It seemed long ago now, sitting in the backyard with Deirdre, crying, miserable. The abruptness of the event had thrown her, all familiarity with her surroundings gone. But after the stroke of good luck in finding the apartment quickly, she had settled down, and the catastrophe felt distinctly noncatastrophic. Of course, there was still the matter of the cost of the repairs, a figure not yet reached as the work continued. Her insurance agent had backtracked from the initial firm commitment that everything would be covered, but Piper was determined not to spend her summer worrying about it.
Manny was supervising the repairs, and he would be a bulldog about holding the insurance company to their word. Deirdre had said to give him full rein on this and Piper had listened to her. His pugnaciousness, which hadn’t been an ideal attribute during their wedded state, was perfect for this situation. Piper was going to listen to Deirdre.
She found that there were advantages to living away from home. There was a feeling of truly having a holiday, not simply a lack of school and obligations.
The white, fluffy cloud she was floating on, however, disappeared when she thought about Kathleen. They had spoken often on the phone and Piper had driven to Oakville three times to treat her to dinner. She’d wanted to check Kathleen out with her own eyes. No sign of pregnancy, but her daughter did look extraordinarily healthy and said she had been to see a family physician. Piper had brought with her an expensive prenatal multivitamin and mineral supplement and Kathleen agreed to take it.
“Thanks, Mom, you didn’t have to do that. I’m taking care of myself, and it’s still early days,” Kathleen had said, tossing the hefty bottle from one hand to the other, as they sat in the corner of a busy vegetarian café.
“Oh, darling, I want to do everything that I can. You know that. I wish the house
were
livable, then you could come home, at least for the summer.”
Kathleen had remained silent at that.
Piper had been careful to keep her tone upbeat and tried not to stray into areas that had recently become verboten. But surely the mother of an only daughter had some rights, Piper had thought, justifying another attempt that day to pierce the secrecy surrounding the identity of the baby’s father. She ran over the conversation in her mind. Was he a student? Did she love him? When could Piper meet him? Did she truly want to have the baby? Kathleen had been uncharacteristically vague as she stammered and asked for time to sort everything out. Except for the last question—which she had answered by nodding and smiling radiantly—Piper knew little more than she had when Kathleen had exploded her news.
Deirdre had counseled Piper to give Kathleen some room. She also offered to call Kathleen and have a chat if Piper couldn’t tolerate Kathleen’s “schedule of revelations.” Piper decided she could wait.
In the warmth of the day, the heavy book on the history of farm production in western Canada tipped forward and lay open on her belly. Her enthusiasm for improving her knowledge of Canadian agrarian history over the summer was alive but sleepy. Wheat, soybeans, barley, canola… She thought about the federal government scrapping the Canadian Wheat Board. She opened her eyes briefly, clenched her fist and wrinkled her forehead as she mentally railed against megagrowers wiping out small farmers. A July copy of
People
magazine was lying on the grass beside her, waiting for her interest in grains to yield to Hollywood gossip. Instead of reaching for a little lighter reading, her mind drew her from the unfair farm economy, back to her fondness for grains, and then to her fondness for the wild grasses in this backyard. Rob Mossman’s backyard. Wild Rob Mossman, half-naked on the front of
People
—she smiled at her crazy daydream visions.
Rob had one of those perfect, classic noses. Straight, no boxing matches in his past. A skin tone and texture that seemed almost too smooth for a man. And eyes that seemed too blue for an adult. His dark golden hair had a reddish tinge, which she found becoming. He needed a haircut, though, she thought. It was a bit too long, especially on the top, which had some wave to it. A good cut would make him even more handsome. Any objective bystander would judge him to be extremely appealing physically. To be that attractive and so likable. He had a gentle manner coupled with nicely developed confidence. He must be really good at something. She grinned and reveled in the thought that he was probably very good at touching. How much did she care about finding a lover?
Deirdre had offered up her suggestion so easily, as if you could order a perfect companion lover like hot pastrami on rye. That was simply not the case.
