Always (2 page)

“What a crock of shit,” Odessa said, fanning
herself with her free hand.

“I believe that’s baby shit,” Graham said,
smiling despite the stench.

Odessa dangled the child over her lap,
shrieking as if she’d never encountered a dirty diaper. “You better
pull this car over and fix this.”

“Da da da da,” Amalie cooed and reached her
arms for him.

“Told ya, she knows who I am.” Graham made a
sharp left and turned into the parking lot of the first gas station
they passed.

“Okay, Da Da, change her.” Odessa thrust
Amalie at him before he could cut the engine.

“Go ask for the key to the ladies room,” he
said.

“I’m not changing her.”

“If I’m going to do this,” Graham held
Amalie at a safe distance, “the least you can do is go wet me a
wash cloth to wipe her with.”

“Fine,” she said, getting out of the car and
slamming the door behind her.

“You could have waited to fill your britches
after meeting your grandma,” he said.

Amalie grinned and tilted her head like a
curious puppy. “Da da da da.”

Deciding it was best for the car’s leather
seats, not to mention the smell, Graham grabbed the diaper bag and
got out of the car. He spread a blanket over the trunk of the 280SL
and plopped Amalie down to wrestle her out of her ruffled
panties.

“It’s a good thing you’re not wearing one of
those cloth diapers from that fancy delivery service your mama has
me paying for.”

“Da da da da,” Amalie cooed in
agreement.

“They do make good wipes though,” he said,
before holding his breath to use one of the expensive cloth diapers
to wipe the worse of the shit off her bottom. “That wasn’t too bad
of a mess.”

“Da da da da.”

Graham wadded up the disposable diaper and
slid a clean one under her bottom before looking around to see what
was keeping Dess. He blinked from the glare of another car pulling
up beside them, an all too familiar blue Cutlass, his mother behind
the wheel.

“What are you doing with that baby?” his mom
said, all too quickly right by his side. She looked at Amalie and
she looked and him and then her eyes darted back to Amalie. “That’s
your kid.”

There was no questioning in her voice.

“Da da da da,” Amalie confirmed.

“I thought you sold this car,” his mom said,
surprisingly him by how quickly she changed the subject.

“I–”

“Here you go,” Dess said, presenting him
with a wet towel.

His mom gave him a questioning look,
obviously expecting this strange red haired woman to take over with
the diaper changing. Graham took the towel and wiped Amalie’s
bottom, not rushing to secure the diaper in place before attempting
to make any introductions.

“Darling, wherever are your manners?” Dess
reached for Amalie, acting all maternal now that the dirty work was
competed. “Aren’t you going to make the introductions?”

“Mom, this is Dess.”

“Odessa,” she said, quickly correcting
him.

“This is Odessa.” Graham wiped his hands on
a clean diaper before gesturing toward his mom. “This is my mom,
Thelma.”

“Enchanté, Mrs. Edwards,” Odessa said in
that bad Audrey Hepburn impersonation Graham noticed she always
used when something made her nervous. She extended her free hand to
shake hands with his mother. “So very nice to finally meet
you.”

“I assume you’re the mother of this child.”
His mother firmly gripped her hand, not giving away any emotions
from her tone or blank expression. “My granddaughter.”

“Yes.” Odessa smiled smugly. “This is your
granddaughter, Amalie.”

His mom peered at Amalie carefully studying
the little girl’s face. “Interesting name. I take it you ain’t from
around here.”

“Amalie is French.”

“Knock it off, Dess,” Graham said. “You’ve
never even been to France.”

“It’s Odessa.” She jutted her lip defiantly.
“How do you know that I never went to Paris with–”

“How about we go get something to eat?”
Graham swiped a bead of sweat trickling from his brow. “It’s
getting hot out here.”

“Good idea,” his mom agreed, already
starting back to her car. “I’ll meet y’all at the Barnard’s
Steakhouse just like we originally planned.”

“Steakhouse?” Odessa’s expression got even
more sour.

“They have salads and vegetables too,” he
said. “And it’s Mom’s favorite restaurant.”

“It’s my first Mother’s Day, too, you
know?”

That, he was all too aware of.

Odessa

I went for that bottle of gin as soon as I
got back into the car.

“Don’t,” Graham said, forcefully taking the
bottle out of my hand. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t
drink in front of my mother.”

“Come on, I’ll share.” I pouted.

He ignored me and started up the car.

“I don’t know why you’re so uptight.” I
adjusted Amalie on my lap as he pulled out of the parking lot
behind his mom’s big boat of an Oldsmobile. “I thought the
introductions went rather well.”

Graham reached over both of us to open the
glove compartment. “Here,” he said, tossing a box in my lap. “I was
going to save your Mother’s Day gift for later, but maybe it will
convince you to be on your best behavior.”

I tore off the wrapping paper, trying my
best to conceal my disappointment when I saw that the box was red
instead of an all too familiar bird’s egg blue. I suppose Roger had
gotten me a little spoiled with his indulgence of my penchant for
all things Tiffany’s.

