This is what happens when I sleep through the alarm. Heatherlee was grateful Uncle Corky had dropped the twins at preschool. She’d overslept after tossing around most of the night. It hadn’t helped to use eye pillows and relax in Savasana. Now all she could manage was a little mascara and hair combing for her first class. She was rushing, but her mind centered on the real reason she married Yuri. It wasn’t his personality. Much of the time, she’d found him difficult. He’d seldom asked her anything because he’d known all the answers. She was attracted to Yuri because he resembled her secret crush.
Back in high school, Marc Duarte hadn’t known she’d existed. Yesterday, he’d looked at her when they’d nearly collided at the kitchen sink. His eyes had looked into hers, deepest brown, shadowed with black lashes. Yuri had looked at her like that, but never had her heart stirred beyond bodily attraction.
Marcellus Duarte, Jr., how many times did I write your name on my arm with a pen? She’d never written his name where anyone could see it. How hurtful it was never to be noticed. She hadn’t outgrown that kid in the bathroom mirror. She’d stuffed her feelings for Marc when she’d married Yuri. Marc was of a different ilk.
After marriage, she’d learned of their differences, evident everywhere, even in their gaits. Yuri’s strut was supposed to let everyone know he’d made it. His outer shell gave off a cold streak of cynical indifference.
Marc was the opposite. During the night of the robbery, his questioning had been aggressive in substance but gentle in tone. Marc moved with an easy grace. Taller, he was over six feet with wide shoulders. Although remarkably similar, his face was less rigid and stern. Even when he’d interrogated her on touchy subjects, his eyes were kind. I’d forgotten about Marc’s adorable crooked smile! One side of his mouth suggested smiling while the other side refused to go along with the idea. Marc is nice to everyone. Her jaw tensed, but she directed her anger inward at her naivety. No more!
Heatherlee was in her closet now, coordinating a Patagonia cami with fusion-wear shorts. The earth tone fabrics blended with her rubber soled Sienna footwear. She glanced upward at Yuri’s ashes. Yuri, you were a master at giving out clipped answers. She thought about the rape that had happened after his last trip abroad. Thank you for getting me to a psychiatrist. She took the urn down and kissed it. Yuri had been undemanding. In retrospect he’d seemed shattered, but now she believed it had little to do with her. He’d said he’d made enough money to get out of jewelry sales. It wasn’t just jewelry sales, was it, Sweetheart? Only Svetlana had known where you were hiding. The two of you were partners and trusted each other.
Yuri’s renovation frenzy on the rowhouse had centered on hiring handyman Bobby O’Toole. The Toolbox had put up a new wall to conceal the stairway with triple closets. A contractor had retrofitted an elevator within that wall. Yuri had turned off lights when the sun went down. That had become a habit.
Leaving the closet, she concentrated on the present. Yuri had left her with enough funds to launch Clearwater.
Both Tara and Marc had suggested working with the Jewelers’ Security Alliance. Already, that was in the works. Cruel gossip could pop my bubble with the prick of a pin. Her job was to sell Clearwater, and getting there first gave her a giddy rush.
* * * *
She flung open the sheers to her veranda. Thanksgiving dawn was emerging with layers of pinks and yellows as she headed into her master bath. She bathed and afterward applied Burt’s Bees lotion more liberally than usual. She sniffed the calming scent of honey with hints of orange and rosemary. For lack of time she had to cancel her weekly pedicure appointment. She took a moment to do that herself in shell pink.
Tara and Cord had invited Marc for dessert. The day before she’d sworn him off, and now she hoped to see him. Loneliness was becoming too comfortable, and she decided to undo it by getting back on the dating track. She’d seize the moment before some Basque woman snagged him for an affair when an affair just might fit into her schedule.
Marc probably didn’t know that she had generous breasts, she thought. In fact she’d forgotten herself. She snapped on a white lace bra and buttoned herself up in a pale blue silk blouse. Prized for centuries, silk had a history replete with romance. Time had not dimmed the allure of buttons. They become unbuttoned, one at a time. She pulled on jeans and stepped into gold-metallic slings. She passed her full-length mirror and then changed her mind. I look like a street walker. She traded the come-and-get-me slings for leather slides and dialed Tara. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
Tara repeated the greeting and had something to read from a scrap of paper. “Are you listening? You wrote this after Cord proposed to me. Remember how I wasn’t sure we’d be a good match because we were both competitive. Here goes. ‘When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.’”
