Eighteen

“This works out great,” Lindy said, standing in line for coffee aboard the ferry Yakima as it eased away from the Seattle wharf, heading toward Bremerton. “You can drop me off at Susan’s and I can ride home with Rush. I couldn’t have planned this any better myself.”

“Glad to help,” Steve answered, but his thoughts weren’t on his sister. Carol continued to dominate his mind. He’d left her only a couple of hours earlier and it felt as if years had passed—years or simply minutes, he couldn’t decide which.

She’d stood on the front porch as he walked across the lawn to his car. The morning sunlight had silhouetted her figure against the house. Tears had brightened her eyes and a shaky smile wobbled over her mouth. When he’d opened the car door and looked back, she’d raised a hand in silent farewell and done her best to send him off with a proud smile.

Steve had stood there paralyzed, not wanting to leave her, loving her more than he thought it was possible to care about anyone. His gaze centered on her abdomen and the child she carried and his heart lurched with such pain that he nearly dropped to his knees. There stood Carol, the woman he loved and would always love, and she carried another man’s child. The anguish built up inside him like steam ready to explode out of a teakettle. But as quickly as the emotion came, it left him. The baby was Carol’s, a part of her, an innocent. This child deserved his love. It shouldn’t matter who the father was. If Steve was going to marry Carol—which he fully intended to do—she came as part of a package deal. Carol and the baby. He sucked in his breath, determined to do his best for them both.

Now, hours later, the picture of her standing there on the porch continued to scorch his mind.

“Lindy,” he said, as they reached a table, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Sure. Anything.”

Steve pulled out his checkbook and set it on the table. “I want you to go to the JCPenney store and buy a crib, and a few other things.”

“Steve, listen …”

“The crib’s called the Jenny Lind—at least I think it was.” The picture of Carol running her hand over the railing that day he’d followed her came to his mind. “It’s white, I remember that much. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble knowing which one I mean once you see their selection.”

“I take it you want the crib for Carol?”

“Of course. And while you’re there, pick out a high chair and stroller and whatever else you can find that you think she could use.”

“Steve, no.”

“No!” He couldn’t believe his sister. “Why the hell not?”

“When I agreed to do you a favor, I thought you wanted me to pick up your cleaning or check on the apartment—that sort of thing. If you want to buy things for Carol, I’m refusing you point-blank. I won’t have anything to do with it.”

“Why?” Lindy and Carol were the best of friends. His sister couldn’t have shocked him more if she’d suggested he leap off the ferry.

“Remember the dress?” Lindy asked, and her chest heaved with undisguised resentment. “I felt like a real heel giving her that, and worse, lying about it.” Her face bunched into a tight frown. “Carol was as excited as a kid at Christmas over that maternity dress, and I had to tell her I’d seen it on sale and thought of her and how I hoped against hope that it would fit.” She paused and glared at him accusingly. “You know I’m not the least bit good at lying. It’s a wonder Carol didn’t figure it out. And if I didn’t feel bad enough about the dress, the rattle really did it.”

Steve frowned, too. He’d asked Lindy to make up some story about the dress and the toy so that Carol wouldn’t know he’d been following her that afternoon. Those had been dark days for him—and for Carol.

“Did you know,” Lindy demanded, cutting into his thoughts and waving her finger under his nose, “Carol got all misty over that silver rattle?” The look she gave Steve accused him of being a coward. “I nearly started crying by the time she finished.”

Steve’s hand cupped the Styrofoam container of coffee. “I’m glad she liked it.”

“It was the first thing anyone had given her for the baby, and she was so pleased that she could barely talk.” Lindy paused and slowly shook her head. “I felt like the biggest idiot alive to take credit for that.”

“If you’ll recall, sister dearest, Carol didn’t want to have anything to do with me at the time.”

Lindy’s eyes rounded with outrage. “And little wonder. You are so dense sometimes, Steve Kyle.”

Steve ignored his sister’s sarcasm and wrote out a check, doubling the amount he’d originally intended. “Buy her a bunch of baby clothes while you’re at it … and send her a huge bouquet of roses when she’s in the hospital, too.”

“Steve … I don’t know.”

He refused to argue with her. Instead, he tore off the check, and slipped it across the table.

Lindy took it and studied the amount. She arched her eyebrows and released a soft, low whistle. “I’m not hiding this. I’m going to tell Carol all these gifts are from you. I refuse to lie this time.”

“Fine … do what you think is best.”

Steve watched as she folded the check in half and stuck it inside a huge bag she called her purse.

“Actually you may be sorry you trusted me with this task later,” Lindy announced, looking inordinately pleased about something.

She said this with a soft smile, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Why’s that?”

Lindy rested her elbows on the tabletop and sighed. “Rush and I are planning to start our family.”

The thought of his little sister pregnant did funny things to Steve. She was ten years younger than he was and he’d always thought of her as a baby herself. An equally strange image flittered into this mind—one of his friend Rush holding an infant in his arms. The thought brought a warm smile with it. When it came to the Navy, Rush knew everything there was to know. Every rule, every regulation—he loved military life. Rush was destined to command ships and men. But when it came to babies—why, Rush Callaghan wouldn’t know one end from the other. One thing Steve did know about his friend, though—he knew Rush would love his children with the same intensity that he loved Lindy. Any brother and uncle-to-be couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Rush will be a good father,” Steve murmured, still smiling.

