Love, Albert Page 8

  He glanced over at the tickets on the dresser. He should probably let Vicky know where he was heading, give her a chance to get on the wagon too. Seemed only polite considering how much she loved ribs. Loved to get her fingers all sticky and then lick them clean, one by one. Dipping a fingertip into her mouth, pulling it out. Dipping again …

  He pushed away from the window. Or he could shove the ticket under her door. Let her do with it as she pleased, and hand her a wet wipe if he saw her there.

  Reid turned down the volume on the television, and realized she was on the phone, her voice rising and falling like music. She wouldn’t be talking to the kids. She’d promised to rap on the wall if she connected with them, leaving either Mr. Robinson or the Claytons or perhaps a handyman to take those tiles down. Someone to help her close the deal so she could buy herself a brand-new life with blue shutters and a front lawn.

  Reid was tempted to turn the television up again. Be completely selfish and hope the deal died, putting those shutters on the back burner awhile longer. But he heard her walking back and forth, muttering to herself, and knew what he wanted most in life. He wanted her to be happy. And he would do whatever he could to make that happen.

  He crossed to the phone on the dresser and punched in the number for Zachary Kidd, the best handyman/mechanic at North Star who just happened to owe Reid a favor.

  He picked up on the third ring. “Who is it?”

  Reid smiled. No preamble, no hello, just straight to business. “Who do you think?” he said and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Well, he lives and breathes,” Zack said. “How the hell are you?”

  Zachary Kidd was six feet of hair and testosterone. The kind of guy who loved women, but didn’t understand a thing about them. Consequently, he’d been married twice, and was about to get down on his knees to number three the night Vicky kicked Reid out of the apartment. Naturally, he’d done what any good buddy would do, he’d left his love of the moment and gone to stand by his pal. Matching him drink for drink at the bar, and later that night, feeding him lines when Reid decided to scale Mr. Ogrizinski’s trellis to reach her window.

  Soft. What light through yonder window breaks. ’Tis Vicky, and damn is she hot.

  Much of that night was a blur, but Reid remembered clearly the moment when she stepped onto the balcony. Her smile so sweet, her fingers so quick, so deft as she unclipped the brackets and gave the trellis a push, testing the theory that a drunken object when dropped from a height of ten feet will always land on its friend.

  While Zack’s Shakespeare wasn’t up to much, his loyalty was unfailing. He’d spent weeks after that listening, commiserating, and finally getting mad. Telling Reid to go home where he belonged, because he wasn’t any fun without Vicky.

  “Angie called,” Zack said, and went on about his girlfriend, the problems they’d had, and the restaurant where he was going to try the proposal again. Skirting the subjects of Vicky, North Star and the incident in Seattle.

  Reid opened the doors himself, starting with “So what’s the word at North Star?”

  He heard Zack light a cigarette and draw the smoke in deeply. “We miss you,” he said at last. “What more can I say?”

  “You can say whether or not Bob’s scheduled another checkride for me.”

  North Star was a small firm, a lean, mean David in a business of Goliaths. The reason for their success was the owner, Bob McNamara. He’d been a fighter pilot and ran a tight operation. He was honest and fair, a helluva nice guy. But when he had his mind set, there was no way to change it quickly.

  And in his mind, Reid was not fit to fly.

  Zack blew the smoke back out slowly. “Come on, Reid. You know I don’t hear everything.”

  “You hear enough.” Reid got to his feet, paced as far as the phone would allow. “He has no intention of letting me go back up, has he?”

  “He’s away right now, is all. Down visiting his brother in Houston or something. But I did hear him say he’ll look into it. As soon as things settle down.”

  Reid stopped dead. “Zack, what’s going on there?”

  “The lady in Seattle. She’s thinking of suing the firm.”

  “For what?”

  “Mental anguish.”

  “What anguish?”

  “Not her. The cats. Apparently one of them is losing fur.”

  Reid shook his head. “It’s almost summer. Cat’s do that.”

