Kitabı oku: «Anna Meets Her Match», sayfa 3

Chapter Three

Sitting at her usual table in the little coffee shop across from the BCBC campus, Anna huddled over her steaming mug and yawned, trying to shake the cobwebs from her mind. She’d worked late into the night, prompted by a phone call from her grandmother, who had only just learned from some committee member that Anna was handling the BCBC fund-raiser account. As usual, Tansy had displayed no faith whatsoever in Anna’s abilities, lecturing her on the importance of the assignment and her responsibilities to her employer and the cause. Anna had hung up on her, not an uncommon occurrence, and set to work. Now she had two good reasons for wanting to do her best. To her surprise, the first appeared at her elbow.

“Hard night?”

She looked up at the handsome face of Reeves Leland, handsome but somewhat haggard despite being cleanly shaved. “I could ask the same of you.”

“Or you could just ask me to sit down.”

She looked around, saw that the other tables were full and nodded. He sprawled across the chair with a sigh, hanging an elbow on the edge of the tabletop.

“I haven’t seen you in here before.”

He slugged back coffee from the disposable cup in his hand, wincing at the heat. “I usually wait and get my caffeine at the office, but this morning I need a little extra fortification just to get there. Figured I might as well order a hot roll while I was at it.” He glanced at the counter. “Does it usually take this long?”

“Mornings are busy,” she said. “So why the extra fortification?”

He grimaced. “I worked all night, and Gilli was on a tear this morning.” He shook his head and sucked up more brew.

“Well, that makes two of us,” she said, “working late, that is.” He lifted an eyebrow. “What? You don’t think I ever put in long hours?”

“Did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to.” She cut her gaze away, muttering, “And here I thought you’d come to cry peace.”

He straightened in his chair and set his cup on the table, folding his arms behind it. “I think that’s a very good idea, actually.” She shot him a startled, wary glance, and he lifted a hand in a gesture of openness. “It wasn’t what I had in mind when I was looking around for an empty seat, but now that you mention it…” He rolled his shoulders beneath his overcoat. “I don’t see why we should be enemies over stuff that happened ages ago.”

Recalling some of that “stuff,” Anna grinned. “That’s very generous of you, Stick. You mean you forgive me for busting up your baseball bat?”

His forehead furrowed. “How did you do that? I’ve always wondered.”

“Nothing to it. I just carried it down to the tracks and waited for a train to come by, then tossed the pieces back in your yard.”

He shook his head, one corner of his mouth curling up. “Guess we should’ve let you play, huh? I almost did, but the other guys never would’ve let me forget it.”

“I didn’t think about that.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed, his eyes crinkling up around the edges. “There’s that brat again.”

It was perhaps the first time he’d ever actually laughed at her. Picking at her napkin, she tried not to read too much into it, but she couldn’t help asking, “So, you ever going to forgive me for gluing your car keys to your locker door?”

“Not a chance.” He wagged a finger at her. “Do you have any idea what that cost? I had to replace the ignition module to get a working key for the car, not to mention the locker door.”

She jerked up onto the edge of her seat. “They made you replace the locker door?”

He suddenly seemed uncomfortable. “They didn’t make me exactly.”

“But you did it anyway,” she surmised, shocked. “You must have because they didn’t make me do it.” She’d sat in two weeks of detention, but nothing had been said about financial reparation.

For several seconds Reeves sat very still. Then he tilted his head slightly and confessed, “It wouldn’t have hurt me to give you a ride that day. I never figured you’d walk all the way to school in the rain. I just thought your grandmother would take you.”

“She wasn’t there that morning,” Anna told him, “one of her committee meetings or something.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. She instantly took pity on him, saying, “Look, it’s not your fault. I could have called someone else, but after you said no, I was so mad I just struck out on foot. Later, when you dropped your keys, well, I couldn’t resist.”

He shook his head, saying softly, “Kids do stupid things.”

“Yeah, well, I think I probably did more than my fair share.”

He looked up from beneath the crag of his brow. “I think you probably did, too.”

She tried for outrage but wound up spluttering laughter. He joined in, and it was perhaps the first moment of real camaraderie they’d ever shared.

