Maid for Martin
Page 13
Lillian straightened and shook her head. “I can’t imagine not doing my own decorating. She didn’t do any of the trees? That’s half the fun of Christmas.”
“Not everyone is like us, mom.” Addison said. “Maybe Celia is too busy with work, or other chores.”
Lillian waited, but Martin seemed unsure of what to say. He looked at his all-but-empty cup and spoke. “She has been busy helping her friend Sue revamp her apartment, but Celia doesn’t have a job.”
“I see. Well, there‘s many things to do this time of year. There’s charity work, social events, shopping and cooking. Does she have dinner planned? I’d love to help with some of the cooking. I can make dessert.”
Once again Martin seemed to become fidgety. He leaned back, resting one arm on the table. “I think we’re having the dinner catered. Celia isn’t really . . . ”
“Christmas diner catered. Really? Is there something wrong with the kitchen?”
“Yes. Celia doesn’t know where it is.” Martin laughed for the first time.
Addison laughed, but stopped when Lillian looked her way.
“I get the joke, but really, why would we cater Christmas dinner?”
“She doesn’t cook, mother. She wouldn’t have the first clue of what to do with a turkey.”
“I do. I can cook the main course. I’ve never heard of such nonsense. Addison and I can help.”
“Help?” Addison began. “It sounds like we’d have to do all of the work. Mom, there will be a lot of people to cook for.”
“Addison’s right. Celia thought it would be best this way. The family can spend time with each other and . . . ”
“We can spend time with each other in the kitchen, while baking pies, and cooking. I’ll see to it, dear. You won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll start preparing a list of things I’ll need when we—.”
“Mom,” Addison interrupted. “Don’t you think we should allow Celia to do things the way she wishes? After all, it’s her party and her family will be there too. Maybe they’re not the cooking type.”
Lillian looked at Addison. “I mean no disrespect, but this is Martin’s home, and I think it’s a shame not to have a good home-cooked meal for one's family. I won’t be asking anyone to help who doesn’t want to pitch in.”
“What about what Martin wants?” Addison kept her voice low but Lillian could hear something in her daughter’s tone. Something was going on with Addison and had been for a few weeks, but she had no idea what.
Lillian looked at Martin. Maybe she was coming on a bit strong. “Fine. I’ll leave this up to you, son. Do you want the dinner catered, or would you rather have a good home-cooked meal?”
Chapter 29
Changes
The shocked look on Celia’s face said it all. Martin knew she’d throw a fit so he wasn’t surprised by her expression. “She wants me to what?” Celia shook her head. “No way. I am not going to do the cooking for this many people. Your mother’s lost her ever loving –”
Martin shushed her and put his hands on her arms. “Keep your voice down. She’s here, you know.” Martin pulled the garage door that led into the house closed and his brow furrowed. “I don’t want her to hear us talking about this.”
Celia shook her head and stepped back. “I don’t care what she hears, and just for the record, I’m not cooking for anyone.” Celia pushed past Martin, aiming for the door, but he shook his head.
“You don’t have to cook. Neither does your family. But I’m not going to tell my mother that she can’t cook Christmas dinner. If you’re worried it won’t be satisfactory, there are no worries there. Matter of fact, it will more than likely be better than anything the caterers come up with.”
“Is that a jab at my choice for Christmas dinner? That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You think I should be cooking and cleaning. Well, I’m not that kind of a woman. What good is all of your money if you don’t use it to enjoy life?”
“I have never asked you to do anything around here, have I? Do I complain when you don’t lift a hand? Do I say anything that I had to hire full-time help to keep things running?”
“No, but I can tell by your tone you think I should be doing something.”
“Something, yes. I don’t expect you to clean a house of this size. I don’t even expect you to cook every day, but now and then it would be nice to eat something besides take-out. I’m tired of eating out.”
Martin knew deep down that they should have had this conversation earlier in the week. This party was a mistake. Shame Randi hadn’t come along a week earlier. Celia wasn’t ready to cave in yet. She began to plead her case again.
“I get tired of eating out too. But to be honest I don’t know how to cook a full-course meal. If you want fried eggs and ham I can handle that. But I am not up to cooking for a house full of people.”
Martin nodded. “You don’t have to do any of the cooking, and we can cater some of the meals, but not Christmas dinner. It’ll be fun. Everyone can pitch in.”
“Fun for you, maybe, but how will it look? I promised my family a wonderful Christmas. I didn’t invite them all over here to cook. We talked about this, and it was settled. Now you’re starting to change things. You can’t do that.”
Martin crossed his arms. “I see what you’re saying, but I’m sorry, the plans have changed. Your family can pitch in if they want. If not, we’ll manage.” Martin gave her a quick smile and walked past her, going to his motorcycle.
He hoped Celia would see things his way, give in, or just give up and go to bed, but she didn’t. She came closer, arms crossed, ready to have this out. Maybe staying single isn’t such a bad idea.
“I thought this was supposed to be our Christmas,” she began. “Our first Christmas together. What are you trying to do?”
