Chapter Seven

 

"Melodious," her mother chirped, "do you want chocolate or vanilla ice cream?" She emerged from the kitchen with both containers of ice cream on a tray. Her helper, Rose, had done a good job of restocking the kitchen but her mother had gone for the ice cream which she left from last year, digging it out of the pantry fridge, and was now brandishing its ice-covered container with relish.

"None," Melody said tiredly. She had picked up her parents from the airport in the morning. After almost thirteen hours of flight both her parents still looked fresh and untroubled.

Her mother had ordered her to find a tropical-wear clothing store so they could purchase a few pieces to wear on their cruise ship adventure. Melody had spent the whole day traipsing behind her energetic mother and her equally peppy father as they enjoyed themselves, tripping in and out of various stores.

She looked at her mother, who was in a bright, multicolored maxi dress with sequins. She had her hair dyed a rustic clay-red color. Her famous face was still unlined and looked youthful and smooth. Her mother was not averse to plastic surgery to maintain her looks for the stage and it seemed as if she had work done recently. She looked suspiciously younger than when Melody had last seen her.

"How do you do it?" Melody asked tiredly. "I am bushed, completely tired, and you look like you are ready for round two. Are you and Dad on performance enhancing drugs?"

Her mother laughed, heading to the patio doors and opening them wider. Even from her perch on the living room settee Melody could see the city laid out before her with twinkling lights.

"No, we slept through most of the flight. We have a system worked out for when we travel. So we can avoid jet lag." Rita sat beside her. "So let us have some girl chat. Alfred is snoring, which means he will be out for a few hours."

Melody groaned.

"Melodious," Rita said half-seriously, "I have ice cream in hand and I feel delightfully loose-tongued."

Melody grinned. When her mother was delightfully loose-tongued she usually spilled the beans on her fellow performers in the theatre or whatever television show she was working on. She brandished famous names about and told Melody stories of their behind-the-scenes life.

"So," Rita said, "did you find out whether Logan was seeing that girl at his office?"

"Mom, for the last time, there is no girl at the office."

"No girl at the office, really?" Rita pushed her spoon in the tough chocolate ice cream and was putting some effort into getting out a scoop.

"It seems as if Rose is not a fan of ice cream; that container has been in your fridge from last year," Melody observed, watching as her mother fought with the thing.

"Mmmhm," Rita said, sitting up straighter to start hacking at the ice cream. When she finally got a sliver she pushed it in her mouth and sighed. "I always say you must work for your food; it tastes better."

Melody laughed.

"And Rose is a lover of ice cream," Rita said. "My rum and raisin ice cream is gone. Back to Logan. There has to be a girl at the office, or a client or a fellow lawyer. Does he work with any unusually helpful ones?"

"No," Melody said. "Logan is not having an affair, Mom. Let it go."

"When have you ever asked me to let something go and I obliged?" her mother asked, opening the container of vanilla ice cream with relish.

"He is working on a criminal case." Melody propped up her head on some pillows. "It is not his area and he got the case suddenly."

"Oh," Rita raised an eyebrow, "who is working late with him at nights?"

"Just his secretary and a paralegal," Melody said slowly, Sabrina's eyes coming back to the forefront of her mind. She had tried to dismiss them, as she had dismissed all the other light brown eyes she had focused on through the years, wondering what if?

"I sense doubt," Rita said, looking at Melody with concern.

"No, I am not doubting Logan. I was just thinking about his secretary. She says her parents were friends with you and Dad. And she has golden brown eyes and she is bi-racial."

"Okay," Rita shrugged. "So?"

"So she has Greg Riley's eyes, Mom, remember him? And her parents were friends with you and Dad."

"Who are her parents?" Rita said nonchalantly. "You are getting all worked up over nothing."

"Jan and Howard Walker," Melody said. "I don't know them. Does that name ring any bells?"

Rita got up abruptly. The spoon clattered from the tray and she headed to the kitchen.

"Mom," Melody said exasperatedly. "Where are you going?"

Her mother came back to the archway of the kitchen and said hoarsely, "Melody, girl chat is over."

"What are you not telling me?" Melody asked fearfully.

"How old is this girl?" Rita asked faintly.