“So,” she asked, making small talk, “what were you up all night working on?”

“Aw, we’ve got this big negotiation with a new fuel provider. I was putting together the figures, trying to estimate their costs and our—” He broke off suddenly, his eyes going wide. “The figures!” He smacked himself in the forehead with the heel of his palm. “They’re in my laptop, which I left at the house! Oh, man.” On his feet before he’d finished speaking, he started for the door.

“What about your roll?”

“Uh, you eat it. I’ve gotta run. Sorry. I’ll, uh, be seeing you.”

“Right. Later. Maybe,” she said, her voice waning as he rushed out the door.

After a moment she turned back to contemplate the coffee in her mug, wondering what had just happened. Had she and Reeves Leland actually taken a step toward putting the past behind them? If so, then what else might be possible?

She was afraid even to contemplate the answer to that question.

Irritated, Reeves quietly let himself into the house via the front entry hall. He never left his laptop behind, but he’d just been so frazzled this morning. If only Gilli hadn’t awakened in the same petulant mood that she’d gone to sleep in, he might not have forgotten the thing. Sneaking about made him cringe, but he took care to walk softly just the same. The last thing he wanted was for Gilli to see him and pitch another fit for him to stay home—as if he could! He had almost passed by the open door of the front parlor when the sound of his own name brought him to an abrupt halt.

“Reeves is perfect!”

Well, that was nice to hear, but what followed knocked the breath out of him.

“He’s perfect for Anna Miranda! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier.”

“Now, Tansy,” Aunt Hypatia said, an edge to her voice that none of her nephews or nieces would dare to ignore, “don’t get carried away. It’s just a thought, a matter for prayer. Odelia was simply mentioning a possibility in passing, one she would have done better to keep to herself, obviously.”

“There must be something I can do,” Tansy went on, ignoring Hypatia. “Anna never has more than a few dates with a fellow. If I leave it to her, she’ll never marry.”

Reeves had his doubts about that. Plenty of men were bound to be interested in a woman as attractive and clever as Anna Miranda. Just not him. True, he’d seen a different side of her this morning, a compelling side, but she had demonstrated that the brat was ready and willing to reemerge at a moment’s notice, and he had no intention of dealing with that. Best to nip the idiotic notion in the bud right now. Sucking in a deep breath, he strode through the doorway.

Hypatia winced as Odelia exclaimed with innocent delight. “Reeves! We were just talking about you.” Red enamel hoops a good two inches wide dangled from her earlobes.

“So I heard.”

Mags asked warily, “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Reeves gave her a frown. “Yes, and I would be if I hadn’t left my laptop in my room.” He settled a narrow look on Tansy Burdett, adding, “Fortunately.”

“Reeves, dear,” Hypatia began apologetically, “please don’t think—”

“No, no,” Tansy interrupted, getting to her feet. “Do think about it. You need a wife. My granddaughter needs a husband.”

Reeling from that pronouncement, Reeves watched as she drew herself up to her full height, which must have been all of five feet, including the tall thick heels of her brown pumps and the helmet-like perfection of her chin-length, pale yellow hair. Slight and angular, with sharp features and faded blue eyes, she wore a white cotton blouse and a straight skirt beneath a boxy jacket.

“And that’s all there is to it?” he scoffed, incredulous.

Lifting her chin, Tansy met him eye to eye and proclaimed, “You’re a good Christian man with a sound head on your shoulders, despite the mistake you made the first time around. Besides, Anna Miranda’s always had a thing for you.”

Now that was absurd. Anna Miranda had a thing for him, all right. He’d always been her favorite target, a butt for jokes, a subject for pranks, an object of ridicule.

“I have no intention of marrying again,” Reeves said to Tansy, exasperated, “and certainly not to—” He couldn’t even say it. Anna Miranda Burdett and him? Instead, he turned on his aunties, focusing on Hypatia. “Surely you do not believe that she…we…. Tell me you haven’t been matchmaking.”

“Now, Reeves,” Hypatia said calmly, “it was nothing more than idle chatter. We merely agreed to pray about it, that’s all.”

