Second Thoughts (10 page)

She nodded. “Quite well.”

A dreamy look came over him. “Haven’t had a decent home-cooked meal since my wife died.”

She looked back. “Oh, I—”

He shook his head and waggled his hand, warding off her words. “Five years ago, cancer, no kids.” Then, as if hearing himself, he made a rueful face. “I just explained my whole life in six words.” His expression, of quiet acceptance and lonely pain, cut straight through to Connie’s heart.

Looking embarrassed, he got to his feet. He was so big he absolutely dwarfed Connie. “I’ll see if I can give Uncle Dare a hand. Since I haven’t been much help with the babies.”

Somewhat warily—the aura of temper surrounding Derek was close to palpable—Moose approached the kitchen. Derek glanced up, acknowledging him, then returned his attention to the sizzling bacon. A bowl of eggs sat on the counter.

“Do you know how to make omelets?” Moose asked hopefully.

Derek looked up, nodded. “You want omelets, I’ll make them.”

Max passed Connie on his way to the kitchen. It seemed he took care to avoid her eyes. “I’ll do the toast while you cook the eggs,” he told Derek. But it was evident in his manner that he wasn’t backing down from anybody but Connie. He gave Derek a look that dared him to say something. Derek didn’t.

“With cheese?” Moose asked. There was a little boy’s delight in the big man’s face.

“Sure.” It seemed Derek’s mood was easing, degree by degree. “You want to dig out the cheese?”

“It’s just slices,” Moose said. “But we can cut them up with a knife. And I think we’ve got an onion,” he added, rummaging through the refrigerator. “I can dice it. I know how to do that. And we should have a slice or two of ham left. It’s the sandwich kind, but we can cut that up, too.”

Connie stood at the entrance to the hall with Abbie in her arms, watching and listening to the teamwork. She had no doubt that among the three of them, an excellent meal would be produced.

“Since you’re the cook,” Max said to Derek after breakfast, “you also get to do the grocery shopping.” He stooped to put a skillet away in a bottom cabinet. The three men were sharing kitchen cleanup, just as they’d worked together to
make the meal.

Connie had got the twins and Christopher as presentable as possible with their limited supplies. Chris had only frowned at her once, when she’d applied toothpaste to his finger and insisted that he brush his teeth. Then Petey decided he didn’t need his toothbrush either, and they’d gone through half a tube before Connie captured it and carried it out of the bathroom.

She sat in the upholstered easy chair, the tube of toothpaste in her lap, one eye and ear on the twins as they attempted to climb the sofa, and the other eye and ear on the trio in the kitchen. Connie doubted either of the babies could get all the way up there on his or her own, yet she didn’t trust them not to. Petey and Chris, each with clean teeth and bright smiles, had gone outside with a collection of action figures.

“You go with Moose,” Max told Derek, “and—”

“How come I get him again?” Derek asked. “He might be getting tired of me.”

“Or vice versa,” Moose said mildly.

Max gave Derek a level look. “You get him because you might be able to take me, one on one,” he explained candidly. He didn’t appear bothered by the thought. “But I don’t think you can take him. So you get Moose, and Connie goes with me.” He looked toward the drawer that held the empty gun. “She’s formidable enough,” he added under his breath.

Connie looked at the tube of toothpaste. She didn’t feel very formidable.

Max returned to the day’s agenda. “Aunt Connie and I will take the van. The neighbors are used to it and shouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. We’ll go to the kids’ house to get what they need. Whatever you want, Uncle Dare, tell her now.”

“Just bring my whole suitcase,” Derek said, unruffled. “I never unpacked.”

Connie nodded, still staring at the toothpaste. She wondered how he could look so crisp when he hadn’t even bothered to unpack. Did the clothes make the man, or had he somehow managed to turn that around? “Okay,” she said. “Where—”

“Under the cot. And bring back the cheese grater and a colander.” He paused, then added, “Too bad you can’t pack up the microwave.”

