Minor Adjustments (3 page)

“May I help you?”

The voice sounded loud through the hotel telephone, and Devon winced. Even after a decent night’s sleep, his head still throbbed. “Yeah, I’m wondering if I can switch rooms. Do you have any suites available with two bedrooms?”

“I’m afraid not. We have a room with two queens or we have a master king suite, which has a king sized bed in an en-suite bedroom. Would you like to upgrade to that?”

Devon weighed his options. Deciding it was better to have a separate bedroom for Ryan, he asked, “Does the couch have a fold-out bed?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Is it comfortable?”

“Uh . . .”

“Never mind.” At least he wouldn’t have to shut himself in the bathroom to make any nighttime phone calls. “I’ll take it. When can you have it ready?”

“Probably an hour or two. I can ring your room as soon as it is.”

“Thank you.”

Propped up by several pillows, Ryan sat on the bed and stared at a cartoon on the TV screen. “Feel like some breakfast?” Devon asked.

Ryan’s eyes sparkled and his head bobbed. “My stomach is making noises. That means I’m starving. Can we have custard?” Evidently he had a one-track mind when it came to his favorite dessert.

“How about we get dressed and go down and see?”

“Okay.”

Custard wasn’t on the hotel’s breakfast menu, but after a quiet word in the waiter’s ear, the congenial man brought out a bowl of fruit with a side of the thick pudding.

“I love custard!” Ryan said when he saw his breakfast. “Ta!”

The waiter grinned and patted Ryan’s head. “Anytime, little bloke. Anytime.”

An older woman with short, graying hair sat at a nearby table and waved an arm at the waiter. “May I have some too? It looks delicious, and my husband isn’t here to tell me I shouldn’t.”

“Of course. I’ll bring it right out.”

“Thank you.”

The waiter left and Devon asked the woman, “Are you from America?”

She nodded. “Texas. My husband is here for business and I came along just for fun. Unfortunately, he’s going to be busier than he thought, so I’ll be on my own much of the time.” She gestured toward Ryan, who was devouring his custard. “Is he your son?”

“No. I’m just watching him for a few weeks. Speaking of which, have you been here long enough to know of any kid-friendly places to visit?” Devon would gladly take any suggestions.

She shook her head. “Sorry. We got here two days ago and I haven’t ventured out much on my own because it makes me nervous. You might try the concierge though.”

“Good idea.” The few times Devon had traveled during the past decade had been for business—and business only. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked a concierge for more than a decent place to eat. “If we figure out something to do, you’re welcome to come with us.”

She smiled. “I’d love to, if you’re sure you don’t mind. I hate sightseeing alone.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome, so long as you don’t mind a tag-along.”

“Heavens, no. I had four of my own and now have three grandchildren.”

Devon gestured to an empty seat next to Ryan. “Want to join us? I’m Devon and this is Ryan, by the way.”

She slid in next to Ryan. “I’m Colleen. It’s wonderful to meet you both.”

By the time they’d finished their meal, Colleen felt like an old friend. Her ready smile and quiet sense of humor entertained Devon and put Ryan at ease. They exchanged cell numbers and agreed to meet up later.

The suite was ready for them, so Devon picked up their bags, grabbed Ryan’s hand, and rode the elevator up two floors. The new room was equipped with a separate master bedroom and a decent-sized living area. Even the couch looked more comfortable and slightly larger than the previous one.

Dropping the bags to the floor, Devon flipped on a cartoon for Ryan before calling the concierge. He spoke to a woman and jotted down some of her more interesting suggestions.

“Hey, Ryan, would you rather go up in a tall tower or walk across a really big bridge?”

No answer. The couch was empty, and the door was wide open.

“Ryan?” Devon rushed to the hallway. No sign of Ryan anywhere. Only a few hours into the two weeks and already Devon had lost the child. “Ryan!”