“You saved my favorite Jimi Hendrix quote!” She appreciated how Tara always made her feel important.
“I asked you to repeat it. I wrote it down.”
“You’re priceless.”
“I’ve seen you write in that tiny notebook. Bet you’ve got some real treasures!”
“I enjoy journaling.” She hadn’t done that lately.
“Cord just talked with Marc, and he’s stopping by to sign off on paperwork and return some equipment. Try not to be too prickly. He’s unattached. A date with him would be safe, Heatherlee.”
“Compared to Match-dot-com, you mean.”
“Don’t forget, you like his mother.”
“I do. He comes from good people.” I’ve admire them from afar for many years now. She’d never told anyone that she named her daughter after Anna Rose Duarte. Dignified, Anna was the epitome of a firm foundation, a contrast to her own mother. “See you in an hour, Tara.”
After she hung up, she knew she’d accept a date if Marc showed interest. Her inner wisdom told her that when it ended, she could not, would not suffer disappointment. I am not beneath the Basque clan, but I’ll keep my expectations low.
The twins were up. They no longer had to climb out of their cribs. Days before, with pliers and a screwdriver, Uncle Cork had turned their cribs into youth beds. Going to them, she said, “Happy Turkey Day, Lovebugs!”
“Hi Mommy. Hi Mommy.”
They liked going places. It’d be a special Thanksgiving Day with friends. “We’re going to visit Aunt Tara and Uncle Cord. Maybe Kerrigan will be there.”
“Dogs?” Galen said from their bathroom.
Annie said, “Puppies?”
She answered, “Annie, Tara’s dogs are big. Huge, in fact.”
“I like little puppies.” Annie whined and stuck out a lip.
Galen said, “Fluffy and Spotty.”
“Tara’s dogs are named Fauxpaws and Merrylegs.” She bathed them and fussed with their hair. With some help from them, she dressed them in gold corduroy overalls and long sleeved t-shirts. She put on their shoes and grabbed a backpack with a change of clothes and jackets.
She angled toward the kitchen. “I’ll pack food while you two eat something.”
They climbed into their youth chairs, and she scooted them in. From their clown plates they picked up mandarin orange slices and sipped fortified soymilk.
She scrambled eggs and ladled them onto their plates.
On a step stool she brought down a basket from another era. Bought at a thrift shop, it was large enough to hold goodies she’d bought from Madge’s Bakery.
She moved boxes of pumpkin pies, a Dutch apple, a carrot cake, and whole-wheat rolls to the basket and covered it with a crisp, white tea towel. She placed a large tub of vanilla ice cream, a soy-based ice cream since the twins were lactose intolerant, and butter into a cooler. She used bungee cords to fasten the cooler and basket to a luggage carrier.
Galen had climbed from his chair. “Punkin’, you look ready.”
She lifted Annie down. “How about you, Sweetie?”
“I’m ready.”
She quickly did the dishes. “Let’s take the chug-chug.” The elevator would bring them to the ground level.
* * * *
Thanksgiving Day had been pleasant with Tara and Cord. Kerrigan and her fiancé, Ben Goldman, had been there for dinner. They had left for a visit with his family. The sky was dark blue, and Marc wasn’t coming. She bit her lip as she stacked dishes on a tray to bring to the kitchen. The twins were bringing dog biscuits to Tara’s big dogs.
She heard a truck rumble up outside. Headlights played over lace curtains, and Heatherlee moved to part them. Marc took long strides to the front porch holding a potted plant. He’d left the windows of his truck rolled down halfway, she noticed.
The doorbell rang, and Cordell answered it.
Marc held russet chrysanthemums against his chest and shook his hand. “Happy Thanksgiving, Cord.”
“Richard Hadley was pleased with your playground safety survey, Marc,” he said. His handshake ended with a shoulder slap. “You gave the position your all.”
“Yes, I did. Everything has been turned over.”
Tara wiped her hands on her apron. “All I know is that I like flowers.” She smiled as she took his potted plant. “Marc, you know Heatherlee and her twins.” She set the plant in the center of the table.
