Fools Rush In Page 23

  At home, Justine was having similar concerns. Her euphoria of the previous afternoon had begun to ebb, and guilt of a measure such as she’d never experienced had sunk into her. How could she justify having gone to him when she lived a charade that would bring him pain? She could tolerate his anger, but not his disgust when he came to the false conclusion that she’d made love with him as a safeguard against his firing her after learning that she was Tonya’s birth mother. But how could she pull back? He’d taught her the lesson of love, whetted her appetite, and the thought of him sent her blood racing and her mouth watering for more of him. She walked to her bedroom window and looked out at the last of the gray November day. I’m his daughter’s nanny, not his lover. It would be business as usual. She couldn’t expect or justify more. The phone rang as the front door opened.

  “Hello.” She waited, but no sound came fro the other end.

  “Was that another call from our mystery man?”

  She nearly dropped the phone. “Duncan, stop frightening me.”

  When he leaned forward and kissed her beside her mouth, she stared at him, trying to read him, and hoping that was his way of setting their course.

  “Maybe we ought to keep the answering machine on, and you listen to the voice before picking up. First chance I get, I’ll check those letters you gave me and see if I can get a clue.”

  She thanked him and attempted to pass him, but he stopped her. “I hope you got along all right today. I managed to get my work done, but I’m having trouble with what to do about us. I don’t want to walk away from what we found, but I can’t embrace it. At least not yet. Can you tell me how you feel about it?”

  She should have known that he’d face it head on and that he’d behave with honor and considerateness “My feelings are similar to yours. I didn’t act impulsively. Emotionally, I’m…well, I’m ready for it, but intellectually, I am not. So we’re in agreement? You’re my employer, and nothing more.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not quite that good at fooling myself, but basically, let’s be good friends and keep everything else at bay.”

  Her smile must have pleased him, for a crinkle beneath his wonderful, reddish-brown eyes soon blossomed into a full grin. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and she knew he’d begun his trial of self-control.

  By some miracle, they managed to maintain a platonic relationship for the next few days, though she couldn’t get used to the strangeness of it. Yet, with a peculiar contentment, she concentrated on her column and her child. Tonya loved watching the flames that danced over the logs in the fireplace, so she had begun reading to her in the living room. Several evenings after she and Duncan had made their pact, she sat there with Tonya and read aloud Emerson’s Eldorado. Tonya didn’t like nursery rhymes, but loved long poems with a pronounced rhythm. She clapped her hands and tried to hum the “tune.”

  “How do you do that?” Duncan, who had observed them from the doorway, asked her. “She’s a baby, but she loves these poems you read to her.”

  Careful, she cautioned herself, because she could so easily become the psychologist. “She enjoys the music, the lilt. When she begins to talk, she may remember the words, too.”

  He walked over, reached down, and took the child from her. “Whose baby are you?”

  He’d asked Tonya that question often since she’d been there, but this time his little game cut her to the quick, for it was the first time Tonya had answered him. “Daddy,” she sang out. Justine had to lower her gaze so that he couldn’t see her pain.

  Still holding Tonya, Duncan stepped into the hall to answer the phone. “It’s for you, Justine.”

  Who would call her at seven in the evening? Maybe Banks or her godfather. She took the phone from him. “Hello.” After listening, she said, “Sorry, Warren, I’m busy tonight.”

  Duncan looked at her, his dark face devoid of expression. Then a mask settled over it, a veil of pain powerful and intense, electrifying like the sun going down. He started toward Tonya’s room, reversed himself, walked over, and handed the child to her. She thought he looked from Tonya to her and back again and thanked God that she wore her glasses.

  “Is there any reason why you wouldn’t want to go to Frederick with Tonya and me Thursday? That’s turkey day, and Saturday is my mother’s birthday. She’ll be sixty-five. She wants you to come, and I told her I’d bring you.”

