| |
"Psst!" Sady poked Matt in the arm. "Are you awake?"
He mumbled, and she rested her chin on his chest so they were face to face. Then he grinned without opening his eyes. "What is it, Sassafras?" he asked, putting an arm around her to pull her close.
"You don't think I sold myself cheap- just for a truck, do you?" she asked, running a finger down his jaw.
"Hell, Sady. I now own the most valuable truck in the world," he responded, grabbing her hand as she trailed it down his neck. He lifted her hand and held it against his cheek with a smile. "If I'd known the truck keys were also the keys to your heart, I'd have given you a key the day I bought it."
"You're a terrible liar," she teased. "But a good flatterer."
"Is it working?" He cracked his blue eyes and closed them again. "Never mind. Just show me again how much you love my truck."
"The truck was just an excuse, Matt Meadows," she whispered.
"Now you tell me?" he asked with a mock sigh. "Does this mean I get the keys back?" When Sady kissed him, he breathed, "Forget the keys..."
***
"I'm coming," Matt yelled down the hall as he pulled on a T-shirt over his jeans. "Amanda, if that's you, I'm shoving you down the elevator shaft!" He whipped open the front door and stepped back in surprise. "John! What are you doing here?"
"Who is it, Matt?" Sady asked, hopping down the hall from his room, wearing one of his T-shirts over her pajama shorts. "Uncle John! When did you get here?" she asked, running to give him a hug.
"I was thinking of asking the same thing," he said as he hugged his niece and gave Matt a lethal stare.
"You can't kill him," Sady told her uncle, "or you'll have to leave." She tugged him by the hand to the living room before pushing him onto the couch. "Are you hungry? I can fix you something," she offered.
"I lost my appetite," John scowled.
"How did you get in the building?" Matt asked, returning the look.
"The same way your mom got in. He's on my list of approved guests," Sady told Matt.
"Which works- if the security guard knows you're home, or should I say which home you're in," John told her as he studied Matt in a calculating manner. Then, sounding offended, he added, "I had to have him call Amanda to get in!"
"That explains the bad mood," Matt muttered, and Sady bit back a smile.
"I'm sorry, Uncle John," she apologized. "This was kind of sudden." John's brows went up, and Sady gave him a grin. "You know what I mean. Giving up my apartment."
John rubbed his forehead and looked at his only niece. She was no longer the cute little girl with big brown eyes and long braided hair, or the leggy teen who blossomed into a beauty queen. Leaning over the chair behind Matt, with her arms around him, John realized she was a grown woman who no longer needed his protection. It was a bittersweet moment, but he knew the man who put that smile on her face would take good care of her. Because if he didn't...
The sound of a key in the lock interrupted them, and Matt yelled, "No one's home, Amanda." The door crashed open, and Amanda marched in. "You do that one more time and I'll have you arrested," Matt threatened.
Amanda gave a sniff of disdain. "I'm not here to see you, Stubbles. " Matt smirked, and John turned pale when Amanda parked herself next to him. "I just want Uncle Sam to know none of this is my fault," she said, giving Matt a dirty look. "He took advantage of me behind my back and moved her in before I could stop him," she told John. Even Sady smiled while Matt and John laughed out loud.
"Tell us another one, Amanda," Matt suggested. "You're on a roll this morning."
Amanda turned an evil eye on Matt, then patted John's knee comfortingly, leaving her hand there and giving his knee an occasional squeeze. John turned red and tried to move away. "Don't worry, I'll keep him in line. If he breaks her heart, you won't need to send an assassin. I'll even take care of the body disposal," Amanda offered.
Matt turned to Sady. "Are you going to let her talk to me that way?"
She smiled and said, "I can't stop her any more than I can stop you. Now shut up and let's see why my uncle made the trip all the way to Michigan."
"I brought something for you, Sady." John opened his briefcase and handed her a package. She unwrapped the brown paper and looked at the small oil painting.
"Thanks, Uncle John... uhm, it's nice isn't it, Matt?" Sady handed the painting to him. He coughed and passed it to Amanda. She tipped it different ways and gave John a skeptical look from the corner of her eyes.
"What is it?" she asked bluntly, not afraid to vocalize what Matt and Sady wondered as well.
John grabbed the painting, flipped it around, and snapped, "It's a Morrow!"
"What's a Morrow?" Amanda laughed.
