The Champagne Sisterhood

by Chris Keniston

  “I’m sorry. I had some business to take care of.” Anna moved around to the empty seat by his sister, Cheryl. “It was very nice of you both to come. Thank you.”

  “Nonsense. Nothing to thank me for. Tom was underfoot at our house as often as his own. Especially after all that nasty business. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else at a time like this.”

  “I suppose that makes sense, Tom and Mark being childhood friends and all.” Anna set her fork down on the table and reached for the mashed potatoes.

  “He was a good boy. He deserved more growing up.” His mom pursed her lips and shook her head.

  Anna glanced across the table. A spoonful of mashed potatoes hung midair. She seemed to be analyzing his mother’s words. “I don’t really know much about Tom before he married Babs,” she finally said.

  “That’s probably because the way Tom talked he didn’t have much of a life before Babs.” Kat smiled at the memories, not having noticed his mother’s expression.

  “That’s true.” Anna dropped a dollop of potato on her dish.

  Much to Mark’s relief, the conversations rolled easily from one thing to another. His mom’s mood lifted as she rambled on about how much Marcia had grown. Then Kat managed to get Brad talking about some of his trips with the Peace Corps. She oohed and aahed at just the right moments when he mentioned volunteering to help clean up after the Tsunami. By the time the table was cleared and the kitchen cleaned, Mark was ready to collapse on any flat surface and sleep for a week.

  At least with his entire family visiting he didn’t have to keep Marcia constantly entertained. Except for any time Anna, Kat or Erin came near her, she seemed perfectly happy. Taking a sip of the coffee his mom had brought him in the living room, he wondered what it was about these three women that so agitated the little girl.

  “It’s past my bedtime.” Margaret Lambert pushed to her feet. “Tomorrow’s going to be a very long day.”

  “I’m ready to drop too. You can ride with me.” Brad nodded at his mom.

  “I’d better get going too.” Kevin looked to his sister. “Want to ride with me or Brad?”

  “What about Mark?” Cher turned her attention to her oldest brother.

  “I’m staying here tonight.”

  “Works for me,” Kat nodded, a look of relief washing over her face.

  “Me too,” Erin added with a smile.

  Cher raised a single brow in his direction and Mark tried not to sigh. Not her too. It was bad enough Brad was needling Mark every chance he got. The last thing Mark needed now was for his sister to start speculating on his motives as well. “Marcia woke up in the middle of the night yesterday. She hasn’t warmed up to the ladies yet. Staying here is the best way to guarantee we all get a decent night’s sleep.”

  Kevin’s gaze slid from one sibling to another. When his eyes settled on his mom, she gave him a quick nod, and without a word, he discreetly pulled out his wallet and handed Brad a ten dollar bill. Mark didn’t bother to ask what that was all about. He didn’t want to know.

  From across the room Anna simply glowered at him. He didn’t know exactly why, but she wasn’t happy and he was pretty sure it was his staying the night she wasn’t happy about.

  She shouldn’t be annoyed. Anna added a set of sheets to the pillow and blanket she already held in her arm. After all, she was the one who told him to stay tonight. More accurately, she shouted at him to stay the night.

  It just irked her that he didn’t trust her with Marcia. If her mom knew enough to give the baby Benadryl, then Anna couldn’t have been the only woman in the world to try it. She kicked the door to the linen closet shut with her foot.

  “She wouldn’t stop crying,” Anna mumbled down the stairs. “It’s not my fault. I tried. But when she got stuck on the mmm’s, I knew she wanted her mother.”

  “I’m sure she did.” Mark reached for the pile of linens.

  Anna hadn’t noticed him standing in the foyer. She hadn’t even realized she’d been talking out loud. “I didn’t know what to do,” she muttered.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stay last night.” He stood perfectly still, his hands surrounding the stacked bedding. He didn’t move back, didn’t take possession. He just stared into her eyes.

