Jingle Bell Rock (17 page)

She shook her head but didn’t answer.

“You want me to ‘fess up? All right.” She didn’t even slow down. “Forever Blue is mine, the grand piano is mine, and I have more money in the bank than I ever thought I’d earn in my lifetime.”

“Good for you.”

“The club eats almost as much money as it makes, but a few of the songs I’ve written have done pretty well.”

She snorted. Again.

“Won’t you even stop and listen to me?” His own patience was wearing thin. “You know what your real problem is, don’t you? You want everything and everyone in your life to add up nice and neat just like a column of numbers.” His anger was coming close to matching her own. Lord, she gave up so easily! “Well, relationships don’t always add up. They’re messy and complicated and they change without warning. We don’t add up on your mental calculator, so you run at the first sign of trouble.”

He was the one who stopped suddenly on the sidewalk. The hotel was straight ahead, and Laura was headed unerringly for it. He was wasting his time; she’d never listen to reason when she was in this kind of mood.

“Make ‘em cry, Michael,” she said bitterly as she walked away. “Make ‘em cry.”

***

Her temper hadn’t cooled by the time she knocked on the hotel room door. Dammit, the room key was in her purse, and her purse was in Michael’s apartment. After a very short wait, the door swung open.

“Did you look through the peephole?” she asked too severely.

Jennifer took a step back. “Yes.”

Laura closed and locked the door, putting the chain in place with shaking hands.

“It didn’t go well?” Jennifer asked tentatively, and it was all Laura could do to keep from bursting into tears.

“No, it didn’t go well,” she snapped. “He’s
rich
.” Her voice broke, just a little.

Jennifer resumed her position on the bed. “And,” she drawled, “this is bad?”

It changed everything. How could she tell him about Megan now? He’d think she was after his precious money, the fortune he’d lied so well about. She was glad he’d done well, she really was, but he’d lied to her, played a game she didn’t even understand. “This is bad,” she whispered, more to herself than to Jennifer.

Megan was sitting on the floor cross-legged and engrossed in a game that involved little people and little cars and a little house. As Laura watched, Megan lifted her head and spoke softly to the empty air before her.

This Christmas was a nightmare. Megan was talking to ghosts, Michael had played a game with her, and, worst of all, Megan was not going to get what she wanted most for Christmas: her daddy. How was she going to explain that away?

Laura paced for a few minutes. It was a frustrating effort, as she tried to stay out of Megan’s way and not cross in front of the television Jennifer was watching. Finally she decided to seek refuge in the bathroom, telling the girls she was going to take a shower. A nice, long, cold shower.

***

Michael practically ran back to Forever Blue, and with every step he grew angrier. Laura hadn’t listened to him, any more than she’d listened five years ago. When she was angry she was unreasonable, pigheaded, distant...

He didn’t respond to Chuck’s or Susan’s greetings, but stormed up the stairs to his apartment. It wasn’t until be was inside with the door closed, studying the bed with its rumpled sheets and the black stockings on the floor, and the neatly discarded coat and purse, that he wondered if maybe she was right. He should have played her straight. Maybe tomorrow he could talk to her and make things right...

The truth hit him with sickening clarity. She was going to run again. There would be no tomorrow, not for them. By morning she’d be gone, dammit; he knew her well enough to know how she’d react. She’d write off her coat and purse as an acceptable loss, and be out of that hotel well before checkout time. She was probably already packing.

He should let her go. Maybe she’d been right when she left the first time. They didn’t have the same dreams, they didn’t see the same future. But dammit, he couldn’t stand another five years without her, another five years of wondering when—if—she was going to come back.

He scooped up the small purse and opened it. There was a wallet containing her driver’s license and forty bucks and a picture of Megan. Her cell phone. A lipstick and small comb were in the bottom of the purse, as well as a hotel room key. There was nothing here that couldn’t be replaced, and Laura would write off the losses rather than face him again, if she had her way.

He plucked the key from the bottom of the purse and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was one of those old-fashioned heavy keys attached to a triangular key chain with the room number stamped into the plastic. He hadn’t even known there was a hotel left that didn’t use keycards.

