by Sandra Kitt
“Madison. Becca. Come over here,” Grace called to her children.
Becca skipped over and squeezed in front of Carter, and then she stood on tiptoe to peer into the showcase.
“I can’t see,” she complained.
Carter obliged by lifting her into his arms. Madison grew bored and walked away to a nearby water fountain. Grace kept an eye on him but joined Becca and Carter at the store window.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“It’s that time of year again,” Carter said.
Puzzled, Grace followed his gaze to the cutout red hearts, confetti and curled ribbons, which hit shoppers over the head with the reminder that Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.
“I want that,” Becca said, pointing with a small finger.
“That’s too expensive,” Carter replied, shaking his head.
“What’s she pointing to?” Grace asked, searching the display. She caught Carter’s gaze over the top of Becca’s head. He silently shrugged and raised his brows as if to say, what difference does it make?
Grace grinned and went back to examining the jewelry. She took in all the things a man could give a woman to show his love. Benson had never succumbed to such ploys.
“What do you want for Valentine’s Day?” Carter asked Grace as he set Becca back on her feet. The little girl immediately joined Madison at the water fountain.
“Nothing,” Grace said, waiting until the kids had caught up to her and Carter.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m serious,” Grace said, holding out her hand to her daughter.
“Are you telling me that your husband never did it up right on February 14?”
“He made up for it at Christmas, on our anniversary and on my birthday. That was fine by me,” she said, and it was true.
Still, Grace had a sudden and overwhelming sensation of isolation, almost abandonment. She distinctly recalled her last Valentine’s Day celebration with Benson. It had been three months before he’d suffered a fatal aneurysm. He’d gotten her flowers, and they’d gone out to dinner. But he’d spent the whole evening discussing his problems with the mayor’s staff. He’d taken a cell phone call and texted several messages of his own. It had not been a special night to her at all. But then, she’d always known about his intense focus on his career.
“Why are so you interested in how Benson and I spent Valentine’s Day?” Grace asked Carter.
“Just curious. Last year I wanted to send something to Marjorie. I realized that with Benson gone, there was no one to remember her. So, when I sent flowers to my mother in Virginia, I sent some to Marjorie as well. I know it’s been tough for her.”
“Is that why you sent me flowers and candy?”
Grace was a bit surprised by the intensity with which Carter returned her gaze before he finally responded.
“That was one of the reasons.”
Her stomach churned. She wasn’t going to ask what other reasons he had. “Well, it was very—”
“Romantic?” he asked with a smile.
“Nice,” she corrected.
He shook his head. “You say that like you thought I was either a confirmed bachelor or gay.”
She couldn’t smile at his attempt at humor. It would never enter her mind that Carter might be gay, especially since Benson had told her about some of Carter’s girlfriends and love affairs when they were in law school together.
And there was certainly something genuine about the comfort she’d received from his embrace that one time. She’d never forgotten.
While her own thoughts and questions were putting her through an emotional wringer, Grace absently consented when Carter asked if it was okay to get Madison and Becca ice cream. She declined his offer to get some for her as well.
After accepting his waffle cone, Madison raced to hold two recently vacated bistro tables and chairs so they could all sit down.
“What’s your idea of a romantic Valentine’s Day?” Carter asked Grace as he slowly consumed his ice cream. “What would really do it for you?”
Grace sighed. “Are we back to that again?” But she pensively gnawed her lip. “I don’t know if I should tell you. It’s going to sound indulgent. Foolish. Whiny.”
“I’ll let you know if it is or not.”
Grace gave him a crooked grin. She got over her shyness and decided to treat Carter’s question like a game of what-if.
“Well, first of all, I get to sleep late. Somebody else has the kids. There will be flowers all over the house. Inside my croissant, I’d find a pair of diamond ear studs....” Carter laughed at that. “In the refrigerator, a bottle of Perrier Joet champagne. The local spa would call to tell me I have an appointment for a massage, and they’re sending a car to pick me up. After that, we’re flown by helicopter to a secret retreat for three days and two nights of...” Grace stopped, remembering that her children were within earshot of her recitation. “You get the idea,” she concluded.
“Who’s the other person in the ‘we’ part?” Carter asked.
Grace reined herself in. Fantasy over. She was back at the mall with her kids, Carter, and a cast of thousands. She pursed her mouth. “I don’t know. I was just making it up.”
“Can I come with you?” Madison suddenly asked.
Carter grinned broadly. Grace glared at him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. Mommy was just pretending.” She felt Becca pulling on her arm.
“I wanna go home.”
“We’re leaving now,” Grace said, standing up and taking her daughter’s hand.
* * *
Once they all arrived back at Grace’s house, Carter became the sole and exclusive playmate of Madison and Becca. And while Grace was amazed and relieved that her children had taken so effortlessly to him, she couldn’t wait for Carter to leave.