  “You’re going to be awfully uncomfortable on the sofa.” It was a silly thing to say. Any idiot with eyes could see he wouldn’t fit comfortably. Mark had to be at least six foot two, maybe three. At that height he probably didn’t sleep stretched out comfortably anywhere.

  “Right now, I could sleep standing up.” He still didn’t move.

  She didn’t want to let go. Hanging onto the pillow and sheets made her feel somehow connected, and for the life of her she didn’t know why it mattered so much. “I wish there was another bedroom for you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He seemed to suddenly realize how ridiculous it was to be standing at the bottom of the stairs sharing a pile of linen. His face flushing a mild shade of pink, he tightened his grip on the items, and stepped away from the staircase giving Anna room to descend the last step.

  Inside the living room she turned and pulled a sheet off the top of the pile Mark held.

  “I can do that.” He set the stack on the coffee table.

  “It’s the least I can do since you won’t let me sleep on the couch.”

  “No. You’re already settled upstairs. No sense upsetting the lineup any more than we have to.”

  “I still feel bad.” Anna tucked the sheet under one end of the sofa while Mark folded it under the other.

  “Don’t. I can finish.” He reached for the top sheet at the same time she did.

  She should pull her hand away. She knew she should, but his hand resting on hers seemed like the most normal thing in the world. Blinking once, then twice, she shifted her gaze from his hand to his eyes. They were such an amazingly deep blue. She’d never known anyone with eyes that unique shade.

  Just when she thought she might say something stupid, Mark let go of her hand and the sheet.

  “I’ll get the pillowcase,” he mumbled.

  Anna nodded. Flicking the sheet open, she wondered what was happening. He looked as confused as she felt. Or was she reading something into nothing? So they both reached for the sheets at the same time. So he had big strong hands. Most men did. And what if that felt warm and comforting? Right about now any woman would appreciate a little extra support.

  “I’m sorry about this morning,” he said, stuffing the thick pillow into its case.

  “What?” Anna looked up.

  “This morning.” Mark dropped the pillow on the sofa. “I didn’t mean to overreact. I know it was hard on you and the antihistamine wasn’t really a big deal. I just worry about her.”

  Anna brushed her hand over the sheet, looking up at him from the corner of her eye. “So do I.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m especially sorry for overreacting. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “My feelings weren’t hurt. I was tired and a little angry myself.” She straightened and took a step back.

  Mark tipped his head, lifting his brows at her.

  “Okay, maybe I was a little hurt you didn’t trust me.”

  “That’s just it. I do trust you.” Mark backed away from the sofa.

  “Then why are you staying tonight?”

  “You told me to?”

  She shot him a pointed glare and shook her head.

  Mark let out a short chuckle and flashed a grin that made her toes tingle. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that Marcia still isn’t comfortable with any of you, and if she does wake up again, it’s not fair to leave you holding the bag two nights in a row.”

  She studied him for a moment. He seemed to be sincere. As a matter of fact, his eyes seemed to be pleading with her to believe him, and she did, she decided. At least she wanted to. She wanted to be the person Babs thought she was. She owed Babs that much. She had to learn to take care of her best friend’s daughter. She j
ust had to.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I’ve got it here somewhere.” Anna flipped through the mess of papers scattered across the tiny kitchen desk. “I just had it,” she mumbled into the phone pinched between her ear and shoulder.

  “I can fax you another copy.”Anna could hear Liz’ impatient tone.

  “No. I know it’s here. I went over the papers late last night. Signed them all. Faxed them to you before I went to bed. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get to anything for most of the day today. We have to leave for the funeral in...” She glanced up at the clock. Damn less than an hour and she was still in her bathrobe. She turned her attention back to the first pile of papers she’d already searched through. “I know it’s here.”

  “My brothers are on...” Mark stopped short at the kitchen doorway with Marcia in his arms.

  Anna momentarily held her finger up for him to wait. “Here it is.” She pulled out the updated purchase order. She’d been knee deep in revisions for the new women’s accessories line when the Italy shipment had arrived and blown her well-planned time line into the next millennium.