  She longed to go, to be with him and her child on that special holiday, but as an outsider…“Thanks, but it’s a family holiday, and I—”

  He held up his hand to stop her. “I want you to come with us. What kind of Thanksgiving do you think I’ll have knowing you’re here alone? Besides, Mama and Leah are expecting you.” He tweaked her nose. “You’ll enjoy it. Will you come?”

  “All right.”

  “And you’re off duty from Wednesday night until Sunday morning. Got it?”

  Oh, how she loved this wonderful man. If only she could open her soul to him and pour out everything. Everything. “Thanks. I’ll…Thanks.”

  “Mama, this is Justine.”

  Justine bowed slightly in deference to his mother and extended her hand but, to his amazement, his reserved mother opened her arms and enveloped Justine in a warm embrace.

  “I’m so glad you’ll be with us this holiday, Justine. I want you to feel at home here.”

  Justine seemed taken aback at his mother’s reception, and she showed her pleasure in a warm smile, her beautiful grayish-brown eyes sparkling. “Thank you, Mrs. Banks. Is this generosity a family trait? I’ve noticed it in Duncan and Banks, and now you.”

  “I see my daughter’s had you understand what her real name is. Next time I have to write her a letter, I think I’m going to address it to Miss Banks Banks.”

  Justine let them hear the sound of her laughter, a rarity, for he’d seldom heard her laugh aloud. Her big grayish-brown eyes sparkled with merriment, beautiful and wicked, and he had to force himself not to touch her. His mother’s small talk with a stranger about Leah’s attitude toward her name—a matter that had always displeased her—was proof that she accepted Justine without reservation. Leah hugged first Justine and then him. He made himself a bystander and watched the interplay among the women in his life.

  His mother reached for Tonya, but the child wanted Justine. “Juju sing. Sing. Pay panno,” Tonya insisted, holding her arms out to her nanny. When Justine took her, she bounced with joy, clapped her hands, and kissed Justine’s cheek. “Baywu,” she said, referring to the story of Beowulf.

  His mother watched the two of them, obviously scrutinizing and, if he knew her at all, adding up something. Her eyes narrowed, and Justine turned away. Something had passed between them or from one to the other, and he’d give a lot to know what it was, but he didn’t expect either one of them to enlighten him.

  Arlene Banks turned on the dishwasher and clicked off the kitchen lights. The past few hours had been an eyeful and a head full.

  “Well, what do you think, Mama?” Banks asked as she entered the kitchen door, their first chance to speak of the evening’s happenings.

  “About Justine?” Arlene asked.

  Banks nodded. “I think she’s super. What about you?”

  Arlene spoke truthfully, “I wish he had known her before he met Marie. She is the woman for him, a giving person. Did you see his face as he watched her cuddling Tonya? Did you?”

  Banks leaned against the wall. “I saw that and then some. I just hope they know what they’d lose if they threw it away. I’m just learning, but I know that much. She isn’t what you’d expect in a nanny, is she?”

  Arlene lifted both eyebrows. “Nanny? I’m surprised at you.” She clicked off the remaining light. “I want to tell Tonya good night. She has to get to know me.”

  She started down the narrow hallway to the stairs and surmised that the dialing she heard was her daughter calling Wayne Roundtree. She had never accepted the reasons that Duncan and Leah had given her as to why the woman they described J
ustine to be would work as a nanny. As much as they’d both seen Justine and Tonya together, it amazed her that they hadn’t guessed. Didn’t Duncan know why he thought he’d known Justine? The woman had a story to tell, and she suspected from the aura of veiled sadness she detected in her, even when she laughed, that hers was a tale of unhappiness. She treaded the carpeted, upstairs hallway on her way to the room that Justine would share with Tonya. She stopped, not wanting to shatter the unifying force that ricocheted between Duncan, Justine and Tonya, binding them, glowing on their faces, echoing from the walls and lighting up the room like the rays of an early morning sun. Didn’t Duncan know that he was in love with Justine? She went into the bathroom, closed the door, and prayed that God would smile on the three of them and keep them together. And they’d need a lot of prayer, because Duncan was in for a shock, and he hadn’t yet learned how to forgive and forget.