Almost too faint for Melody to hear but she knew the question for what it was. Acknowledgement for what she had suspected from the minute she saw Sabrina.

"She is nineteen," Melody answered. Her voice had the barest wobble. She waited for her mother to speak, in the same breath willing her not to say what she anticipated her to say.

"What a coincidence," Rita said. "The baby that the Walkers officially adopted nineteen years ago would be about that age now."

"You told me that she was adopted by an anonymous couple and that you didn't know them!" Melody yelled. "Mom!"

"Oh Lord," Rita sighed. "So I didn't tell you. I didn't want you looking them up and obsessing. I wanted you to live your life. I wanted you to move on and grow up regularly like nothing happened, and you did. That child was a mistake, an indictment on what bad parents Alfred and I were to you. I wished…fervently hoped that we would never have to have this conversation.

“Those darn Walkers, I swore them to secrecy. It was a closed adoption. They really wanted a baby and we quietly arranged an adoption long before she was born."

"For heaven's sake." Melody got up, her heart tripping like crazy. "She is living in my hometown. She is working for Logan!"

"Stop it, Melody," Rita said. "All you need to do is ignore her. She doesn't know about you."

"But she does," Melody gasped, "She has to. She made it a point to mention that you guys were friends with the Walkers and when she shook my hands the first time we met she clung to them like she didn't want to let them go. I found that odd..."

Melody closed her eyes and then inhaled deeply. She had also found it odd how Sabrina kept looking at her with an unusual eagerness as if she wanted to say something but couldn't. And those eyes...

"I can't process this," she said out loud to her mother, who had a look of panic on her face.

"How does she look?" Rita asked softly.

"She's gorgeous." Melody walked to the patio and stared down at the city lights. They blurred together the longer she stared.

"She has Greg's eyes! I can't believe this. This is too much of a coincidence. An unwelcome coincidence. My life is going fine, I am happy with Logan..." she clenched her hand on the rails. Logan, had no idea about her dark days.

"And nothing has to change," Rita said. "Nothing has changed. Let’s just live our lives. No sense wallowing in regrets or looking back."

"So all I need to do is bury my head in the sand like I have been doing all these years, falsely thinking that I could reinvent myself into a perfect person and atone for my stupid youthful mistakes. Mom, my skeleton is out of the closet and working with my husband!"

"Oh Melodious." Her mother came behind her and hugged her. "You were always a good child. If anything, it was Alfred's and my fault that events turned out the way they did. We were appalling parents. We should have given you up for adoption when we had you.

"See, adoption is not all bad. You would have been spared our totally ham-fisted attempts at child rearing. We were so focused on our careers. You would have been better off without us."

Melody leaned into her Mom. "You guys were not that bad and Grandma more than made up for your lax ways in the early days. Stop trying to make me feel better, Mom. Can we focus on the now? Sabrina Walker."

Melody didn't know what to feel about her. She felt a rising tide of panic. Her hands felt nervy and she felt sick to her stomach thinking about what the implications of Sabrina being in her life would bring to her and her family.

She rested her head on her mother's shoulders and they stood like that for minutes, staring out at the lights, each of them thinking about Sabrina and the complication her presence would bring to Melody's life.

Rita said determinedly, "Don't admit to anything. Don't entertain her. Ignore her. Eventually she will go away. There is a reason adoptions are closed."

Melody sighed. "I don't know, Mom. I visit people in the nursing home whose families have abandoned them. I see the toll it takes on them. There is a need in all of us to belong, no matter how tenuous the hold is. I mean, if I were adopted I would still want to know exactly who you are. It's a thing in all of us, I think."

"Okay, suppose she knows who you are," Rita said. "What is it that she wants? Why doesn't she come right out and introduce herself or something? Why is she lingering around in the shadows? This girl is going to be trouble, Melody, that's all I can say."

 

*****

 

"What are you making, Daddy?" Lauren asked doubtfully. She was sitting around the counter watching him with eager-eyed curiosity. He looked in the fridge, having no clue what he was looking for; he had left the office early and picked them up from school. It was the second day without Melody, and her absence reminded him starkly how important she was to the smooth running of the household and his life.

He was uncomfortably reminded this morning that his children had a little bit too much of his own personality in them. Zack argued about everything and Lauren was as picky and hard to please as he was, especially in her taste for food.

