All Cal wanted was his wife and family home. That wasn’t so much to ask…especially when he heard about the way she seemed to be spending her days. Just how necessary was it to take the kids to Disneyland? Okay, once, but they’d gone three, maybe four times. He’d lost count of their trips to the beach. This wasn’t supposed to be a vacation, dammit. He immediately felt guilty about his lack of generosity. She’d had a lot of responsibility and he shouldn’t begrudge her these excursions. Besides, she’d had to entertain the kids somehow.
Collecting the clean casserole dishes, Cal stuck them in the back seat of the car. He’d return them right now, rather than risk having Jane find the dish that belonged to Nicole Nelson.
His first stop was at the home of Savannah and Laredo Smith. After some minutes of searching, he found his neighbor in one of her rose gardens, winterizing the plants. They’d grown up living next door to each other, and Savannah’s brother, Grady Weston, had been Cal’s closest friend his entire life.
Savannah had been piling compost around the base of a rosebush, and she straightened when he pulled into the yard. She’d already started toward him by the time he climbed out of the car.
“Well, hello, Cal,” she said, giving him a friendly hug.
“Thought I’d bring back your dish. I want you to know how much I appreciated the meal.”
Savannah pressed her forearm against her moist brow. “I was glad to do it. I take it Jane’ll be home soon?”
“This afternoon.” He glanced at his watch and saw that he still had plenty of time.
“That’s wonderful! How’s her father doing?”
“Better,” he said. He didn’t want to go into all the complexities and details right now; he’d leave that for Jane.
“I should go. I’ve got a couple of other stops to make before I head to the airport.”
“Give Jane my best,” Savannah said. “Ask her to call me when she’s got a minute.”
Cal nodded and set off again. His next stop was Dovie and Frank Hennessey’s place. Besides a chicken pot pie, Dovie had baked him dessert—an apple pie. It was the best meal he’d eaten the whole time Jane had been in California. Dovie had a special recipe she used for her crust that apparently included buttermilk. She’d passed it on to Jane, but despite several attempts, his wife’s pie crust didn’t compare with Dovie Hennessey’s. But then, no one’s did.
Frank answered the door and gave an immediate smile of welcome. “Hey, Cal, good to see you.” He held open the back door and Cal stepped inside.
“You, too, Frank.” Cal handed him the ceramic pie plate and the casserole dish. “I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Jane and the kids.”
“So that’s why you’re wearing a grin as wide as the Rio Grande.”
“Wider,” Cal said. “Can’t wait to have ’em back.”
“Did Phil catch up with you?” Frank asked.
“Dad’s looking for me?”
Frank nodded. “Last I heard.”
“I guess I should find out what he wants,” Cal said. He had enough time, since it was only two o’clock and Jane’s flight wasn’t due until five. Even if it took him two hours to drive to the airport, he calculated, he should get there before the plane landed. Still, he’d have to keep their visit brief.
Frank nodded; he seemed about to say something else, then apparently changed his mind.
“What?” Cal asked, standing on the porch.
Frank shook his head. “Nothing. This is a matter for you and your dad.”
Cal frowned. He had to admit he was curious. If his father had something to talk over with him, Cal wondered why he hadn’t just phoned. From Frank and Dovie’s house, Cal drove down Elm Street to the seniors’ center. He found his father involved in a quiet game of chess with Bob Miller, a retired newspaperman.
“Hello, son,” Phil said, raising his eyes from the board.
“Frank Hennessey said you wanted to see me,” Cal said abruptly. “Hi, Bob,” he added. He hadn’t intended any rudeness, but this was all making him a bit nervous.
Phil stared at him. “Frank said that, did he?”
“I brought back Dovie’s dishes, and Frank answered the door. If you want to talk to me, Dad, all you need to do is give me a call.”
“I know, I know.” Phil stood and smiled apologetically at Bob. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Bob was studying the arrangement of chess pieces. “Take all the time you need,” he muttered without looking up.