  Alone in her room, Banks held her breath, hoping that Wayne and not his mother would answer the phone, but it was Mary Roundtree whose voice she heard. “This is the Roundtree residence. With whom do you wish to speak?”

  Reminding herself to be thankful that she’d been given a different mother, she said, “Miss Mary, this Leah Banks. I want to speak with Wayne.”

  “Oh, yes, Leah. I’ve been asking Wayne to bring you to see me, since the two of you spend so much time together, but he always gives me a reason why he can’t do it that day or that weekend. So how about Sunday afternoon?”

  Thank goodness, she had a legitimate excuse. “Thanks, Miss Mary, but my brother and niece and my girlfriend are spending the weekend with us, so this isn’t a good time. I’ll let Wayne know when it’s good. Could I please speak with him?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Ice water. How did a man like Wayne get such a snowflake for a mother? Her bones jellied when his deep baritone reached her through the wires.

  “Hello, Leah. Still got the Roundtrees on a merry-go-round? What’s up?”

  “Wayne, what are you talking about?”

  She imagined that his face glowed with innocence. “Still scared to meet my mother. Shame on you.”

  She hoped she didn’t have to go near the woman until she wore Wayne’s ring on the third finger of her left hand. “Who’s scared? I’m just real careful in case your mother is your confidant and advisor.”

  “Tell me you didn’t say that,” he growled.

  “You told me you can’t stand people who don’t tell the truth.”

  “That’s right, I did. You love me?”

  “Will you hold me to my answer?”

  His laughter warmed every molecule of her being. “I’ll hold you, all right. Wait ’til I get my hands on you.”

  Just the opening she needed. “How about an hour from now? Justine and Duncan are here for Thanksgiving, so the four of us could check out The Watering Hole.”

  “Meet me at your front door in half an hour; I need thirty minutes before your brother gets into the act.”

  Eager anticipation and warmth surged through her, but she steadied her voice and needled him. “What could we possibly do for thirty whole minutes?”

  She’d known he’d laugh at that, and she relished it. “Baby, I wouldn’t take a million dollars for you.”

  “You’d take two million?”

  “Go ahead. Press your luck. You’ve got twenty-eight minutes. See you.”

  “Bye.” She hung up and dashed upstairs. “Put on something, girlfriend. Wayne’s coming over, and the four of us are going to The Watering Hole.”

  Duncan’s questioning look accused her. “Who decided this?”

  “Me. Come on Duncan. I want to see Wayne, and us going out together gave me an excuse to ask him. You going, Justine?”

  “Of course, if it’s all right with Duncan.”

  “It’s all right with him. I’m going to put on a pink lace dress, sleeveless and miniskirted.”

  “Something similar,” Justine said. “Come on, Duncan, be a good sport.”

  “Sure,” he grumbled, “and spend the evening watching Roundtree ogle my kid sister.”

  “You think you’re the only one entitled to ogle?” Banks shot back. “I’m getting dressed.”

  “Me, too,” Justine said and ushered Duncan to the door. “Meet you downstairs in forty minutes.”

  Duncan held Justine’s coat while she slid out of it. When she turned to him and smiled her thanks, he let out a soft whistle. “Isn’t that thing cut a little low? I mean, it’s kind of skimpy, isn’t it?”

  Justine glanced toward Banks, whose gaze went skyward as though Duncan was hopeless. “It doesn’t approach the line of indecency,” Justine said of her red, cleavage-revealing shift. “It’s practically Victorian.”

  His tongue poked his right jaw. “You don’t say.”

  “Why don’t we go to the lodge Saturday morning and do some fishing?” Wayne asked Duncan.

  “You want to go fishing?” Duncan asked Justine.

  She looked down at his hand high on her thigh as though it belonged there. And didn’t it? “Guarantee me I’ll catch something.”

  “I wouldn’t touch that with a fishing rod,” Banks said.

  “You will definitely catch something,” Wayne assured her. “I’m aiming at a pretty good harvest myself.”

