Unfinished Business (9 page)

“I learned a lot by working here before I bought it. From reading, from haunting other shops and auctions.” She laughed a little as she closed the cabinet door. “And through trial and error. I've made some costly mistakes, but I've also wangled some real bargains.”

“You have so many beautiful things. Oh, look at this.” Almost reverently, she picked up a Limoges ring box. It was per
haps six inches high and fashioned in the shape of a young girl in a blue bonnet and blue checkered dress. There was a look of smug pleasure on her glossy face. “This is charming.”

“I always try to keep in a few Limoges pieces. Whether they're antique or new.”

“I have a small collection myself. It's difficult to travel with fragile things, but they always make hotel suites more like home.”

“I'd like you to have it.”

“I couldn't.”

“Please,” Loretta said before Vanessa could set it down again. “I've missed a number of birthdays. It would give me a great deal of pleasure if you'd accept it.”

Vanessa looked up. They had to turn at least the first corner, she told herself. “Thank you. I'll treasure it.”

“I'll get a box for it. Oh, there's the door. I get a lot of browsers on weekday mornings. You can take a look upstairs if you like.”

Vanessa kept the little box cupped in her hands. “No, I'll wait for you.” Loretta gave her a pleased look before she walked away to greet her customer. When she heard Dr. Tucker's voice join her mother's, Vanessa hesitated, then went in to meet him.

“Well, Van, getting a look at your mother at work?”

“Yes.”

He had his arm around her mother's shoulders. Loretta's color had risen. He's just kissed her, Vanessa realized, trying to analyze her feelings. “It's a wonderful place.”

“Keeps her off the streets. Of course, I'm going to be doing that myself from now on.”

“Ham!”

“Don't tell me you haven't told the child yet.” He gave her
a quick, impatient squeeze. “Good grief, Loretta, you've had all morning.”

“Tell me what?”

With these two, Ham thought, a man had to take the bull by the horns. “It's taken me two years to wear her down, but she finally gave me a yes.”

“A yes?” Vanessa repeated.

“Don't tell me you're as thickheaded as your mother?” He kissed the top of Loretta's head and grinned like a boy. “We're getting married.”

“Oh.” Vanessa stared blankly. “Oh.”

“Is that the best you can do?” he demanded. “Why don't you say congratulations and give me a kiss?”

“Congratulations,” she said mechanically, and walked over to peck his cheek.

“I said a kiss.” He swung his free arm around her and squeezed. Vanessa found herself hugging him back.

“I hope you'll be happy,” she managed, and discovered she meant it.

“Of course I will. I'm getting two beauties for the price of one.”

“Quite a bargain,” Vanessa said with a smile. “When's the big day?”

“As soon as I can pin her down.” It hadn't escaped him that Vanessa and Loretta hadn't exchanged a word or an embrace. “Joanie's fixing dinner for all of us tonight,” he decided on the spot. “To celebrate.”

“I'll be there.”

When she stepped back, he grinned wickedly. “After the piano lesson.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “News travels fast.”

“Piano lesson?” Loretta repeated.

“Annie Crampton, Violet Driscoll's grandniece.” He gave a hearty laugh as Vanessa wrinkled her nose. “Violet snagged Vanessa this morning.”

Loretta smiled. “What time's the lesson?”

“Four. She made me feel like I was the second-grade milk monitor again.”

“I can speak to Annie's mother if you'd like,” Loretta said.

“No, it's all right. It's only an hour a week while I'm here. But I'd better get back.” This was not the time for questions and demands. “I have to put some kind of program together. Thank you again for the box.”

“But I haven't wrapped it.”

“It's all right. I'll see you at Joanie's, Dr. Tucker.”

“Maybe you could call me Ham now. We're family.”

“Yes. Yes, I guess we are.” It was less effort than she had expected to kiss her mother's cheek. “You're a very lucky woman.”

“I know.” Loretta's fingers dug into Ham's.

When the bells jingled behind Vanessa, Ham took out a handkerchief.

