Just Destiny Page 10

“Well,” he headed for the door and Ritz, who watched the door hopefully, wagging her tail. “Want me to let her out?”

  She nodded.

  “Bye.” Steve let Ritz out into the backyard, then walked back to his kitchen.

  Jenny wanted to have Gabe’s baby after he’s dead? In his mind’s eye, Steve morphed her belly until it swelled huge, heavy with child. Crazy. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and the bottle opener off the counter. With a quick flick of his wrist, he popped the cap and pitched the opener back in the drawer.

  “So what da ya say, Gabe?” He looked up into the air. “Do ya want to become a daddy from where you are?”

  He listened carefully, not sure what he was expecting, but hoping for some divine guidance. Nothing? Fine. He threw his head back and took a sip of beer. The hoppy, bitter taste of the pale ale suited his mood.

  He walked into the family room and threw himself into his lounge chair. “I don’t know, somehow it just doesn’t seem right.” He slowly wagged his head from side to side. “Sometimes we humans frighten me with the things we discover. I mean, look at cloning. Man, there’s a dangerous field.

  “Some things are better left alone. You know what I mean, Gabe? I mean, just because we can clone animals, doesn’t mean we should. It’s like all those thousands of times doctors step in to prevent death but maybe shouldn’t have.

  “You were lucky, buddy. She let you go. I gotta give her credit,” he inclined his head. “Took a lot of guts to turn off that machine. She could have kept your body going for months, costing society a ton of money and grinding her down with false hope, but she didn’t.” He took a long pull of his beer.

  “By now you know I feel.” He smiled wryly. “I sure didn’t plan it. You might have a talk with the Man upstairs and tell Him I didn’t appreciate that joke. Fallin’ for my best friend’s wife? That’s just plain cruel. Nothing would have come of it—I swear. Neither of you would’ve ever known. You two were so damn happy—so good together. I envied you that. Hopefully I can get it with Annie.”

  He stared at the label on the beer bottle till it blurred. “I gotta tell you, Jen wanting your baby now really threw me. I didn’t even know you could do things like that. This is nuts. You’re gone. Jen’s alone and hell-bent on having your baby. And she wants me to help. Fuck.”

  He’d see what Allen Blakeman knew about cases like this. Allen was the firm’s best family attorney. Maybe he’d take Jenny’s case. Probably not. The firm had a reputation for being conservative. They’d probably run from this case faster than loan sharks from the IRS. But he’d try.

  His cell buzzed, announcing a text. Annie was confirming Saturday’s date. He quickly tapped out a response. A barbecue with her kids he could handle. Play a little ball, feed them hotdogs, pickles and fries, and they were happy campers. Simple. Uncomplicated. Perfect.

  Chapter 9

  Steve rose up out of the pile of leaves, snarling and growling ferociously.

  “Where are they?” he bellowed in a deep, dramatic loud voice. “Where are those little children?” He looked at his fiancée, who sat on the steps and raised a questioning eyebrow as she leafed through a bridal magazine.

  A high-pitched giggle erupted from a bush to his right. Annie grinned and pointed to the side of his house.

  “Ah, ha.” Steve ran to the bushes and scooped up the giggling three-year-old. He tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and captured both of her ankles in one hand to steady her.

  “Where’s the boy?” he roared, tickling Sophie until she shrieked with delight.

  “Twee.” She gave up her brother.

  Steve stalked over to the crabapple and snagged Josh as he tried to scramble higher to safety. With the preschooler draped over his shoulder and her brother slung under one arm, Steve lumbered back to the huge pile of leaves.

  He tossed the kids in the pile and tickled them before raining leaves all over them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of blue. He stilled and looked next door.

  “Be right back.” He gave them a mock fierce scowl. “Don’t run away again.”

  * * *

  Annie lifted her gaze from the lawn where Steve wrestled Josh and Sophie in the leaves, to the blue Jeep pulling in the Harrison’s drive. From her seat on the front steps, she smiled and swung her arm wide in a big wave. Jenny got out of the car and flapped her hand in Annie’s direction—almost as if swatting an annoying bug, before heading for the trunk.