On the surface, Rob might appear to be someone’s perfect companion lover, but that was undoubtedly because he had yet to display the flaws, the big flaws. And she would never discover those flaws because those who ignored history were doomed to repeat it. Even pleasing physical appearances and personalities couldn’t disguise the fact that men and women were unpredictable and relationships between the two were difficult, and complicated.
Still Rob continued to occupy her drowsy thoughts. She hadn’t seen much of him over the past week. And she certainly hadn’t experienced anything like the pleasant sensation that had flowed through her as she lay in his driveway with his hand under her head. She’d been in an altered state, there was no doubt about that. Upset, weak. And Rob had been very accommodating. Even his voice had soothed. Then, on moving day, he had taken the side door off its hinges so her bed could squeeze through the doorway and down the stairs. He had barely blinked an eye when he saw her open the car door and take out Plumpy in his cat carrier, though he had behaved a little oddly, walking around the car and peering in. What had he been looking for?
And at the end of that tiring day, he had invited her to join him and his daughter, Jennie, out on the deck for nachos. They had chatted about school, Piper’s structural renovations, his daughter’s current favorite movies. Jennie was adorable and Piper had taken to her immediately. The little girl had begged to meet Plumpy and Piper had led her by the hand down the stairs to Plumpy’s open cat carrier. He’d let Jennie pet him and Jennie had fallen in love. Jennie had also been interested in Piper and her situation, particularly her house, what had happened to it and where it was. She’d begged Piper to draw a map showing both their houses. Drawing was not one of Piper’s fortes and the result was clumsy and not to scale, but Jennie was fascinated by it, running her index finger along the wobbly streets that linked the two houses. She treated it like a maze, using different routes to skip from one house to the other. She certainly knew her immediate neighborhood, Piper thought, as the little girl chimed the adjacent street names. Piper found Jennie to be playful, not spoiled, and was impressed that she had gone willingly into the house with Rob when he said it was bedtime.
Since then, Piper had spent a weekend at a friend’s cottage on Lake Huron and visited small art galleries on day trips to two smaller towns near Toronto. She exchanged pleasantries with Rob and Jennie when she saw them, but they were usually up and out early in the morning, Jennie bound for day care, Rob to his nearby office. Occasionally she noticed a lack of noise upstairs and wondered if they were away. Jennie sometimes had a friend over in the afternoon when her babysitter brought her home from the day care, and on more than one occasion the little girl had knocked timidly on Piper’s door and asked if she could see Plumpy, just for a minute. True to her word, Jennie was satisfied to slowly approach Plumpy, pet him lightly and then run out. She always thanked Piper.
Rob was more solitary and Piper had not seen any visitors. There had been no more invitations to join them on the deck overlooking the backyard.
Piper wondered about their lives. Was there a mother of Jennie somewhere, a wife of Rob? Nothing had been mentioned, no references to someone missing. She and Rob were not well enough acquainted for her to ask casually. Maybe there had been a messy divorce, and the subject of mommy was banned from conversation. Well, it was none of her business. She shifted her position on the lounger, irritated by the fact that all thoughts took the turn leading to Rob. She was not interested in the domestic affairs of Rob Mossman, any more than she was interested in the man himself. He was very nice and very good-looking and seemed kind, radiated appealing warmth; if he wasn’t tethered to someone at this point it was certainly in his future. For Piper, he was her landlord—and temporary, at that—nothing more.
She was protesting too much, she thought. The best way to short-circuit these unwanted speculations was to resume reading, but she was unable to coax her eyes to remain open. She drifted off into what her fuzzy brain was calling the best nap she had ever experienced in the hour leading up to noon. In her vivid dream, Rob appeared. They were obviously on some mission, charging down a busy sidewalk, and he was pulling her along faster than she felt comfortable going. Both of them were laughing at something that wasn’t clear to her. Then he stopped abruptly, forcing pedestrians to flow around their small island. He put one hand on her back, the other behind her head, and gently kissed her. The kiss deepened and lengthened and then she was lying on the cushy sidewalk with him. There was a sense of normalcy about the situation, and the way he cradled her head and said her name…
“Piper…Piper.” From a distance, she heard the deep voice repeating her name. Her eyes flew open.