"It's a valuable piece of art."
"Aw, Uncle Sam... is this something you did in grade school? Look Sady, I think he painted a boat," Amanda said, taking the painting and spinning it again. "Or maybe it's a tree."
"A boat... a TREE?" John yelled, outraged. Then he cleared his throat and apologized for the outburst. "It's not a boat or a tree, and I didn't paint it. My father- Sady's grandfather- did."
"Really?" Sady asked moving to sit on his other side. "I never knew him, and Mom didn't talk about him very often. Was he an artist?"
John finally smiled and handed the picture to her again. "He didn't consider himself an artist, but more of a dabbler."
"He had the first part right! I'd have said he was a scribbler," Amanda hissed to Matt. "Hey, I'm allowed to be an art critic," she said defensively when Morrow glared at her.
"Charles Morrow didn't get recognition for his work until after his death," John continued with a frown that dared Amanda to interrupt again. She sat back with a smile and waved for him to continue.
"A few of his works gained critical acclaim over the years, but in the last decade the value of his paintings has skyrocketed as collectors gained interest. A couple of his paintings are on display at the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan," he said proudly.
"And you brought this for me?" Sady asked, wrapping his arm in hers. "Uncle John, that's so sweet of you!"
"That's debatable," Amanda said under her breath to Matt. He grinned but kept his mouth shut. He didn't need John breathing down his neck for this too.
"Is it valuable?" Sady asked. "I'm afraid to put it up in case something happens to it."
John ignored Amanda's mumbled, "Too late."
He smiled at Sady and said, "You do whatever you want with it. If you want to sell it, make sure you get it appraised first."
Sady hugged the painting to her chest and shook her head. "It's not for sale. This is a piece of my heritage." Then she embarrassed him by squeezing him tight and kissing his cheek. Matt chuckled because the old boy wasn't just uncomfortable, he was pleased.
"How long are you staying, John?" Matt asked.
John rubbed his neck. "I'm on my way to a meeting on the West Coast, so this wasn't much of a detour. I'm afraid I can't linger." He stood and headed to the door. "Uh, is this where I can expect to find you the next time I visit, Sady?"
Amanda made a noise of protest, and Sady nodded with a smile. John caught Matt's eye and held it for a minute, while Matt met his gaze evenly. Satisfied for the moment, John opened the door.
"Ooh, I'll take the elevator with you," Amanda offered. She grabbed his arm, leaving him no choice.
"Remind me to get the lock changed," Matt told Sady when their unexpected company left. He stood by her to look at the picture. "What do you suppose it is?"
Sady turned it every way, then shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Have you ever seen anything so ugly? Matt, I wouldn't hang this in a closet!"
Matt cooked breakfast while Sady showered. "It smells good," she said from the doorway. "Did your mom teach you to cook?"
He gave her a warning glance, and she giggled. "How are your parents, anyway?"
"Check my phone," he suggested. "Mom's making Dad take her on his fishing trips. Once word of that gets to the other wives, it won't be the men's weekend out- it will be the couple's weekend out."
Sady laughed at the picture Ellen sent. She held a big fish and her husband, Paul, stood by her side looking proud. "Your mom pulled that one in? Good for her! It doesn't look like your dad minds at all."
"He doesn't, unless you ask. Then he'll complain because he's a Meadows, but he doesn't mean it."
"Is that an admission of guilt?" she asked.
"Just a warning," he replied. "I hope you remember I'm a lot like my dad."
Sady pursed her lips. "You do complain a lot."
He angled his head. "No, the point I'm trying to make is I don't mean it."
"I'll try to remember," she said as he handed her a plate. They sat at the table to eat, and Sady realized the ugly picture stared at her from its position on the kitchen counter. "Did you put that in here?" she asked.
Matt cocked his head as he gazed at the picture. "I thought if I stared at it across the room with my eyes crossed I could make out what it's supposed to be."
"Did you figure it out?"
"Yep!" he announced, then continued eating.
"Oh, come on! It's killing me," she begged.
"It's damn ugly," he replied with a snort, while she scolded him.
"Maybe you have to be drunk to see the picture," Sady said as she tilted her head. "Or not. I think you're right! It's too bad my grandfather painted it," she sighed. "It's one of those things you don't mind re-gifting to the couple who throws a huge wedding for their third marriage."
