A Matter of Time 06 - But For You (MM)

by Mary Calmes

  He nodded, and Sam pulled him close and hugged him tight. Kola looked miserable, but he turned and pressed his face into my stomach and leaned.

  Sam stood up, took my chin in his hand, and stared down into my eyes. “I’ll be home shortly.”

  “Okay,” was all I said.

  He looked at Dane, who nodded.

  Sam walked away and didn’t turn back around.

  Dane reached down and swept Kola up into his arms, and I saw a man grabbing all our things from the chairs where we had left them.

  “Is that your driver, Uncle Dane?” Kola asked him.

  “He is today, love.”

  Milton stopped me. “Jory, it was great to meet you. This is my card with my e-mail address.”

  “Thanks,” I said softly, wrung out all of a sudden.

  “You know”—he smiled at Dane—“you and your brother look nothing alike.”

  “Oh no?” Dane glowered at him. “Everyone thinks but for the hair color that we could be twins.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” I said under my breath.

  “Come now,” Dane said sharply.

  Kola put his head down on his uncle’s shoulder, and I followed my brother out of the hotel. I didn’t look over at Sam.

  KOLA and Hannah thought that first class was the coolest thing ever.

  They had their own video monitors, the flight attendants brought warm cookies and milk, and they got to pick what they wanted for lunch.

  They sat in front of Dane and me, and we talked about everything on the way home. I explained about the witness and what had happened and how there had been a man in our room. Dane listened and nodded, taking it all in.

  I really wasn’t surprised when we weren’t driven home.

  The loft in River North was one of Dane’s many investments. He had places in the Gold Coast area as well, which was considered very trendy and up and coming. Dane bought real estate, fixed it up, sometimes did the interior design himself and sometimes hired someone. This one had been done by someone else, as exposed brick, exposed pipes in the ceiling, and all-wood floors were not Dane’s aesthetic. If you were going for an urban feel, a concrete floor was more him, or wrought iron or tile. It was nice, though: two huge bedrooms, two bathrooms, one guest washroom with just a toilet and a sink, an office, a kitchen, a great room, and a sort of reading nook area.

  The patio was small but secure with no access other than through the loft. It was smaller than our house but still, for me and the kids, enormous. Chilly was already asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace when we got there.

  I groaned and let my head roll sideways to look up at Dane.

  “The kids have to share a room, but for the short time that you’ll be here, that should be fine. Their room is at the back end; you and Sam have the first one closest to the front door. I had most of your clothes brought over, but honestly, who needs that many shoes?”

  “This isn’t—”

  “There’s a doorman out front and two security guards that check people in and out. You need to give them a list of who gets access to the apartment. I gave them Sam’s name already. There are four apartments per floor. On this one, the eighteenth, you have Mrs. Garcia and her son Ramon in 1801, the Patels in 1803, and Gabe Fukushima and his partner, James Garrett, in 1804. The walls are thick; you shouldn’t hear anyone, the garbage chute is out the door to your left, and your minivan is on the basement level in stall B44. Any other questions?”

  “We’d be fine at home.”

  “Next Friday you plan to have my kids with you, right?”

  “Yes.”

  He squinted at me. “I don’t feel comfortable with you alone in your house without Sam. The idea of you putting not only your kids but mine in danger as well… Jory, use your head. You lock that front door, you set the alarm, which is zero-zero-seven plus the number one when you disarm it and zero-zero-seven plus two when you arm it—then I know you’ll be safe and sound in here.”

  “Double O seven? Really?”

  He just looked at me.

  “Dane—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not on my watch. Never. If Sam was there with you, if you weren’t in mortal danger… fine. But someone tried to shoot you and your kids in a hotel. Absolutely not.”

  I squinted at him. “Is this why you and Aja moved into that building downtown? Were you worried about your safety in Oak Park?”

  “Oh no, Oak Park is gorgeous and safe. It was just even that small commute to her work and my office and the kids’ school got to be tedious. This way I can drop them off, Aja can pick them up, and we can both actually make it home to eat dinner together as a family and not have to sit in traffic for an hour, hour and a half.”

  “Did you sell it yet? The Oak Park house?”

  “No.” He squinted at me. “Sam asked me not to.”

  I was surprised. “Sam asked?”

  He grunted. “Yes, he apparently really loves it and the backyard and the front yard and the neighborhood and the whole area. He’s thinking about putting in an offer on it.”

  “But?”

  “But he doesn’t trust me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means that he thinks I’ll tamper with the appraisal to sell it to him for cheaper than it is.”

  “And you would.” I smiled at him.

  “I would give it to you if he weren’t so exasperatingly stubborn.”

  “Maybe Aja wouldn’t want you to do that. Her brother and his wife are expecting a child, maybe he’d like you to give it to—”

  “Alex moved to Delaware.”

  “Yes, I know, but—”

  “He married a woman from Delaware.”

  I growled at him.

  “He lives in Delaware now,” he said pointedly, like I was stupid.

