THE TROPHY WIFE

by Ginna Gray

  She put a dab of toothpaste on her brush and gave her teeth a quick cleaning, all the while watching Max's reflection in the mirror as his expression ran the gamut from concerned to disconcerted to outraged.

  "There has to be something the medical profession can do. Dammit, we've put men on the moon. Surely we can find a remedy for morning sickness. It's a wonder that the human race doesn't die out, what with months of sickness and discomfort and then the pain of childbirth you have to go through to have a baby."

  "It probably would, if the men had to go through pregnancy and child-bearing," she replied with a wry smile.

  Elizabeth wet a washcloth with cold water, folded it longways and gingerly walked back into the bedroom, one hand splayed over her midsection. Max hovered over her as though she were an invalid.

  Moaning with relief, she stretched out on her back, placed the cold, wet cloth on her forehead and closed her eyes.

  Max pulled the covers up over her and tucked them in around her as though she were a child. "How do you feel? Any better?"

  "Mmm. Some. My stomach still feels a bit queasy, but if I stay still it's not too bad."

  "I'll be right back," he said, and hurried into the bathroom.

  She heard some banging and rustling, then he returned with a glass of water, which he placed on the end table, and a small empty trash can from the bathroom.

  "I'll put this waste can right beside you so you won't have to jump and run if the sickness hits you," he said.

  She opened one eye and looked at him. "Thank you," she murmured, touched by his thoughtfulness.

  Max went around to his side of the bed, climbed in and turned to lie on his side so that he could watch her. He smoothed his fingertips slowly up and down her arm.

  Elizabeth smiled, drowsiness gradually overtaking her.

  She awoke later that morning to find Max's side of the bed empty and something warm and incredibly soft against the back of her head. She rose up on her elbows and discovered the source of the warmth. Bar Code, who had been sleeping curled up against her neck, meowed in protest.

  "What're you doing here, kitty?" she mumbled. She glanced at the door, but it was closed. Which meant that Max had let the kitten in. She turned a muzzy look on the clock on the bedside table and blinked several times to focus.

  Good Lord! It was almost noon! She'd never slept that late in her life!

  She threw back the covers and started to jump out of bed, then thought better of it. Moving with caution, ever mindful of her iffy stomach, she scooted to the side of the mattress, sat up and swung her feet to the floor. So far so good, she thought after a moment. Tentatively Elizabeth stood up and headed for the bathroom, with Bar Code doing her best to twine around her ankles.

  Almost an hour later, showered, hair washed, teeth brushed and makeup applied, Elizabeth descended the stairs wearing her comfy jeans, a thick pink sweater and socks and loafers. The meowing kitten was at her heels.

  Halfway down the steps she heard the other women talking in the front parlor and she headed that way.

  Pausing in the arched entrance, Elizabeth experienced a moment of extreme happiness. A roaring fire danced in the hearth. Her aunt and mother-in-law were talking and drinking coffee as they busily went through a huge basket of patterns. Mimi sat curled up in a fireside chair with her feet tucked under her, reading the morning paper.

  "Well, lookie here. As I live and breathe, if it isn't our little mommy-to-be," Mimi drawled when she spotted her. "Sleeping Beauty, herself."

  "Good morning, sleepyhead," Talitha said, her sharp old eyes giving her great-niece a once-over.

  "Good morning. I'm sorry I'm so late. Why didn't one of you come upstairs and wake me?"

  "My son left us strict orders not to disturb you, that's why. He told us that you were up before dawn, sick as a horse. Max isn't inclined to exaggeration," Iona said with motherly pride. "So we knew you were probably exhausted. Now, you come over here and sit down."

  Like a cricket, Iona grabbed her crutches, bounded up out of her chair and insisted that Elizabeth sit down in it. "You'll be more comfortable here, dearie, where you can put your feet up. Besides, I need to sit over here on the sofa by your aunt. We're picking out patterns for baby things," she explained.

  Elizabeth was beginning to realize what an energetic person her mother-in-law was. She suspected that Iona was one of those women who had spent a lifetime waiting on others, and now, in her twilight years, she had difficulty sitting around doing nothing.

  Iona popped up at the slightest excuse and flitted here and there, looking for some way to make someone's life easier.

