More Than Friends (50 page)

"As a matter of fact," Sam suggested.

Annie was thinking that the discussion would be better saved for another day, when Jason opened his eyes. "He did?"

" "Fraid so," Sam said.

"Christ, Annie, I'm sorry. If I'd thought ahead, I'd have left a note." When Annie rolled her eyes, he asked, "What else did Honnemann say?"

She told him bits and snatches. Now that he was awake, now that Sam knew everything, and with the hearing harmlessly postponed, the situation was actually amusing. She ended by saying, "I imagine the

'old coot' is back in his office, terrified at the thought of being involved in a libel suit." She felt Sam's hand on her back and looked up into his face.

"We ought to let Jason get some rest," he said softly. She nodded. Pointing to Jason, she said, "Rest. I'll check in with you tomorrow." To his parents she said, "He's a good guy, probably the brightest in the department. I want him well and back in class." There were thank-yous and good-byes, then Sam was ushering Annie out of the hospital. When he

started driving, though, she frowned. "You're going in the wrong direction. We have to head out of town. My car's back at school."

"A little later. There's something I want to do first." The look he gave her was a hint. It was warm and suggestive. It fell from her eyes to her mouth to her chest and might have fallen farther if he hadn't been driving. As it was, he had to swerve to avoid a car barging in on the right.

Annie took his hand. She kissed it and held it to the pulse point at her neck. She didn't speak. Words would have been an intrusion on what was happening between them. She could almost see the tiny ends of the soul-wire that had been severed in October, winding around each other, knotting, connecting in a way that she doubted would ever again come undone. That was how she wanted it.

She never did tell Sam. Not with words. Rather, after he left the car with the doorman at the RitzCarleton, hustled her inside, and booked a room high up, with a view of the Public Garden that they barely saw, she showed him by loving him with her body.

He showed her back in spades.

J.D. arranged to take his children to dinner. He wanted to talk with them. He hadn't been much good at that in the past, but he hadn't been much good at taking care of himself until he had actually had to do it. He was hoping it would be the same with the kids.

After picking them up in Constance, he drove west to a landmark country inn. It had been there for years and reeked of history and stability. Since what he wanted to discuss with the kids involved

change, he thought the ambiance might comfort them. At least he hoped that. He wasn't sure it would work. He was new at psyching kids out.

Leigh looked well, not pregnant at all. Jana, who loved being with him, was in her glory. Michael swung along on his crutches, appearing to the unknowing bystander like a boy recovering from a broken leg. They started with chowder. J.D. decided not to bring up what he wanted to discuss then, lest something go wrong and the rest of the meal be spoiled. The same reasoning applied during the salad course, even during the in-between time when they were working on a second basket of cornbread. He considered speaking when the entrees arrived, but everyone was so amiable that he didn't have the heart.

Leigh talked about exactly what her baby looked like at that very moment. Jana talked, in gory detail, about the thriller she had seen the night before. Michael talked about his canoe.

J.D. knew he was testing him, and though the subject matter bothered him, he didn't say a word. He had thought a lot about that afternoon at Grady's. He hated the man. But it was an irrational hate. And J.D. prided himself on being a rational man. The rational part of him said that Grady had aided in Michael's recovery. It also said--though he would never admit it to Sam or Teke--that Grady wasn't dangerous. It also said that with Michael still angry at Sam, he could use a male role model now and again. J.D. wasn't thrilled about Grady being it. But it was okay. J.D. would see his kids, too. He had a lure. By the time dessert arrived, he was wondering just how to broach the topic. Jana solved the problem by asking, "So, what's doing with you and

Mom? That was what you wanted to talk about, wasn't it?"

"Smart girl," he said, and took the coward's way out. "What do you think is doing?"

"I think you're filing for divorce."

"How would you feel if I did?"

"She deserves it."

"That's not fair," Leigh said.

Michael agreed. "There are two sides to every story."

"Where'd you learn that?" Jana asked him.

The uneasy look he sent J.D. said that Grady had told him. J.D. was about to say something derogatory about pithy little maxims when he stopped himself. Sam might have said that, just as well as Grady, and he respected Sam. There were two sides to every story.