“What’s a colander?” Max asked.

Derek gave him a curious look but didn’t respond.

“It drains noodles and stuff,” Moose explained. “I asked for lasagna for tonight.”

Derek ran his hand over his beard stubble. “And check the bathroom. I don’t know if I left my razor in there or if I put it away. And my toothbrush is in there, too. The red one.”

Connie made a mental note to bring back all the toothpaste she could find.

“Do you want to take the twins or Chris?” Max asked.

“Chris,” Derek said quickly.

Good, Connie thought.

“Then you might as well take Petey, too. And let them choose a treat.”

Once plans were concluded, Connie and Max each carried a baby out to the van and fastened them in their seats. Foremost in her mind was the thought of a luxurious shower and a fresh change of clothing once they returned to the farmhouse.
As she put the key in the ignition, she realized with a mental start that she was no longer afraid of the situation but had accepted it and their captors. And at some point between last night and this morning, Derek had apparently arrived at the same frame of mind.

As she sat still behind the wheel
, mulling things over, she became aware of Max watching her. He seemed wary with her inaction, puzzled and suspicious. She shrugged at him, turned the key, got the van in motion, and drove out of there.

She put the babies in their cribs while she packed, furnishing them with toys, and was grateful not to get any complaints. Max kept a close eye on her as she chose their things, but she ignored him. She continued on into the kitchen.

When she pulled open the drawer to get the cheese grater, her gaze fell on the cellular phone. She no longer feared her captors, but neither did she like being a captive. Wondering what her chances were of casually adding the phone to the box of supplies, she glanced at Max. His gaze was also on the instrument, then his eyes coolly met hers and she gave up that idea. She closed the drawer and found the colander in an upper cabinet.

“Oh, that’s what it is,” Max said. “We used to have one of those. Petey used it at the stream, panning for gold, so I put it in with the fishing gear.”

Connie wondered what they used to drain spaghetti, but she didn’t ask. Maybe they never cooked it? Even she cooked spaghetti. She bought the sauce in a little deli container in the supermarket, but she boiled the noodles all by herself.

The light on the telephone recorder was blinking, indicating a message. Max gestured for her to attend to it.

“Hi, Connie,” Kristy’s voice said, disappointment evident in it. “I’m so sorry we missed you. And, oh boy, are we ever missing the kids. Hawaii is as gorgeous as it was ten years ago, and the time on our own is great…and yet it’s not. We really are missing our little guys. Tell them how much we love them. And, well, we’ll see you Thursday. Love…and bye.”

Connie’s eyes misted at the yearning in Kristy’s voice. Then she looked at Max. He gave her a matter-of-fact nod. “You’ll be back by Thursday, and we’ll be long gone.” As she continued to watch him, he frowned, then fidgeted. “What?” he asked.

“I’m curious. A whole lot curious. What did Hayworth steal from you that’s so important you’re risking armed robbery and kidnapping to get it back?”

His gaze left hers to light upon the cabinets, the counter, the
n the window. “Lawn needs mowing.”

She didn’t allow the evasion.
She leaned against the counter and folded her arms.

“Big yard. Must be nice for the kids.” His gaze remained on the window, and hers remained on him. Finally he looked at her, took in a breath and let it out. “A comic book,” he said, and the instant he spoke, it seemed that a sizable chip planted itself on his shoulder.

She drew her eyebrows close together. “A comic book?”

“Yeah. A SteelMan comic book.”

In the long silence that followed, she pushed her tongue against her lower teeth. That was a bad habit her dentist had warned her about. She bit her bottom lip instead, then said, “I’ve got to be missing something important here.”

“It’s a collector’s item,” he said defiantly
. “And it’s worth a lot of money. It was an early one, published in 1940 before the war. My dad bought it when he was just a kid and didn’t even know he still had it until he was going through things when his mom died. It was the only thing of value he had, and it was supposed to help me take care of Petey.”

