Nobody's Baby but Mine (28 page)

“I don’t want a bagel, and I sure as hell don’t want skimmed milk. I want my Lucky Charms!” He stalked into the pantry and pulled out the remaining three boxes. “I’ll guaran-damn-tee you one of these is going to have marshmallows in it.”

But none of them did. He opened all three boxes, and there wasn’t a single marshmallow in any of them.

By now the Professor had finished her bagel, and her green eyes were as cool as the missing marshmallow shamrocks. “Perhaps I could make you some oatmeal. Or Wheatena. I believe I have Wheatena.”

He was furious. Wasn’t there anything in life he could count on these days? The Professor had him spinning mental cartwheels; Kevin Tucker had materialized out of nowhere; his mom had moved out on his dad; and now the marshmallows were missing from five boxes of his favorite breakfast cereal. “I don’t want anything!”

She took a sip of milk and regarded him with perfect serenity. “It really isn’t healthy to start the day without a good breakfast.”

“I’ll risk it.”

He wanted to whip her up off that stool, toss her over his shoulder, and carry her up to his bedroom so he could finish what he’d started last night. Instead, he yanked his keys from his pocket and stalked out to the garage.

He wouldn’t just write the president of General Mills, he decided. He was going to sue the whole damned company! Everybody from the board of directors right down to the shipping clerks. By damn, he’d teach General Mills not to ship out inferior cereal. He jerked open the door of his Jeep, and that was when he saw them.

Marshmallows. Hundreds of tiny marshmallows covering the seats. Red balloons, pink hearts, blue moons. They were scattered everywhere. Across the dashboard, on the front seat, and all over the backseat.

A red veil descended over his eyes. He slammed the door shut and charged into the kitchen. He was going to kill her!

She sat at the counter sipping a cup of tea. “Forget something?”

“Yeah, I forgot something all right. I forgot to smack you silly!”

She didn’t look the slightest bit intimidated. Damn it! No matter what he threatened, no matter how loud he yelled, she didn’t even cringe, probably because she knew he wouldn’t touch her. Now he had to satisfy himself by pumping up the volume. “
You
are going to pay for this!”

He grabbed one of the Lucky Charm boxes and turned it over, spilling the cereal everywhere. He yanked open the sealed flap on the bottom, and sure enough, a neat slit in the inner bag had been carefully resealed with Scotch tape.

He gritted his teeth. “Don’t you think this was just a little childish?”

“It certainly was. And immensely satisfying.” She took a sip of tea.

“If you were pissed off about the way I took off last night, why didn’t you just say so?”

“I prefer docudrama.”

“I can’t believe anybody could be so damned immature!”

“I could have been a lot more immature—emptying the marshmallows in your underwear drawer, for example—but I believe revenge should be subtle.”

“Subtle! You ruined five perfectly good boxes of Lucky Charms and spoiled my whole day in the process.”

“What a pity.”

“I ought to . . . I swear I’m . . .” Damned if he wasn’t carrying her upstairs right now and making love to her until she begged his forgiveness.

“Don’t mess with me, Calvin. You’ll only get hurt.”

Seriously. He was seriously going to kill her. He regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Maybe you’d better explain why you got upset enough to do this. It’s not like anything really important happened last night, is it? You yourself said it was—How did you put it? Oh, yeah. You said it was
quite pleasant
. Now to my way of thinking,
pleasant
doesn’t add up to
important
.” He regarded her closely. “But maybe it was more than pleasant for you. Maybe it was more important than you want to let on.”

Was it his imagination or did something flicker in the depths of those melted shamrock eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your lack of courtesy I found offensive. It would merely have been good manners on your part to have stayed around instead of running off like a teenager hurrying to tell his buddies he’d scored.”

“Manners? Is that what five boxes of mutilated Lucky Charms is all about?”

“Yes.”

Just one good shot. He was already late for his meeting, but he couldn’t leave until he got off one good shot. “You’re about the lowest breed of human being there is.”

“What?”

“Right up there with the Boston Strangler and the Son of Sam.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”

“Not hardly.” He shook his head and regarded her with disgust. “I married a damned cereal killer.”

Why did he have to be so thoroughly intriguing? Of all the pitfalls she had imagined in this marriage, growing to care so much about him had not been one of them. As much as he irritated her, she loved the fact that her intelligence didn’t intimidate him, as it did so many others. She felt alive when she was with him: her blood pumping, her brain at full alert, all senses engaged. Until now, she’d only felt that way when she was engrossed in her work.

Everything would have been so much easier if she could dismiss him as an egotistical, self-centered jock, but he was far more complex than that. Beneath that belligerent good ol’ boy exterior lay, not only a keen mind, but a highly developed sense of humor. In light of the marshmallow incident and the fact that he would soon find out about her car, she rather hoped it kicked in soon.

She pulled up in front of Annie’s house and turned off the ignition. The Escort shuddered for several seconds before it finally shut down. As she’d hoped, Lynn’s car was nowhere in sight, so she was still at lunch with Cal, which gave Jane a chance to check on Annie.

She climbed the front steps and let herself in without knocking, just as Annie had ordered her to do the last time she’d been here.
You’re family now, missy, in case you forgot.

“Annie?” She walked farther into the empty living room.

To her dismay, Lynn Bonner poked her head through the kitchen door, then came slowly forward as she saw her daughter-in-law.

