felt like shouting in relief. “Our case is scheduled for eleven o’clock on Thursday.”
“I’ll be there, Ross.”
“What’s that wonderful smell coming from the kitchen?”
“Stew. I put it on early this morning so it could cook all day. I really have a schedule, even though I work at home.”
“What exactly do you do?” Ross asked curiously.
“I write. I’m learning as I do it.” He must not have looked at her materials or seen the sack of mail. “Listen, I wonder if you’d do me a favor, Ross,” she said, trying to change the subject.
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