“I'm sorry,” Loretta said as she sniffled into it.

“You're entitled to shed a few. I told you she'd come around.”

“She has every reason to hate me.”

“You're too hard on yourself, Loretta, and I won't have it.”

She merely shook her head as she balled the handkerchief in her hand. “Oh, the choices we make in this life, Ham. And the mistakes. I'd give anything in the world to have another chance with her.”

“Time's all you need to give.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her. “Just give her time.”

 

Vanessa listened to the monotonous plunk of the keys as Annie ground out “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” She might
have good hands, but so far Vanessa hadn't seen her put them to good use.

She was a skinny girl with pale flyaway hair, a sulky disposition and knobby knees. But her twelve-year old hands were wide-palmed. Her fingers weren't elegant, but they were as sturdy as little trees.

Potential, Vanessa thought as she tried to smile her encouragement. Surely there was some potential buried there somewhere.

“How many hours a week do you practice, Annie?” Vanessa asked when the child had mercifully finished.

“I don't know.”

“Do you do your finger exercises every day?”

“I don't know.”

Vanessa gritted her teeth. She had already learned this was Annie's standard answer for all questions. “You've been taking lessons regularly for nearly a year.”

“I don't—”

Vanessa put up a hand. “Why don't we make this easy? What do you know?”

Annie just shrugged and swung her feet.

Giving up, Vanessa sat beside her on the stool. “Annie—and give me a real answer—do you want to take piano lessons?”

Annie knocked the heels of her orange sneakers together. “I guess.”

“Is it because your mother wants you to?”

“I asked if I could.” She stared sulkily down at the keys. “I thought I would like it.”

“But you don't.”

“I kinda do. Sometimes. But I just get to play baby songs.”

“Mmm.” Sympathetic, Vanessa stroked her hair. “And what do you want to play?”

“Stuff like Madonna sings. You know, good stuff. Stuff like you hear on the radio.” She slanted Vanessa a look. “My other teacher said that's not real music.”

“All music is real music. We could make a deal.”

Suspicion lighted in Annie's pale eyes. “What kind of deal?”

“You practice an hour every day on your finger exercises and the lesson I give you.” She ignored Annie's moan. “And I'll buy some sheet music. One of Madonna's songs. I'll teach you to play it.”

Annie's sulky mouth fell open. “For real?”

“For real. But only if you practice every day, so that when you come next week I see an improvement.”

“All right!” For the first time in nearly an hour, she grinned, nearly blinding Vanessa with her braces. “Wait till I tell Mary Ellen. She's my best friend.”

“You've got another fifteen minutes before you can tell her.” Vanessa rose, inordinately pleased with herself. “Now, why don't you try that number again?”

Her face screwed up with concentration, Annie began to play. A little incentive, Vanessa thought with a lifted brow, went a long way.

An hour later, she was still congratulating herself. Tutoring the girl might be fun after all. And she could indulge her own affection for popular music.

 

Later in her room, Vanessa ran a finger down the Limoges box her mother had given her. Things were changing for her, faster than she had expected. Her mother wasn't the woman she had thought she would find. She was much more human. Her home was still her home. Her friends still her friends.

And Brady was still Brady.

She wanted to be with him, to have her name linked with
his as it once had been. At sixteen she had been so sure. Now, as a woman she was afraid, afraid of making a mistake, of being hurt, of losing.

People couldn't just pick up where they had left off. And she could hardly start a new beginning when she had yet to resolve the past.

She took her time dressing for the family dinner. It was to be a festive occasion, and she was determined to be a part of it. Her deep blue dress was cut slimly, with a splash of multicolored beadwork along one shoulder. She left her hair loose, and added braided earrings studded with sapphires.

Before she closed her jewelry box, she took out a ring with a tiny emerald. Unable to resist, she slipped it on. It still fit, she thought, and smiled at the way it looked on her finger. With a shake of her head, she pulled it off again. That was just the sort of sentiment she had to learn to avoid. Particularly if she was going to get through an evening in Brady's company.