  “You know what I mean. If Alex had a house here, or Carmen, maybe they—”

  “Carmen is a journalist, technically now a foreign correspondent with ABC News. She lives in New York and Paris and—”

  “Yeah, I know, but—”

  “Aja’s parents have no interest in returning to Chicago even to visit. It’s—I’m quoting her father now—stupid cold. He’s done bundling up. He wants to golf and wear Crocs.”

  “You’re making that last part up. The man was a judge, for crissakes.”

  “I have a picture on my phone if you’d like to see. Aja was mortified and sent it to me on her last visit when I was stuck here for that convention.”

  “Oh God.”

  “The fact is that you and Sam are who Aja and I have. Aja would love to see you both in our old house and would love to have it be yours. She doesn’t want to sell her baby to strangers, but neither does she want to continue holding on to a property that we have to pay to keep up.”

  “And so?”

  “So I’m tampering with the inspection report as we speak.”

  “Dane, you can’t do that. He’ll find out.”

  “It will take at least six months for him to find out, and by then we’ll have closed on it and he’ll be wrapped up in a mortgage he can’t get out of.”

  “So you’re trying to trap Sam into buying the house.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I could just talk to him.”

  “And ruin the surprise and take away his happiness? Would you do that?”

  “I really don’t like you right now.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  I sighed deeply. “So, me and the kids are stuck here until Sam gets back.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you bring my laptop?”

  “Yes.”

  “Kola’s karate gi?”

  “Yes.”

  I had to think. “Hannah’s Barbie Dreamhouse?”

  “Yes.” He smiled at me.

  “Chilly’s dishes and his litter box and his toys and his cat tower and—”

  “Yes. May I ask why he had stainless steel bowls instead of the kind that feed and water him automatically
?”

  “Because automatic doesn’t teach kids any responsibility.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And setting the feeder, filling it, this teaches nothing?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He grunted and gave me a pat on the arm before he headed for the door.

  “You always take care of me. Thank you.”

  “That is what family is for.”

  I nodded as he reached the front door.

  “Come let me out. Remember: when you’re home, when you leave, make sure the alarm is engaged.”

  “Yes.”

  “At night before you go to bed—”

  “I got it,” I said as I reached him.

  “When you’re home, you press the occupied button and the alarm will shut off for movement and only alert you if a door or window is opened.”

  “Okay.”

  “When you leave, when you go to bed, you arm it for movement.”

  “Yes, General.”

  “Funny.”

  “I try.”

  “Tomorrow is Sunday.”

  “Announcing the obvious.” I snickered. “You haven’t done that in years.”

  “Very droll.”

  I shrugged.

  “On Monday Aja expects you for dinner and drinks at our place at seven.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s having a dinner party for her friend, Randall Erickson, who just moved back into town.”

  I studied his face. “Who is he? Old boyfriend?”

  Dane scoffed. “No, actually, he’s a friend from college, and I got the feeling he was gay, though I didn’t pry.”

  “You wouldn’t even let Aja’s exes in your house, would you?”

  “Aja does as she pleases, it’s our house, and she invites who she wants.”

  “And you wouldn’t care?”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  It made sense that he wouldn’t. Dane did not suffer the normal feelings of inadequacy or have the bouts of uncertainty that most people did. He knew exactly who he was, knew his pros outweighed his cons, and had been told, on more than one occasion by more than one woman, that if he should ever find himself single again to please, please call. But I knew Aja, and she and Dane were in it for the long haul.

  I always enjoyed watching them in any social situation. They would check on each other across rooms; Dane would smile and give her a head tip; she would blow him a kiss or crook her finger at him.

  When they stood together, normally she held his hand, and if not, his arm was around her. They sat together always unless there were place cards, and even then, they would be up and down because one of them had thought of something to tell the other. People stopped seating them apart because it was simply too distracting. They finished one another’s sentences; she laughed at his jokes, which were horrible; and he was always on time because, as he said, her time was precious to him, so why would he make her wait?

  “Jory.”

  “Sorry. What?”

  “I took the liberty of having Pedro speak to Dylan about babysitting your kids for you when he picked up your cat, and she agreed.”

  Pedro Blue was Dane’s assistant—had been for going on four years at this point. I was proud of myself because I was the one who had chosen him and he was still there and had become invaluable to my brother. Pedro had recently gotten married in New York, and the honeymoon to Paris that Dane had sent them on had probably cemented his and Dane’s relationship for life. Pedro had gushed over the phone to me the last time we had talked.

  “And how was their honeymoon?”

  “I didn’t ask.” He squinted at me.

  “You didn’t have to ask him how many times a day he got laid, but you could have inquired if he liked the Louvre.”

  He grunted.

  “I’ll be at the party. Go away so I can get my kids settled.”