Ryan’s chattering voice floated into the hallway from an adjacent room, and Devon let out a breath.
Thank goodness.
He jogged over to the cracked door and knocked.

“I’m so sorry,” Devon said as he poked his head through the door. “Oh, it’s you again.”

Colleen’s smiling eyes met his. “It’s a small world, I guess. Turns out we’re neighbors.”

“I’m just happy to know Ryan didn’t barge into a stranger’s room.” Devon shot Ryan a meaningful look. “You need to tell me before you leave our room, okay?”

“But someone knocked on our door and left towels on the floor, and they weren’t ours!” Ryan said.

Huh?

Colleen pointed to a stack of towels on a small table. “I think a maid must have brought you some extra towels. When Ryan answered the door and saw me going into my room, he thought they were mine and brought them to me. Such a darling and thoughtful child.”

“Oh.” Devon reached for Ryan’s hand. “Come on, let’s go. We need to go get ready. Then we’ll come back to pick up Colleen, assuming she still wants to come.”

“Count me in,” she said.

“What do you think about going to see the Sydney Opera House?”

“It sounds wonderful.”

“We’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”

“I’ll be ready.”

An hour later, they boarded a train at a nearby CityRail station and exited a few stops later at Circular Quay. The Sydney Opera House was nothing like Devon had ever seen. Comprised of massive fin-shaped arches, tiered on top of each other, the building looked like the sails on an old tall ship. Incredible.

If only Ryan had been equally impressed. Ten minutes into their guided tour, the boy’s steps lagged and his grip on Devon’s hand turned limp. Swinging Ryan up to his shoulders, Devon continued to follow the guide.

“Can we go to the park?” Ryan pleaded.

“As soon as we’re done here,” Devon said. “Assuming we can find one.”

Colleen chuckled and fished a pack of Life Savers from her bag. “Tell you what, Ryan. If you can point out ten things shaped like a circle, I’ll give you a circle treat.”

Ryan wriggled down from Devon’s shoulders, and Devon wanted to hug Colleen. Bribery. Brilliant. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Devon needed to stock up on candy. Maybe even custard.

When the guide led them into the Utzon room, Devon’s phone vibrated with a text from Stella.

How’s Ryan?

Devon frowned. How often would Stella feel the need to check up on them? Hopefully not every few hours or she’d drive him crazy. He typed a quick reply.

Fine.

A few seconds later his phone buzzed again.

And you?

Fine.

Fine!

Devon smirked and shoved the phone back into his pocket. Serves her right for getting him into this situation. Moments later he got another text.

Next time I won’t let you off the hook so easily.

Devon punched out a response.

What are you going to do? Put me on a courtroom stand and question me?

Not a bad idea.

Devon grinned as Colleen eyed him with curious eyes. “Work?”

“Not exactly.”

“If you need to step outside to make a call, I can handle Ryan for a few minutes.”

“No, it’s fine.” How could Devon even begin to explain? “It’s a long story.”

Glancing from the guide to Ryan and back to Devon, Colleen whispered, “Well, Ryan’s got a mouthful of candy, and this guide is rather boring. I think I’d find your story much more interesting.”

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Devon tapped Ryan on the nose.

Scrunching his face, Ryan slowly opened his eyes before shutting them again.

“Come on, little man. I ordered pancakes with fruit and custard on the side.”

Ryan yawned. “Custard?”

“Yep—your favorite.”

Rubbing his sleepy eyes awake, Ryan sat up, and his gaze rested on the room service table. “You ordered it?” He swung his feet over the side of the bed. “How did you order it?”

“I picked up the phone and asked them to make it and bring it to our room.”

“You mean somebody took it all the way up the elevator?”

“Just for you.” Devon smoothed Ryan’s hair, or at least tried to. The longish curls had a mind of their own in the mornings, jutting out this way and that. “Now, let’s eat before it gets cold. It’s almost nine, and the aquarium opens in an hour.” After two days of sightseeing, Devon decided to see if Google could offer any better ideas than the concierge. Sydney Aquarium had been first on the list.