Phil surveyed the lounge, but there was no privacy to be had. Cal checked his watch, thinking he should preface their conversation with the news that he was on his way to the airport. Before he had a chance to explain why he was in town—and why he couldn’t stay long—his father shocked him by saying, “I want to know what’s going on between you and Nicole Nelson.”
“Nicole Nelson?” Cal echoed.
Phil peered over his shoulder. “Perhaps the best place to have this discussion is my apartment.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Cal said, his jaw tightening.
Phil ignored him and marched toward the elevator. “You take back her dinner dishes yet?” he pried. “Or have you advanced to sharing candlelit meals?”
Cal nearly swallowed his tongue. His father knew Nicole had brought him dinner. How? Glen wasn’t one to waste time in idle gossip. Nor was Ellie. He didn’t like to think it was common knowledge or that the town was feasting on this nasty tidbit.
His father’s apartment consisted of a small living area with his own television and a few bookcases. His mother’s old piano took up one corner. Double glass doors led to the bedroom, with a master bath that held both a tub and a shower stall. Although he didn’t play the piano, Phil hadn’t sold it when Cal’s mother died. Instead, he used the old upright to display family photographs.
He walked over to a photo of Cal with Jane and the two children, taken shortly after Mary Ann’s birth. “You have a good-looking family, son.”
Cal knew his father was using this conversation to lead into whatever nonsense was on his mind. Hard as it was, he bit his tongue.
“It’d be a shame to risk your marriage over a woman like Nicole Nelson.”
“Dad, I’m not risking my marriage! There’s nothing to this rumor. The whole thing’s been blown out of proportion. Who told you she’d been out to the ranch?”
“Does it matter?” Phil challenged.
“Is this something folks are talking about?” That was Cal’s biggest fear. He didn’t want Jane returning to Promise and being subjected to a torrent of malicious gossip.
“I heard the two of you were seen together at the Mexican Lindo, too.”
“Dad!” Cal cried, yanking off his hat to ram his fingers through his hair. “It wasn’t like that. I was eating alone and Nicole happened to be there at the same time.”
“She sat with you, didn’t she?”
“For a while. She was meeting someone else.”
Phil’s frown darkened. “She didn’t eat with you, but you bought her a drink, right?”
Reluctantly Cal nodded. He’d done nothing wrong; surely his father could see that.
“People saw you and Nicole in the Mexican Lindo. These things get around. Everyone in town knows she brought a meal out to you, but it wasn’t Glen or Ellie who told them.”
“Then who did?” Even as he asked the question, the answer dawned on Cal. He sank onto the sofa that had once stood in the library of his parents’ bed-and-breakfast. “Nicole,” he breathed, hardly able to believe she’d do such a thing.
Phil nodded. “Must be. Frank thinks she’s looking to make trouble.” He paused, frowning slightly. “Dovie doesn’t seem to agree. She thinks we’re not being fair to Nicole.”
“What do you think?” Cal asked his father. None of this made any sense to him.
Phil shrugged. “I don’t know Nicole, but I don’t like what I’ve heard. Be careful son. You don’t want to lose what’s most important over nothing. Use
your common sense.”
“I didn’t seek her out, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Cal said angrily.
“Did I say you had?”
This entire situation was out of control. If he’d known that recommending Nicole for a job at the bookstore would lead to this, he wouldn’t have said a word. It didn’t help any that Jane’s best friend, Annie Porter, owned Tumbleweed Books, although he assumed Annie would show some discretion. He could trust her to believe him—but even if she didn’t, Annie would never say or do anything to hurt Jane.
“You plan on seeing Nicole again?”
“I didn’t plan on seeing her the first time,” Cal shot back. “I don’t have any reason to see her.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Cal didn’t need his father telling him something so obvious. Not until he reached the car did he remember the casserole dish. With his father’s warning still ringing in his ears, he decided that returning it to Nicole could wait. When he had a chance, he’d tuck the glass dish in his pickup and drop it off at the bookstore. Besides, he no longer had the time. Because of this latest delay with his father, he’d have to hurry if he wanted to get to the airport before five, what with the rush hour traffic.