Chuck and Susan ignored him this time, as he rushed down the stairs and toward the exit. He ran most of the way to the Original Heartbreak Hotel, afraid that Laura would pack up and leave tonight rather than chance seeing him again. There hadn’t been time for her to pack and check out, but still he felt a touch of disquieting panic. Laura had always been one to run and hide from trouble, and he didn’t imagine this time would be any different.

Once he was in the lobby, he headed not for the elevators but for the stairs. She was, after all, just on the fourth floor, and there were only two elevators. He wasn’t in any mood to wait. By the time he reached Laura’s room, he was breathless. He needed to start jogging or something, he told himself as he stood before a suddenly imposing door. He had to catch his breath, and maybe while he was standing here he could think a little bit about what exactly he was going to say to Laura. At least he told himself that was the reason he stood in the hallway and took a few deep breaths before he knocked on the door. His hesitation had nothing to do with fear, certainly.

The door was opened but the chain stayed in place. A dark-haired girl stared at him through the narrow opening.

Michael tried a smile. “You must be Jennifer. I’m Michael Arnett. Laura left her coat and purse behind.” He held them up as evidence.

“So you’re the rich guy,” she said evenly as she slipped her fingers though the door to take the offered items. Michael drew them back slightly, out of her reach.

“I want to talk to Laura.”

“She’s in the shower.”

The girl’s expression told him nothing. She was slightly curious, but he had the feeling she was more interested in the movie that was playing in the background than in his floundering love life.

“Can I wait?” His patience was wearing thin, but he didn’t think it would be wise to break past the chain and into a room where a woman and two little girls were staying. He really didn’t want to spend this Christmas in jail. “Please?”

Jennifer was obviously trying to make up her mind. She looked him up and down judgmentally, and he wasn’t sure that he could pass this particular test.

And then Megan, adorable in pink flannel pajamas, squirmed into the picture, working her way past Jennifer’s legs and looking up at him. “Michael!” Her greeting was exuberant. “Elbis said it was you.” She tugged on Jennifer’s jeans. “Let him in. Elbis says let him in!”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Well, since you and Elvis recognize him I guess it’s okay.”

With obvious reluctance Jennifer closed the door, unlatched the chain, and then opened it again to admit Michael to the room. He held on to Laura’s coat and purse, afraid that once he relinquished the items he’d be ushered from the room.

He could hear the roar of the shower, and in spite of everything that had happened he pictured Laura there and wished he could join her. She’d listen to him, then, wouldn’t she? If he could only hold her and make her understand... It didn’t matter. The ever-vigilant Jennifer wasn’t likely to allow him to make his way past that bathroom door.

So he carried Laura’s purse and coat with him and headed toward the only inviting place in the room, a plush red velvet chair by the window. Jennifer plopped down on the bed and directed her attention to the television, and Megan bent over to pick up a couple of little plastic people from the floor.

As he lowered himself into the chair Megan bolted straight up. “No!”

He jumped to his feet and looked behind him to the empty seat of the chair, searching for a cherished toy he’d been about to squash. The chair was empty.

“Elbis is sitting there,” she said with an air of impatience. “You almost sat on him!”

There was a draft in this old room. A cold wind touched him as he stood there looking at the empty red chair, an unexpected chill that came and went quickly.

“Okay,” Megan said, calm again. “He moved. You can sit down now.”

Michael lowered himself cautiously into the chair, and deposited the coat and purse on the floor beside it. Minutes ticked past, excruciatingly slow minutes, and the shower roared on. He had so much to say, and even though he wasn’t sure how to put his feelings into words, he was anxious to see Laura face-to-face. Dammit, how long was she going to stay in there?

Forever, evidently. Jennifer, sprawled on her stomach across one of the beds, watched her movie and ignored him completely. A contented Megan played with her toys, on occasion making a comment to the space before her. Once, she even laughed for no reason at all. Michael found his foot pumping nervously as he waited.