“Pray as you like, Aunt Hypatia,” he grit out, “but leave my private life to me!” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he had done just that, which was why he winced and said, “Sorry.”

“No offense taken, dear,” Hypatia remarked meekly. “It’s just that we’re so concerned for you and Gilli.”

“She needs a mother, dear,” Odelia put in.

“She has a mother,” he snapped, knowing that in Marissa’s case it was little more than a title, despite the allusions and veiled threats of late.

Marissa continued to complain of financial difficulty, and lately she’d started mentioning that she missed Gilli. For their daughter’s sake, he wished that were so, but he knew better. Marissa had no more desire to see Gilli than she’d had to give birth to her. He regretted offering her joint custody now, but at the time he’d hoped she would actually use it to be part of their daughter’s life, not browbeat him for money.

And they thought they could convince him to marry again!

All three of the aunties bowed their heads in contrition. Tansy merely flattened her mouth and tugged at the hem of her jacket, sharp chin aloft, before dropping back down into her chair with a huff.

Reeves pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, and counted to ten before carefully saying, “Look, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t want any more talk about matchmaking, not with Anna Miranda, not with anyone. Is that clear?” The aunts gave him nods and wan smiles. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he managed, “I have to get to the office.” Turning on his heel, he swiftly left the room and headed for the stairs.

Behind him, he heard Odelia say, “Poor Reeves.”

“No more matchmaking talk,” Hypatia instructed quickly.

Poor Reeves. How pathetic. The thought of the aunties meddling in his life both shocked and hurt, but he knew that he really had no one to blame except himself. He had mucked it all up. Sighing, he hurried up the stairs, intent on getting that laptop and out of the house before anything else could happen to delay him.

But he could not get over the thought of Anna Miranda and him as a couple.

Wherever would the aunts get such a preposterous idea? Anna Miranda Burdett and him! He wondered how long it would be before he could get that ridiculous notion out of his head.

Anna’s determination to show Reeves that his aunts were right to trust her with this project only grew after their meeting in the coffee shop. That resolve turned a couple days of work into four, but excitement gripped her as she waited at the sunny yellow, black-framed door at the front of the enormous house late that next Friday afternoon. Chester Worth, the Chatam’s long-time driver and houseman, opened it for her.

“Miss Anna, come on in here out of the cold.”

“Thank you, Chester.” She held a soft spot for Chester, who had never in her memory referred to her as anything but Miss Anna. “I called ahead. The Chatams should be expecting me.”

“They surely are. Miss Hypatia and Miss Odelia are in the parlor, and Miss Magnolia will join y’all shortly. I’ll bring in the tea soon as she shows up.”

Anna smiled. “I’ll let the others know.”

Chester went on his way, and Anna walked into the spacious, elegant front parlor. Odelia hopped up and hurried forward to hug her, chains of orange crystals hanging from her earlobes. She wore a long, multi-colored, gathered skirt with a melon pink blouse, wide black belt and purple vest. Hypatia, in contrast, looked the picture of prim wealth in a tailored, moss-green pantsuit and pearls. She, too, rose and came to meet Anna with a smile and handclasp.

They were still exchanging greetings when Mags trundled into the room, smelling of loam and flowers. She seemed to own only one dress, or else they all looked alike. This one she wore with a pair of brown slacks, a moth-eaten gray cardigan and red-rimmed black galoshes. Anna managed not to laugh. Mags beamed back at her and plopped down on the settee.

Anna quickly extracted three copies of four designs from her portfolio, passing them to the sisters. They were still exclaiming over her nature design when Chester arrived with the tea tray. A quarter-hour later, they sat balancing delicate, steaming Limoges teacups on matching saucers while Anna explained the second design to them. Odelia, predictably, gushed, but Mags screwed up her face at the ribbons and lace, while Hypatia made the sort of nice comments that one made when complimenting a beaming bride in a particularly heinous gown. She was obviously better pleased with the “biblical” design that followed.

Finally, Anna introduced the fourth rendering. “This,” she said neutrally, “is something of a combination of the other three in what I like to think of as the definitive Chatam House spirit.”

The effect was immediate, gasps, clattering of cups and saucers, oohs of pleasure.

