The doorbell chimed while Jan was just putting a filter into the coffeemaker. She hadn't expected Mark quite so early and self-consciously ran her fingers through her uncombed hair as she crossed the living room. Even after all these years, opening the front door to let him in as a guest still felt odd and awkward. When the house was first built, he had swept her up in his arms to carry her over the threshold and kissed her when he set her down...
For a moment, when he just stood there looking at her, his tousled hair back lit to a dark gleam by the morning sun, she thought perhaps he was remembering the same moment. But all he said, sounding a little apologetic, was, "I hope I don't smell like some football locker room. I came directly from my morning run."
He was in gray sweats and running shoes, his lean face still showing a healthy afterglow of exercise, his grin appealing. All grandpas-to-be should look so good. More than one college coed had a crush on him, she'd bet.
He held up a white sack with a delicately tempting fragrance. "But I brought croissants. Fresh."
"Good. I'm starved." And she was, she realized with a certain amazement. For the first time in weeks she was honestly hungry for breakfast. He followed her across the ivory carpet of the living room back to the kitchen, where she pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge and poured a glass for him.
He wrapped his long legs around a stool and sat at the breakfast bar, taking the same place at the end where he'd always sat when he lived here. If she tried, she could think of unpleasant battles that had erupted in this very spot, angry words hurled like knives and bricks across the ceramic-tiled counter. But at the moment, having him here simply felt surprisingly comfortable.
"Stardust isn't up yet?" he inquired.
"I told her to sleep as late as she wanted. I think she's worn out, and not just from the trip up here. She hasn't had an easy life."
"You had a chance to talk with her a bit more, I take it?"
"Not really. But enough to know that she's been pretty well kicked around most of her life. I gave her Tim's room. I think she appreciated that." Jan took her own glass of orange juice to the breakfast bar and leaned against the counter opposite Mark. "It's so wonderful to have her here. With the baby coming, it's like a part of Tim has come home after all this time. A second chance."
"I presume you intend to invite her to live here until the baby is born?"
"Of course. She has nowhere else to go. And I'd be delighted to have her stay here even if some other place were available for her."
"And then what?"
"I don't know. I guess I haven't thought any further than that," Jan admitted. "But I want to do all I can to see that the baby gets a good start in life and help Stardust get her own life straightened out too."
"A good start isn't just material things."
Jan nodded. "I know." She took another sip of orange juice, then pressed the cold glass to her cheek. "Maybe that's part of where we went wrong with Tim. But every child, and pregnant girl, has certain basic physical needs, and I intend to see that Stardust and the baby have what they need."
Mark suddenly swiveled on the stool. "Hey, look who's up with the early birds!"
Stardust stood at the bottom of the carpeted stairs in the same clothes she'd worn the day before, except now she was barefoot and looked even younger and more vulnerable. The bad bleach job was still glaringly obvious, but she'd washed her hair and it looked softer, less lank and harsh.
"We didn't expect you up so early. Didn't you sleep well?" Jan pushed a stool at the breakfast bar toward Stardust.
"I slept fine. The bed's really comfortable. But I heard something and looked out the window and saw Mr. Hilliard's car and thought I'd better come down."
"You didn't have to do that," Mark protested. "And call me Mark, please. I'm not the college professor here, just an about-to-be grandpa and very happy about it."
His attitude was so warm and friendly and non-judgmental that Jan could see Stardust thawing under it. Stardust started to hoist herself onto the tall stool, couldn't quite make it, and laughed a bit self-consciously when Mark offered her a boost.
"Sometimes I feel clumsy as a big old cow trying to go up an escalator." She looked down at her small bulge and sighed. "And I guess I'm really not all that big yet."
Jan laughed. "Wait until you're eight-and-a-half months along, can't see your toes, and feel as if you need a football field to turn around in. Would you like to see some pictures of Tim when he was a baby?"
"That'd be great."
"Okay, I'll dig them out later, maybe this evening. Right now, breakfast is on the way."
She gave Stardust orange juice to start with, then made a vegetarian omelet, warmed the croissants, and opened a fresh jar of apricot jam. Mark's favorite. Not that she was putting it out for that reason, she assured herself as she set the dish on the breakfast bar. Then she had to smile at that devious mental side step because, if she were honest with herself, the fact that apricot jam was Mark's favorite was exactly why she put it out.
Stardust shook her head when Jan offered coffee and said she'd rather have milk. "I think it's best for the baby."
"Good girl," Jan said approvingly.