Jane noted the pallor of Lynn’s complexion beneath her makeup and the dark smudges under her eyes. Plainly dressed in jeans and an old pink pocket T-shirt, she bore little resemblance to the well-groomed, stylish hostess who had presided so graciously at the dinner table five days earlier. She wanted to express her concern, but realized even that small gesture would do more harm than good. She wasn’t going to add to Lynn’s troubles, and that meant playing the bitch. “I didn’t know you were here. I thought you were having lunch with Cal.”

“His morning meeting ran long, and he had to cancel.” Lynn set the dish towel she’d been holding over the back of the wing chair. “Did you stop by for any particular reason?”

“I came to see Annie.”

“She’s napping.”

“Tell her I was here, then.”

“What did you want to see her about?”

Jane began to say she’d been concerned about Annie, but stopped herself just in time. “Cal told me I had to drive up today to check on her.” Did lies count with God when they were uttered with good intentions?

“I see.” Lynn’s blue eyes grew frosty. “Well, I’m glad duty forced you to stop by because I want to talk to you. Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?”

The last thing she needed was a private chat with Cal’s mother. “I really can’t stay.”

“This won’t take long. Have a seat.”

“Maybe another time. I have a dozen really important things to do.”

“Sit!”

If Jane hadn’t been so anxious to get away, she would have been amused. Apparently Cal hadn’t received all his leadership abilities from his father, but then, she supposed any woman who had raised three strong-willed sons knew something about exercising her authority. “All right, but just for a few moments.” She took a place at the end of the couch.

Lynn sat in Annie’s upholstered rocker. “I want to talk with you about Cal.”

“I’m not comfortable talking about him behind his back.”

“I’m his mother, and you’re his wife. If that doesn’t give us a right to talk about him, I don’t know what does. After all, we both care about him?”

Jane heard the faint question mark at the end of that statement and understood that Lynn wanted her to confirm her feelings for Cal. Instead, she kept her face carefully expressionless. Cal was right. Lynn and Jim had endured enough grief without having to mourn the failure of his marriage. Let them celebrate, instead, the end of a disastrous alliance. Maybe it would give them something to share.

Lynn’s posture grew more rigid, and Jane’s heart went out to her. She regretted the pain she was causing her now, but knew that, in the end, it was kinder this way. Her in-laws seemed destined for heartbreak, but at least she could make it as short-lived as possible.

“In some ways Cal is like his father,” Lynn said. “They both have a lot of bluster, but they’re more easily hurt than people imagine.” A shadow crossed Lynn’s face.

Maybe a simple concession on her part would somehow ease her mother-in-law’s mind enough to end this conversation. “Cal is a special person. I knew that the moment I met him.”

She immediately realized her mistake because a spark of maternal hope ignited in her mother-in-law’s eyes, and she could see Lynn nurturing the possibility that the frosty, snobbish bride her eldest son had brought home wasn’t as bad as she appeared to be.

Jane’s hands tightened in her lap. She hated causing this woman pain. There was something frail about Lynn, a sadness that lay just beneath that sophisticated veneer. No matter how bad Jane made herself look, she couldn’t hold out false hopes. In the end that would be more cruel than anything else.

She forced her stiff lips into a thin smile. “If anyone ever doubts that he’s special, all they have to do is ask him. He does have an ego.”

Lynn’s chin shot up at the same time her fingers gripped the arm of the chair. “You don’t seem to like him very much.”

“Of course I do, but no one’s perfect.” Jane felt as if she were suffocating. She had never been deliberately cruel in her life, and even though she knew she had to do this, it made her ill.

“I can’t understand why you married him.”

Jane had to get out of here before she fell apart, and she lurched to her feet. “He’s rich, intelligent, and he doesn’t interfere with my work. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“Yes.” She released her hold on the arm of the chair and stood. “Why in the hell did
he
marry
you
?”

Jane knew she had to drive the final nail into the coffin of Lynn’s hopes. “That’s easy. I’m smart, I don’t interfere with his work, and I’m good in bed. Look, Lynn, don’t get yourself in a tangle over this. Neither Cal nor I have a big emotional investment in this marriage. We hope it works out, but if it doesn’t, we’ll both survive. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my computer. Tell Annie if she wants anything to call Cal.”

“I want him to finish paintin’ my house.”

Jane’s head snapped around, and she was dismayed to see Annie standing in the doorway that led to the back bedroom. How long had she been there, and how much had she overheard? Annie was unpredictable. She obviously hadn’t informed Lynn that Jane was pregnant, but what had she said? Beneath the wrinkles and blue eye makeup, the old woman regarded her with what could only be compassion.

“I’ll tell him,” Jane said.

“You do that.” Annie gave a short nod and walked into the kitchen.

Jane hurried to her car, tears stinging her eyes. Damn Cal for making her come to Salvation! Damn him for forcing her into this marriage and believing it would be so easy to distance his parents!

But as she jabbed the key into the ignition, she knew the fault didn’t lie with Cal. It was hers alone. She was to blame for everything, and the wrong she’d done had spread until it touched more people than she could ever have imagined.

She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and drove blindly down the lane, thoughts of the butterfly effect swirling through her mind. It was a concept that scientists who studied chaos theory talked about, the notion that something as simple as a butterfly’s wings stirring the air in Singapore could cause a ripple effect that would eventually affect weather systems in Denver. The butterfly effect could also be a mini morality lesson, and she remembered talking to her third graders about it, telling them that any good deed, no matter how small, could keep multiplying until it had changed the whole world forever for the better.

Her deed had done the same thing, but in reverse. Her selfish act was causing pain to an increasing number of innocent people. And there was no end in sight. The harm kept spreading, the butterfly effect multiplying. She had hurt Cal, she was hurting his parents, and, worst of all, her bad judgment was going to hurt their baby.