“Anna Miranda,” Hypatia exclaimed, holding out the sheet to gaze at it, “this is…”

“Gorgeous!” Odelia finished for her.

Mags actually sniffed. “Those are magnolias in the swag, aren’t they?”

“Seemed apt,” Anna told her with a fond, pleased smile.

Hypatia placed the sheet of paper reverently atop the piecrust tea table and folded her hands. “Well, I think it’s obvious—”

Suddenly Odelia interjected herself. “Oh, but the romantic one is so…romantic.”

Mags sat up straight. “What are you talking about?”

“Now, I know you prefer the nature one,” Odelia cut in, “but this is an important decision. It needs time.” Ophelia tapped the little watch pendant pinned to her blouse and waved obliquely toward the door.

Mags stared at her for a moment then her eyebrows shot up. “But he said—”

“Talk,” Odelia interrupted hurriedly. “No more talk. E-except about the design.”

Mags blinked at that then she cleared her throat. “Ah. Well, it’s just that m-my idea is the best. Uh, the way Anna Miranda has designed it, that is.”

“Now, sisters,” Hypatia began sternly, but once more Odelia charged in.

“You don’t agree that we should talk about the designs a little more?”

Hypatia seemed uncomfortable. She actually fidgeted, shifting her trim weight side to side. Anna sat fascinated, not at all certain what was going on but entranced by the sisterly byplay. She said not a word as Odelia and Magnolia entered into a spirited debate of their individual preferences.

Some minutes later, Chester entered to remove the tea tray. Bending over it, he looked straight at Odelia and announced, “Mr. Reeves is home.”

With that, he straightened and exited the room. Odelia popped up and scuttled after him as far as the doorway. At the same time, footsteps could be heard in the back of the central hallway. Odelia produced a lace-edged hanky, which she began waving.

“Yoo-hoo! Reeves, dear! Can you help us please?”

Several heartbeats passed, during which the only sound was that of Hypatia softly moaning. Finally, Reeves said, “Of course.”

Anna twisted in her chair and leaned over the arm to watch Odelia grasp his elbow and pull him bodily into the parlor.

“We just can’t decide,” she trilled, tugging him forward. “Anna Miranda’s done such a marvelous job for us, but we just can’t agree. Give us your opinion, won’t you?”

She hauled him over to the table, where Magnolia laid out the four options for him. Reeves slid a hooded glance at Anna before quickly bending over the table. Anna held her breath. After a moment, he turned a look in her direction, surprised appreciation in his copper-brown eyes.

“These are quite good.”

She managed a blasé nod and a dry, “Thanks.”

He went back to the designs, tapping the fourth with the tip of one forefinger. “This one’s the best.”

Anna stifled a crow of delight.

“Well,” Hypatia said, sounding relieved, “that’s that.”

Odelia jerked, all but physically throwing herself back into the fray. “Oh, but…what about the staff?”

“The staff?” Mags echoed.

“They ought to have a say in this. We’ll be depending on them, after all, to keep everything running smoothly the night of the auction.”

“Odelia,” Hypatia said wearily, pressing her fingertips to her temples.

Undetered, Odelia began gathering up the designs. “I know, we’ll take these back to the kitchen.” She nudged her sisters to their feet. “We’ll each make our case, and see what Chester, Hilda and Carol have to say. That seems fair, doesn’t it?”

Hypatia sighed and sent an apologetic look to Reeves, who lifted a hand to the back of his neck. Absolutely no one, including Anna, was surprised when Odelia turned to him and instructed, “Now, Reeves, dear, you’ll entertain Anna Miranda for us for a few minutes, won’t you?” She began pushing and shooing her sisters from the room. “So rude to leave her sitting here on her own, you know.”

Anna watched the whole thing in bemused fascination, especially the part where Odelia winked at Reeves then pinched her thumb and forefinger together and drew them across her lips in a zipping motion.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” he said wryly.

Anna waited until their footsteps receded before favoring him with a direct look, her elbows braced against the arms of the chair. “What on earth is that about?”

“Don’t ask,” he grumbled, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Just let this be a lesson to you. Be very, very exact when dealing with my aunts.”

“They can be a little…scattered.”