  Steve broke away from the kids and trotted across the lawns. He greeted Jenny with a heart-melting grin, before lifting two large paper grocery bags from the truck and slamming the lid closed. With the springy step of an athlete, he followed Jenny into her house.

  Hmm. Jenny didn’t put up any protest, casually accepting his help as if almost expecting it. Figured.

  “Joshie, be careful you don’t land on your sister,” Annie called out when the five-year-old began launching himself into the pile of leaves. She looked next door at the open garage. How long does it take to drop off two bags of groceries?

  “Sophie, come here, honey. You’ve got leaves in your hair,” Annie said, but the preschooler ignored her.

  She licked her finger and flipped the magazine page while watching the Harrison’s house out of the corner of her eye. Annie snatched up her phone and sent Steve a quick message. Finally he strolled back across the lawn.

  “She’s not completely helpless, Steve. She only had two bags.”

  “Jenny’s going through a rough time.”

  “Her husband died, it’s not as if she has a terminal illness.”

  “That’s right,” he nodded. “Her husband died. Have a heart, Annie.”

  Steve stood there with a lock of hair draped across his forehead and his hands anchored at his lean waist. A University of Michigan T-shirt molded nicely to his defined chest muscles. Even sweaty and messy her guy was hot.

  “You don’t have to rush to her side every minute.”

  “I don’t. And maybe if you made a little effort, I wouldn’t have to. Did you see how sad she was? Why don’t you take her some ice cream and try to cheer her up?”

  “Ice cream?”

  “Yeah. Peppermint’s her favorite. There’s a new carton in the freezer.”

  “Ice cream’s so fattening.”

  “Jenny could use fattening up; she hardly eats since Gabe died, and you—” Steve grabbed Annie’s arm and pulled her to her feet. Swinging an arm around her waist, he brought her tight against him. “You, have a stunning body. You hardly need to worry about weight.”

  Soothed by the compliment, she smiled. “Okay. For you.”

  “That’s my girl. Meanwhile, I’m going to find me an Englishman,” he growled and turned away from her. Steve made a big show of sniffing the air. First to the right, then to the left. “Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum. I smell the blood of an Englishman,” he roared and rushed to the giggling children hiding beneath the leaves.

  Annie smiled wistfully. Steve was so good with Josh and Sophie. He’d make a wonderful stepfather—far better than their real dad. Ryan had always been off playing sailor. Every darn summer she’d had to plan their lives around that stupid Mackinac race. Every winter he’d tried to get her to spend more and more time at his parents’ second home in Florida, just so he could sail. Like he was ever going to be in the America’s Cup. He needed to grow up and face reality.

  But he hadn’t. And when he did spend time with their children, he took them to inappropriate movies, stuffed them with ice cream and cotton candy at the zoo, allowing them to eat until their tummies hurt. And who got stuck with sick kids? Her. Her ex was a juvenile pain in the butt. Sometimes she suspected he ignored her rules and advice to punish her. Steve was much more mature—and trainable.

  Annie was having loads of fun planning their spring wedding. Steve had wanted to elope, but no way was she going to miss out on a wedding with all the trimmings. Though not a baseball player anymore, Steve still had fans who would love to see pictures
of their special day. After all, it was his first wedding and he could afford it.

  She picked up her thick magazine and entered the dark foyer. Padding through the house, she glanced at the sparse living room with its ugly leather couch and modern glass coffee table. Leather and glass? She wrinkled her nose. Framed photos of Steve’s family lined the marble fireplace mantle. He even displayed his nieces’ and nephews’ school pictures.

  Now all she had to do was convince Steve that a fresh start required a fresh house. Perhaps a classic Tudor on the country club golf course. She wanted to start their new life together without any baggage—and Jenny Harrison was pretty obvious baggage.

  In the kitchen, Annie dropped the magazine on the counter, wandered over to a stack of stationary sitting next to a pile of ripped envelopes. Recognizing Steve’s handwriting, she picked one up.

  “Doctor and Mrs. Henry?” She frowned. It wasn’t enough to invite Jenny everywhere with them, but now he was carrying her groceries and writing her thank you notes? What else was her fiancé doing for his friend? She needed to have a talk with Steve—right after she made nice with Jenny. Maybe she was overreacting.

