Flannigan made himself comfortable on the sofa of Tess’s apartment. Across from him, Casey sat in his easy chair, scratching OToole’s back. Both the cat and the old man looked perfectly content.
“I figured you’d be coming back,” Casey said.
“I didn’t. I never planned to come back into Tess’s life again.”
“That day in the park, when I first overheard you talking, I said to myself, ‘Now there’s a fine pair of lovers who could use a good stabilizing influence.’“
“And so you decided to be that influence.”
“Yes. I think it’s worked out rather well. Don’t you?”
“For you, it has. I have yet to convince Tess that I need to be a part of this family.”
“You won’t be long convincing her, or I miss my guess.” Casey cocked his head, listening. “I hear her coming now.” He rose from his chair, dumping OToole onto the floor. “ Tis best for an old man like me to be sound asleep when the fireworks start. And Flannigan... I want lots of grandchildren.”
He winked, then walked down the hall toward his bedroom, OToole trailing along behind him.
Flannigan snapped off the lamp, then stretched his long legs out in front of him and lounged back against the cushions, watching the front door. Tess didn’t see him when she first came through. He liked watching her unobserved. Her color was high, and she had the tousled, dewy look of a woman who has just made love. He wanted her all over again.
She tossed a sequined wrap toward the coat rack and missed. It fell into a gold heap on the hardwood floor. She leaned over and removed one sequined shoe, then made her way across the darkened room, walking lopsided in one high heel. When she reached the piano, she leaned over and ran one finger lightly down the keyboard. Her shoe dropped from her hand, and she sat down on the piano bench.
Humming softly, she began to chord. The chords became a melody, and soon Tess was leaning over the keys, crooning “It Had to Be You.”
Flannigan sat in the dark, mesmerized. Her voice was satin and velvet and roses and moonlight. And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was singing for him, even without knowing he was there.
He closed his eyes, letting the honeyed sounds of her voice sink into his scarred soul. “I’m home,” he said to himself. “I’ve finally come home.”
The last note of the song died away, and they both sat in the dark, Tess leaning over the keyboard and Flannigan watching her.
Finally she sighed and turned her head.
Flannigan clapped softly. “Bravo, Tess. You’re magnificent.”
“Flannigan?” She rose from the piano bench,
and made her way to him. “Is that you, Flannigan?”
“I told you I would never leave you, Tess.” He rose from the sofa and faced her. “I don’t intend to.”
She stopped and planted her hands on her hips. “Where’s Casey?”
“Gone to bed. I think I hear him snoring already. “
“He should have thrown you out. You abandoned both of us in Biloxi.”
“I will not abandon you again... either of you.”
He crossed the space that separated them, and pulled her gently into his arms.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to have lots of children and cats and dogs. I want us to sit beside our own fireplace and hold hands and laugh together. I want us to grow old together.”
He pressed his face into her hair. “I want to die with you and be buried with you. I want to journey into the afterworld still joined to you, still loving you.” His lips grazed her forehead, the top of her head. “Tess, my girl. I love you so.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she batted them away. Standing in Mick’s arms, she allowed herself to dream for a moment, and then she pushed him away.
“I don’t suppose you have a place to sleep?”
“No,” he said.
“How like you, Flannigan, to assume that all you had to do was show your face and I’d invite you to my bed.” She switched on the lamp and began to toss sofa cushions onto the floor. “This makes a bed. You can sleep here.”
He gave her a triumphant smile as he made the sofa into a bed.
“Only for tonight. Tomorrow, you leave.” He began to whistle. “I mean it, Flannigan. Tomorrow you’re out of my life... for good.”
With that final word she left him in her den, whistling and getting his bed ready for the night. She went into her bedroom and slammed the door.
What right had he to disrupt her life again? What made him think she would come running back to him after all these years? Her gold-sequined gown fell into a heap on the rug, and she kicked it aside. Naked and enraged, she marched to the shower. She locked the bathroom door behind her. Nowhere was safe from Flannigan. It would be just like him to pick the lock and climb into her shower. The last time he’d been wearing his boots.