Stardust ate as if it were an activity that required all her concentration. Mark made small talk about doings at Linhurst, and Jan appreciated his giving Stardust time to adjust instead of jumping in with some inquisition. Actually, it was Jan herself who asked the first question.
"I'm planning to call the doctor's office as soon as it opens. I'll have to give them your name—?"
"It's really Debbie Smith." The girl offered the name without hesitation although she also wrinkled her nose. "But I've always hated it because it's so boring and ordinary. So I changed it to Stardust when I left home. I wanted to go somewhere else and be someone else, make everything different than it had been all my life."
And once more Jan was aware of how little life had offered this girl so far. "I'll tell the doctor to call you Stardust even though your real name has to be on his records."
"How old are you, Stardust?" Mark managed not to sound nosy, just friendly and interested.
"I just turned twenty-one."
Jan suspected this answer surprised Mark as much as it did her. She had been thinking, after meeting Stardust, that the girl was probably even younger than they originally estimated, perhaps only sixteen or so.
Stardust must have seen the surprise in their faces because she added, "I think maybe Tim thought I was younger."
"You're out of school, then?" Mark asked.
"I dropped out when I left home. It was a mistake, I suppose. I wanted to go to college. But the way everything was at home, I just couldn't stay there anymore. And then getting pregnant..." Her narrow shoulders slumped for a moment, but then she squared them like a soldier determinedly facing battle.
"We can arrange for a tutor or classes so you can get a GED certificate." Jan glanced at Mark. "Maybe you could even get into some classes at Mark's college."
"Really? That'd be wonderful! Although right now all I want to do is have my baby and take good care of it."
"That's what we want too," Jan assured her. "But we also want to think about the future for both of you."
Jan gathered up the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. She seldom used the dishwasher because it seemed foolish when there were only dishes for one. She occasionally ate breakfast with colleagues or clients at a restaurant, but she couldn't remember when she'd last had anyone here to share breakfast. Or eaten more than just coffee and a piece of toast. She liked the cozy, almost family feeling.
"Well, I came over to help. What can I do now that I'm here?" Mark stretched, his shirt pulling across his chest in a way that was all too distracting. When Jan pulled her attention away from her ex-husband's muscled chest, she met his gaze and felt her cheeks redden at his raised eyebrow.
"I ... I'm sorry." Oh, good heavens! She sounded like a stammering schoolgirl. "What did you ask?"
Now both brows were raised. "What can I do? Now that I'm here? You know, to help?"
Jan nodded briskly. "Right. Well, I'd like to move some of Tim's old weightlifting and bodybuilding equipment out of Stardust's room—"
Mark groaned. "Me and my big mouth." But he was smiling even as he complained, and Jan knew he didn't object to the heavyweight job. "Maybe you and the baby would like to do a little prenatal bodybuilding and save me all this work?" he inquired of Stardust.
She looked startled, then realized he was teasing and smiled shyly. The smile did nice things for her wan face. "I'm not very athletic. But maybe I ought to walk or do something to exercise. I want to do whatever's best for my baby. But if you don't want to bother moving Tim's stuff, that's fine with me," she added with an anxious, I-don't-want-to-be-any-bother glance between the two of them.
"It's no trouble." Jan gave Mark a playful swat on the shoulder that she knew surprised him. Surprised her, too. "Is it?"
He grinned and bent his arm to brandish an impressive bulge of muscle. "Move over Schwarzenegger, here I come."
Jan patted the bulge of muscle approvingly. "And we need the space so there'll be room to set up a nursery for the baby."
"I believe that answers one question I had," Mark said.
Yes. It had almost decided itself. Her plans definitely included offering Stardust and the baby a home for as long as they wanted it.
***
Mark had to take the weight machine apart to move it, resulting in enough screws, bolts, and washers to stock a small hardware store. He lugged everything down to a storage room at the end of the garage, including the barbells and various other sports equipment from the room. Tim had never been much of an athlete, but apparently he'd wanted to improve. Mark was regretfully aware of how he’d failed his son in yet another area because he’d never had much patience with Tim's awkwardness and lack of coordination.
He heard Jan on the phone several times while he was carrying everything down to the storage room. She called the office and told them she wouldn't be in today, but various business matters apparently couldn't wait. With sweet coercion—a bulldozer camouflaged as a creampuff, he thought with a smile—she also managed to arrange a rush appointment with the doctor for Stardust right after lunch.
While Jan was on the phone, Stardust and Mark worked together vacuuming and rearranging the bedroom. Mark tried to make friendly conversation with her and even managed to make her laugh with his exaggerated hillbilly descriptions of some of the people they'd met while searching for her. She contributed some amusing comments about an odd woman who gave her a ride. But she clammed up when he asked more specific questions about her life in southern Oregon, her attitude cooling to near hostility.