Marc smiled with one side of his mouth lifted, and she found his handsomeness both endearing and irritating. “Hello, Heatherlee.” The collar of his sheepskin jacket was turned up. The shearling lining was worn around the neck. Parts of the jacket were faded to charcoal. Unbuttoned, it lay open in front as he strolled into the foyer. He wore wranglers that showed off a certain part of his anatomy.
A delicious shudder heated her body. “It looks like your windows are down in your truck, Marc.”
“Thanks, but my pups need fresh air. My sister’s kids hadn’t seen them. I started their training today.” He held up a whistle.
“With that little whistle?” Her blouse felt tight, and she felt foolish wearing it. He wasn’t the least bit interested in her. He was talking about his puppies. So much for my body longing to break free! She reined in that crazy impulse and focused on his whistle.
“If you blow this type of whistle, people can’t hear it.” His voice had a conference-speaker quality.
“Dogs hear high pitches.” She’d heard that about canines.
Galen and Annie ran over. “Puppies?” They melted against his knees.
Marc squatted down to their level. “Hi kids, what do you think? Should we go outside and train the puppies?”
Cord said, “I’ll flick on the back patio lights and keep Merrylegs and Fauxpaws in here, separate from your pups.”
Marc looked at her. “Anybody want to see what the pups learned today?”
“We would.” She felt her cheeks flame scarlet. She hoped her desire for him wasn’t obvious. It was hard not to notice the details of him, and now it was his eyes. The whites were immaculate, and the irises were as dark as walnut. Puppy training was harmless fun for the twins. He wouldn’t be around long enough for them to make an attachment.
Galen asked, “Why don’t we have a daddy?”
Annie answered, “Ours died.”
Overwhelmed with their stark honesty, she felt her mouth purse into a forced smile. “Many children have only one parent. You have Uncle Corky, Uncle Cord, and Uncle Leviticus.” She peeked over at Marc.
Without a remark or as much of a glance, he steered the twins along. “I’ll need scraps of turkey. The puppies need to be bribed. Can you take care of that, Heatherlee?”
“Sure.” She headed to the kitchen where Tara and Cord busied themselves with the dessert phase of the dinner. By the time she reached the patio, the twins were absorbed.
Marc had pulled a vinyl cushion onto the flagstone floor. He sat on it and cradled the squirming puppies in his arms. The twins huddled beside him. “Sit over there, Heatherlee.” He nodded toward a long redwood lounge that was missing a cushion. She sat down on the one cushion there and expected the twins to settle beside her. She thought it would be nice to watch Marc’s little show together from her side. But the twins didn’t budge.
Marc opened two new packages of whistles without looking down. He was looking directly at her. “I was the only one who blew a whistle at my parents’ place. There were too many kids.”
She guessed the Duarte cousins and their families were there. “Too chaotic?”
Marc answered, “Uh huh. Galen, you stay with the puppies and me. We’ll give Annie a whistle. Annie, go over and stand by your mommy. Ask her for two pieces of turkey.”
“Okay.” Annie took the whistle and darted across the patio.
Heatherlee readied her turkey supply.
Galen plopped down on one of Marc’s legs. He thought it might hurt, but Marc drew him in with an arm.
She placed two turkey tidbits in Annie’s free hand. “Here you are, Annie.”
There was solidness about Marc. She hadn’t expected to feel so much of everything. For the next few minutes, she had fun watching the big man attempt to train two wild balls of fur. She loved seeing the twins focused and full of life. She was proud of their ability to follow directions at their young ages.
“Galen, hold Fluffy.” Marc was an affectionate sponge, but then she’d known the Duarte family paid attention to their youth. He had the tri-colored puppy contained between his legs. “I’ll hold Spotty. We’ll train them as a pair, okay, Sport?”
Heatherlee explained to Galen, “Punkin’, that means you and Marc will let them go together.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Sitting Indian style beside Marc, Galen mimicked Marc by keeping Fluffy between his legs.
Marc looked at Annie. “When Annie puts her whistle to her mouth and blows, we’ll let go of the puppies, Galen.”
Heatherlee said, “Remember, we won’t be able to hear the whistle. Ready, Sweetie?”
Annie said, “Ready.” She gave it a blow. Marc and Galen let go of the puppies. Annie jumped up and down as the puppies scampered across the flagstone. The puppies yipped in front of her. Timid, Annie put the turkey on the ground. The puppies nibbled it up.