He snorted. “That’s one word for it.”

“Actually, I think they’re very sweet.”

“Well, of course, they’re sweet!” he exclaimed. “That’s half the problem.”

“What problem?” she shot back, stung. “I wasn’t aware there was a problem, unless having to give your opinion has strained your brain.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny. I hope you didn’t pull a muscle coming up with that one.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake!” Anna shot to her feet and sidestepped the table. Why did he have to be so difficult, anyway? She thought they’d gotten past this.

Just then, Anna caught a muffled roaring sound, followed swiftly by a shrill, elongated scream. The next instant, Gilli burst into the room, wailing like a police siren, and shot across the floor on, of all things, roller skates, the cheap plastic sort that strapped over the soles of the shoes. She headed straight for the antique Empire breakfront in the corner. Reeves leapt forward to snatch up a priceless Tiffany lamp, while Anna lunged with outstretched arms for Gilli.

The pair of them went down in a tangle of limbs. Fortunately, they missed the tall Federal table in the center of the floor and the enormous flower arrangement atop it. A small elbow landed in Anna’s midsection, knocking the air out of her in a painful rush. For one long moment, all was silent and still. Then a sigh gusted forth, and Reeve’s handsome head, paired up nicely with a stained glass lampshade, appeared above her.

“And so,” he muttered, “goes my life.”

Anna laughed. The look on his face, the droll tone of his voice, the memory of Gilli’s flailing arms as she flew across the floor, even the collision that had Anna on her back—again—gazing up at his resigned, hangdog expression, it all suddenly seemed like something out of an old slapstick comedy. Oh, how little he appreciated that, but his frowns merely made her laugh that much harder. It had been a long time since she’d had this much fun. Too long. She pushed up onto her elbows, Gilli sprawled all over her, and as was too often the case, said the first thing that came to mind.

“You know something, Stick? I’ve missed you.”

He couldn’t have looked more appalled if she’d decorated him with her lunch, but that didn’t change a thing. She had missed him. She had missed him every single day since he’d graduated from high school, and some part of her always would.

She had missed him.

The idea warmed, shocked and alarmed Reeves all at the same time. He recognized the glow in the corner of his heart with disgust. Was he so desperate to be loved that even an offhanded quip from a girl who had all but tortured him could produce such a reaction? Or was it Tansy and the aunties who had put that into his mind?

Groaning, he decided that God must be punishing him. That had to be the case. Yet, had Solomon not written that the Lord disciplines those He loves?

But does it have to be her, Lord? he asked in silent prayer. Isn’t Gilli enough?

Horrified that he’d thought of his own child as punishment, Reeves reached down a hand to help as Gilli began struggling up onto her knees. It was Anna Miranda’s hand that found his, however, and with his other still clutching the Tiffany lamp, he had little choice but to haul her up. She came to her feet with a little hop and a cheeky smile. Gilli collapsed upon the hardwood floor and began to wail as if she’d broken all four limbs.

Tamping down his impatience with such melodrama, Reeves turned to set aside the lamp so he could help his daughter up, but when he turned back, she was already on her feet, thanks to Anna Miranda. Gilli abruptly yanked away from her, and threw herself at Reeves with a cry of outrage, her skates slipping and sliding as she clamped her arms around his thighs. Reeves sent an embarrassed look at Anna Miranda before grasping Gilli by the shoulders and holding her far enough away that he could look down into her face. He saw more petulance there than pain or fear.

“Cut it out,” he ordered over the din of phony sobs.

“I fell down!” she defended hotly.

The last tenuous thread of Reeves’s patience snapped. “I said to cut it out!” he roared. As he rarely raised his voice to her, Gilli was shocked into frozen silence.

Not so Anna Miranda, who brought her hands to her slender hips and snapped, “You cut it out. It’s all your own fault, you know.”

Exasperated, Reeves glared at her. “My fault? I didn’t come flying in here on skates.”

“No, but you might have taught her to skate properly before this,” Anna reasoned.

Gilli immediately seized on that notion. “Yes, Daddy! Teach me! Please, please!”