  “Wait a second,” Duncan said to Wayne. “What are you talking about?”

  “Fishing. What else?”

  Banks slapped Duncan on his hand. “He has a right to hope.”

  Justine told herself not to think of what could be, but enjoy the present. She had never spent time matching wits and telling tall tales with friends. Happiness filled her and spilled out of her, a wild river suddenly undammed. She laughed. And laughed. Duncan kissed her mouth, and she sobered.

  “What happened to you?” he whispered in her ear with Banks’s gaze locked on them.

  I’m going to be honest with him, she told herself. If he didn’t like what he heard, she couldn’t help it. “It was too much all of a sudden. I’m happy, and I know it can’t last.”

  He eased himself around her, shielding her from the eyes of Wayne and his sister. “It sounded to me like sadness,” he said, for her ears only. “Remember, we promised not to cross our bridges until we got to them. You’re not alone in this whirlwind.”

  They didn’t hear him, but they had to know that his words weren’t for their ears. “Thanks,” she whispered, “but maybe we’d better continue this another time. Your sister may think you’re making a public statement about us.”

  “Let her think what she likes. And she will. Besides, it’s been years since Leah and I surprised each other, if we ever did.” He moved away from her and, as she had suspected, they had Wayne’s and Banks’s full attention.

  “How many Thanksgiving dinners are you eating tomorrow, Wayne?” Duncan asked, obviously to divert the focus from himself and Justine. “Two?”

  “Looks like it.”

  Justine could see in Banks an aura of contentment, a softness that came with knowing that Wayne cared for her. She didn’t want to stare at them, so she turned to face Duncan and caught him off guard. If only she dared to trust what, in that fleeting moment, she’d seen flashing in his eyes. Was what he felt so strong that he would forgive her? Or was he a man who could toss her off like a pair of worn-out shoes even if he loved her? She dare not hope.

  Thanksgiving dinner was served with all the trimmings. Arlene Banks sat at one end of the table and Duncan at the other, and when the older woman asked Justine to sit at Duncan’s right, Justine accepted it as a gesture of good will, though guilt diminished her pleasure in it all.

  Arlene looked at her son, then bowed her head. Duncan, Arlene, and Banks reached for the hands of those nearest them, and Justine lowered her head and closed her eyes as Duncan said grace. An inner peace, buttressed by the strength of his fingers joined with hers, flowed through her, powerful in its solace, its reassurance that he was there for her. She fought back the knowledge that she had sowe
d the seeds sure to destroy all that she meant to him, that what bound them now could prove as fragile as a feather in a wind storm.

  Chapter 11

  They laughed, joshed each other, told tales, and lied outrageously about little things, while the soft sounds of Duke Ellington’s “Creole Love Song,” “Mood Indigo,” and “Prelude To A Kiss”—songs Arlene loved—filled the room. As a child, I had people around me, Justine thought but this is a family. Silently, she vowed that Tonya’s life would be filled with love no matter what she had to pay.

  “I’m surprised that your mother excused you from dinner,” Arlene said to Wayne.

  His pained expression told the tale before he spoke. “She didn’t. She just scheduled dinner at five o’clock instead of two, so I could eat with Leah.” He turned to Leah. “And if I can eat two big meals within three hours, so can you.”

  Arlene looked aghast. “I certainly hope you’ll eat dinner with him,” she said to Leah, “since he’s eating with you.”

  Leah eyed her mother. “You taught me to chart my own course, and I’m doing my best to obey you.”

  Justine dragged herself out of bed at six o’clock the next morning, groggy from lack of sleep. There seemed little point in arousing Tonya; Duncan’s mother would enjoy dressing and feeding her. She still hadn’t figured out the message she’d gotten from Arlene Banks soon after she arrived at the Banks home. The woman had looked her over as she held Tonya and her eyes seemed to say, I know you. But how could she, when they had not previously met? Yet, Arlene’s perusal had not been hostile, and she had received her warmly. She dressed and went down to the dining room, where Banks and Wayne sat at the table, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes while they sipped coffee.