His wife and family were coming home.
Exhausted, Jane stepped off the plane, balancing Mary Ann on her hip. The baby had fussed the entire flight, and Jane suspected she might have an ear infection. Her skin was flushed and she was running a fever and tugging persistently at her ear.
With Mary Ann crying throughout most of the flight, Paul hadn’t taken his nap and whined for the last hour, wanting to know when he could see his daddy again. Jane’s own nerves were at the breaking point and she pitied her fellow passengers, although fortunately the plane had been half-empty.
“Where’s Daddy?” Paul said as they exited the jetway.
“He’ll be here,” Jane assured her son. The diaper bag slipped off her shoulder and tangled with her purse strap, weighing down her arm.
“I don’t see Daddy,” Paul cried, more loudly this time.
“He’s here…” Jane said, straining to see through the crowd.
Only, Cal wasn’t there. “He must’ve been held up in traffic,” Jane muttered, struggling to hide her disappointment.
“You said Daddy would be here.”
“I’m sure he’s on his way,” Jane told him, reaching for his hand. “Let’s sit down here and wait a few minutes,” she suggested, finding two seats together.
“I don’t want to sit again,” Paul complained. He crossed his arms defiantly. “I’m tired of sitting. I want my daddy.”
“Fine. If you don’t want to sit down, then stand by Mommy.”
“No.”
“Paul, please, I need you to be my helper.”
Mary Ann started to cry, tugging at her ear. Jane did what she could to comfort her daughter, but it was clear the child was in pain. She had Children’s Tylenol with her, but it was packed in the luggage. The checked luggage, of course.
Ten minutes later, after all the passengers had dispersed, Cal was still nowhere in sight. Jane glanced around, unsure what to do. Her husband had missed her so much he couldn’t be bothered to get here on time to meet her flight?
In an attempt to remain calm, she decided to head toward the baggage area. If Cal did show up, he’d figure out where she was. If she got their suitcases, she could at least take out the medication for Mary Ann.
With the help of a friendly porter, she collected the suitcases and opened the smaller one, looking for the Tylenol. She’d found it just as she heard her name announced over the broadcast system.
“That must be your father,” she told Paul.
“I want my daddy!” the boy shrieked again.
Jane wanted Cal, too—and when she saw him she intended to let him know she was not pleased. She located a house phone, dragged over her bags and, kids in tow, breathlessly picked up the receiver.
She was put through to Cal.
“Where the hell are you?” he snapped.
“Where the hell are you?” She was tempted to remind him that she had three suitcases and two children to worry about, plus assorted other bags. The only items he had to carry were his wallet and car keys. Dammit all, she’d appreciate a little help!
“I went to the gate and saw that I’d missed you and now I’m here in the baggage area,” he told her a little more calmly.
“So am I.”
“You aren’t at carousel A.”
“No, I’m one down at B. That’s where I’m supposed to be.” She tried to restrain her impatience. “Do you mind if we don’t argue about this just now?”
“Stay right there and I’ll meet you,” Cal promised, sounding anxious.
Two minutes later Paul gave a loud cry. “Daddy! Daddy!”
There he was. Cal strolled toward them, wearing a wide grin as Paul raced in his direction. He looked wonderful, Jane had to admit. Tanned and relaxed, tall and lean. At the moment all she felt was exhausted. He reached down and scooped Paul into his arms, lifting him high. The boy wrapped his arms around Cal’s neck and hugged him as though he never intended to let go.
“Welcome home,” Cal said. Still holding Paul, he pulled her and the baby into his arms and gently embraced them.
“What happened?” Jane asked. “Where were you?”
“Kiss me first,” he said, lowering his head to hers. The kiss was long and potent, and it told Jane in no uncertain terms how thrilled he was to have her back.