  “But this one’s losing more than usual. And two more are off their food.”

  “How could she tell? I have never seen cats that thin. They looked like rats when they were wet.”

  “That’s in the lawsuit, too. Apparently their skin doesn’t react well to water.”

  Reid lay back and closed his eyes. “How much does she want?”

  “Half a million. Turns out the stud cat, the real champion, isn’t interested in the ladies anymore. Not since the night you set them free.”

  “What else was I supposed to do with a cockpit full of cats?” Reid sighed. “What does Bob say?”

  “He’s not worried. Not really. Not in his heart, I’m sure. But she’s got this big lawyer, and you know how they can be.”

  “So he’s worried sick.”

  “Pretty much, yeah. But it won’t affect your checkride. I’m sure he’ll schedule that just as soon as he’s sure everything is okay with you. That you won’t… you know …”

  “Lose it again. I understand.” Reid got to his feet, walked to the window. “Tell Bob I’ll call in a day or two. And tell him I’m with Vicky for the weekend. That should make him feel better.”

  Zack brightened. “No kidding? That’s fabulous, man.”

  “Don’t get excited. We’re not back together, just fulfilling a family obligation. And before you ask, the trip’s not going so well. The MG was stolen.”

  Zack groaned. “Oh, man. I love that car.”

  They sighed together. Zack took another drag, and asked, “So have you told Vicky about North Star. Or the cats?”

  Reid watched the crew setting up for the next show at the bank. “There hasn’t been a good time.”

  “No wonder you’re not back together. Communication is the key to a good relationship, man.”

  Reid gave a short laugh. “Look who’s giving advice to the lovelorn.”

  “Hey, listen. I may not be quick, but at least I pay attention. I made a lot of mistakes with my first marriages. Didn’t understand their needs, didn’t express my feelings, all that crap. But Angie’s giving me another chance and I’m not gonna blow it.”

  “Well, you’re doing better than I am. I can’t even get Vicky to listen to me. I don’t know how to get through to her, what to say—”

  “Then don’t say anything.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that? Just sit back, say nothing, and watch her walk out of my life.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Think back to when you were first dating, getting to know each other. Did you sit her down and tell her how great you were? What a wonderful catch she’d made? No. You showed her, right? Brought her flowers and stuff.”

  Reid shook his head. “I’ve already tried those things.“

  “Then try something different. She’s not that same woman anymore, Reid. You have to find out what works now. Court her all over again.” Zack paused, smoked. “Trust me on this, man. I am in touch with my inner woman.”

  Reid smiled. “Is she blond?”

  “Go ahead, make jokes. But I’m not the one sleeping alone tonight.”

  From the corner of his eye, Reid saw a commercial flash on the television. Somebody’s lawn and garden center. The volume was down low, but he could still hear the announcer going on about flowering shrubs, annuals, ornamental trees—something Reid had avoided at all costs.

  Then the camera zoomed in on the gardening implements. Hoes, pitchforks, things for making clean, crisp edges, and finally a man with a lawn mower, pushing the thing back and forth, running a hand over it slowly, re
verently, as though it was a formula one race car and not a goddamn lawn mower.

  Find out what works now, Reid thought. A crash course in gardening would do it; but then could he follow through? Buy the house, dig the garden, trust himself not to break the ornamental tree. He turned away, already knowing the answer.

  Zack took another drag, and Reid could tell he was getting restless. “Well, you know I’m pulling for you, man. If you lose your car, you should at least get the woman. If there’s anything I can do.”

  Reid smiled when he heard a most unVicky-like curse on other side of the wall. “As a matter-of- fact, Zack, there is something.” He flopped down on the bed. “You ever do anything with mirror tiles?”

  SEVEN

  Vicky blew a kiss into the phone. “I miss you, too, darlin’.”

  She leaned over and rapped on the wall, pausing a beat to listen for Reid’s answering knock. “Are Oma and Opa spoiling the two of you?”