"We haven't sat down and discussed details," he told them, "but I do think a divorce is in the cards." There was a silence. He looked from one face to the next. "Well?"

"You don't look unhappy," Leigh said.

"Intellectually, I am. The dissolution of any marriage is unfortunate. Emotionally, though, I feel relieved."

"Relieved to be done with us?" Michael asked.

"God, no. If anything, I'm just starting." He'd be damned if he'd be irrelevant to the lives of his children. "A year ago I wouldn't have taken you guys out like this, not without your mom. It's not bad, is it?" He found a personal satisfaction in knowing he could handle it. No one answered.

"It's bad?"

"It's weird," Leigh said.

Jana shrugged. "I think it's just fine. Mom can be a pill sometimes."

"Are you still angry at her for what she did?" J.D. asked.

"Aren't you? It was awful."

"Yeah. I wouldn't recommend any of you doing it to your spouses. But I think"--he hesitated--"I think it may come out okay."

"Are you seeing someone new?" Leigh asked nervously.

"No."

Michael looked skeptical. "Will Clinger said his mom goes to your place, and that she calls you all the time."

"Will Clinger is as much of a gossip as his mother. Yes, she's been to my place. She brought breakfast once not too long after I moved in." He saw no point in saying what they had done on that occasion or subsequent ones. "We go back a long time, Ginny and I. We're good friends."

"Are you gonna be husband number five?"

"No way. Remarriage isn't in my immediate plans."

"What is?" Jana asked.

"Actually, a move to Palm Beach."

"Florida?"

"All the way there?"

"Are you kidding?"

Jana rose above the barrage to ask, "Are you opening a new branch of the firm, like Grandpa always talks of doing?"

"No. I'm joining a different firm." That was the whole point, to be where his father wanted to be but beat him to it. "This firm already has an office there."

"In Boston, too?" Michael asked.

J.D. thought he looked the most frightened of the three. It was understandable, since he was the youngest. It was also flattering. He liked the idea

that he would be missed. Irrelevant people weren't missed. "In Boston, too. But I'll be working in Palm Beach."

"Why?"

"It's so far!"

"Was Grandpa mad?"

"I haven't told Grandpa yet. I wanted you three to know first. No one else knows, not even my partners-to-be. If you all think it's okay, I'll call them tomorrow."

No one spoke.

J.D. felt a flicker of annoyance. In the past he would have told them his decision. He was trying to understand that they would be feeling unsettled. He was trying to give them a say in his future. He was trying to do what he thought Sam would have done. The least they could do was try to please him.

"Well?" he asked.

"What would you do if we said no?" Jana asked right back. I'd go anyway, he said silently. He had made his decision. He had to be out of Boston, away from Teke and Grady and away from John Stewart.

"If you said no, I'd try to explain to you that I need this change. I've been working under your grandfather's thumb for too long. I have to go out on my own. Besides, I have friends in Palm Beach. I like them, and they like me." Enough to bring their estate work to him, which would drive John Stewart nuts. "I'll have plenty of work to do, I want to take up golf, and the weather is warm. I'll get a great place with extra bedrooms for you guys, and a pool. Just think of the vacations you'll have."

"What about Suiters Island?" Michael asked.

"Ahhh, Michael," he said sadly, "the kinds of vacations we had at Sutlers Island are things of the past for me. You kids will still go. Same with the ski

place. And there may be times when I join you there, but I have to do something new now."

Leigh was wary. "Don't you want to be around when my baby is born?"

"I'll fly back the minute you need me."

"But it'll be born by the time you get here."

"Then I'll see it in the nursery. I'll be here, Leigh. I'm not abandoning you."

"Sure sounds it," Jana grumbled.

"No. There are telephones. We can talk whenever we want."

"You always yell when the phone bill's too high."

"I won't now. I promise. Besides, look at it this way, Jana. You have two more years of being at home, then you're going off to college. You'll probably see me as much down there then as you would if I were up here."

"You're leaving us alone with Mom."

"Is that so awful? Does she beat you?"

"No."

"Starve you?"

"God, no. She practically force-feeds us."

"You don't look to be suffering," J.D. said with a cursory glance at Jana's slender frame.

"She nags."

