Liz felt her heart beating in her throat as she looked at him in stunned surprise. He couldn't have given her a better gift if he had presented her with a diamond necklace.
She touched his lips, a smile playing on her own. "To be continued," she whispered. "After the tree- trimming party."
He was beginning to like some of her plans.
It took them a full hour to finally get up to the front of the line.
"This better be worth it," Griff muttered as they took their place at the head of the ramp.
A white-haired woman dressed in a ruffled red- checkered apron that touched the floor stood before them. Mrs. Claus. She watched the child in front of them squirm on Santa's lap and cry as an attendant set up the photograph.
"Dickens must have had you in mind when he wrote A Christmas Carol," Liz told Griff.
The child ahead of them was finished. "Just the one?" asked Mrs. Claus.
"Yes." Liz took Casie out of her stroller and smoothed down her wispy hair. She turned to look at Griff. "No."
"No?" Griff looked around. Now what was she talking about?
He found out when Liz grabbed his hand and pulled him up the ramp to Santa's domain with her.
"We'd like to be in on it, too, please," she told the person wearing green tights, green livery and an elf's hat. The man, positioned behind the camera, straightened and looked over to Mrs. Claus for instructions. The short, squat woman raised her shoulders up and down.
"It's rather unusual." Her tiny rosebud mouth pointed down.
Santa came to Liz's rescue. Somehow, Griff thought, he might have known it would go this way. "Oh, it's Christmas," Santa said with a hearty laugh, gesturing them forward.
"Yes," Liz said, looking over at Griff, "it is." Griff scowled at her but she was sure he did it just for effect. Placing Casie on Santa's lap, Liz leaned back against one of the chair's arms and motioned for Griff to do the same on the other. Grudgingly, he did.
"Sorry my lap isn't big enough for all of you." Santa chuckled.
"'That's okay. Just don't forget to leave something special under the tree. Once we get it." Liz leaned over and looked meaningfully at Griff.
She had storm trooped into his life and he only had himself to blame.
And thank.
The feeling dissipated somewhat as he followed Liz from tree to tree in a lot just off the main thoroughfare in Bedford.
"Liz, any tree'll do!" he insisted. Casie began to protest loudly and he shifted her to his other shoulder. "How about this one?"
She looked at the one he pointed to and then gave him a dubious look. "Too scrawny."
"Liz, I'm only keeping it for a few days. I'm not planning on marrying it."
She ignored him and continued looking.
The weary-looking owner of the lot rubbed his hands together. The weather was turning unseasonably cold. "Lady, this is almost Christmas Eve. The perfect ones are gone." Getting nowhere with Liz, he turned to Griff. "Is your wife always this picky?" he asked Griff.
"No, usually she's worse," Griff answered. He opened his mouth to correct the lot owner's mistaken impression of their relationship, but never got the chance.
"How about this one?" the man asked, leading Liz to the other end of the lot.
Liz circled it slowly, studying it from all angles. This one was more to her liking. Not without reservations, but it would do.
"Hallelujah," the owner mumbled into his triple chins. He and Griff quickly did the monetary exchange and strapped the tree onto the roof of Griff's car before Liz could change her mind.
"Pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?" Griff asked Liz as they drove back home.
She turned to look at him. The harsh lines she had come to know had softened around his mouth and eyes. She was getting to him and she knew it. "Yeah, I am."
He read the knowing look on her face. "Just for that, I should make you walk home."
"The one who liked cops. Did I tell you that that trait is genetically transferred?"
They stopped for a light. He ran his hand along her cheek, pushing aside a strand of blond hair. "That's possibly the only thing you didn't tell me. Did the other members of your family ever get to say anything while you lived at home?"
"Sure. Usually 'Yes, Liz.'"
He laughed. It filled the car and her heart. It was going to be one hell of a Christmas, she promised herself.
Happiness.
Was that what this alien sensation was? He wasn't altogether certain. Happiness was something that had continually eluded him all the years he was growing up and all the years of his manhood. But if he had to put a name to the feeling that bubbled and surged through him now, that would be his guess. Happiness. Nothing else could feel quite this way, make him quite this...hopeful. What was happening in his life at this time was good, it was right. With this feeling rushing through his veins, he felt confident enough to take a chance, just this one more time, and let himself go all the way. The rewards could be so great. He had always been afraid of failing. The pain of failure was always there, waiting to seize him. The threat of it had always outweighed everything else. But Liz had changed all that, had changed him. She had made him want to try again.
Casie babbled at him from her car seat, playing with a chewable, squeaky toy Liz had given her before he dropped her off. He felt more relaxed and at peace than he ever had before.
"So what do you think, Casie?" He tilled the rear- view mirror to catch a glimpse of the baby. "You think we might make a real family, the three of us?"
"Mfghp."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Sally wasn't coming back. He had combed the county for her on his own and pulled in a few favors he had coming to him from other officers in the region. It had all been strictly off the record. They all had the same thing to report. Sally was nowhere to be found. And, Griff was beginning to realize, she might not be for years to come. He had Casie to think of. And his own life.
They could be a family. It would work. He'd make it work.