  Max's father had probably benefitted greatly from his wife's penchant for taking care of others, Elizabeth thought.

  Folding down one corner of the newspaper, Mimi looked at Elizabeth over the top and murmured, "Just go with the flow, sugar. It's easier that way. These two are wound up like eight-day clocks."

  Even had she been so inclined, Elizabeth did not have the energy or the heart to argue. She let herself be guided to the chair and obediently put her feet up as Iona slid a footstool under them. Bar Code jumped onto Elizabeth's lap before she could get completely settled.

  Iona laughed. "I swear, you should've named that kitty Shadow. She never lets you out of her sight if she can help it."

  "I know," Elizabeth agreed, stroking the purring kitten's head.

  "As for you, Miss Mimi, Iona and I are not wound up," Aunt Talitha objected.

  "Fiddle-dee-dee," Mimi shot back. "Why, I'll bet neither of you got so much as two hours' sleep last night, you were so excited about this baby."

  "As well we should be," Talitha declared. "The last child born into this family was Elizabeth's younger brother, Ian, God rest his soul. Anyway, that baby will be here before we know it, and Iona and I intend to be prepared."

  "That's right," her cohort agreed.

  "Uh-oh, sugar. You better watch out. If these two join forces, your chances of getting your own way are about as good as Houston getting a snowstorm in August."

  Talitha started to protest, but at that moment Martha came into the room bearing a tray with tea and coffee and crackers.

  "I thought I heard you up, Miss Elizabeth," the housekeeper said. She placed the tray on the coffee table and straightened, her smile beaming as she turned to Elizabeth. "Your aunt told me the good news. Congratulations, miss. You are going to make a great mother. I'm so excited. It's going to be so wonderful to have a baby in the house again."

  "Thank you, Martha," she said, accepting the woman's hug.

  "The fresh coffee is for everyone else and the hot tea and saltine crackers are for you," the housekeeper informed her. "I have no personal experience, of course, being a maiden lady, but I've heard that if you sip hot tea and nibble on crackers, particularly if you do it before you get out of bed, you can control morning sickness."

  "You know, I do believe that I've heard that myself," Talitha chimed in, nodding sagely.

  "Oh, my, yes," Iona agreed. "And have you heard that…"

  While the other ladies chattered away, Elizabeth took a sip of tea and exchanged an amused look with Mimi.

  "Are any of you ladies expecting someone?" Martha asked.

  The question brought a chorus of nos from the other women.

  "Well, there's a strange car coming down the drive."

  Uneasiness darted through Elizabeth, but she quickly suppressed it. It had been almost three weeks since they returned from New York, and in that time they had seen nothing of the man who'd tried to run over her.

  "Now, who on earth…" Aunt Talitha squinted her eyes in an effort to better see through the lace panel between the long tie-back velvet draperies on either side of the window. "I wonder who that could be?"

  "It's probably Max's assistant, Troy," Elizabeth said. "He's supposed to be here sometime today."

  "No, that young man arrived over an hour ago. His car is still parked out front." With the help of her cane, Talitha stood up a
nd headed for the window.

  "Sit down, Auntie. I'll see who it is," Elizabeth said.

  "You'll do no such thing." Talitha turned partway and pointed her cane at Elizabeth. "No jumping up and running around. Not when there are other able-bodied people around. Now, you sit right there and relax."

  "I'm not an invalid, you know," Elizabeth objected, but she sank back in the soft upholstered chair, stroking the kitten and feeling like a chastised child.

  Pretending not to hear that, Talitha stumped over to the window and twitched back the lace panel. "Why, I do believe… Yes! Yes, it is. It's Quinton and Camille. Oh, how wonderful."

  Elizabeth and Mimi exchanged a look and groaned softly, so Talitha would not hear.

  "Who are Quinton and Camille?" Iona asked.

  "My late twin sister's grandchildren," Talitha said, "and Elizabeth's second cousins."

  Martha's cherub face tightened. She quickly gathered up the used coffee cups and utensils and hurried back to the kitchen.

  "Just what you need," Mimi murmured for Elizabeth's ears only. "A visit from Princess Camille. Quinton's fun to have around, but that sister of his is a self-absorbed, overbearing, snotty little bitch."