  In the freezer, Annie found two quarts of Dryer’s Slow-Churned Peppermint ice cream. She pulled one out and moved aside a container of Denali Extreme Maximum Fudge Moose Tracks, looking for strawberry or vanilla, or anything she remotely liked, but that was it. Chocolate or peppermint. Maybe she wasn’t overreacting.

  Annie found a scrap of paper and started a grocery list. Strawberry ice cream. Not that she even liked ice cream, but it was the principle. She grabbed her Coach purse and fished around for her lipstick. With two quick swipes, she refreshed her makeup and smacked her lips together. She ran a brush through her straight blonde hair then fluffed it before stuffing the brush and lipstick into her bag and tossing the purse back onto the table. She snatched the ice cream from the counter and headed for the path between the side-by-side driveways.

  At the Harrison’s back door she knocked twice. Maybe Jenny was napping or in her bedroom crying. She shifted the cold dessert and backed away from the door, suddenly nervous. This was so awkward. She must care for Steve a lot to try to cheer up Jenny Harrison.

  Ordinarily she and Jenny hardly said more than a few sentences to each other in a whole evening, and now she was trying to comfort her fiancé’s friend. What was she supposed to do? What could she say? Annie heard rustling in the kitchen and then footsteps. Jenny opened the door.

  She pasted on a big smile on her face. “Hi, Jenny. I just thought I’d come over for a little visit and see how you’re doing.”

  Wow, Steve was right. The poor thing didn’t look well at all. There were huge dark craters under her eyes that no amount of makeup could hide. And her skin looked pale—almost pasty. Was she sick? Annie took a step back, hoping she wasn’t contagious.

  She had the kids this weekend and Ryan was totally incapable of getting Sophie to Pee-wee tennis and then Joshie to Coleman’s birthday party—she hadn’t even wrapped his gift yet and Ryan was hopeless at wrapping. Nope—she couldn’t afford to get sick.

  “I’m fine,” Jenny said.

  “I can come back later if this is a bad time. I know you’re probably busy with work, and Gabe stuff. I…” She shrugged. “It’s just that we didn’t get to talk much at the funeral.”

  “I’d ask you in, but the house is really a mess.” Jenny picked nervously at her navy sweatshirt.

  “Oh, that’s okay.” Annie waved a hand. “I don’t mind.” She raised the melting container and smiled brightly. “I brought you ice cream. Peppermint.”

  “Peppermint?” Jenny’s looked at the container before pushing the door open. “That’s my favorite.”

  “Mine too,” Annie said with a bright smile as she rushed into the kitchen. It wasn’t very messy—a few dishes out—certainly no worse than her own kitchen after Bunko night. Jenny left the inside door open. Folding her arms across tiny breasts, she tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. Poor thing, didn’t anybody ever tell her that doing that would make her ears stick out like Dumbo’s?

  “Thanks for the ice cream.” She took it and put it in the freezer. “Would you like something to drink?” Jenny peered inside the nearly empty refrigerator. “I have Coke Zero and…I’m sorry, I only have Coke Zero and water.”

  Annie internally shuddered. Soda was so bad for you. It accelerated aging, wrecked your complexion, the caramel coloring was made of carcinogens, and even diet soda contributed to belly fat. No. Thank. You. “Water will be fine.”

  Jenny reached into the cabinet for a clean glass. “So…I saw Steve out playing with your kids. His case must be going well.”

  “What case?”

  “The hazing one.”

  Annie frowned and took a seat at the counter.

  “Fraternity.” Jenny said, trying to prod her memory. “The kid who was beaten in the fraternity hazing. They started the trial this week.”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t sound familiar. Steve doesn’t really talk about work much. We’re busy with the kids and planning our wedding.”

  “Ah-h.” Jenny nodded, but Annie had a feeling she didn’t really understand.

  “So…well, I’m not sure how to go about this—nobody’s ever died on me,” she waved a nervous hand at her chest. “But, is there some way I can help? Maybe…take you out to lunch? Oh, I know. I know.” She bounced on her stool, impressed with her brilliant idea. “How about a girl’s day at the spa? We could get facials, mani-pedis, and then finish up with a massage and an affinoderm seaweed wrap—they’re all the rage now.” She smiled encouragingly. “It’d be fun.”