  “Okay.” He smiled at me. “Drinks are at seven, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  I got a shoulder squeeze and that was it. Dane didn’t do demonstrations of affection other than with his wife, his kids, my kids, or Aja’s mother, who hugged and kissed him a lot. By all accounts, Dane’s parents had been very kind, warm people, but they were not the sort that he saw every night or even every week. His father was a real estate developer, his mother a socialite, and though they cared for him deeply, they were not hands-on. When his parents were there, the three of them laughed and got along wonderfully, but Dane could turn that devotion off and on like a faucet. Because his parents had wanted him to learn that relationships between employer and employee were transient and not to be counted on, his early life had been filled with rotating staff. No one was allowed to become permanent. Butlers, maids, gardeners, chauffeurs, and a never-ending stream of nannies had filled his formative years. I was certain that the way he used to change out women was a direct reflection of the nurturing, care-giving women in his life having been swapped out so frequently. Dane did not maintain long-term relationships with anyone but people he chose himself: his friends and then, finally, me.

  I had been Dane’s assistant for five years before being fired and then told that he was basically adopting me as the little brother he’d never had. I changed my last name—Keyes—to Harcourt, and then there were two of us. Dane had been adopted as an infant; he then turned around and adopted me. It had always made great sense to me and, I knew, to him. And no one ever questioned that we didn’t look alike, that he was tall and godlike and I was short and not. I suspected that when Dane looked at people who thought to ask and the gray eyes were on them, the gaze solid and unwavering, the idea of questioning the man about anything in his life became moot. Best not to challenge him. Better to simply smile and nod.

  As I held the door open for him and he reminded me, again, about the alarm, I was going to give him some smartass remark about the size of my brain being bigger then a poodle’s so that I could, actually, retain information when he reached out and put a hand on my cheek.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said softly before he turned and walked away.

  “You could just say you love me and you worry about me!” I called after him, chuckling.

  He didn’t even glance over his shoulder, and that was endearing for reasons that most people wouldn’t get. But I understood him so well. Dane demonstrated how he felt about you; he was not big on declarations of devotion. Anyone could say they loved you, Dane showed it, and I had always been an action over words kind of guy—except where Sam was concerned. From him I needed both.

  I called Kola and Hannah out of the bedroom, and they were excited about the Wii in their room and the PlayStation and the ginormous television set.

  “Ginormous?” I repeated.

  Kola nodded.

  “When’s Daddy coming?” Hannah wanted to know, because she was so Sam’s girl, his champion, his cheerleader, and his biggest fan.

  “Probably not until next week, B.”

  She began the blinking that normally happened before she started to cry, so I grabbed her and pulled her onto my lap for a cuddle.

  “Pa, I wanna play hide-and-seek.”

  “Okay, and after should we order pizza and watch a movie?”

  “Pizza!” Kola chanted.

  “I wanna watch The Wizard of Oz!”

  “Not again.” He changed instantly to whining. “You just wanna see the melting part anyway.”

  Hannah looked thoughtful. “I should take my water gun in my backpack to shoot at Ms. Brady and check if she’s a witch.”

  Kola’s face lit up. “That’s a really good idea,” he said as though he was surprised his sister had come up with it. “You could just shoot anyone who was mean to you.”

  Her eyes got huge.

  “No,” I told her, then looked at him. “And no. We don’t go around hosing people down with water guns. It’s rude.”

  “But what if a person is a witch?” Kola wanted to
know.

  “How do you know they’re a witch?”

  “You won’t unless you shoot ’em with water.” He was appealing to my logic.

  “Which is rude,” I repeated. I got a D in Logic in college.

  Kola threw up his hands in defeat.

  “And besides, there are good witches and bad witches, just like in the movie. What if you melt a good one?”

  He considered that. “I don’t think good witches melt from water.”

  “I don’t think so either,” Hannah agreed with him.

  “Well, we’ll have to look it up.”

  That seemed to appease them for a moment and I had a thought.

  “Do you even have your water gun here?”

  Hannah nodded. “Yeah, Uncle Dane brought it for me.”

  For what reason? Why in the world would my brother have taken the time to pack her Super Soaker? The man was so odd sometimes.

  “What did you say about the zombies?” Hannah said to her brother as she cuddled with me. They had obviously been engaged in some sort of discussion while I was talking with Dane.

  “When?”

  “I asked you if they could push buttons.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, yeah and no, they can’t, only on accident.”

  She nodded. “What about climbing ladders?”

  “No, they have stiff legs. You hafta bend your knees.”

  She nodded, clearly accepting his expert testimony on this subject.

  “Pa?”

  “Yes, my son,” I said seriously.

  “If dinosaurs turned into birds and apes turned into humans, what did fish turn into?”

  I really needed Sam home; he could do this for hours, speculation and hypothesis. I was no good at it. “I dunno, what do you think?”

  Kola looked at his sister to make sure her voice was heard and included. He never answered one of his own questions without her getting to chime in.

  “Big fish?” Hannah offered.

  He shook his head, pensive. “Sharks?”

  “You said there were sharks already,” she reminded him.

  “Yeah, so.” He looked at me. “Pa?”

  “Fish came on land and turned into dinosaurs,” I told him. “I think. Or something like that. You should have asked Milton while we were in Arizona.”

  “Oh yeah, huh.”