  “Excuse me,” Mark interrupted. “We’re almost out of diapers. Erin went to the store for more, Kat’s still in the shower, and I need to get dressed. Can you keep an eye on Marcia for a few minutes?”

  She nodded at him, stuck the page in the old thermal paper fax machine, and punched the numbers on the keypad.

  Mark sat Marcia in the highchair. “Okay. She’s all set,” he whispered. “I won’t be long.”

  Anna gave him another curt nod as he stepped through the doorway into the hall then turned her attention to the fax machine. “Okay, Liz. I’m sending it off now. You should be getting it any second. I’m also going to send you a copy of the new schedule I worked out for Bruno.”

  “When the heck did you find time to do that?” Liz asked.

  Anna glanced over at Marcia happily fingering the bowl of cheerios in front of her. “Somewhere between my fifth and tenth cup of coffee around oh-dark thirty this morning.”

  Shifting the stacks of paper to one side of the desk, she picked out the file folder with the new schedule in it and caught a flash of pink movement from the corner of her eye. Before her mind could fully register the implication of a miniature person in pink jammies climbing out of her high chair, the tray collapsed under the weight, and Marcia tumbled through the air.

  “Oh my God!” Anna dropped the phone and bolted toward the baby.

  The piercing scream as Marcia hit the tile floor echoed in her head alongside the drumbeat of her racing heart and the thunderous pounding of Mark’s footsteps rushing down the stairs.

  The kitchen felt a mile long. Arms outstretched from the second she realized the baby was falling, Anna scooped Marcia up and ran into the hall, and into Mark.

  “What the hell happened?” he asked, scanning the baby and her for any indication of what caused the crying child to scream.

  Anna handed over the baby. “She fell.”

  “Fell? From the high chair?”

  She couldn’t tell if it was anger or fear she heard in his tone. She took a deep breath before speaking, “I think she was trying to climb out. Or maybe she was trying to reach the box of Cheerios. Or maybe follow you. I don’t know!”

  Mark’s hand ran over Marcia’s head, down her arms, along her back. “She doesn’t seemed to have cut herself.” His voice sounded steadier. He ran his hand along her head again, slowing at the rosy blotch forming on her left temple. “But it looks like she hit her head when she landed."

  “Oh, God.” Anna clutched her abdomen, pressing on the searing pain shooting clear through to her back. Her other hand flew to her mouth hoping to stem her stomach’s urge to upchuck the two pots of coffee she’d drunk. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled into her hand.

  Mark ran a finger back and forth in front of Marcia’s face and Anna saw the tension on his face slip away. “I don’t think it’s anything serious,” he said.

  “Not serious?” Anna wished she had a third hand to swipe away the tears dripping down her cheek. “I practically dropped her on her head. On the tile floor!”

  “It’s okay, sweetie.” Mark patted the baby now curled into his shoulder. When her jagged cries slowed to staggered whimpers, he leveled his gaze on Anna. “Kids are tough. Babies fall from beds, grocery carts, and yes, from high chairs.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. What else could she say? I shouldn’t have been more concerned with schedules than with my goddaughter. I should’ve been watching her, not a fax machine. Or maybe I have no business taking care of a baby in the first place?

  Snuggled safely in his arms, Marcia’s breathing grew steady. Only an occasional deep breath hinted at her earlier tears.

  “See. Everything will be just fine.” The soothing words meant to calm the frightened baby, flowed over Anna’s raw nerves like a blanket of warm honey.

  If only she could believe him.

  Mark scanned the pews, searching for any sign of them. Slowly he moved up the aisle, pausing, looking twice, but nothing. He shouldn’t have worried. It would be all right.

  Partway through the service, the congregation stood and he looked over his shoulder, scanning his surroundings once again. Still nothing.

  As they left the church, his gaze wandered one last time to every nook and cranny. Again, nothing.

  “Are you all right?” Anna asked, stepping past him to climb into the limousine.

  “What kind of a question is that?” Mark slid into the backseat beside her.