A knock at the door interrupted their breakfast. "Your turn," Matt said. "I already took one bad call this morning."
"Be nice," Sady advised as she got up from the table. She opened the door, surprised to see another tenant of the building, Kristen Davis, with two of her children.
"Aunt Sady!" Six-year-old Argus yelled, rushing to give her a hug. His four-year-old sister, Beatrice or Bea, held out her arms for Sady to hold her. Sady smiled and hugged the kids, then noticed the worry on their mother's face.
Setting Bea down, she said, "Why don't you go see Uncle Matt? He's in the kitchen eating..." The kids tore past Sady on their way to see Matt. Uncle Matt fed them things their mother didn't know about.
"Kristen, what's wrong?" Sady asked, concerned at tears in her eyes.
"It's Harris. He's in the hospital with pneumonia, my husband's out of town, and my sister can't get here until tomorrow..."
Sady took her arm and pulled her into the apartment. "Kristen, we'll watch them while you go stay with Harris." Harris was the Davis' family baby, less than a year old. "Do you have a spare key so we can get what the kids need from your apartment?"
Sady took the key Kristen held out and said, "Go give them a hug, then get to the hospital. We'll be fine, so don't worry!"
If it wasn't so serious she would have laughed at the look on Matt's face. Argus sat in her chair eating her breakfast, and Bea sat on Matt's lap picking food off his plate. The fact that Kristen didn't comment on their food spoke as to her state of mind. The fact that she didn't talk at all said even more. Kristen had a marathon mouth, but worry about her baby kept her from lingering. A hug for her kids, a quick thanks to Sady, and she was out the door.
"You want to tell me what just happened?" Matt asked, with the beginning of a scowl showing on his face.
"Harry's sick," Bea told him.
"Yeah, he's in the hospital," Argus added, as he finished Sady's breakfast.
Matt looked to Sady, and she nodded with an unspoken plea in her eyes, hoping he wouldn't snap. "Well, I guess you two are on vacation for a day," he told the kids, while Sady smiled her thanks.
"I like bacation," Bea yelled. "I wanna swim!"
"Maybe Uncle Matt will take you later," Sady told her with a grin at Matt who again wore a cross expression.
"Maybe Aunt Sady knows something more fun than swimming," he groused.
Sady ignored him and motioned for the kids to follow her. "Thanks for breakfast, Matt. You don't mind cleaning up, do you?"
His brows dropped, and she said, "Okay, I'll clean up the kitchen, and you clean up the kids."
He stood and his chair hit the floor with a crash. "Stop trying to trick me!" he complained as he grabbed the plates and took them to the sink.
Sady returned to the kitchen a short while later. "We're going to their apartment to get a few things. Do you want to come? There's no need for that look, Matthew! A head shake would have done." As she turned to leave the kitchen, she noticed Bea staring at the ugly painting. Before Sady could stop her, Bea reached out and grabbed it, hugging it close to her chest.
"It's mine," she announced, as Matt laughed in the background.
"That's one way to get rid of it," he told Sady.
"It's not funny," she hissed, trying to pry it from Bea's locked little fingers. The harder she tried, the tighter Bea held it. Soon the tears welled up and spilled down her little cheeks, and Sady looked to Matt for help.
"Bea, you have to be very careful so you don't break the picture, okay?" Matt asked. Bea's face turned to smiles while Sady protested.
"That's not exactly what I had in mind," she low voiced to Matt.
"It's either that, or pull it apart with your tug-of-war. I don't think she can hurt it. Hell, anything would be an improvement!"
"Aunt Sady, do you want me to bring Dad's pencil and paper for Uncle Matt to write sentences?" Argus asked. Mr. Davis had to write sentences when he swore in front of his children.
Sady smirked at the look on Matt's face. The last time they watched the kids for a few days Matt wrote a lot of sentences. "Maybe we should just make him apologize," Sady recommended. The kids turned to Matt in expectation. Matt wore a stubborn look, but so did Argus. "Okay," Sady cautioned. "If you don't want to apologize..."
"I'm sorry," he yelled.
"He didn't sound sorry," Argus observed. Sady took one look at Matt's face and pulled the children to the door.
"We'll make him stay here and think about how bad he's been," she proposed, hiding her amusement. "Let's go get some things from your place." As she left, she put her head around the door and stuck out her tongue at Matt.
"I'm telling!" he joked.