Frowning in concentration, Connie studied him. He squirmed while still standing, then sat on one of the tall stools and rested his elbows on the counter. He looked elaborately around the kitchen. “You about through in here?”

So that was all the information she was going to get. For now.

“Yes, I’m through with the kitchen.”

He followed her into Christopher’s room. “I’ll pack for Chris,” she said. “Will you get Derek’s suitcase?” She pointed under the cot, then crossed the room to investigate dresser drawers.

She left her own packing for last. In the master bedroom, Kristy had cleared a drawer for Connie and given her a section of the closet. Max waited in the doorway for her, his attention on the picture gallery of the kids hanging on the wall. The twins sounded like they were getting restless. Their jabbering was turning into complaining, and something hit the wall with a thump.

Connie stared at her nightgowns. She’d only brought two with her and didn’t have to hold them up to know what they looked like. One didn’t even reach mid thigh. The other one was longer but so shear she needed a slip to wear under it. She left them both in the drawer.

* * *

Dinner that evening was another joint effort. While Derek put the casserole together, Moose worked on a salad and Max prepared garlic bread. The apprentice cooks asked about the order of ingredients, how to make homemade salad dressing, and the spreading consistency of margarine versus butter. Connie wondered if any one of the three was aware of how well they worked together.

She tended to the hungry twins, allowing them enough dry Cheerios to sate them until the lasagna was ready, but not enough to harm their appetites. There was a trick to this that Connie hadn’t yet mastered. She thought yearningly about the ease of baby food, but both kids had turned their noses up at that stuff a long time ago.

Petey had dug games out of his closet, and he and Christopher were sprawled on the rug in the family room, involved in an intense session of Chutes and Ladders. It’d quickly become evident that they interpreted the rules differently, however, and Connie was hoping she wasn’t going to have to referee.

Derek saved her when he placed the steaming casserole on the table. “Chris, it’s time to put that away and wash your hands.”

“Okay, soon as I—”

“Now, Chris.”

“You, too, Petey,” Max said.

Petey and Chris exchanged looks, but neither moved. They were similarly dressed in t-shirts and jeans. Petey’s shirt had a picture of Bart Simpson on it, and Christopher’s declared that he was the world’s greatest kid.

Noting her nephew’s resistance, Connie felt perversely satisfied that the uncle and nephew honeymoon had come to an end. She spooned noodles and meat onto two small salad plates, cut everything into little pieces, and then spread it out so it’d cool faster. Once they smelled the food, the babies hurried over, settled themselves on opposite sides of their aunt, and complained about how slow she was.

Derek straightened and looked toward the corner garage. “Chris,” he said in a warning tone.

“Petey,” Max said. His tone matched Derek’s.

Petey and Chris sighed in defeat. “Okay,” they said in unison, each voice carrying a shade of longsuffering resignation.

Because it wasn’t possible to safely seat the twins at the table, they’d sat on the floor last night, their plates between their feet, and had eaten with their aunt’s help. Tonight, however, once the lasagna was sufficiently cooled, she found Moose already on the floor between the two babies. He’d even managed to direct their attention away from their hunger pangs.

“You hold it like this,” he told Andy, placing a spoon in his pudgy fist. Abbie stared at hers, and then her brother’s, probably trying to decide which one was the best one.

Connie smiled, gave the kids their plates without comment, then heaped salad and lasagna on another dish for Moose. What struck her about the scene was how natural it looked; there was nothing whatsoever ridiculous about the huge moose of a man sitting between the two babies.

Since the men had prepared dinner, she volunteered to do dishes. “Too bad I couldn’t have packed up the dishwasher,” she muttered. Max offered to help; she washed and he dried.

Derek and Moose found a baseball game on TV, but it was a runaway and they quickly tired of it. They joined Petey and Chris at the corner garage. The two boys must’ve decided on their own that Chutes and Ladders was too contentious.