He closed the fridge door and looked at the phone. He was going to order takeout. There was nothing wrong with admitting that he was clueless in the kitchen. If he chose the right restaurant he could even find some with healthy choices. Well, healthy enough for Melody to approve.

He could have carried the children out to a restaurant but he had to work on the latest development in the case. The coroner’s report was not clear-cut. It gave him some leeway with how to approach the case, but he needed to do some research.

His cell phone rang at the same time that he picked up the house phone to make a call. He looked at his caller identification on the cell phone screen and realized that it was the office.

"Hey Sabrina, the building didn't burn down because I left early, did it?"

"No," Sabrina said, "but I am not sure what just happened. Millicent came by dropped off a letter for you, said it was urgent, and then she practically ran out of here."

"A letter?" Logan sighed and leaned on the counter. "I wonder how urgent it is?"

"I don't know," Sabrina said. "She looked pretty frantic. Do you want me to bring it to you now? I was on my way out."

"Sure. Thanks Sabrina," Logan said. He hung up the phone and looked at Lauren, who had been watching his every move. "Where was I?"

"You were going to use that phone to call someone else." She pointed to the house phone.

"Oh yes. What would I do without you, pumpkin?"

"Daddy, are you going to call a restaurant?" Lauren was fidgeting with her long plaited hair.

"Yes," Logan said, scrolling through his phone for his favorite takeaway numbers.

"I want spaghetti," Lauren said, "the way Mommy does it, with lots of sauce and gooey cheese. Can a restaurant do that?"

Logan stopped scrolling. Spaghetti. That is easy to make, isn't it? Melody usually takes little time to do it.

"Okay. Spaghetti it is," he said to Lauren who was beaming at him.

She hopped off the chair. "I am going to play Numbers with Zack. Will you be all right, Daddy?"

"Yes, I think I can manage on my lonesome in this unfamiliar territory."

She nodded reassuringly. It almost made him smile, when she left him reluctantly, the pull of the game much greater than staying with him.

He looked around in the painfully neat kitchen, except for this morning's dishes, which he hadn't gotten around to washing. He wondered where Melody kept the spaghetti and gooey cheese. It would be undignified of him to call Melody to find out where those ingredients were, so he looked for them himself.

Ten minutes later he had six types of pasta on the table. None of them were spaghetti. He wondered if Lauren would know the difference. He was inspecting the names of the sauces, which were arranged in alphabetical order in the cupboard. He took pleasure in uprooting them up a bit. He knew that Melody would fix them just how they were supposed to be anyhow; she was OCD like that.

The doorbell went off and he headed to the front door, clutching a sauce bottle.

"Hi," Sabrina said brightly when he opened the door. "Your yard is amazing, like really amazing; is that a koi pond?" she pointed to the side.

"Yes," Logan smiled at her, "courtesy of Melody. She loves gardening. Apparently the flowers are super pretty because of the fish water and some other eco-balance stuff that she has explained to me several times.

“Come on in. I am trying to cook pasta. My daughter thinks all pasta is spaghetti; I was just trying to find a way out of my dilemma."

Sabrina followed behind him, looking around the spacious house. The living room area could have been taken out of a home and garden magazine. It had high-end furniture, with patterns and rich looking wood. It wasn’t the type of furniture you would get from a bargain store.

The sun streamed through what looked like patio doors and gave the place a golden glow. The predominant colors were tan and beige, with bold splashes of oranges and reds. It was gorgeous.

She followed Logan's retreating back to a kitchen, which was equally as impressive, with black granite counter tops and red mosaic backsplash.

"This space looks great. Your wife has taste," Sabrina said grudgingly.

"Yep, she has taste; she married me, didn't she?" Logan smiled at her, and Sabrina inhaled audibly, covering it up with a cough.

He looked relaxed in this setting; still in his work clothes but with his jacket gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons on his shirt undone, hinting at his curly chest hair.

"Have a seat." He indicated to the nook area and she sat down, still staring at him as if mesmerized.

His eyes which were usually serious actually had a twinkle in them when he smiled at her and that made him appear even more adorable. No, not adorable, that was the wrong word to describe Logan. He was seriously hunky in an understated kind of way. He sort of resembled Idris Elba—nah. He was better looking.