  "Gee, Mimi, don't hold back," Elizabeth said with a weak chuckle. "But you're right. I have to keep reminding myself that Camille is Aunt Talitha's great-niece, too, just as I am, and she loves for her and Quinton to visit. I'd better go greet them. Camille will have her nose out of joint for a week if I don't."

  With dread, Elizabeth stood up, dumping the kitten to the floor again, and went into the foyer, arriving just as Talitha opened the door.

  "Well, hello. This is a surprise. Come on in here out of the cold wind and give me a hug," Talitha ordered.

  "Oh, my dearest auntie. You can't imagine the difficulty we had getting here. Our flight to Houston was detoured to Dallas, and we had to rent a car for the rest of the way. Thank goodness Quinton is a good driver because the highways are iced over in spots," Camille declared. "I swear, I think it's colder here than in New York."

  "It probably is."

  "Hi, Aunt Talitha." Quinton gave the old lady a hug and a sound kiss on the cheek. "How's my best girl?"

  "Humph. You'd know if you called more often, now, wouldn't you?"

  "Ah, you wound me, gorgeous." Clutching his chest with both hands, Quinton staggered back a few steps, then pretended to pull a dagger out of his heart. "But you're right. I do promise to call you more in the future."

  "Humph. I won't hold my breath."

  "Hello, Elizabeth," Camille said, her tone several degrees cooler than when she'd been talking to their great-aunt. She gave Elizabeth a perfunctory hug and an air kiss.

  "Sorry about this, cuz," Quinton whispered in her ear when it was his turn to hug her. "I tried to talk Camille out of barging in on you, but you know how she is when she gets it into her head to do something. She was determined to swoop down on you, come hell or high water, so I thought I'd better tag along to act as a buffer."

  "Thanks," she murmured. "I'm glad you did."

  "Where is Leon?" Aunt Talitha asked, looking around Camille as though she expected to see her niece's husband come through the door at any second.

  Right on cue, Camille's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Auntie. Leon and I are through."

  "Through? Don't tell me you're divorced again."

  "Well … not officially. Not yet. I'm going to file after the holidays."

  "Oh, for heaven's sake. You foolish, foolish child. If your marriage is in trouble, what are you doing here?"

  Camille's chin quivered and tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Where else would I be at a time like this other than in the bosom of my family?"

  Elizabeth stood back, marveling at how easily Camille could turn on the waterworks. She half expected her cousin to put the back of her hand to her forehead and faint like a Victorian maiden.

  "Humph. I'll tell you where you should be, young lady. You should be at home with your husband, trying to work out your problems. You don't just throw away a marriage on a whim or because something didn't go your way."

  "Oh. You are so mean and heartless," Camille wailed, dabbing at her eyes. "Just like Granny Mariah always said you were."

  Oh, you're good, Elizabeth thought, watching her cousin's theatrics. Very good. Camille knew just what buttons to push with most people. Being compared unfavorably to her twin was guaranteed to soften Aunt Talitha's attitude.

  "Oh, she said that, did she? Humph. A lot that featherbrained sister of mine knew." Talitha sighed. "You're here now so you might as well come on in.

  "Well? What are you doing just standing here? Let's go into the parlor and get comfortable."

  Camille dabbed her eyes again and batted her tear-drenched eyelashes at her aunt. "Then Quinton and I can stay?" Camille asked with a pitiful quaver in her voice.

  "Of course you can stay, you silly girl. But you and I are going to have a serious talk before you leave. Understood?"

  "Yes, Auntie," Camille replied in a meek voice.

  "Here, let me take your coats," Elizabeth volunteered.

  "Where is Martha?" Camille asked as she hung up the coats in the entry way closet. "That's a servant's job. I swear, Elizabeth, you are much too lax with your hired help. It's never wise to allow the line between employer and employee to blur."

  "I'll keep that in mind. Now, come into the parlor and meet my mother-in-law."

  "Oh, that's right. You're a new bride. I almost forgot."

  "Don't you believe it," Quinton whispered in Elizabeth's ear. "Ever since she found out that you had remarried she's been straining at the bit to fly down here and get a look at your new husband. I only managed to talk her out of coming here that very day by pointing out that you were newly weds and still on your honeymoon."