  Kira’s sigh was long and dramatic. “Mommy, we have had such a busy day.”

  “Tell her Jason had a nap,” Vicky’s mother called from somewhere in the house, her voice distant but distinct. “And tell her we’re about to have dinner.”

  “Oma says—”

  “I heard,” Vicky said. “Just tell me about your day.”

  While Kira rattled off the list of places and food, Vicky set the receiver down and dashed across the room to flip open the lock on the door; still not sure she was doing the right thing.

  Having Reid in her room could be asking for trouble. But making him place a separate call to her mother’s made no sense either, especially when it had taken so long to get an answer. And judging by what Kira was saying, it sounded as though they’d be just as unreachable tomorrow.

  He could come in, talk to his children and leave. Any other business they had to discuss could be done downstairs. With a crowd. And very bright lights.

  She snapped up the receiver again and pressed it to her ear.

  “.. and then we went to the farm.”

  “Tell her I made you wash your hands after.”

  Vicky laughed and sat on the edge of the bed, letting her daughter’s voice wash over her, and doing her best to block out her mother’s.

  “Oma let us ride the horse. And I thought, maybe when we get our own house—”

  “No horse.” Vicky glanced over at a knock on the door. “Are you two being good?” she asked and switched on another lamp.

  “I am,” Kira said, then lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “But Jason was very bad.”

  “It was an accident,” her mother called.

  Vicky froze. “Kira, what happened?”

  “Tell her everything is fine.”

  “Everything is fine,” Kira repeated, then whispered, “Opa is really mad.”

  “He’s not mad, he’s thinking.”

  Reid poked his head into the room and Vicky absently waved him over. “Kira, what is going on?”

  “What does it matter?” Her mother was on the phone now, and it sounded as though she’d been running. “Everything grows again.”

  “Grows?” Vicky groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead. Not her father’s garden. She was sure she’d put that on the list. In fact, she’d been very specific. Watch Jason at all times with the garden. But did anyone listen? Reid raised his hands in question. “It’s Jason,” Vicky said. “We’ve got to go—” She gave her head a quick shake. “I have got to go home.”

  “You do not,” Jane shouted, then cleared her throat and put a smile in her voice. “Are you having a good time?”

  Vicky held the receiver out to Reid. “You talk to her. I can’t get a straight answer.”

  “Jane,” he said. “What’s up?”

  Vicky folded her arms and walked the length of the room, listening to Reid laugh, make a few jokes before deftly turning the conversation around to whatever Jason had done. Which figured. It was only Vicky her mother would keep in the dark. Always meddling, packing lunches, thinking she knew what was best.

  Vicky grabbed the local directory from the nightstand and flipped it open, searching for a car rental, a taxi service, a limousine—anything that would get them to Seaport and Jackson’s Point in the morning in case the MG didn’t show up tonight.

  She jotted down the number of Village Bike Rentals and slammed the book closed. One way or another, she owed it to Albert to at least stand on that spot and say a few words. Then she could go home and tell her mother once and for all to butt out.

  She drummed her fingers on the phone book. Of course, that still left the issue of the silver key. She’d already discovered there were no Randolf-Joneses in the Seaport directory, and the eight Joneses she’d tried had never heard of Willy. She set the book down and wandered to the window. Maybe Willy had left the area, just like Albert. In that case, what would they do with the key?

  “Sounds like there was no real harm done,” Reid said.

  Vicky turned. “The roses, am I right?”

  He shook his head and kept talking to Jane. “Just a bald spot on the back of the dog’s neck. And one on his hip. Okay both hips.”

  Vicky dropped her head back. “The electric razor. I completely forgot.” She was on the move again, pacing, muttering. “I should have put it on the list. Should have told her put it up high, out of reach—”

  “She did,” Reid whispered as she passed. “Jason climbed up on the counter and used the toilet brush to knock it off the top of the medicine chest.”