“What’s a queryam?” Ryan asked, plopping down in front of his breakfast.

“It’s a place with fishes and turtles and sharks. You’ll love it.”

“A shark? A real one that’s alive?”

“Yep.”

“But what if he tries to bite me?”

“I’ll punch him,” Devon said, taking the other seat.

Ryan’s giggle sounded like animated popping bubbles, and a dimple appeared to the left of his mouth. “You can’t punch a shark! He’ll eat you up all gone.”

The kid was cute. “Not if I make his nose bleed first. Then he’ll need to find a tissue instead.”

“But the tissue would get all wet!” Ryan laughed so hard he nearly scooted off his seat.

A knock echoed through the hotel room. Colleen had said she’d be spending the day with her husband, so maybe it was the maid service. Devon pushed his chair back and pointed at their breakfast trays. “Hey, you better stop laughing and start eating so we can go.” He walked over to the door and pulled it open.

“G’day.” Stella smiled as she swept past Devon.

“No, please, come on in,” Devon said.

She ignored him and smiled at Ryan. “Sounds like someone’s having a good time.”

“Devon’s going to punch a shark and make his nose all bloody if he tries to eat me!” Ryan said, still giggling.

It didn’t sound quite so funny when Stella gave Devon an arched eyebrow look, as though blood and breakfast didn’t go together. “Uh, he was only joking. We’re planning a trip to the aquarium today.”

“Oh, I love the aquarium. Mind if I tag along?”

Already Stella had managed to douse some fun in the room, and Devon wasn’t sure he wanted her looking over his shoulder the entire day. But how to discourage her from coming? “It’s Thursday,” he finally said. “Don’t you have to work?”

“Not today.”

“You get to come to the queryam with us?” Ryan bounced up and down.

Devon sighed. So much for convincing Stella not to come. “Have you eaten yet, Stella?”

“Yeah.” Her gaze drifted to their breakfast trays. “Custard for breakfast?” The way she looked at him made Devon feel like he was back in the first grade, getting a check mark next to his name.

“Custard makes us big and strong and we should have it every time we eat! Devon says so!” Ryan was all smiles.

“Does he now?” Another check.

Devon shrugged. “What can I say? The stuff is good. And it comes with fruit—which is a breakfast food.” So there.

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your, um . . . breakfast.” Picking up a magazine, Stella dropped to the couch and settled in to wait. Devon could handle a few hours with her, couldn’t he? Besides, Ryan seemed to love her, so she had to have some redeeming qualities.

They finished their breakfast and rushed to get ready. After a fifteen-minute search for Ryan’s missing shoe, Stella finally found it in the drawer of a nightstand. Good thing too, because Devon would never have thought to look there. Who puts a shoe in a nightstand drawer?

Ryan. Or maybe the boogeyman, since Ryan didn’t know how it got there either.

Ten minutes later, they finally stepped into the elevator. When Devon pressed the button for the ground floor, Stella once again arched that eyebrow. “Aren’t we going to the parking garage?”

The question sounded so innocent—too innocent. If Devon hadn’t already returned the rental car two days before, he would have pressed “P” and taken the car purely for pride’s sake. “Ryan loves to ride on the train, so I humor him.”

“Really?” Stella looked down at the boy. “You like trains now, Ryan?”

“Trains are noisy.”

“I know,” Stella said. “They are very noisy.”

“But they don’t get us lost.”

If the boy didn’t look so cute, with his large, guileless eyes, Devon might have throttled him.

“Lost?” Stella asked, still looking at Ryan. “Did the car get you lost?”

Ryan nodded, his eyes growing bigger. “Yeah, but then another car came and got us un-lost.”

“Tattletale,” Devon muttered.

“Another car?”

Devon rolled his eyes. “It was a taxi, okay? Now go ahead and say I told you so.”