She leaned against the wall, weak, as she remembered the way he had come to her in Biloxi. Water washed over her unheeded.
“Damn you, Flannigan. Why did you have to come back?”
She leaned her head against the tiles. They were cold, just like her life. Sterile, just like her life. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding back tears. She wouldn’t cry now. Not while he was here. She’d cry tomorrow, after he had gone.
She finished her shower quickly and climbed into her lonely bed. She heard stirrings through the door. Flannigan would be sprawled on the sofa, the sheet twisted around his torso, exposing his muscular legs. He never liked to keep his legs on top of the covers, even in wintertime. She guessed that was because he was always poised to run.
He had said he was through running. Was he telling the truth? Was it possible that, after all these years, Flannigan was ready to settle down?
“It’s not my problem,” she muttered, twisting herself in her sheets.
He had said he’d found what he wanted. He wanted a family and children and pets and a home with a fireplace.
Suddenly she sat up in bed and switched on her lamp. Propped against her headboard, she studied her bedroom. It was filled with the trappings of her career—the closet full of glittery costumes, the musical scores spread upon her dressing table, the yellow roses sent by fans, their leaves beginning to turn brown and curl at the edges.
She was successful and admired and fawned over. And she was lonely.
She arose from her bed and began to pace the floor. She loved singing, loved her career; and Casey helped fill the void. But the happiest days of her life had been ten years ago when she and Mick were living in a walk-up apartment, laughing over which one of them would have enough money to pay the next light bill.
Her footsteps faltered, and then she was running, running toward the bedroom door. She shoved it open and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Mick was spread across the sofa bed, just the way she knew he would be.
Smiling, she started his way. When she was close enough, she leaned down and ran her hand under the sheet.
“Hmm. No clothes. How convenient.”
“Tess?” He sat up, running his hands through his tousled hair and yawning. “Tess? Is that you?”
“Who were you expecting? The queen of England?”
She burrowed under the covers and planted nibbling kisses down his right leg. He pulled the sheet over them and wrapped her in his arms.
“Sure and it’s good to have you back in my bed, Tess, my girl.” Chuckling, he nuzzled her neck.
“Don’t get your hopes up. This is just a trial run.”
“Then let’s make it a good one.”
He lay back and settled her over his hips. They came together with the explosive fury of a summer storm. And when the storm was spent, they lay back against his pillows, clinging to each other as if they had just discovered the only life vest on a sinking ship.
“Does this mean you’ll marry me, Tess, my girl?”
“No.”
“No?” He leaned away, trying to see her face in the dark. “You came to my bed and loved me like that, and you’re telling me no?”
“I’m saying no to marriage. I’m not saying no to an extended affair.”
“Another trial run?”
“You might call it that.”
“What if I said no. What if I said the only way I’ll have you is as my wife?”
“Take it or leave it, Flannigan.”
“And where might you be wanting this affair to take place?”
“Where might you be wanting to have this little cottage with all the dogs and cats and children?”
“How does Texas sound to you?”
“With bluebonnets?”
“And a small flying school.”
Tess sat up and reached for her gown. “I’ve always wanted to give Texas a whirl.”
She arose from the bed, and he didn’t try to stop her. There would be a way to get her to marry him. Right now he wouldn’t press. He’d take this one step at a time.
Propping his hands behind his head, he smiled up at her.
“Suppose we do find a little cottage in a field,
and I start a flying school. What will you be doing, Tess... besides decorating and warming my bed?”
“I can sing anywhere.” Waving her hands in the air, she watched him closely. “Who knows? I might chuck everything and become an unknown, a has-been giving lessons in the parlor of a small Texas cottage.”
“I might take a lesson or two myself, Tess, my girl.”
She felt as if she’d just been awarded a Grammy.
“Well...” She lingered beside his sofa bed awhile longer, and then she started toward her own bed. “‘Night, Flannigan.”
“Good night, Tess.”
o0o
Tess stood at the window, watching and waiting. A painted sunset made a backdrop for the man coming up the path. His shoulders were broad, his step was jaunty, and he was whistling. Flannigan. He whistled a lot of late. In fact, he’d been whistling for two weeks now, ever since they’d left Chicago and moved to Texas, with Casey and OToole in tow.