About all he learned was that she and Tim never actually lived together, after which she added defensively, "And I never lived with any other guy, either. I just moved around working for different people or staying with friends."
He apologized, telling her he didn't mean to sound nosy, but her mood changed, and she went downstairs, leaving him to work alone.
When he left the house around ten o'clock, so he'd have time to change clothes and make it to his eleven o'clock class, Jan and Stardust were just getting ready to leave for the mall. Stardust was looking out the bedroom window as he eased the Honda around the circular driveway, and she smiled and returned his wave. He was pleased because he'd been afraid he'd offended her earlier.
Yet he couldn't fault her for not being more outgoing, for being a bit standoffish or moody, he decided. A reserved shyness could simply be a part of her character, a trait that might well have appealed to Tim, who was far from being a pushy person himself. And wasn't moodiness practically a signature of pregnancy? Stardust also didn't know any more about them than they knew about her, so she had no real reason to trust them. Tim hadn't turned out to be any pillar of dependability for her, and apparently other people in her life hadn't been any more reliable or supportive.
So there was no reason to feel troubled about her reticence, no reason to see similarities with other untalkative or moody people he'd encountered on the wrong side of the law when he was a lawyer. Yet the not-quite-definable uneasiness he'd been trying to quash ever since her arrival merged into one blunt question as he drove home: Was Stardust hiding something behind that silence, concealing some secret she didn't want them to know?
He frowned. What could she be hiding? The possibility that came to him was less than comforting. A criminal past, perhaps?
Like Jan, Mark wanted to do everything possible for their grandchild. Him, a grandpa! He had sweet visions of a little boy tagging behind him... "C'n we go fishin', grandpa?" Or a little girl bouncing on his knee, showing him her doll. He grinned. Or maybe she'd want to go fishing!
What he desperately wanted to avoid was Jan getting hurt again. Between his betrayal of their marriage vows and then Tim's death, she'd suffered enough. Now, like a gambler staking everything on one final toss of the dice, she was risking everything she'd managed to salvage emotionally from past losses, rushing into this new bond with Stardust and the baby with her heart wide open and vulnerable. If something went wrong, if Stardust let her down, what would it do to her?
Jesus, please... take care of her.
He taught his eleven o'clock class on the application and effects of the laws governing separation of church and state, forcing himself to give his students the full attention they deserved. Then he lunched at the college cafeteria and spent the time before his afternoon class working on a scholarly article about Christian aspects of some anti-discrimination laws.
He forced himself to wait until eight o'clock that evening to call Jan. He didn't want to make a pest of himself, but he did want to know how the appointment with the doctor had gone. He also had to admit he was willing to use any excuse to maintain more contact with her. By now he also pinpointed one of his reservations about Stardust. It was a certain rootlessness he sensed in her, partly from what she said about leaving home and moving around, partly from the way she simply showed up here, instantly ready to abandon her former life and start a new life with them. He had the uneasy feeling she could disappear just as quickly, that Jan might wake up some morning and Stardust would be gone, taking their unborn grandchild with her.
He got the answering machine rather than Jan herself, but she called back within twenty minutes.
"I'm sorry I didn't pick up when you called. Stardust and I were up in her room looking at some old photos, including some of me when I was pregnant. Do you remember how huge I was? The Goodyear blimp had nothing on me." She sounded excited and happy and a little breathless.
"I just wanted to find out how things went today, what the doctor said."
"Dr. Addington doesn't generally take new obstetric patients, but he's going to make an exception for Stardust because I've been with him for so long. He's concerned that she's somewhat underweight, and her blood pressure is a little high. He confirmed that she's definitely pregnant—not that I had any doubts!—and that she's probably about five months along."
"That would mean she didn't get pregnant until just shortly before Tim's death. His journal made it sound earlier than that," Mark said.
"But it's impossible to distinguish real time from imaginary time in the journal. I often can't tell if there's a month, a week, or an hour between entries."
"True," he agreed.
"In any case, she's somewhat malnourished, and that may have affected the size of the fetus, so she could be farther along now than the doctor thinks. Besides not eating right, she's had some very bad bouts of morning sickness. And, as she said, her memory about dates just isn't very specific. So at this point, her delivery date is still indefinite. Dr. Addington said he should be able to tell more accurately from an ultrasound. She should already have had one, of course, and there's a test called an AFP, which means alpha-fetoprotein, that they usually do at about fifteen weeks that she missed having."