  Jenny put down her glass and stared at her. “Annie, why’re you here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you sitting in my kitchen trying to pal up to me?”

  “I’m just trying to be nice.”

  “And you feel sorry for me.”

  “No—well, of course I do. Your husband died.”

  “Well don’t. I’m fine.”

  Annie felt insulted at the rejection. Like she wasn’t good enough to be Jenny’s friend. “Why don’t you like me?”

  Jenny blinked stupidly. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve never liked me and I want to know why. What’d I ever do to you?”

  “I don’t dis—”

  “Yes, you do. Do you think I’m stupid? It’s Steve, isn’t it? You’re jealous that I’m marrying him.”

  Amusement brought a spark to Jenny’s dull eyes. “Hardly. Steve’s just a friend—a big brother really.”

  “No-o-o, women like me—unless they’re jealous of my man. So you should like me. It must have something to do with him.” Her eyes narrowed, watching Jenny for a telltale blush or any sign of guilt or embarrassment, but Jenny just stood there swallowed by sweats two sizes too big, staring at her with those dull blue eyes.

  “Okay, you want to know the truth? The truth is, I do care about Steve. He’s a good friend and I don’t want to see him hurt.”

  “You think I’ll hurt him?”

  “Look, I really don’t want to get into this. Thanks for the ice cream—” Jenny moved toward the door.

  “No. I really want to know.” Annie hurried after her. “You think I would hurt Steve?”

  Jenny sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “Look, I just think you’re not right for him, that’s all.”

  Well, that stung. “I’m not right for him? What? Like I’m not good enough for him? Then who is? You?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Annie raised her chin and leaned forward. “Well, I’ve got a news flash for you, little Ms. Widow Reporter, no one will ever be good enough for Steve in your eyes ’cause you’re in love with him yourself. But you’d better get over it.” She held up her left hand and waved her diamond at Jenny. “I’m the one wearing his ring and I’m going to marry him. So you can forget your pitiful little poor-me-widow tricks.”

&nbs
p; Jenny’s eyes sprang open and her jaw dropped wide in a satisfyingly shocked look. “My what?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m onto you, sister.” Annie waved an index finger. “I’ve watched you manipulate your husband and Steve.” She raised her voice and opened her eyes wide in imitation of Jenny, “Oh, honey, I left my coat in the car. Would you be a dear and get it for me?” She fluttered her eyelids. “Oh, Steve, I’m too short to reach the wine glasses. Would you mind?”

  “I can’t help that I’m short.”

  Short, beautiful, and vulnerable. Annie simmered. “Get a step stool. You’ve had two men at your beck and call—”

  “Two men?” Jenny raised an eyebrow. “I am good.”

  Annie narrowed her eyes, pissed that Jenny dared mock her. “You just sit around batting those big blue eyes to manipulate men to do whatever you want. I bet you’re even a crier—of course you’re a crier, it’s the best way to get to men. You’re a spoiled brat is what you are.

  “Now that your husband’s not around to dance attendance on you, you turn to Steve—knowing full well that he’s such a sweet guy that you can pull that sympathy card into the next century and he’ll keep falling for it.

  “Well, I’m sick of it. Steve’s engaged to me, not you. Find another man to wait on you, princess. Just friends, my ass.” She paused before adding, “And if it’s true that you’re really just friends, you’re even more despicable than I thought. Friends don’t use friends. If you had any decency, you’d leave him alone.”

  Annie brushed past her and through the door. Pausing in the driveway, she looked back over her shoulder. “Enjoy your ice cream, princess.”

  Annie walked across the yard, adding a little extra swing to her hips when Steve turned and spotted her. I’ll be damned if that little widow’s gonna take my man.

  He tossed Sophie onto his shoulders and came over. “Well? Did she like the ice cream?”

  Annie shrugged. “She kept it and said she’d eat it later.” She leaned in and brushed her breast against his arm. “You’re right, babe, she did need cheering up. I offered to take her to lunch. She wasn’t keen on that, but she did like the idea of a day of pampering at the Coloseum International.”