  “You seem to be looking for something, or someone, but I get the feeling you’re hoping not to see it.”

  “Just distracted.” He examined every car parked along the side of the road. Empty, all of them.

  Anna looked at Erin who nodded her head. “Mark, what is it?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s nothing. Really.” He had to get a hold of himself. The last thing he wanted was to give Anna and the others one more thing to deal with. “Really,” he repeated, patting her knee. It was almost over. Soon they’d be home free.

  At the graveside service he tried to be a bit more discreet, cautiously scanning the surroundings. Nearly convinced there was nothing to be concerned over, his heart rate had almost returned to its normal steady rhythm when the words ashes to ashes, dust to dust registered in his mind. He turned his attention to the pastor. Searching for ghosts had proven to be a formidable distraction. Too bad it hadn’t lasted a few minutes longer.

  Everything around him seemed to fade into the distance. Only the two coffins loomed ominously in front of him. This was it. There would be no more dinner at Tom and Barb’s. No more treks to the beach. None of Barb’s absurd matchmaking, and soon, not even Marcia to remind him of what used to be.

  Anna finally stopped worrying about Marcia. Apparently Mark was right. Falling out of the high chair had been more traumatic for her than for her goddaughter. She’d especially begun to feel much better once Mark’s mother told her about the time, as a small infant, he’d rolled off the sofa and landed on his head.

  Now Anna had something new to worry over. On the other side of the room, Kat and Brad were getting better acquainted. He must have been telling some story. He raised his hands, shrugged his shoulders, rolled his eyes and Kat burst out laughing.

  Anna couldn’t help shake her head at the scene unfolding across the crowded room. How many times would she have to watch history repeat itself? Something about Kat attracted men of every shape, size and IQ. Unfortunately for Kat, they often were too young, too old, or two timing.

  “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Erin leaned against Anna.

  “Probably.”

  “Wanna flip to see who’s going to go break that up?” Erin held up a quarter.

  Anna laughed. It had been so long since they’d been together at the onset of one of Kat’s disastrous relationships. In an odd sort of way she felt nineteen again. “Maybe we’re being overly concerned. Just because
Brad is a few years younger than her doesn’t mean he’s another Danny Haskell on the prowl.”

  Danny had been Kat’s most recent escapade. Only twenty-five years old, Anna and Erin had been a little skeptical, but Kat seemed perfectly contented with her own little Ashton Kutcher. How could any of them have known the kid had ambitious artistic delusions and expected Kat to be his patron providing food, housing and entertainment in exchange for cheap sex and crappy paintings. “And we know he’s not in another relationship.”

  “No, this probably isn’t the same thing,” Erin agreed. “Brad’s from a nice family. He’s good with kids. Never married. Must be at least somewhat responsible if he’s going for a post graduate degree. Takes world issues seriously, willing to take off for unknown parts of the world, sacrificing himself for the sake of others at the drop of a hat. Clearly appreciates a good-looking woman. And by the way...” A suspicious twinkle shone in her eye. “Did I mention he told me my eyes sparkle like the green pastures of bonnie Ireland on a sunny day after a morning dew?”

  “Heads,” Anna said flatly.

  Grinning, Erin nodded and flipped the coin. “Heads. She’s all yours.”

  Anna made her way through the few people still gathered to pay their respects. Margaret Lambert had been right. It felt like all of San Francisco had taken the morning off to attend the funeral. There wasn’t much left of all the goodies she’d brought with her from Sacramento, but the guests had besieged them with enough baked ham and macaroni salad to feed northern California for a month.

  “I’m not intruding, am I?” Anna nudged her way into the private conversation, glad to see Brad take a step back.

  “Not at all.” He smiled. “How are you holding up? Do I need to round Mark up and start clearing out the invasion?”

  Anna shook her head. “When it’s time to go to the lawyer’s, your mom is going to take over as hostess, and the rest of us are going to slip out the back door.”

  “Ah, that sounds like my brother’s strategy.”