It wasn’t so much that he’d gotten too comfortable too quickly in her children’s lives, but that Carter was insidiously burrowing into hers. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy his company, his bantering and his thoughtfulness. It was the other possibilities that could be part of the package. Every time her mind ventured into the unknown, Grace was pulled back to reality by two things. The first was the notion that she’d somehow been unfaithful to her late husband’s memory. The second was a fear of falling.
Without interruption, and with nothing else to keep her company but her own thoughts, Grace did chores. First, she did the laundry, and then she repaired a hole in one of Madison’s pants. All the while something was definitely happening inside her. It was a gradual recognition of her loneliness. It was a desire to live again, and to love.
“I guess I should have offered to help.”
Carter’s voice startled her, and she looked over her shoulder to find him standing in the doorway of her kitchen, hands in his pockets.
“You are helping. You’re keeping the kids from fighting and getting in my way. Where are they?”
“In the family room watching a DVD. Square Bob something.”
Grace couldn’t help laughing. “It’s SpongeBob SquarePants. Who won the chess match?”
“We didn’t actually play a game. I thought it wiser to just show Madison a few moves, see what he could do. Who taught him? I don’t remember Benson playing.”
“He didn’t. My father taught Madison.”
Carter was watching her fold small T-shirts belonging to her son. “I guess it’s true what my mom once said to me. A woman’s work really is never done. What do you do to relax?”
“Relax? What’s that?”
He nodded. “I get you. Look, I think I’m going to get on the road back to the city.”
She put a half-folded T-shirt on a pile and followed Carter into the front room, where he’d left his coat.
“Thanks for being so patient with the kids.”
“Thanks for letting me come to play with them.” He grinned.
Carter put on his leather coat but left it unbuttoned. “When can I see you again?�
�� he asked.
The question struck a nerve in Grace. She knew he wasn’t talking about being with her kids. “The next few weeks are going to be busy.”
He grinned knowingly, well aware that she had deliberately misunderstood. “Tell you what. I have to go look at some apartments the next time I fly in from Chicago. Can you come with me?”
“Call me when you get back,” she said coyly.
“Great. I’d like your opinion.”
“You might be sorry you asked.”
With his hand on the doorknob, he looked at her for a long moment. “I seriously doubt it.”
“Do you have to go?” Madison asked, wandering into the front room in his stocking feet.
“I’m afraid so. I have plans tonight, and I have to go get ready.”
Grace folded her arms across her chest and fixed her attention on the middle of Carter’s chest.
“Can you come back to see us again?” Madison asked.
“I hope so,” Carter said comfortably, watching Becca as she soon joined them, sucking two fingers and leaning against her mother’s side. Coming from the family room were the screechy, frantic sounds and dialogue of cartoon characters on the TV.
“Have a good trip back home to Chicago,” Grace said.
“New York is going to be my home,” he replied. Then he playfully pinched Becca’s nose. “Be sweet.” He turned to Madison and asked solemnly, “Is it okay if I kiss your mother goodbye?”
“Carter—” Grace started to object, but her disapproval was lost in Madison’s response.
The boy shrugged. “Sure. I don’t mind.”
“Madison...” she complained anew.
She barely had time to prepare herself when Carter stepped in front of her. She’d imagined something highly inappropriate. Her wild imaginings had already worked it out. But Carter’s kiss, light and affectionate, caressed her lips briefly and was done.
“I’ll call you before I leave the city,” he said.
He was gone before she could react.
“I’m hungry,” Becca announced.
“I’m going to do dinner right now, hon. Madison, please put your chess pieces away. And if you’re not going to watch that movie, turn it off.”
Madison knelt on the floor and swept together all the chessmen, putting them in a box. “Carter’s fun. I like him,” he said simply.
Grace grimaced ruefully to herself as she moistened her lips with her tongue.
What’s not to like?
Chapter 3
“Hi, it’s Grace. Can I help you?”
“You got a minute?”
Grace sighed. “I have a little more time than that for you, Marjorie, but I’m going into a meeting soon. Is everything okay?”
“As well as can be expected. I was wondering what you’re going to do in May for Benson’s anniversary?”
Grace, who was multitasking as she talked to her mother-in-law, furrowed her brow. “Benson’s anniversary?”
“Of his passing.”
“I don’t have any plans to celebrate, Marjorie,” she said smoothly.
“Good. ’Cause it’s no occasion to celebrate. I’m talking about recognizing the day, all of us visiting his grave.”
Grace quickly bit back her immediate reaction to Marjorie’s suggestion. “By all of us, I take it you want to include Madison and Becca.”
“Yes, I do. I think they need to show their respect.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t agree with you.”
“Benson was their father,” Marjorie defended firmly.
“The key word here is was. Don’t you understand that the children don’t remember Benson? They see his picture, even pictures of him with them as babies, but they don’t really make a connection. He’s just a man in a photograph.”
“That’s your fault. You could do more so Madison and Becca don’t forget who he is. It’s your responsibility as my son’s wife.”