Marc said, “They love that turkey. Nice job, Annie.”
Heatherlee said, “Tell the puppies they’re good dogs. Stroke their heads like this, Annie.” She demonstrated by caressing them with two fingers. “They’re so cute!” She found the puppies irresistibly tactile.
Annie squatted and stroked each of them gently. “Good dog, Fluffy. Good dog, Spotty.”
The puppies were running across Heatherlee’s feet. Marc got up and walked over. “Tickles, doesn’t it?” He picked up the puppies and sat alongside her, giving her shoulder a friendly nudge. “You’re a natural at puppy training, Heatherlee.”
“Gee, thanks.” With him close, her system went into overload. She took in a deep breath and blew it out again.
Marc chuckled, and his laughter did great things to his eyes. “Galen, you’re up. Get your whistle out and come over here with your mom.”
Holding his whistle, Galen beamed. His big gray eyes widened with excitement as he tromped across the patio. Heatherlee handed him two pieces of turkey.
Marc said, “Annie, if I put Spotty against you, can you hold her while we walk over there and sit on the cushion?”
“Yes.” Annie squirmed with a giggle.
Marc arranged one of her arms around the puppy and another under the puppy’s rump.
With the puppy securely held against her body, she weaved her way along. “Spotty tickles.”
Marc held Fluffy and knelt beside Annie. “Blow anytime, Galen.”
Galen blew into his whistle, and the puppies dashed like racehorses out a starting gate.
After a half dozen more tries, Heatherlee said, “I’m sorry to say our turkey supply is used up.” She glanced at the twins. Galen was petting Fluffy. Annie cuddled Spotty. Her heart warmed at the pretty picture they made. Could the puppies be theirs? Silly me, Marc is only stopping by.
He said to the twins. “Keep the whistles, kids.”
Annie said, “Thank you.” Galen grinned.
Marc reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a package of leather shoestrings. “I’m going to make necklaces for you two.” He bent down and strung the leather through their whistles and then hung them around their necks. “Wear these under your shirts. That way, they don’t get caught on anything.”
Looking down at their whistles, the twins tucked them under their shirts.
Marc said, “The puppies worked hard. They need a nap.”
Suddenly, the door to the patio opened, and Cord appeared. “Dessert is on the table.”
Heatherlee said, “I’ll help serve. Come on, kids.”
Marc said, “Can Galen and Annie help me put the puppies in the truck?”
“Absolutely,” she said and watched him place Fluffy in Galen’s arms. He picked up Spotty and arranged Annie’s arms around the puppy. They disappeared with Marc around the corner. Her thoughts shifted from happy to cautious. Today Marc felt like a lifeboat dropped into a stormy sea. He made her feel safe. In those few minutes on the back patio, he made the twins happy, too. He’d given them the whistle necklaces, thoughtful souvenirs. Maybe he would hang out with them again sometime or maybe not.
* * * *
Alongside his tan truck, Marc said to the twins, “You’re good dog trainers. I like how you carry your puppies.”
Annie said, “I love Spotty.” She brushed her face against the puppy’s fur.
“Spotty loves you, too. Look how Fluffy looks at Galen. He loves Galen.”
Galen said, “Fluffy loves me.” He nuzzled the puppy.
Marc opened the door to the backseat of the double cab. “We’ll put the puppies in their bed.”
Galen said, “Naptime?”
Annie asked, “Can we see?”
“Sure, I’ll lift you in. Wait just a second.” He put the puppies in a box filled with pelts and then lifted Galen and Annie into the back seat. “See how the puppies are circling around? In a moment they’ll curl into balls. They’ll sleep. When they wake up, there’s water and food here. Say goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” Annie said. Both twins kissed their furry heads. Marc found them affectionate and very cute. But it was their mother who had him spellbound. The twins were gentle because of her. He lifted the twins down and bumped the door shut with a hip. He held their small hands as they walked toward the house. On the porch, he glanced through the window. Through lace curtains, Marc watched Heatherlee setting items around the table. He couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to. She looked like a goddess in her silk blouse.
Even when married to Pilar, he’d felt frustrated, always trying to work things out. Dozens of roses never got it right. He’d followed her that night and had found her partying with her lights on. She’d taken her boss as her lover. Every time he ran into the two of them in town, he felt the fallout and took a lateral move to Chicago.