They were going to be friends, she reminded herself. Just friends. It had been a long time since she had been able to indulge in the luxury of a friendship. And if she was still attracted to him—well, that would just add a touch of spice, a little excitement. She wouldn't risk her heart, or his, on anything more.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, swearing at the discomfort. Out of her drawer she took an extra roll of antacids. Festive the evening might be, she thought as she took a pill. But it would still be stressful.

It was time she learned to deal with stress better, she told herself as she stared at her reflection. It was time she refused to allow her body to revolt every time she had to deal with something uncomfortable or unpleasant. She was a grown woman, after all, and a disciplined one. If she could learn to
tolerate emotional distress, she could certainly overcome the physical.

After checking her watch, she started downstairs. Vanessa Sexton was never late for a performance.

“Well, well.” Brady was lounging at the base of the steps. “You're still Sexy Sexton.”

Just what she needed, she thought, her stomach muscles knotting. Did he have to look so gorgeous? She glanced at the front door that he'd left open behind him, then back at him.

“You're wearing a suit.”

He glanced down at the gray tweed. “Looks like.”

“I've never seen you in a suit,” she said foolishly. She stopped a step above him. Eye-to-eye. “Why aren't you at Joanie's?”

“Because I'm taking you to Joanie's.”

“That's silly. I have my own—”

“Shut up.” Taking her shoulders, he hauled her against him for a kiss. “Every time I do that, you taste better.”

She had to wait for her heart to flutter back into place. “Look, Brady, we're going to have to set up some ground rules.”

“I hate rules.” He kissed her again, lingering over it this time. “I'm going to get a real kick out of being related to you.” He drew back, grinning. “Sis.”

“You're not acting very brotherly,” she murmured.

“I'll boss you around later. How do you feel about it?”

“I've always loved your father.”

“And?”

“And I hope I'm not hard-hearted enough to begrudge my mother any happiness she might have with him.”

“That'll do for now.” He narrowed his eyes as she rubbed her temple. “Headache?”

She dropped her hand quickly. “Just a little one.”

“Take anything?”

“No, it'll pass. Shouldn't we go?”

“All right.” He took her hand to lead her out. “I was thinking…why don't we drop by Molly's Hole on the way home?”

She couldn't help but laugh. “You still have a one-track mind.”

He opened the car door for her. “Is that a yes?”

She tilted her head, slanted him a look. “That's an I'll-think-about-it.”

“Brat,” he muttered as he closed the door.

Ten minutes later, Joanie was bursting through her front door to greet them. “Isn't it great? I can hardly stand it!” She grabbed Vanessa to swing her around. “We're really going to be sisters now. I'm so happy for them, for us!” She gave Vanessa another crushing hug.

“Hey, how about me?” Brady demanded. “Don't I even get a hello?”

“Oh, hi, Brady.” At his disgusted look, she laughed and launched herself at him. “Wow! You wore a suit and everything!”

“So I'm told. Dad said we had to dress up.”

“And did you ever.” She pulled back. “Both of you. Lord, Van, where did you get that dress? Fabulous,” she said, before Vanessa could answer. “I'd kill to be able to squeeze my hips into that. Well, don't just stand out here, come on in. We've got a ton of food, champagne, the works.”

“Hell of a hostess, isn't she?” Brady commented as Joanie rushed inside, shouting for her husband.

Joanie hadn't exaggerated about the food. There was a huge glazed ham, with a mountain of whipped potatoes, an array of vegetables, fluffy homemade biscuits. The scent of cooling
apple pies wafted in from the kitchen. The home's festive air was accented by candles and the glint of crystal wineglasses.

The conversation was loud and disjointed, punctuated by Lara's cheerful banging of her spoon against the tray of her high chair.

Vanessa heard her mother laughing, more freely, more openly, than she could ever remember. And she looked lovely, Vanessa thought, smiling at Ham, leaning over to stroke Lara. It was happiness, she realized. True happiness. In all her memories, she could pull out no picture of her mother's face when it had been truly happy.