Together she and Logan would make a lovely couple. In this house with Melody and her brats gone, she would be the lady of the manor. She saw herself in her mind’s eye in boy shorts running down the stairs with Logan shirtless running behind her as they played together and then after...

"The letter," Logan said.

"Huh?" Sabrina had been staring at his chiseled red lips and had not heard a word.

"May I see the letter?" Logan was looking at her, concerned. "Everything okay there? You are acting kind of odd."

"No. Yes." Sabrina reached into her handbag, shuffling around. "I... it's here somewhere."

"Take your time," Logan said. "I have to go hunting for some gooey cheese, which I am interpreting as mozzarella cheese but then again isn't cheddar gooey when hot? Not sure. I should have taken a course on cheeses. If only I had known that I was going to be cooking for my little food critic."

He went into the direction of the refrigerator with his back to her and she closed her eyes tightly.

Focus, Sabrina. Focus. You can't appear to be a ninny in front of Logan. You are not a regular person who is after their boss. You want to have a meaningful relationship with him. You want him to love you enough to leave his wife. You want him to leave her and choose you.

Logan came back with cheese. He grabbed a pack of pasta elbows and poured the container into a pot of boiling water.

"I even measured the water according to the instructions," he said proudly. "I am following the pasta salad instructions on the box and I am hoping that Lauren, the most picky eater in the world, doesn't think it not to her taste."

Sabrina smiled serenely and handed him the letter. "Remember the salt."

"I remembered." Logan grinned.

His eyes are like pure dark chocolate, Sabrina thought dreamily.

She looked around the kitchen. There was a family portrait that was stuck to the fridge with a magnet. Logan and Melody were standing before a waterfall with the twins when they were young. Melody and Logan were in bathing suits. The perfect couple. Sabrina felt an uneasy twinge at that thought.

"Oh no," Logan groaned. He shook the letter; he was staring at it incredulously.

"What?" Sabrina swung her head back around to look at him.

"Millicent says here that she got some money and she is making arrangements to leave the island today. Sorry about the inconvenience caused. Does she think that this is a misdemeanor?" Logan asked, stunned.

"Are you going to stop her?" Sabrina asked.

Logan put down the letter and reached for his cell phone, dialing Millicent's number frantically.

It went to voicemail.

He sighed heartily. "If she is not at first appearance in a month and a half, as I warned her to be, a bench warrant will be issued for her arrest. Nothing good ever comes from running away from your problems. They always seem to sneak back up on you somehow; Millicent will learn that. Thaddeus is going to have to find another lawyer. I am washing my hands of this."

Sabrina swallowed. "Nothing good ever comes from running away from problems, huh? That's like my birth mother and me. To her I am the problem that she buried nearly twenty years ago and here I am still alive. I bet she wishes I were dead."

"No," Logan looked at her and shook her head. "She gave you life. She doesn't wish you were dead. I have handled several adoption cases, even closed ones, and I can tell you that the birth parent never wanted their child dead or else they wouldn't have had the child in the first place."

"They just want them gone never to resurface," Sabrina said dryly.

"Stop," Logan said sympathetically. "Don't indulge the self-pity. Think about your blessings instead. First one, your birth mother gave you a chance at life."

Sabrina folded her arms. "Okay then, I am alive, blessing number one."

"Good," Logan said, heading over to the stove to check the pot. "Keep going."

"I am beautiful."

"That's true." Logan turned around and looked at her. "You were blessed with a very good combination of genes."

"I am financially independent. Well, if law school doesn't kill my savings."

Logan chuckled.

"I work for the best boss in the entire world. He is gorgeous and caring and..."

Logan who was in the process of turning off the stove, spun around. "Er...Sabrina. Don't you think that is going a bit too far?"

"Sorry," Sabrina said, sounding completely unrepentant. "I was just calling it as I see it. That's a blessing for me." She changed the subject when she saw Logan's fierce frown as he looked down at the pasta.

"So can I stay for dinner? I am feeling famished," she asked casually, hoping that he would relax again.