  Vicky pursed her lips and stared at the floor. “The sad thing is, I can picture that.” Just as she could picture her poor mother scrambling to stay one step ahead of a toddler with no sense of fear, and coming up short every time.

  She waved her hands until Reid looked over. “Don’t tell her about the car. She’ll only worry.”

  She ignored his raised eyebrows and consoled herself with the fact that Jason’s little adventure could have been worse. He could have gone after the neighbor’s prize Samoyed, or the cat.

  “He got your father, too,” Reid said, and put a hand up to his head. “Just a little spot, back here.”

  Vicky winced. “But he had so little to start with.”

  A broad grin spread across his face. “Kira says not to worry. They’re taking Opa shopping for a hat right now.”

  Vicky couldn’t help smiling. That was Kira. Always fixing, always thinking ahead.

  “She also says, ‘The penny is working, so there.’ ”

  Always opening her mouth when she shouldn’t. Vicky reached for the phone. “Let me talk to her.”

  Reid held up a hand. “Kira says to tell you they’re leaving now and she’ll call you later.” His voice went soft. “Love you, too, baby. I will. Cross my heart.”

  Vicky punched his shoulder. “Reid.”

  “Kira, wait. Mommy wants…” He held the phone away from his ear. “She hung up. But she promised to talk to us again tomorrow.” Without warning, he looped a hand behind her head and drew her forward, pressing a kiss to her lips before setting her back on unsteady feet. “And I promised I’d deliver that.”

  Vicky scowled at his grin, swatted at his hand. Told herself her heart was only racing because he’d startled her. “Next time, put it in a note,” she said, and crossed to the dresser, well aware that they were alone, and a bed was only feet away at any given time. Just a hop, skip, and a …

  She fought a smile. The bedroom long jump. Reid’s best event.

  Vicky opened the drawer and took out a notepad, determined to stay focused, on track, and slightly out of reach. She tore a sheet of paper from the pad. “Was my father mad?”

  “Not at all. But apparently it’s a good thing he woke up when he did. He said to tell you that earrings will be expensive and isn’t there something else you’d rather have?”

  She sighed and picked up a pen. “I’ll hold out for the earrings.”

  “Probably a good choice,” Reid said as she put pen to paper. “What are you doing?” />
  “Making a list of things we’ll need until they find the car. Shampoo. Toothpaste.” She frowned at herself in the mirror. “Hairbrush.”

  He smiled at her reflection. “You look fine to me.”

  She raised a brow. Tangled curls. Smudged mascara. She looked like she just got out of bed. She lowered her eyes. No wonder he liked it.

  “How’s the dog?” she asked, adding brush, clips and hairpins to the list.

  “He’ll be fine when he sees what your mother put in his supper dish.”

  “She’s spoiling him, too, I’ll bet.” She jotted down lipstick, mascara and floss. “Still, the whole thing is my fault. I should never have left them. I should have found some other way.”

  “Vicky, you didn’t leave them. We did. And they’re in good hands.”

  She watched him come toward her in the mirror.

  “Remember when we brought Kira home from the hospital, and you hovered over her every second. Even when I was taking care of her, there you were, lurking in the doorway or around the corner. It wasn’t until your mother arrived that you finally slept, because you trusted her to look after Kira the same way you did.”

  “She does have a way with babies.” Vicky sighed, her anger softening, fading on a memory of lullabies and nights of much-needed sleep. “It’s just that I’ve never been this far away from them. I miss them. I worry about them. And she should have told me what was going on right away.”

  “She didn’t want you to worry. She wants you to have fun.”

  “You and I both know that what she wants is for us to get back together.” She lowered her eyes and, added deodorant to the list. “She’s as bad as Kira. Worse, in fact. Encouraging her to believe in penny wishes and moonbeams”

  “I wondered what she meant about the penny working.”

  Vicky made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “She made a wish, and now because of this trip, she’s got her heart set on it coming true.”

  “It could,” he said, and she made the mistake of looking up, seeing the mischief in his eyes. “It would be a shame to break her heart.”