"About what? School? Talking on the phone too much?" J.D. couldn't find fault with that. "Spending more time with Zoe. You really should, Jana. Zoe's gone through a hard time, too."

"I know," Jana admitted, "but she is so sweet."

"What's wrong with that?"

"She's too good. She isn't enough fun. She won't go drinking with us back behind the town dump."

"With who?" J.D. demanded. "Who's drinking behind the dump?" Only after he had reverted to form did Jana's mouth quirk. "You're kidding me.

Don't do that, Jana. I don't like drinking, and I don't like the town dump."

"Did you buy a place in Florida yet?" Michael asked. He took a steadying breath and turned to the boy. "No. I was waiting until the decision was final." He looked from one to the other. "So?

What do you think? Should I do it?"

"Grandpa will hit the roof," Jana warned. "How would you like it if I did that to you?"

God save me from smart-mouthed daughters, J.D. thought. "I'd hit the roof, too," he said. "But maybe it would be different if it was you and me. Grandpa and I may be partners in the firm, but he's always been my boss. I don't think that's right. I wouldn't do it to you. If you wanted to come work in my firm, I'd keep my nose out of your business." Or try, at least, he prayed in another Sam-like move.

"Could I come to work in your firm?"

"I don't see why not, assuming you did well in law school."

"Even with all those other partners?"

"By then I'd have as much clout as any of them. If they didn't want you, you and I would take our business elsewhere." She brightened at that. "Really?"

"Sure." He was ambivalent about women lawyers, but he was sure Jana would be the best of the bunch. He broadened the invitation. "The same holds for either of you two. I'm not averse to having a family firm."

"Don't count on me," Leigh said. "I want six kids."

"And I want adventure," Michael said with a spirit J.D. hadn't heard from him since that long-ago Labor Day afternoon on Sutlers Island.

"It's just as well you're breaking up with Grandpa, because now I don't have to feel so bad about not being a lawyer.

I want to build boats, then take them exciting places." His eyes lit.

"I could cruise through the Everglades. That'd be near you."

"In a canoe?" Jana asked doubtfully.

"Not in a canoe," Michael answered. "In a hydrofoil. I'd be doing a documentary on the effects of global warming on the alligator population. Maybe I'd bring you a baby one to raise as a pet."

"Do that," Jana said with a lopsided smile, "and you'll find it right back in your bed, way down so you wouldn't know it was there until you stretched out your legs and touched the scales with your toes." Leigh made a face. "That's disgusting."

"What I really want," Michael said, "is a dog. I've always wanted one."

"Dad hates animals," Jana reminded him.

"But Dad's moving to Florida. Wouldn't it be great if he gave us a dog as a going-away gift?"

"We're not going away," Leigh said "He is."

"Then a leaving-us gift."

Three pairs of eyes turned to J.D. "Why do I feel like I'm being manipulated?" he asked. No one answered. And he didn't even care. He had good kids. If they wanted a dog, he'd get them a dog. As long as they left it with Teke when they came to visit him, they'd do just fine.

Teke was wearing the silk wrap J.D. had given her the Christmas before last, the one that was extraordinarily conventional. If she were ambitious, she would splash it with paint, dot it with rhinestones, or applique something bright and clashing onto the lapel. But it was comfortable--and the more she wore it, the more she had it dry-cleaned, the more comfortable it became. The robe held memories of Sunday morning brunches in the kitchen and late night tete-a-tetes with the kids. It was the one she had opened when she had given herself to Sam, the one she had run after Michael in, the one she had worn to the hospital that awful day.

The robe held a mixed bag of memories, but she needed them all. She realized that now, sitting on a corner of the sofa, nursing a cup of coffee. A person couldn't wipe out the memories that shaped her being. She was a blend of past, present, and future.

At the moment Teke was thinking mostly of the future. The kids were with J.D. The house was silent. Habit would have had her in the kitchen, making goodies for them to eat the next day. But she had consciously kept herself from baking. The kids had plenty of goodies, they didn't need more, and she didn't have to be busy all the time. She had taken a long bath and enjoyed that. Now she was relaxing, thinking about the kids getting older, thinking about taking care of a grandchild. Inevitably she was thinking about Grady, wondering what his role would be in the memories waiting to form.