Tess’s heart climbed into her throat as Flannigan approached the door, and she had to remind herself that this was only a trial run. She hadn’t made any commitment, and didn’t intend to. No marriage vows, no heartbreak. That’s the way she looked at it. Oddly enough, Flannigan never pressed the issue.
The door opened, and he stepped through, bringing the heat of the summer evening with him. She ran to him, arms outstretched. He scooped her up and waltzed her around the room.
“Did you have a good day, Tess, my girl?”
“Yes. I got my first students, cousins. Elena Rae and Sukie Mae Glenn.”
“And can they sing?” He still waltzed her around the room. Her head was spinning, but he didn’t appear the least bit dizzy.
“Like Hereford cattle. But wait until I’ve finished with them.” He nuzzled her neck, still waltzing round and round. “Mick, put me down. My head is spinning.”
“Anything for my girl.”
He sank into their rocking chair and held her on his lap. She ran her hands through his hair and smiled into his eyes.
“And how was your day, Mick Flannigan?”
“I’m on my way to becoming the most famous flying teacher in all of Texas.”
“Why?”
“Because the mayor of this fair town is my first student. That’s why.”
“That calls for a celebration.” Tess slid off his lap and caught the side of the rocking chair.
“Tess?” Mick grabbed her arm. “Are you all right?”
“Too much dancing round and round.” She took two deep breaths, then smiled at him. “I guess I’m getting old.”
“Then many me before you get any older.”
It was the first time he had mentioned marriage since they’d come to Texas.
“You know my position on that, Mick.”
“And you know mine.”
Their eyes locked, and both of them felt a battle coming on. It would be their first in a long, long time.
“You’ll leave again,” she said, her chin outthrust. “You always do.”
She saw his quick anger boil to the surface. His
eyes sparkled, and his jaw clenched. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the anger died away.
He reached out and tenderly traced the side of her jaw.
“Don’t be thinking I’ll ever leave you, Tess, my girl.” His fingers moved across her lips. “Or disapprove of you.” He bent his head close. “Or try to change you.” His lips were so close and she could feel his warm breath across her cheek. “I love you... just the way you are. Always have and always will. It took me a long time to figure it out.”
She closed her eyes and let herself go limp. Suddenly he scooped her in his arms and strode down the hallway.
“Casey and OToole will be back from their walk soon,” she said.
Flannigan kicked the bedroom door shut behind them. “Casey knows to respect a closed door.”
They left a trail of clothes all the way to the bed.
o0o
The days grew shorter, and fall began to nip the air. In the cottage beside Ray Hubbard Lake outside Dallas, Casey and OToole sat watching their favorite game show, while Tess strained her eyes to see down the dark path.
Flannigan was late. He’d never been this late. She stilled the panic that began to rise in her chest. This very moment he could be winging his way south, leaving her and Casey and OToole to pick up their lives and go on without him.
“No.” She clutched her middle, moaning.
“Did you say something?” Casey looked up from his game show.
“I was just humming.” Tess walked away from the window, humming a jazzy tune under her breath. Oh dear God, not now. Flannigan couldn’t leave now.
The front door banged open, and in walked Flannigan, his arms loaded and face split with a huge grin.
“Top of the evening.” He grinned at her over his armload. “Come and give me a kiss, Tess, my girl. I can’t get to you with all this stuff.”
Relief made her legs weak as she leaned over the hammer and wood and dowels and screws and gave him a warm welcome-home kiss.
“What is all this?” she asked as she stepped back.
“My new hobby.” He dumped his supplies in the middle of the floor. “Wood carving.” He began to sort through the mess, whistling.
“Wood carving? It looks as if you’re planning to build the Taj Mahal.”
“No. I’m building a cradle—for Jenny.” Her face turned pale, and she clutched the back of the rocking chair, but Flannigan didn’t seem to notice. He was puttering around his pile of tools, sorting and whistling.
He looked up, smiling. “Do you think she’d like roses carved along the headboard?”
“Who?” Tess whispered.