“So will you,” Lindy countered.

Blood drained from his heart and brain at his sister’s comment. “Yes,” Steve admitted, and the word felt as if it had been ripped from his soul. He was going to love Carol’s child; he accepted the baby then as surely as he knew the moon circled the earth. When the little one was born, he was going to be as proud and as pleased as if she were his own seed.

“Yes,” he repeated, stronger this time, his heart throbbing with a newly discovered joy. “I plan on taking this parenting business seriously.”

“Good,” Lindy said, and opened her purse once more. She drew out a plastic dish and spoon. “I take it you and Carol are talking to each other now.”

Smiling, Steve took a sip of his coffee and nodded, thinking about how well they’d “communicated” the day before. “You could say that,” he answered, leaning back in his chair, content in the knowledge that once he returned they would remarry.

“There were times when I was ready to give up on you both,” Lindy said, shaking her head. “I don’t know anyone more stubborn than you. And Carol’s so damn proud; there’s no reasoning with her, either.”

They’d both learned lessons in those areas. Painful ones.

“Take care of her for me, Lindy,” he said, his eyes appealing to his sister. “I’m worried about her. She’s so fragile now, delicate in body and spirit.”

“I don’t think she’ll be working much longer, but I’ll make a point of stopping in and seeing her as often as I can without being obvious about it.”

Her job had been an area they’d both avoided discussing, because ultimately it involved Todd. As much as possible, Steve avoided all thoughts of the sporting goods store where Carol was employed.

“I’d appreciate that,” he murmured.

“If you think it’s necessary, I could suggest picking her up and driving her to work with me.”

“That’s miles out of your way.”

“No, it isn’t,” she returned, giving him an odd look. “Rush’s and my apartment is less than a mile from Carol’s place. In fact, I drive right past her street on my way to work anyway. It wouldn’t be any trouble to swing by and pick her up.”

“True, but Larson’s is the opposite direction from the Boeing plant.”

“Larson’s? What’s Larson’s?”

“Larson’s Sporting Goods, where Carol works.” Even saying it brought an unreasonable surge of anger. It had always bothered him to think of Carol having anything to do with the store.

“Carol doesn’t work at a sporting goods store. She works for Boeing,” Lindy informed him crisply, looking at him as though he’d recently landed from Mars. “She’s been there over a year now.”

“Boeing?” Steve repeated. “She works for Boeing? I … I didn’t know that.”

“Is Larson’s the place she used to work?”

Steve nodded, wondering how much his sister knew about Carol’s relationship with the owner.

“I think she mentioned it once. As I recall, they were having lots of financial troubles. She was putting in all kinds of extra hours and not getting paid. Not that it mattered, she told me. The couple who owned the place were friends and she was doing what she could to help out. I understand they’re still in business. Carol never told me why she decided to change jobs.”

Steve chewed on that information. Apparently for all their talk about honest communication they’d done a poor job of it. Again.

Lindy removed the lid from the Tupperware dish and started stirring some orange concoction that faintly resembled mashed carrots.

“Good Lord, that looks awful.”

“This?” She pointed the spoon at the container. “Trust me, it’s dreadful stuff.”

“What is it?”

Lindy’s gaze linked with his. “You mean you don’t know?”

“If I did, do you think I’d be asking?”

“It’s sweet potatoes.”

“Sweet potatoes?” he echoed, wrinkling his nose. “What are you doing eating them at this time of year? I thought they were a holiday food.”

“I just told you.”

“No, you didn’t.” He didn’t know what kind of guessing game Lindy was playing now, but apparently he’d missed some important clues.

“Rush and I are trying to get me pregnant.”

“Congratulations, you already told me that.”

“That’s why I’m eating the sweet potatoes,” Lindy went on to explain in a voice that was slow and clear, as though she were explaining this to a preschooler.

Steve scratched the area behind his left ear. “Obviously I’m missing something here.”

“Obviously!”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. You want to have a baby so you’re eating sweet potatoes.” Lindy nodded. “Three times a day. At least, that was what Carol recommended.”

“Why would she do that?”

Lindy offered him another one of those looks usually reserved for errant children or unusually dense adults. “Because she told me how well eating this little vegetable worked for her.”

Steve’s brow folded into a wary frown.

“Apparently she heard this report on the radio about yams raising a woman’s estrogen level and she ate them by the bowlful getting ready for Christmas Eve with you.” Lindy reached inside her purse and pulled out several index cards. “She was generous enough to copy down some recipes for me. How does sweet potato and ham casserole sound?” she asked, and rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be sampling that.”

“Sweet potatoes,” he repeated.

Lindy’s gaze narrowed to thin slits. “That’s what I just got done saying.”

If she’d slammed a hammer over his head, the effect would have been less dramatic. Steve’s heart felt as if it was about to explode. His mind whirled at the speed of a thousand exploding stars. A supernova—his own. Everything made sense then. All the pieces to the bizarre and intricate puzzle slipped neatly into place.

Slowly he rose to his feet, while bracing his hands against the edge of the table. His gaze stretched toward Seattle and the outline of the city as it faded from view.

“Steve?” Lindy asked, concern coating her voice. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “Lindy,” he said reaching for her hand and pumping it several times. “Lindy. Oh, Lindy,” he cried, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’m about to become a father.”