He nearly tripped over a big orange cat, and he wondered where Leviticus and Mae were spending the day. He pushed open the front door, and the twins bustled inside. Cord was lighting logs in the fireplace. Quickly, the hearth gave off warmth.
“It’s time for dessert.” Tara plumped up a couple of square pillows and placed them on the window seat, more secure for the twins than chairs.
Marc watched Heatherlee lift Annie and then Galen. She put on their bibs, making sure they weren’t too tight. She cared deeply for her children. He didn’t doubt that she’d deny her needs if their welfare were at stake. She poured fortified soymilk into small tip-proof cups. She smiled at them and moved their plates and spoons closer. Heatherlee Baronova had him in the palm of her hand.
With everyone seated at the table, Heatherlee said, “Here are pots of decaf coffee and tea. Tara and Cord, I know you want tea.” She poured tea into china cups and placed them on saucers in front of them. “Marc?”
“Coffee, please, with a splash of soymilk.”
“The twins are lactose intolerant. I guess a lot of people are.” She handed him his cup.
“Guess so,” Marc said. He wasn’t, but because she brought it, he wanted to try it. “Desserts look great.”
Cord said, “Heatherlee, you’re a saint. You went to Madge’s for my favorite carrot cake.”
“Sure did, Cord. Would you like carrot cake with a slice of pumpkin or apple pie?”
“Yes, I would. I’d like a little bite of everything, please.” He patted his waistline.
Tara looked at her husband. “It bites to think of the calories, doesn’t it, darling?”
For the next few minutes, Cord talked about his environmental platform. Conversation was interrupted by the ring of Marc’s cell. “Police Headquarters,” he said and stepped away. “Ditzman, fill me in.”
Heatherlee said, “I’m surprised Sergeant Ditzman is calling Marc. He’s done with sheriff responsibilities.”
It was awhile before Marc got off. The adults were bussing dishes and loading them into the dishwasher.
Marc walked into the kitchen. “Burglar alarms went off in a jewelry store in Los Angeles. The owner got there before the cops.” He ripped out the words.
Tara frowned. “Not a good idea.”
Cord’s eyes narrowed. “The owner probably thought the thieves were gone.”
Marc shook his head. “Thieves killed him.”
Tara asked, “Fingerprints taken?”
Marc nodded a yes. “Among them, Mitvolsky, a Most Wanted from Russia. The other set matched the prints on your countertop, Heatherlee.”
She wanted to run, hide.
Marc said, “I asked to be notified if the prints turned up anywhere.”
She asked, “Are you going to Los Angeles to oversee their investigation?”
“No, I’m not the sheriff. Even if I were, it’s outside our jurisdiction,” Marc said.
“Treacherous people.” Cord’s jaw froze. “I imagine the owner was killed in the usual way.” He pulled his hand across his neck.
Tara glanced at her. “You and the twins should stay here.”
Heatherlee shook off frightened thoughts. “My health spa is closed for the four-day weekend. I appreciate your invitation, Tara. I’m thinking of driving to Big Bear. They’ve had their first snow.”
The group began the small talk that accompanied goodbyes. Heatherlee gathered the twins’ stuff. She stacked up the cooler and basket on her luggage carrier. “Come on, kids.”
Marc followed behind the trio. “Whatever you decide, I’ll follow you home, Heatherlee. I can sleep downstairs at your place tonight.”
“I can’t argue with that.” She turned the knob of the front door.
His hand clamped over hers and he spoke in a low tone. “Tomorrow I’m flying to Chicago to close on my condo. I want the three of you to come. Don’t worry, separate bedrooms. If you like cold weather, it’s colder than Big Bear.”
“What about the puppies?”
“I have a carrier. I’m bringing them. At your place, I’ll plug in my laptop and buy three e-tickets online.”
Her heart was pounding. She’d been thinking about a date not a trip. “I don’t know.”
Misery passed over his face like a cloud over the sun. His broad shoulders lifted and sunk in a shrug. “Heatherlee, you know damn well I can’t leave you there alone. Someone could follow you up to Big Bear. I can’t take off for Chicago and forget about your situation.”
She couldn’t forget about him anytime soon, either. “We’ll go.”