Megan glanced up, her eyes focused on the expanse of nothing before her, and said, “Now?” She actually seemed to wait for an answer before placing her plastic people carefully on the floor and rising. She didn’t only face Michael then; she very purposely climbed into his lap, elbows and knees landing in all the wrong places until she was settled comfortably on his lap, squarely facing him.

“Elbis says you need some Bwylcweem,” she said seriously, reaching little hands up to push strands of hair gently away from his face.

“Oh, he does, does he?”

“Yes.” She seemed to enjoy playing with his hair, so he let her. She pushed it back and pulled it forward and lifted it straight up. As she entertained herself by running her fingers through his hair, he watched her face. Megan was a beautiful kid, with chubby cheeks and a wide mouth, and that fine hair just short of being truly red. Her skin was so soft and flawless it was amazing. He could see Laura there, in the way she turned her head and in the little button nose. They were so beautiful. They were both fragile, too, though neither was likely to admit it.

Megan pushed his hair back and finally let it go, and then her warm little hands settled gently on his face and she placed her nose on his and stared into his eyes.

His heart lurched and he held his breath. Was he imagining this? Looking into Megan’s eyes was like staring into a mirror, and the truth hit him like a thunderbolt. This was the reason Laura was back. Megan was his daughter. It couldn’t be a coincidence that her eyes were so much like his, could it? But why had she waited until now to tell him?

“Megan Michelle Marlow,” Jennifer said in what had to be an imitation of a frustrated Laura. “Get out of that man’s lap. I’m sure he doesn’t want you crawling all over him.”

Megan Michelle Marlow
. No other man’s last name, and Michelle... a feminine form of Michael... “It’s all right,” Michael muttered.

This little girl was his daughter, and as the truth settled in he didn’t know whether to be happy or angry or indignant. Right now, all he really wanted to do was cry, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

“How many days until Christmas?” she asked, evidently not recognizing the importance of this moment.

“The day after tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.” His voice was deceptively calm and even.

She jumped up and down a little, but her face stayed close to his. “Goody! I hope I get what I asked for. Mommy said we’ll see, and that usually means no, but sometimes it means yes.”

He didn’t want her to crawl down and start playing with her toys and talking to her imaginary friend Elvis. He wanted her to stay right where she was, for now. He wanted her close. “What did you ask for? A new doll? Some more little people?”

“No,” she said with pursed lips. “I didn’t ask for toys this year.”

“What did you ask for?”

She settled her nose on his again and stared into his eyes. “My daddy.”

His heart nearly thudded to a halt.

“Caitlin and Stephanie and Emily, they’re my bestest friends in my class at school, they all have daddies,” she said, her voice fast and high. “Justin has two daddies, but one is his real daddy and one is his step-daddy, and I don’t think it’s fair that he has two daddies and I don’t even have one.”

“Not fair at all,” he said numbly.

“Mommy said we don’t need a daddy, but I think we do, so I asked Santa to bring me my daddy for Christmas.” She took a deep breath. “Do you think Santa will leave him under the tree at Grandma’s house? That’s where he usually leaves my pwesents, at Grandma’s house.”

“You never know.”

The roar of the shower ceased suddenly, and it was all Michael could do to keep from carrying Megan to the bathroom door and asking Laura how she could accuse him of lying when she’d told the biggest lie of all. But Megan clambered down off his lap and returned to her little people, and Michael rose slowly.

He wasn’t going to let another argument separate them. Not now, when he had everything he’d ever wanted waiting before him. All he had to do was claim it. He was downright calm as he approached the bathroom door and knocked.

“I’ll be right out,” Laura called. Her voice was oddly thick, and he wondered if she’d been crying in the shower.

“No rush,” he answered calmly.

There was dead silence for a long moment, and then he heard the brush of her hand against the other side of the door. “Go away,” she whispered, plenty loud enough for him to hear.

“No. Not until you promise me that you’re not planning to leave here tomorrow morning.”

“It’s best—”

“Don’t run away again,” he pleaded. “Give me... give me tomorrow to change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind,” she insisted.

“Then you’ve got nothing to lose,” He, on the other hand, had everything to lose. “One day, Laura. Think of it as a Christmas present to make up for all the Christmases we missed.”