“Piper, I’m really sorry to disturb you like this,” Rob said.
“No, that’s fine. As you can see, I’m…ah…not awfully busy,” she said, giving her head a shake to try to clear away the remnants of the dream. Piper had a bizarre urge to prolong the dream, to pull Rob down on the lounge with her. But the tone of his voice was verging on urgent, a wake-up call with an edge.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said again. “And I feel I don’t really know you well enough to be asking you for a favor, but, uh, something’s come up.”
She stared into deep blue eyes, marveling at their shade. Again, she thought, wasn’t it only babies who had that particular color of eyes, and they usually lost it after a short while. He must have been a beautiful ba—
“Uh, Piper, are you still with me?”
“Oh! Yes, of course, I am…just a little discombobulated, you know how naps are…take time to recover from and—wait! Is everything all right? Jennie? You?”
“Yes, no, I mean, there’s no emergency, just a small problem—and a huge favor to ask of you. Jennie’s day care called. Her tummy’s upset, Mrs. Small said, and she’s out of sorts, not herself. Mrs. Small thinks it’s a flu that’s going around and asked if I could come to pick her up. I have a meeting this afternoon, in about half an hour.” Rob rubbed his face, evidently stressed. “It’s been set up for months and I’m afraid to cancel it because the rescheduling would be a nightmare. I’ve tried to get hold of her regular babysit—”
“Rob, I’m happy to go get her, poor little thing. Give me a moment to put on some shoes and grab my bag. Can you jot down the directions and just give them a quick call to let them know that I’ll be the one picking up Jennie?”
Piper snapped into the world of responsibility quickly and hustled to get ready. She felt for the little girl. Though Piper hadn’t spent much time with her, Jennie had indicated she loved her day care, particularly Mrs. Small, and so she must certainly be feeling unwell to want to leave in the middle of the day. Piper sympathized with Rob’s situation, as well. Single parenting was not for the faint of heart.
For most of Kathleen’s life, it had just been the two of them—Piper and Kathleen. The tug-o’-war between parenting and her teaching career had stretched her thin many times. Thank God for her dear friends, her backup, and on occasion her mother and brothers. It was fitting that she was being asked for the very favor that had been extended to her so many times. An unexpected teariness gripped her—regret, fear that she had somehow shortchanged her own daughter by divorcing, not providing a united family of mother and father and child. A remnant of the disturbing emotions that had been her constant companion just a month ago. She snapped her bag closed and marched out of the apartment.
Jennie was sitting quietly reading a book in the office when Piper arrived at the day care. The little girl looked up wearing an expression of both need and relief. With a nod, Piper acknowledged the woman behind the desk and then crouched down in front of Jennie. She looked into the wide blue eyes so similar to those she had stared into such a short time before and took Jennie’s hands in hers.
“How are you doing, sweetie?”
“Okay, I guess,” Jennie whispered.
“Well, that’s a good start, you might be on the way to feeling better. Tell me about your tummy.”
“It’s kind of funny…it’s going uhhh…and it’s wiggling.” Jennie disengaged one hand and made a swooping motion with her arm.
“Hmm, I see, and how do you feel when you walk?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think I better walk very far. My feet look funny to me.”
“Oh dear, just a minute then, and we’ll get you home. Wait here.” She stood up and approached the counter.
A bright-eyed brunette made sympathetic sounds and produced forms to sign. Piper dealt with the paperwork in short order, expressed her thanks and returned to Jennie.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you home,” Piper said as she shepherded Jennie toward the car. She and Rob had exchanged cars since his had Jennie’s child seat in it. Seeing the familiar car must have reminded Jennie of her father.
“Will Daddy be there?”
“Daddy will be there a little later. He has to take care of some business right now. Which means that I get to take care of you. I’m going to fluff up a bunch of pillows and put them on the couch. Then I’m going to tuck you in—it’ll be like floating on a bed of feathers, and I know you’ll start to feel better right away.”
“Can I watch a movie when I’m tucked in?”
“Yes, you can watch your favorite movie.”
“And can I hold the controller so I can watch the best parts over again?”