But Stella only smiled—a pompous sort of smile—and stepped out into the lobby when the elevator doors opened.

By the time they arrived at the aquarium, Devon wondered how long Stella planned to stick around. It was like he was constantly being watched and found wanting. Maybe he could rush Ryan through the exhibit and bring him back another day—without Nanny McPhee. But that small ray of hope died when Ryan ran to the first display window and pressed his hands and nose to the glass, twisting his head as he tried to follow the movements of the fish.

Devon groaned inwardly. Where was the Sydney Opera House when he needed it?

“What have you guys been up to the past two days?” Stella asked.

A neutral topic. Good. “We visited the Sydney Opera House, walked across the harbor bridge, and yesterday we went to the top of the Sydney Tower. Ryan wasn’t too impressed with any of it, but I was. This city is awesome.”

“You’ve never been here before?”

“Nope. Never had a reason to come.”

Ryan shouted, “Look! It’s a turtle!” His eyes radiated excitement, and Devon found himself wondering if the aquarium would sell him the turtle.

Stella smiled at Ryan before returning her attention to Devon. “Are you two getting along okay?”

“Sure.” Devon shrugged. “He’s been easy, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

How to explain? That Ryan wasn’t annoying? That he said the most interesting things sometimes, making Devon want to laugh out loud? That Ryan was sweet and innocent and fun to hang out with? “I don’t know. I’ve never been around kids much, and at first I had no idea how to act or what to say, but . . . well, he’s been easy.”

“Oh,” Stella said. “When you put it that way, yeah, he is easy.”

Ryan pointed to an animal that looked like a cross between a duck and a seal. “What’s that?”

Resting his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, Devon said, “That, my friend, is called a platypus.”

“Platypus?”

“Yep, and the name fits, don’t you think? I bet he even likes custard.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Really? Just like me and you?”

“You better ask Stella to be sure.”

So Ryan did, as well as everyone else in the room, since his question rang out above the other murmuring voices. “Stella, do platypuses like custard?”

Stella’s laugh sounded nice. Genuine. Happy. “No, silly. Platypuses would rather eat things like yabbies and prawn—other little animals that live in the water.”

“Hey, I like prawns too!” Ryan’s eyes brightened as he continued to study the mammal.

“Me too.” Devon leaned over and whispered to Stella, “Does that make me part platypus?”

“Now that you mention it, you do have some similarities.”

“Hey now.”

She smiled and nodded toward the animal. “Did you know that when the first platypus specimen was sent to England, the British scientists thought it was a hoax?”

“How could they with the animal sitting right in front of them?”

“No idea. But it is rather odd-looking, isn’t it?”

“I hope you’re not still comparing us.”

Stella laughed but said nothing more. Devon wondered if she’d added “strange” and “odd-looking” to his growing list of character traits.

As they toured the rest of the exhibits, Stella raised her eyebrows less and laughed more. It was as though her role of judgmental observer had been tossed aside and replaced with that of a casual acquaintance. Although Devon was grateful for the change, he knew it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with Ryan. The kid had a natural ability to draw people out and make them feel . . . Loved? Happy? Special? Devon still wasn’t sure what made Ryan so likeable, but whatever it was, Stella obviously felt it too.

By the time they finally shooed Ryan from the underwater shark exhibit, Devon was ready to buy the boy an annual pass. Not that he actually would. Devon would be leaving in just over a week, and who knew if the people Ryan ended up with would ever bring him back. Their loss if they didn’t.

They followed Stella to a nearby eatery for lunch. As Devon munched on the tasty fish and chips, he had a brilliant idea. “Hey Ryan, do you want to go to a pet store and pick out your very own fish?”

The dimple instantly appeared, and Ryan’s eyes crinkled. “You mean one I can keep forever and ever?”

“And ever. Assuming you take good care of it and feed it every day.”

“Can I have a shark too?”

“Do you think a shark would fit into our hotel room?”