"I don't remember all this from when we had Tim. Does the doctor think there may be something wrong?"
"Oh, no. It's just that having a baby, like almost everything else, is much more high tech these days." She laughed, again sounding giddy and breathless. "Oh, Mark, it's all so different now! So exciting. Anyway, Dr. Addington sent her to a lab for various blood and urine tests, and we'll have the results in a few days. She has another appointment next week."
"Did he ask her about anything she might have taken?"
"Yes. She finally said she may have smoked a little marijuana before she knew she was pregnant, but nothing since then." Jan's tone hadn't turned hostile, but it was definitely defensive, as if she were afraid he might make a big issue of this. He didn't intend to, but this was another point concerning Stardust about which he had definite doubts. "Of course, Dr. Addington cautioned her not to use anything now. Then he asked all kinds of questions about her medical history. He's very careful and thorough."
"I'm glad to hear she's in good hands."
"Oh, and I also got the name of a woman to call about Lamaze classes. It's usually the husband who participates with the wife, of course, but not terribly unusual for it to be someone else."
In spite of his reservations, Mark was so pleased with Jan's excitement. He couldn't remember her chattering on at such length about anything in years. It was good to hear. "It sounds as if you get all the fun of this pregnancy and none of the ... umm ... unpleasant side effects."
Jan laughed. "Exactly. One of the perks of being a grandma. I haven't had so much as a twitch of morning sickness yet." Then she went on to tell him about their shopping excursion in the mall, which included everything from clothes to cosmetics to a new spread for the bed in Tim's old room.
When Jan finally ran down, he asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Oh, I don't think so, Mark." For a moment he felt shut out, until she added, "But there is one thing—"
"Just name it."
"I think I'd like to take Stardust to church on Sunday. I don't have any special place in mind, and I thought perhaps, if it was okay with you, we could come to your church."
"Okay?" He reeled with astonishment. "It's much more than okay. Nothing would make me happier. In fact, if you don't want to bother driving, I can come over and pick you up."
"No, just give me an address and directions and we'll find it."
He did that. Then, even though that old adage about never looking a gift horse in the mouth occurred to him, he couldn't help asking, "What brings this on? Somehow I can't think it was something Stardust suggested."
"No. Actually I haven't even mentioned it to her yet, but I'm sure she'll be willing. She's such a sweet girl, Mark, so anxious to please and so concerned about doing what's best for her baby."
The thought occurred to Mark that up until this point, Stardust apparently hadn't been all that concerned about her baby. But that was unfair. Tough as things had been when Jan was pregnant with Tim, they'd still had so much more than Stardust. Their family backgrounds weren't ideal, but they were relatively stable, and they had a decent little apartment to live in and money enough to skimp by on during the pregnancy. And, most important of all, they had each other.
"But the real reason I asked," Jan went on, sounding a little self-conscious, "is because ... I guess I feel I owe it to God."
"Owe it?"
"I told him if he'd bring me my grandchild, then I'd believe in his love and caring. And he did it." She sounded as if that still amazed her. "So I guess I should live up to my part of the bargain."
He was delighted with her unexpected interest in attending church, in going with him. He'd prayed for this. But her attitude that it was part of some bargain with God was unsettling. God was in command and salvation was a free gift, but she needed a relationship with him based on yielding and commitment, not a let's-make-a-deal bartering system. Yet it was a start, he decided, and for now he'd settle for that.
"How about another bargain between you and me? You and Stardust come to church with me in the morning, and afterward I'll take you both to brunch."
He thought she'd probably turn him down, and he braced himself for polite rejection, but to his surprise she laughed. 'You're slipping, Mark. You used to be a much harder bargainer. I'd expect something such as, if you let us come to church with you, then we'd owe you dinner. Home cooked."
True, Mark admitted, he'd once been a much shrewder bargainer. He'd kept more than one guilty client out of jail with clever plea bargaining. "I keep telling you, I'm new and improved."
He also wasn't going to risk his tenuous new relationship with Jan by doing something such as demanding home-cooked food, he acknowledged wryly to himself.
"Okay, it's a bargain, then. Church first, brunch afterward,” she said.
This time when Mark hung up the phone, not even a boy with a frog and a worm in his pocket could have been as elated as he was. But, after he gave prayerful thanks for this positive turn in Jan's attitude, he made a sober vow to himself: He would do everything in his power to make this situation with Stardust and the baby work for Jan and to keep her from being hurt. Because the doubts about Stardust just wouldn't go away.