“Jenny.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if only yesterday they had discussed what they would name their firstborn daughter.
“Aren’t you presuming a lot?”
“No. I’m planning on being a father.” Flannigan turned back to the pile of lumber that would be a cradle and began to whistle again.
Tess’s hands balled into fists, and she stalked toward him. “And who might you be planning to be the mother Flannigan?”
He stood up and bracketed her shoulders. “You, my love.”
“I never said I’d marry you, let alone bear your children.”
She stood glaring at him, nose to nose. He didn’t back down an inch.
Casey, sensing a storm, picked up OToole and left quietly, by the back door.
“Ahh, Tess.” Flannigan leaned closer and brushed his lips across hers.
“Don’t.” She jerked her head back. “Don’t get me sidetracked.”
He cupped her face. “How long were you going to wait to tell me, Tess, my girl?”
“Tell you what?”
“Did you think you could keep the secret forever?”
“What secret?”
“Ahh, my stubborn Tess.” Flannigan moved closer, caressing her cheeks as he talked. “I’ve seen the changes in your body, my love.” He flattened one hand across her abdomen. “I know you carry my child here, in your womb.”
With his hand over her womb, pressing gently against the precious burden she carried there, Tess melted. She’d known for weeks that she was pregnant. Each day she had waited for Flannigan to grow restless and walk out the door. And each day when he came back, she breathed a prayer of thanksgiving.
And now he was building a cradle—for Jenny. She wanted to give in. She wanted to grab her dream with both hands and hold on tight. For she knew, at long, long last, that what she wanted most in the world was Flannigan and all the things he had to offer—the passion, the humor, the gentleness, the brooding, even the longing for adventure she sometimes saw lurking in his eyes.
Ten years ago they had set out on their journey together, then had got separated and visited different places; and now they were back on the same train, going to the same destination. She didn’t ever want to leave the train again, but she had to make certain that Flannigan was on board for the right reasons—and for the duration.
“We live in a modern age, Flannigan. A man is no longer obligated to marry the mother of his child.”
“Obligated?” His hands gripped her shoulders, and he crushed her so close, her head was forced back. “Did you say obligated?” Thunder and lightning flashed just behind his eyes.
“That’s what I said. A woman has choices.”
“If you think I’d let you go, you’d best reconsider.”
“Because of Jenny?”
“Because of you.” He bent so close, his lips were almost touching hers. “I’ve waited, Tess... waited for you to come to your senses...”
“Come to my senses!”
“...and marry me.” He moved a fraction closer so that his lips grazed hers. “I’ve waited for you to know that I’ll never leave you, that I’ll always love you, no matter what you do.” Suddenly he scooped her up into his arms. “I’m waiting no more, Tess.”
“What are you going to do?” He said nothing, but marched resolutely from the room. “Flannigan, put me down.”
He ignored her. His boots thundered against the hardwood floor as he made his way to their bedroom.
She looked at his face and then at the bed.
“We can’t always settle our differences here, Flannigan.”
He lowered her to the bed, then straightened up and ripped aside his shirt. Buttons went flying all over the room.
“Who says I’m settling differences?”
He sat on the edge of the bed, and his boots clattered to the floor. Next he peeled out of his tight jeans. Naked, Flannigan was a magnificent sight.
“If you think you can win me with your body, Flannigan, you’re wrong.”
Even as Tess spoke, she was lifting her arms toward him.
“Who says I’m winning you?”
His eyes blazed as he ran his hands up her skirt and tore aside her tiny silk bikinis. With his hands under her hips, he lifted her to meet his thrust. When he was home, settled deep inside her, he propped himself on his elbows and gazed down into her eyes.
“I’m taking you captive, my love.”
“Flannigan.” He began to move, and the earth spun away.
“I’m planning to stay here, in this bedroom with you under me, until you say ‘yes.’“
“Flannigan... Flannigan.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Will you go away if I say yes this soon?”
“No. Ill never go away.” His movements became fierce and possessive. “Never.”
“Then, yes, Flannigan.” She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. “Yes.”
He gave her the smile that had been designed by angels.
“I think I’ll keep you captive anyhow, Tess, my girl.”