"Maybe Liz has something. Maybe sometimes dreams can come true."
"Ayhfee."
"Right again, kid."
He turned the car onto his cul-de-sac. Everything within him froze.
It was like experiencing déjà vu. Sally was standing on his doorstep.
And she wasn't alone. But this time, it wasn't a baby she had brought with her.
Griff pulled in a deep breath, trying to fortify himself. Next to Sally stood a tall, gangly man with long dark hair that swept the top of his shoulders. His hands were defiantly shoved into the pockets of his plaid wool jacket.
At least his hair looked clean this time, Griff noted bitterly.
Griff felt a sudden surge of anger that shattered the delicate, spun-glass world he had been building just a moment before. Sally had brought Buddy with her. Casie's father.
Her biological father, Griff reminded himself. Anyone could sire a child. It took almost no trouble at all. That didn't give the man any rights.
Griff slowly pulled his car into the driveway and parked it next to a maroon van that had a large dent on the right side. His, no doubt.
"Griff!" Sally came running up to his car before he had a chance to get out.
Buddy remained standing on the front step, warily watching the scene unfold. Griff hardly spared him more than a glance.
"There she is! There's my baby!" Sally hastily, undid Casie's straps. "Oh, Casie, I've missed you so!" Casie whimpered uncertainly.
"She hardly knows you," Griff said, getting out. "They tend to forget quickly at her age." He took Casie from her. "At yours, too."
Sally's expression faded to one of confusion. She pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Griff, I had to get some things cleared up. You know that."
"What I know is that you left her behind like so much excess baggage," he accused. He saw Sally's eyes widen in disbelief. He had always been there to pick up the pieces for her, to cover for her when she needed it. This was something new.
"Griff, that's not fair," Sally cried. But she made no move to take Casie back.
He struggled with his anger. And with feeling threatened. "What isn't fair is to come waltzing in and out of people's lives like some carefree child without any responsibilities."
Tears gathered in Sally's eyes. Griff looked away. The sight of her pain hurt him. But if he gave in, he'd lose Casie, lose something precious, something he had just found for himself. He had to stand firm, even if it was against Sally.
Even if it was wrong.
"I know, Griff, I know." Sally touched his arm. He stiffened.
"If you know that, what are you doing here?"
In answer Sally turned behind her and held out her hand to Buddy.
"What? Him? What's he got "to do with it?"
Buddy crossed over to Sally. He took her hand and for the first time, looked directly at Griff. Only the slight movement at the corner of his mouth showed his nervousness. "We're married now, Griff," Buddy said. He held up their joined hands. There was a wedding ring on both.
The news stunned Griff, but it didn't alter anything. Buddy had walked out once. What was there to change that now? "Married, huh? For how long?"
"Forever," Sally answered defiantly.
"Terrific." His angry gaze swept over both of them, measuring them. They cáme up wanting. "Two people who turn tail and run whenever the going gets rough. Where does that leave Casie?" he demanded.
Oblivious to the emotional turmoil around her, Casie settled down and began to play with the buttons on Griff's jacket.
"With her parents. With two people who love her," Sally insisted.
The look in her eyes told Griff that she was afraid, really afraid of him, of what he might do. He felt a stab of pain that things should come to this between them. She had never been afraid of him. But he had never had Casie to think of before.
"She has that now. I can give her what she needs. A home, love."
Buddy stepped forward, an obvious angry retort on his lips. Sally put her hand out to stop him. "Griff, please," she implored her brother. "Listen to me."
He wanted to go. To shut the door in their faces, to turn his back on this threat to the little bit of happiness he had finally uncovered for himself.
But she was his sister, and he loved her. He couldn't win his own happiness at the cost of hers. And Casie was hers.
He turned up the collar on Casie's jacket. The wind had picked up again. There was the taste of winter in the air. "Let's go into the house before she comes down with something."
Sally reached for Casie. Griff pretended he didn't notice. He kept the baby close to him as he unlocked the front door. The Christmas tree on the roof of his car was forgotten. Everything was forgotten except for the drama that was being played out in front of him.
Walking in, he turned on the light. Nothing could bring back the light to his soul. He held Casie tighter. An ache began to grow. A deep, foreboding dread. Casie complained and he loosened his hold.
"Well?"
Sally and Buddy stood before him, their hands joined. He felt like some sort of a horrid ogre, threatening two frightened young people. But, damn it, they were threatening him. They couldn't just deposit a human being on him, let him learn to love her, and then whisk her away again. It wasn't fair, damn it!
When had life ever been fair?
A deep, dark bleakness seized him in a viselike grip. At that moment, he knew he had lost.
"I'm listening," he said to Sally quietly.
"We're married," Sally said nervously.
"You already said that."
"And Buddy has a job."
"Where?" He turned to look at Buddy, not bothering to mask his contempt. Buddy had never been able to hold on to a job for more than a couple of days. All he had ever cared about was playing his guitar and riding his motorcycle. "In a band?"
"No," Sally cried. "In a bank."
Griff saw the pride on her face as she looked at the man beside her. "Working, or making withdrawals?" Griff's implication was clear.