  Elizabeth knew her cousins well, and it wasn't difficult for her to imagine Camille making such a snap decision, or for Quinton to rein her in. "Thanks again," she murmured back as they stepped into the parlor.

  "Iona, dear, I'd like for you to meet my cousins, Camille Lawrence and her brother, Quinton Moseby."

  They exchanged greetings and Elizabeth gestured to her best friend. "And of course, you both know Mimi."

  "Oh. Mimi," Camille said as though she had just smelled something bad. "I didn't expect to find you here."

  Unfazed, Mimi grinned. "Yep, it's me, all right. Just like the proverbial bad penny, I keep turning up."

  Camille sniffed. "You said it, not me."

  "All right, now. None of that," Aunt Talitha ordered with a thump of her cane. "You're barely inside the door and already spatting like children."

  "You're right, Talitha, sugar. I'm sorry," Mimi said contritely.

  The old woman's sharp gaze swung to her grand-niece, and Camille's pinched mouth.

  "What? Why should I apologize?" Her aunt's gaze did not waver. "Oh, all right! I shouldn't have said that."

  "Pay no attention to my sister." Quinton bent and bestowed a kiss on Mimi's lips. "Hiya, gorgeous. Looking good, as always," he said with a flirtatious wink.

  Camille gave her brother a peeved look as she sat down on the sofa next to Iona.

  Elizabeth returned to her chair. Almost before her rear end touched the seat, Bar Code nimbly jumped back into her lap and curled up.

  "Eeeoow. You have a cat. Honestly, Elizabeth, you know how much I dislike cats," Camille said, grimacing. "You got this one on purpose to irritate me, didn't you?"

  "Now, how could I do that when I had no idea that you and Quinton were coming for a visit?"

  "Well, we're here now, so would you please put that animal outside where it belongs?"

  "In this cold? Absolutely not. Bar Code is just a kitten. Anyway, she's a house cat."

  Camille appealed to their aunt. "Aunt Talitha, can't you make her put that thing outside? It's your house, too."

  "No, dear, I can't. Nor would I if I could. The kitten isn't hurting anyone and she's a good pet to have around."
<
br />   "Well. I can see who has favored status around here."

  "Don't be ridiculous, Camille," Talitha snapped. "You and Elizabeth and Quinton are all dear to me. I would never show favoritism. To imply that I would is insulting."

  "I'm sorry, Auntie. It's just that I'm so upset now, with the divorce pending and all." Camille produced a lace-trimmed hankie and genteelly dabbed at her eyes.

  Her aunt looked at her for a long time, then nodded. "Very well, child, you're forgiven. Now, back to this divorce of yours. Why on earth are you divorcing poor Leon? He has to be heartbroken."

  "Oh, Auntie, you don't know what I put up with from that man." With a new audience to play to, her cousin laid it on thick as she listed her complaints against her fourth husband.

  Once her litany of her poor Leon's shortcomings came to an end, Camille asked, "Speaking of husbands, where is this new husband of yours, by the way?"

  "He and his assistant are out back," Talitha said. "He said something about showing Troy the new helicopter pad he had built."

  "Oh, that's right," Elizabeth chimed in. "His new helicopter is supposed to be delivered sometime today."

  "Humph. Men and their toys," Talitha muttered.

  Camille's eyebrows rose. "He has his very own helicopter? My, my. He must be rolling in money."

  "Don't be crass, young woman," their aunt ordered.

  To change the subject, Elizabeth said the first thing that popped into her mind. "You know, Camille, as happy as Aunt Talitha and I are to see you and Quinton, I do wish you had called first."

  "Why should I? This is my ancestral home as much as it is yours," she declared with a sniff.

  "Wrong. This may be your ancestral home, but no part of this place belongs to you or Quinton. Two-thirds of Mimosa Landing and this house belong to me, period. The rest is Aunt Talitha's."

  "Are you saying that I can't visit my aunt whenever I please?"

  "Not at all. I'm merely suggesting that you do the polite thing and call first. If for no other reason than to give Martha time to get the guest rooms ready."

  "Oh, pooh. Servants are there to do your bidding. It won't hurt her to hustle a bit. Besides, I happen to know that Martha keeps this entire house spotless all the time."