Logan looked across at her; he wanted to say no. She was definitely coming on to him, all the signs were there. He couldn't deny it anymore but then he remembered how forlorn she sounded when she told him about her dilemma. She was alone in the world, struggling with issues of abandonment.

To fire her would seem like another abandonment. Besides, she hadn't done anything to warrant a dismissal. He was just being overly sensitive to the situation. He needed to talk to her about what was and wasn’t appropriate for her to say to him as her boss. After all, she was just a young lady, even though she acted years older. She had practically raised herself. All he needed to do was guide her in the proper way of doing things. She probably didn't know how inappropriate her behavior was.

"Yes, you can stay," he said half-heartedly.

 

*****

The pasta tasted good to him. Logan gave it one last stir in the sauce as he sampled the dish.

"I'll set the table," Sabrina said, getting up.

"No," Logan shook his head, "you are a guest. Zack will set the table."

"Zack," he called. He could hear the beeping of the numbers game as he and Lauren tried to beat the computer in the living room.

Zack came to the door. "Yes, Dad."

"Could you set the table, please…for four. We have a guest."

Zack looked at Sabrina and answered dutifully. "Yes Dad." Then he perked up. "What are we having for dessert? Mommy has leftover ice cream from last week."

Logan nodded. "Sure, if that's what you want."

"And she has brownies too." Lauren came behind him into the kitchen and joined the conversation. "She made them with a brown thing that wasn't chocolate."

"Yes," Zack nodded. "The fake chocolate brownie. I liked it. Can we have some?"

"It was yucky," Lauren grimaced, "and so was the ice cream. She made it with fake milk too."

"It wasn't fake; it was coconut cream," Zack said. "I liked it."

Logan looked down at his dish. He wondered what the food critic, Lauren, would think of it.

"Sure, you can have whatever you want, Zack," Logan said to his eager-faced son. At least he knew that he would have one cheerleader. Zack was ridiculously easy to please, food-wise.

When he shared the food and they all sat at the table, Logan said, "Okay now. Who wants to say grace?"

"I will," Sabrina said eagerly. They closed their eyes and Sabrina said with a heartfelt note to her voice, "Dear God, you are awesome. Thank you for making me find this lovely family and for the food that we are about to eat. Please bless it, amen."

"Amen." Logan and Zack and Lauren said simultaneously.

Logan felt badly once more for his uncomfortable thoughts about Sabrina. Maybe she wasn't coming on to him. Maybe she didn't know what was appropriate. Maybe he was reading things wrong. After all, last night she did say she was in love with a guy until she ached. He was making too much fuss over nothing.

He watched Lauren as she dug into her plate. She had a mouthful and he waited for her to push away her plate in disgust, but she didn't.

"This is really good, Daddy." She gave him a little thumbs-up and Logan breathed a sigh of relief. Approval from the food critic.

"It is really good," Sabrina said, nodding. "I should try it at home."

Logan smiled. "Well, all is well with the world then."

"Where do you live?" Zack asked between bites.

"In an apartment in West Gate, near the beach. I live on the second floor," Sabrina said helpfully. "I have a really nice view of the beach."

"The beach?" Zack's eyes widened. "Cool."

"Yes," Sabrina said, "it is cool. Some mornings I go for a swim and I collect shells."

"Way cool," Zack said. "I collected a shell once; it was blue. Mommy saved it for me and put it in my room."

Lauren looked unimpressed.

Sabrina asked her, "Don't you like the beach, Lauren?"

"Yes," Lauren said, a pout to her mouth, "I just don't like you."

"Lauren!" Logan said, shocked.

"It's true," Lauren continued weakly, hanging her head. "You said we should always tell the truth."

"Oh Lord," Logan groaned. He would have to have that talk about tact with Lauren. His girl blurted out anything that came to her head.

"We are going to speak later," he said to Lauren sternly.

Lauren nodded, staring down at her plate, and then reluctantly pushed it away with a stubborn set to her mouth.

And things were going so well, Logan thought. He looked at Sabrina, who was happily eating away. She didn't seem very affected by Lauren's statement, so he wasn't going to apologize publicly. What would he say? "Sorry my little girl dislikes you?" Maybe he should just leave things as they were. Sabrina was just his secretary anyway; she probably would not have contact with Zack and Lauren again.