“I’m so glad to be home,” she whispered.
“I’m damn glad you are, too.” He placed his son back on the floor; Paul gripped his hand tightly. “I’m sorry about the mixup.” Cal shook his head. “I gave myself plenty of time, but I stopped off to see my dad and got a later start than I wanted. And then traffic was bad.”
Jane sighed. Of all the days to visit Phil! Knowing she was going to have her hands full, he might have been a bit more thoughtful.
The hour and a half ride into Promise didn’t go smoothly, either. Keyed up and refusing to sleep, Paul was on his worst behavior. Mary Ann’s medication took almost an hour to kick in, and until then, she cried and whimpered incessantly. Jane’s nerves were stretched to the limit. Cal tried to distract both children with his own renditions of country classics, but he had little success.
When he pulled into the driveway, Jane gazed at the house with a sense of homecoming that nearly brought tears to her eyes. It’d been an emotional day from the first. Her mother had broken down when she dropped Jane and the kids off at LAX; seeing their grandmother weep, both children had started to cry, too. Then the flight and Mary Ann’s fever and her difficulties at the airport. Instead of the loving reunion she’d longed for with Cal, there’d been one more disappointment.
“You and the kids go on inside, and I’ll get the luggage,” Cal told her.
“All right.” Jane unfastened her now-sleeping daughter from the car seat and placed her against one shoulder.
Paul followed. “How come Daddy’s going to his truck?” he asked.
Jane glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know.” He seemed to be carrying something, but she couldn’t see what and, frankly, she didn’t care.
What Jane expected when she walked into the house was the same sense of welcome and familiar comfort. Instead, she walked into the kitchen—and found chaos. Dishes were stacked in the sink and three weeks’ worth of mail was piled on the kitchen table. The garbage can was overflowing. Jane groaned and headed down the hallway. Dirty clothes littered the floor in front of the washer and dryer.
Attempting to take a positive view of the situation, Jane guessed this proved how much Cal needed her, how much she’d been missed.
She managed to keep her cool until she reached their bedroom. The bed was torn apart, the bedspread and blankets scattered across the floor, and that was her undoing. She proceeded to their daughter’s room and gently set Mary Ann in her crib; fortunately she didn’t
wake up. Jane returned to the kitchen and met Cal just as he was walking in the back door with the last of her bags.
Hands on her hips, she glared at him. “You couldn’t make the bed?”
“Ah…” He looked a bit sheepish. “I thought you’d want clean sheets.”
“I do, but after three hours on a plane dealing with the kids, I didn’t want to have to change them myself.”
“Mommy! I’m hungry.”
Jane had completely forgotten about dinner.
“The house is, uh, kind of a mess, isn’t it?” Cal said guiltily. “I’m sorry, honey, my standards aren’t as high as yours.”
Rather than get involved in an argument, Jane went to the linen closet for a clean set of sheets. “Could you fix Paul a sandwich?” she asked.
“Sure,” Cal said.
“I want tuna fish and pickles,” Paul said.
“I suppose your mother let him eat any time he wanted,” Cal grumbled.
Stephanie had, but that was beside the point. “Let’s not get into this now,” she said.
“All right.”
By the time Jane finished unpacking, sorting through the mail and separating laundry, it was nearly midnight. Cal helped her make the bed. He glanced repeatedly in her direction, looking apologetic.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said again.
Jane didn’t want to argue, but this homecoming had fallen far short of what she’d hoped. At least Mary Ann was sleeping soundly. But without a nap, Paul had been completely out of sorts. Cal had put him down and returned a few minutes later complaining that his son had turned into a spoiled brat.
Jane had had enough. “Don’t even start,” she warned him.
He held up both hands. “All right, all right.”
They barely spoke afterward.
At last Cal undressed and slipped between the fresh sheets. “You ready for bed?”
Exhausted, Jane merely nodded; she didn’t have the energy to speak.