“I’m trying to find some middle ground that will make everyone happy. My mother and sister have been working on a menu. They left it on the kitchen table. If you have any suggestions, let them know.”
“I’m not dating them.”
“No, but this is not just your party. It’s mine also.”
“Now you want to plan the party? I’ve been trying to get you to talk about this for weeks.”
“I know, but to be honest, I was just trying to avoid this conversation. People don’t cater Christmas dinner -- at least they shouldn’t.”
“Are you calling my family lazy?”
“I didn’t say anything like that.”
“No, but that’s what you’re saying just the same.”
“No, it’s not. I just told you the facts. People who are talented cooks do not find a need to cater a dinner.”
Celia shook her head. “I’m not going to discuss this anymore, and just so you’ll know, I’m not cooking, and neither is any of my family. It’s ludicrous in this day and age to try and cook for that many people when it’s just as easy to have the food prepared and brought in.”
Martin got up from beside his Harley. He stepped closer to Celia and mimicked her crossed arms. “If you don’t want to help that’s fine. I’m not changing my mind.”
“So you’re just taking her side in this.”
“If you want to call it that . . . yes. My mother is a great cook, and with the help of the maids she’ll handle everything, with or without your family's help.”
Martin wanted to smile but he didn’t, seeing that Celia wanted to say more, but that the truth was sinking in. In the end it was his home and his decision. If I want to bring in clowns and elephants, there isn’t a thing she can do about it.
Martin could see her spark fade as she stood looking at him, seeing a new truth she didn’t want to see. Martin wasn’t a cruel man and he felt sorry Celia, but for the first time in months she saw that she didn’t have him wrapped around her finger.
What could she say now? He turned, moving back to the bike. She could pout but he didn’t care. She couldn't deny him sex because they weren't sharing a bed anyway. That part of their life was over
.
Martin looked up, almost hoping she would threaten to pack up and leave. She was going, but only back inside the house. She had given up this battle. When will she see that she’s not only lost this battle, but that over the last two months she’s lost me too?
Chapter 30
Late Night
Randi turned off the radio as she drove through the gates of the Taylor mansion. As Emma had promised, the gates were open. She hated driving someone else’s car, but it had been Emma’s idea.
She parked the car, climbed out, and moved to the back seat. There he lay, the stray she’d named Bandit, looking kind of drunk from anesthetic, and sad.
Bandit, who was at least part Jack Russell, had needed to go to the vet. Emma had come to her just after six, asking if she’d take one of the dogs to the after-hours clinic.
The dog kept biting and chewing on a place on the back of its leg. Emma didn’t want it to get infected, and she promised Randi that she’d cover for her if she’d run this errand.
Emma mentioned that the two guests had gone out to dinner, and that for now, since everything on their lists had been taken care of, she wouldn’t be missed. It would be better than sitting around the house all evening trying to find something to do, so Randi jumped at the chance, and reluctantly took Emma’s car keys.
Randi was happy it was over and she was glad to be back. Had she known how long it would take she would have tried to talk Emma into going. She stuffed the car keys into her pocket, cringing over the fact that the household manager had needed to get her husband to come pick her up. Then again, this had been Emma’s idea.
Stifling a yawn, Randi hoped she could get Bandit into the house without anyone seeing her. She would keep him in her room overnight, and if need be, Emma said she’d take the dog to her house for a few days.
They’d taken turns trying to talk each other into adopting Bandit while they made plans to take him to the vet. Emma said she didn’t mind. Either way, she’d pay for the visit, but she had hinted that she was too old to be chasing after new pets.
Having a new friend around the house, or two, would be a nice change, but Randi wondered what her mother would say. They had a nice yard for the dogs to play in, but it would mean staying with her mother awhile longer, because right now she couldn’t afford a place that allowed pets on her salary.
As she looked down at the white-and-tan Bandit she knew he was growing on her. It would be hard to look into those big brown eyes and drive away.
She pushed the thought out of her mind, but knew sometime over the weekend she’d talk to her mom about the idea of taking on a new pet or two.
She started to lean into the car and get a grip on the dog, but she stopped. Bandit wasn’t that big, but he was heavy. She glanced up, looking at the locked garage door, and wondered what would be the best way to get the dog into the house.
Randi walked the few feet to the house, unlocked the side door, and after deciding it would be hard to squeeze in with Bandit in her arms, she reached in and pushed the button that would open the larger door. Cringing at the noise it made as it rose, Randi hurried to the car to get Bandit, hoping no one would come to investigate.
The dog was so dopey he didn’t seem to care that it took her a few minutes to get him. With him and the pee pads bundled in her arms he kept slipping, but she managed not to drop him. She glanced over her shoulder, vowing that she wouldn’t forget to come back and close the garage door.
Finally, with her on-again-off-again roommate's help; Bandit was lying on the bed, resting. Ann promised to not let him roll off while Randi went out to shut the garage door and get the water bowl, treats, and other items.
She’d gone shopping while waiting for Bandit to get out of surgery. She knew regardless of what her mother said that when she left this job, that Bandit and his companion would be going home with her.