He ignored her, focusing on the one who’d opened this can of worms. “And how am I supposed to do that?” he demanded. “Look at her. She’s not old enough for that.”

“I am!” Gilli insisted, her tears suddenly dried.

“Of course she is,” Anna Miranda agreed, folding her arms.

“I think I know my daughter better than you do, thank you very much. Besides, I don’t even own a pair of skates myself, let alone all the necessary safety equipment for the two of us.”

“So get some,” Anna Miranda retorted.

“I got skates!” Gilli interjected desperately. “Real skates. My mama brought them at Christmas.”

“Sent them,” Reeves corrected distractedly. “She sent you a pair of roller skates, but they’re too big for you.” Gilli had waited with breathless anticipation for her mother to arrive for Christmas as Marissa had promised during her one visit some six months ago, but all that had arrived was a crumpled card and a pair of roller skates with hard pink-and-purple plastic boots two sizes too large.

“They’re not too big!” Gilli insisted. “And I’m old. I am!”

Reeves pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gilli, I’m not going to argue about this. All I need is you flailing around here on skates. You’ll break a leg. Or worse.”

“All the more reason to teach her,” Anna Miranda insisted.

It was the last straw for Reeves. Lifting Gilli by her upper arms, he sat her in a nearby Victorian lyre-back chair and began stripping off the cheap demi-skates, which consisted of nothing more than rollers attached to a platform that belted to shoes with fasteners. He’d thought to placate her with them when she’d discovered that she couldn’t wear the “real” skates that her mother had sent, but he hadn’t realized she could get the demi ones on by herself, which was why he hadn’t refused when she’d insisted on bringing both pairs with her to Chatam House.

“When you become a parent,” he told Anna Miranda coldly, “maybe your opinion will matter.”

“You know what your problem is, Stick?” she shot back. “Your problem is that you were never a child.”

Straightening, he whirled. “That’s rich coming from someone who has obviously never grown up!”

“And who never wants to, if growing up means achieving pure stupidity.”

“Stupid would be teaching my daughter to do something so dangerous as skating!”

“As opposed to letting her teach herself, I suppose.”

“As opposed to dropping these in the nearest trash can!” he yelled, holding up the skates by their plastic straps.

Gilli threw herself off the chair and pelted from the room, yowling her outrage at the top of her lungs. Reeves sighed, slumping dejectedly. Wow, he’d handled that well. Once more, he’d let the brat get to him, and he didn’t mean his daughter. What was it about Anna Miranda Burdett that turned him into a crude adolescent? And why could he never hit the right note with his daughter?

Father, forgive me, he prayed, squeezing his eyes shut. I fail at every turn, and I’m as tired of me as You must be. In the name of Christ Jesus, please help me do better!

He sucked in a deep breath and grated out an apology. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“Well, you sure do plenty of it” was Anna Miranda’s droll reply. She glared at him from behind folded arms.

Suddenly, Reeves craved a run with every fiber of his being. Maybe some exercise and a long, private talk with God would give him the serenity and clarity to deal with this latest insanity. Loosening his tie, he said to Anna Miranda in what he felt was a very reasonable tone, “Please tell my aunts that I’ve gone for a run before dinner.”

Some seconds ticked by before she reluctantly nodded. Reeves headed for his room and the numb exhaustion of a hard run in the February cold, more heartsick than angry now and helpless to do a thing about any of it.

Intellectually, he knew that Gilli’s behavior had to do with her mother’s abandonment. Marissa hadn’t even said goodbye to Gilli before she’d slammed out of the house and run down the drive to jump onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle, which made her recent communication all the more absurd. Marissa had been a pitiful mother, but Gilli couldn’t know that. All she knew was that her mother had walked out, and she seemed to blame him. It hurt far more than he would ever let on. In fact, nothing in his life had ever made Reeves feel like such a failure as Gilli’s resentment of him, which was undoubtedly why he had been so rude to Anna Miranda just now. For some reason, it embarrassed him to have her know in how little regard his own daughter held him.

That, of course, was no excuse. As he changed into his jogging outfit, he apologized to God once again for his behavior and attitude. He would do better, he vowed. He would do better with Gilli and, God help him, with Anna Miranda, too. Somehow.