Grace closed her eyes and rested her forehead in her hand, speaking patiently. “Marjorie, look. I’m raising my children, and I know very well what they need to know. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve sat them down to tell them all about Benson. I tell them stories about how he and I met, about Benson asking me to marry him and about what he did when each of them was born. They’re just stories to the kids right now.
“One day about a year ago, Becca comes home after preschool and asks me, what’s a daddy? She was having trouble with the concept, let alone attaching it to Benson. Now she knows that he’s died and gone away, but that means nothing to her because she never knew him to begin with. I don’t think I can force a memory that’s not there.”
“That’s all the more reason why I think you need to mark that day. It’s time she learned about him.”
Grace looked at the time. “Look, I’m sorry to cut you off, but we can finish this later. I have to go. I promise I’ll think about it, but I’m not fond of the idea.”
There was only silence for a moment before Marjorie finally responded.
“Have they met Carter?”
“Yes, they have. I told you he was coming out on Saturday. Don’t forget, Carter is Madison’s godfather. So why would I deny him a chance to see the children? They like him. You’ll be pleased to know that Carter told Madison a lot about what a good athlete Benson was, and how they became good friends.”
“That was nice of him,” Marjorie said grudgingly. “I still feel—”
“I know how you feel. I get it. If it’s not too late this evening, I’ll call you after the children are asleep.”
“Don’t forget that I go to bed myself at ten,” Marjorie said and hung up.
Grace replaced the phone, but instead of feeling angry at her mother-in-law’s imperious attitude, she felt consumed by guilt.
She had no desire to visit Benson’s grave, and even less interest in dragging her children out to stand over a granite marker in the ground with his name carved on it. She was not interested in playing the grieving widow, or in pretending that his death was an unbearable loss. Benson’s death had been hard at first for reasons that neither Marjorie nor anyone else could ever understand. But there was no point in revisiting the past.
Shame at her thoughts forced Grace out of her chair. She snatched up her folder of notes and headed out the office toward the meeting in a nearby conference room. She’d gotten as far as the office door when her phone rang again. She wavered between taking the call and leaving it to her answering machine. She looked at the time again. There was still five minutes to spare. She had been expecting a call.
But it was her father on the line.
“Hey, baby. Am I interrupting something?”
“Hi, Daddy. As a matter of fact, I’m about to go into a meeting. Is this important?”
“Yeah, but not urgent. It can wait. Am I going to see you and the children anytime soon?”
“Do you want to come over for dinner this weekend? Madison has some new chess moves, and he wants to try them out on you.”
Ward Mathison laughed in his booming voice. “Tell him to bring it on. Who’s he been playing with?”
“Carter Morrison. You remember him, right? He spent the day with us last weekend.”
“Carter Morrison,” Ward murmured. “Is that right?”
“Madison and Becca really took to him.”
“How ’bout yourself? What do you think of the man?”
“Did you want to talk to me about anything in particular?” Grace asked, ignoring her father’s question.
“Nothing that can’t wait ’til I see you. But some time soon, okay?”
“Now you’ve got me curious.”
He chuckled. “Now you’ll have to wait. Bye, baby. Call me when you can.”
This time Grace actually made it through the office door into the corridor when the phone rang again. This time she ignored it and went to her meeting. An hour later she was back in her office, listening to her voice messages, including one from Carter. He was just g
etting to his reason for calling when a staffer stopped by her office, knocked gently on the door, and announced that there was someone waiting to see her at the entrance. Carter’s voice message made it clear that he was on his way to her office and was going to take her to lunch.
Grace sat for a moment, processing the unexpected visit, analyzing the past and present, and speculating on the future. The very first thought that came to her was the lingering impression of Carter’s good-night kiss. In truth, it could hardly be called a kiss. But she still remembered it. She wondered at the wisdom of encouraging a relationship with Carter, even for the sake of Madison, for whom, she admitted, she couldn’t have picked a better role model. But Carter was part of the past as well, and she wanted to be done with that. At least, she kept telling herself that.
He was in conversation with the security guard when she arrived at the entrance. As she approached, Grace noticed that he was dressed less casually than when he visited the weekend before but was definitely dressed down from business attire. He was wearing a winter overcoat, and a long chenille scarf was wound rakishly around his neck. At his side was a packed folding garment bag made of black leather, with numerous pockets and straps. He looked so worldly. He seemed so together. He was so...
“Hi,” Grace said, drawing his attention.
“Hi, yourself. I was hoping you’d be free. Sorry I couldn’t give you more warning about getting together. I’m leaving a day early for Chicago.”
“It’s a busy day, but I can do lunch.”
“My treat,” Carter said, lifting his bag and walking with her out to the street.
“You better believe it,” she responded tartly, making him laugh. “Where would you like to go?”
“Downtown,” he said, walking to the curb, where the town car was again double-parked.
“Downtown? Why? There are plenty of good places a few blocks from here.”
“I want to show you something first. It won’t take long, and then we can find a place.” He opened the passenger door and held it for her.
Grace didn’t move. She was puzzled and more than a little suspicious. “What’s going on?’