She’d fallen in love with Bandit and the other pup. It was love at first sight. The two pups were inseparable, and Randi might even have to sneak Lady into her room, so she could see that her buddy Bandit was alive and well.
When Randi returned from the car with the bag of goodies, she found a changed room. Ann had moved Bandit to the floor but thoroughly covered the area around Bandit with pee pads and had arranged him on two pillows. She sat on the floor talking in a soft voice and rubbing Bandit behind the ear.
Randi joined Ann on the floor and they sat talking about the surgery, and how cute the dog was. After about thirty minutes of catching up, Ann went to bed and Randi went to the kitchen to get some cold water for Bandit.
She was quiet as she walked around. With the extra guests in the house, and since it was only just after midnight, she really expected to see someone. As she flipped on the kitchen light, a list on the table caught her attention.
After washing her hands and filling the water bowl she picked up the note. Her brow furrowed. It was a menu, and at the top of the page it said Christmas Dinner.
“I thought they were catering dinner?” Randi went through the list. It sounded good, but it also sounded like a lot of work. When she got to the bottom of the page she smiled. There in very nice handwriting was a personal note.
Celia, if you want to tweak this menu, please do, and don’t be offended. I know a catered dinner would work, but there is nothing like a home-cooked meal. Don’t worry, Addison and I will take care of everything.
Sincerely, Lillian
Randi couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t know if Celia had found the note yet, but when she did she would not be happy. Randi also knew that this would mean more work for her and Ann. Lillian and Addison might be great cooks, but there was no way two women could prepare that much food for close to a twenty guests.
Turning out the light, Randi went to her room. She was quiet, in case Ann was sleeping. She set the water by the dog and was about to get undressed when a thought crossed her mind. The dog's medicine -- she’d left it in the car. Also, the front gate was still open. She’d better go see if she could figure out how to close it.
She walked out the door and stopped in her tracks as she pulled the kitchen door closed behind her. The garage door stood wide open. She was sure she’d closed it.
She looked around. Something looked different, but what was it? Wow, if something had been stolen she would lose her job. Hurrying down the steps, she looked around. What had been in the garage? What was missing?
She looked back and forth, and then she slapped her hand over her mouth. She knew what was missing. As she looked at the empty spot, she shook her head. The Harley was gone, and it was all her fault.
Chapter 31
Midnight Ride
It didn’t matter if he worked five minutes or thirty, he always managed to get dirty in the garage. Martin ran through the shower and was drying off as he heard what he thought was the garage door going up. He wrapped a towel around his waist and peeked out.
A smile hit his lips and he closed the door quickly. Randi was walking up the steps that led into the kitchen, carrying one of those stray pups.
Something must have happened and one of them needed a trip to the vet. The dog was out like a light, hanging over her arms like a limp doll.
He finished drying, slipped into his socks, jeans, a white-T, and shoes. He’d managed to keep his hair dry and was ready to take the bike out for a spin. By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, the door was back down. No talking to Randi tonight. That was disappointing.
It would have been nice to have a chat with her. He still needed to give her that small gift. He had hoped to give it to her before she found out the truth, but with all of this company in the house that would be downright impossible.
Martin tried to push those thoughts out of his mind and picked up his helmet. Even when he wasn’t going far he wore protective gear, so he pulled it on and buckled it down.
A quick spin would do him good. The weather was warm and his mind was going too many different ways. A ride would help him to focus.
/> No need for a jacket, he thought as he straddled the bike. He backed it out of the garage, turned the key, and it started right up. He wouldn’t be gone long so he left the door open. He pulled out and off he went into the night.
He caught a glimpse of the other pup as he drove down the driveway. More than likely it would be inside by the time he got back. The pups, of course, brought Randi into his thoughts again.
He knew the thing to do would be to look her in the eye and rip off the Band-Aid. Just tell her, quick and painless. I’m Martin Taylor. What would she do? Slap him? Faint? Kiss him? That would be nice. Kissing Randi . . . that made him smile.
When the rabbit ran across the road in front of Martin, his mind went back to the road, the ride, and the feel of steel beneath him. The only thing that would be better would be Randi on the back, arms wrapped around him, feeling the excitement that only a ride on a Harley could bring.
Martin didn’t want to irritate his neighbors, because his Harley was not quiet, and it was a bit late, so he didn’t ride long, or far.
He came to the end of a four-way intersection, turned around and headed home. He paused at the entrance, taking the time to put in the code and close the gates. As he rode the bike up the driveway he smiled. Randi stood, hands on hips, watching him as he approached.
She barely gave him time to get the bike pulled into the garage and get his helmet off before she began to let him have it.
“You scared the daylights out of me. I thought someone stole Mr. Taylor’s bike. What are you doing out riding his bike at this hour?”
“What kind of maid leaves the gates standing wide open when coming back from a midnight run to the vet's office? And I was checking something about how the bike was running.” Her scowl disappeared quickly and she nodded.
“Touché. But I had no idea how to close the gates, and Emma had no idea it would take this long at the vet's office. I’ve never seen so many pets in one place.”
“No damage done, and I closed the gates.” Martin smiled, resting his helmet on his knee.