"Working," Buddy retorted. "And I'm going to school at night. I've got my head together."
"About time," Griff said dryly.
His hold was slipping. He knew that he could fight them for Casie's custody. And there were chances that he might even win. But what would he win? Sally's tears? Her hatred? A little girl who would ask questions about her mother when she grew older? Who might hate him too for perpetuating this schism? It was too selfish a move, no matter how much he wanted it.
"Where do you plan on living? "
"We've got an apartment in Tustin. It's not too far from here. You can come by and see her any time you want," Sally said eagerly. She began to ease Casie back into her arms.
She always knew when she was winning, Griff thought. He let Casie go. "Count on it."
"Oh, Griff, thank you." Sally threw one arm around him as she held Casie with the other. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
"Yeah, me neither," he muttered.
Sally drew back and turned toward Buddy. Griff watched the expression on Buddy's face as he took his daughter's small hand in his. There was affection there. Maybe it would work. If not, he'd be there to take her back. "What's the name of the bank?" he asked Buddy.
Buddy looked up from his daughter. "First National Trust on Newport and Third."
"I'll be by to check it out," Griff promised. There was no mistaking the message.
"Do that. Open an account. We could always use the business." The lopsided grin on the thin face was uncertain, but hopeful.
There was no use in biting off his brother-in-law's head. It wouldn't help erase the pain that was chewing up his gut. The awful, gnawing pain that began to consume him even as he stood there. He wanted them gone. He wanted to be alone, as he always had been. "It's past her bedtime. You'd better get her home."
Sally nodded. She stood on her toes and gave Griff a quick kiss on the cheek.
He scarcely felt it. He scarcely felt anything. It should have remained that way from the beginning, he told himself. He should never have been so stupid as to let Liz stir up his feelings and make him care. It was all her fault. And his.
"She's got a bunch of things here." He gestured around the room vaguely.
"We can come by and pick them up after the holidays." Sally was fairly beaming. "We've got all she'll need in the car."
"In the car?" Griff repeated, puzzled.
"We're spending Christmas with Buddy's folks in Santa Barbara. They're excited about seeing the baby." Her voice lowered. "Thank you, Griff. Thank you so much for everything."
Buddy offered him his hand and there was nothing Griff could do but shake it. At least Sally was happy, he thought. "Take care of them both, or you'll answer to me."
"I already know that," Buddy said with a nervous laugh.
And then they were gone.
And so was everything else.
Griff turned out the light and sat down in the living room. He hadn't even bothered taking off his jacket. It had all happened so fast. As he leaned back against the sofa, something stiff rose up in his pocket. He tugged it out impatiently without thinking.
It was a copy of the photograph they had had taken this afternoon. Griff stared at it for a moment. It seemed to have all happened in another lifetime now. He crumpled it and let it fall to the floor.
There were no lights coming from Griff's house as Liz drove up. Fear erupted and began to grow. What was wrong? He had to be home, his car was in the driveway. The tree was still strapped to the roof.
Casie!
Something had happened to Casie. Liz brought the car to a screeching halt and jumped out. The car began to roll backward. Swearing under her breath, Liz quickly hopped in and pulled up the hand brake. The car jarred to a halt. Leaving the car door hanging wide open, she ran up to Griff's front door and rang the bell. When there was no answer, she began pounding on the door.
"Griff, it's me, Liz! Griff, are you in there? Open up!"
She continued pounding. The side of her closed fist was beginning to ache when the door was suddenly pulled open.
She gasped when she saw him. He didn't look like the same man she had been with only half an hour ago. He looked dark, foreboding. It was Casie. Something awful had happened, she could feel it.
"Where's Casie?" She began to dash toward the back of the house.
"She's gone."
The words were cold, still. With a feeling of absolute dread, Liz swung around to face him. "What do you mean, gone?"
"Sally came back."
She couldn't believe it. "And she took the baby? Just like that?"
"Looks that way."
The bitterness in his voice was so strong it was almost visible. She knew how much he had come to care for Casie, how much he loved her. That he did was a hard-won breakthrough, one that affected them both. Liz ached for him, but didn't know what to say.
Instinctively, she reached out and put her arms around him. Griff tried to brush her aside. Liz wouldn't let him. "You're not going to push me away, Griff!" She kept her own hurt out of her voice. Why couldn't he let her in? Why? "I licked a bully when I was eleven and I know how to hang on. You're not retreating from me again—"
"Liz, there's no use—"
"There's every use," she insisted. She struggled to maintain her composure and keep her tears back. He wasn't going to shut her out again, he wasn't. "Where did Sally take Casie?"
Pushing her arms aside, he moved away from her and stood by the window, staring out blankly. "They're going to visit his parents in Santa Barbara."
She watched the set of his shoulders, the way he moved. She was losing him. "They?"
"He married her. That would-be rock star who ran out on her." He spat the words out. "He changed his mind and came back. He's working at a bank now."
Liz pressed her lips together, searching for words. "Well, that sounds hopeful."
He turned to look at her. She could almost touch the anger in his eyes. "Yeah, just dandy."
Please don't do this, she thought. "Are they going to live in Santa Barbara?"