Ryan grinned and shook his head.

“Maybe we can go back to the aquarium another day so you can see the sharks again.”

“I know of a pet store in Surry Hills. It’s only a short train ride from here,” Stella said.

“Are you offering to come?” Now that the tension between them had ebbed, it would be nice having someone along who knew the area.

“Sure. I’d love to see what fish catches Ryan’s fancy. And besides, I’d hate for you to have to call another taxi to get you un-lost.”

Devon wanted to stick his tongue out but refrained. Obviously he’d been spending too much time with a four-year-old. “Just so you know, I almost got us to the hotel. We followed the taxi driver for maybe five minutes.”

“And now you use public transportation.”

“Let’s just say that CityRail has grown on me.”

Stella smiled. “It has that effect on people.”

At the pet store, Ryan didn’t take long to select his fish. It had been an easy choice, really. When the salesclerk held up a mirror to the blue Betta, and its gills puffed and fins flared, Ryan was entranced. The fact that it was also called a fighting fish finalized the decision.

Stella’s cell phone rang, and she excused herself to take the call outside while Devon waited at the checkout counter as the clerk rang up their supplies. Meanwhile, Ryan wandered off, no doubt entertaining himself by looking at all the other tanks.

When Stella came back inside, she asked, “Where’s Ryan?”

“He’s still looking at the fish. I’m thinking he’s destined to become a marine biologist.”

Stella waited for Devon to finish signing the receipt, and together they headed toward the back of the store. They found Ryan standing on a short stool in front of an aquarium filled with goldfish, holding a bottle of fish food in his hand. An empty bottle of fish food.

“I feed the fish,” Ryan said, all smiles. “See? They’re hungry.”

Sure enough, approximately forty fish were feeding off the entire contents of the emptied food container. Devon closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. He knew enough about goldfish to know they weren’t supposed to eat that much. Fabulous.

When the sales clerk approached, Devon gestured to the tank. “I guess we’ll be taking home those goldfish as well.”

Stella’s eyes widened. “Uh, maybe—”

“Yay! We get goldfish, too!” Ryan clapped his hands.

“Never mind,” said Stella, lips twitching.

“Never mind what?” Devon asked while the clerk worked quickly to remove the food from the aquarium.

In a quiet voice, she said, “I was going to say that if you’re worried the fish ate too much, it would be easier to pay for them, rather than take them home. But best of luck telling Ryan that now.”

Devon blamed his idiocy on stress and lack of sleep.

“And you do know that goldfish don’t play well with male Bettas, don’t you?” Stella added.

Although it wasn’t her fault, Devon still glared at her. “No, I didn’t. I’d rather eat fish, not play with them. What’s that supposed to mean, anyway?”

“It means you’ll need a separate fish bowl for the goldfish, or the ones that survive, at least. And speaking of survivors, what do you plan to do if Ryan wakes up tomorrow and finds some of his fish floating on top?”

“I’ll tell him we’re eating them for breakfast.”

“Yeah, that won’t traumatize him.”

Armed with a Betta, thirty-two engorged goldfish, food, two fishbowls, and Ryan’s handpicked decor, Devon herded Ryan from the shop, more than ready to return to the hotel. What a day. He’d never been so grateful to board a train and sit on a hard plastic seat.

Three o’clock. Really? That was it? Maybe Ryan would take a nap when they got back. And maybe Devon would join him.

But Ryan didn’t look tired at all. Instead, he poked at his new pets through their bags, giggling when he got the Betta to puff his fins. What would happen to the fish after Devon left? What would happen to Ryan? Would Stella find some nice adoptive parents who would let Ryan keep the fish? Would Ryan like his new parents?

The unwelcome worry attached itself to Devon’s mind and burrowed in, making Devon shift in his seat. He didn’t want to care about Ryan’s future. He didn’t want to care about Ryan. And yet the child’s innocence reached out to him, begging for rescue.