“Thank you,” I smiled up at him, hesitating
over my fear to open the tacky red box.

“Go on and open it up,” he said.

I laughed nervously and yanked a shred of
paper from Amalie’s mouth. “Eyes on the road.”

All too quickly he pulled into the
restaurant parking lot and turned to me with the engine still
running. “I hope you like them.”

There was no putting it off, I popped the
lid off the box and was pleasantly surprised by a lovely pair of
pearl earrings.

“I found them when I was out diving and then
took them to have them set just for you.”

“I love them.” And I really did. “If you’ll
just hold your daughter a moment.”

He took Amalie from me and I removed my
current earrings, huge chunky almost too large to look real diamond
studs, a gift from Roger of course, and carefully swapped them for
the much classier delicate pearls.

His eyes lingered on the diamonds. “Do you
really like them?”

“They’re gorgeous.” I snapped the lid closed
and casually tossed the box into the diaper bag. “Much nicer than
those gaudy faux diamonds,” I lied, knowing good and well that
Roger had spent an arm and a leg on them because I had taken then
to a jewelry store to have them appraised the very day he’d dumped
me back in 1963. I’d considered selling them, but… I sighed… I
loved those rocks.

Graham got out of the car and came around to
open the door for me. I reached for his hand and felt a stab of
guilt that seared all the way through my gut. I had no right to get
that emotional over a stupid pair of earrings when I had a man as
incredible as Graham who loved me enough to introduce his bastard
daughter to a mother who believed her oldest son had hung the
moon.

“Wait a minute.” I took off my pentacle
pendant and dug into my purse for the pearl necklace. I found the
pearls and dangled them in my hand. “Could you fasten these for
me?”

His face lit up, those amazing dimples of
his popping when he smiled.

“Here, let me hold her,” Graham’s mother
said, reaching out to take Amalie.

The kid who normally shrieks like a banshee
when being handed off to anyone other than her Da Da or my best
friend, Carmella, giggled happily and hugged onto her grandma like
she’d known her since the day she was born.

“I’ll go on and get us a table,” she said,
already taking off without us.

Graham worked the clasp around my neck and
whispered in my ear, “Try to behave yourself.”

I handed him the ridiculously pink diaper
bag and casually patted his butt before taking his arm. “Me,
behave?”

Graham

No matter how often it happened, Graham
didn’t think he’d ever get over the thrill of walking into a room
with Dess on his arm. He’d gotten used to being recognized on his
own a long time ago. When Dess was with him it was an entirely
different level of celebrity. There wasn’t a man with a functional
dick who didn’t take notice of Odessa’s striking beauty. There was
nothing normal about her with that red hair, long legs, and the way
she just commanded attention without even realizing what she was
doing.

He pulled out her chair knowing that no
matter how they looked at her, she was his. There wasn’t a man in
Florida with enough nerve to try him on that fact. No, make that
anywhere, unless that prick Roger Rohde happened to be in town. He
looked over at his daughter smiling happily in his mom’s arms and
realized that little girl was the one thing he shared with Dess
that Rohde would never be able to have.

“I believe she likes you,” he said, patting
his mom’s back as he took a seat between her and his mother.

“I’m pretty sure this is the sweetest baby
I’ve ever seen,” she said, absolutely beaming at Amalie. “I would
say the cutest, but seeing as she looks exactly like me, that might
be considered vain.”

“I was so hoping she’d take after her Da
Da,” Odessa said, inserting her foot in her mouth and not even
realizing it.

Graham studied his mother’s face and then
his daughter’s. He did see the resemblance. They did both have the
same chestnut brown hair, hawkish narrow eyes and strong chin. The
same chin he looked at in the mirror every morning and almost the
same eyes, although both of their peepers were more hazel than
blue.

“She really does favor you,” he said.

Odessa stared much to intently at his mom.
“Maybe so. At least she’s not quite as homely as Graham’s other
kid.”

“Dess.” Graham squeezed her knee under the
table just as, much to his relief, the waitress arrived to take
their drink orders.”

“Water, please,” Dess said, before giving
him her pouty look.

“I believe I’ll have a gin and ginger,” his
mom said.

Dess nodded with approval. “Oh, that sounds
delish, me too.”

“And you, sir?” the waitress asked.

“Sweet tea.”

“Party pooper,” Dess admonished.

“Son, it’s okay if you want to have a
drink.” His mom tilted her head and smiled encouragingly. “I think
we might all need a little something to take the edge off.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. “Make that
a Jack and Coke, then.”

Dess patted his thigh under the table and
rewarded him with a genuine smile. “Now that’s better.”

There was an awkward silence as all of them
pretended to be busy scanning their menus instead of addressing the
real issue of a woman other than his wife and the baby at the table
with them.

“Are y’all ready to order?” the waitress
asked after serving their drinks.

“I am,” his mom said. “I’ll have the beef
tips, medium well.”

Graham glanced at Dess over the top of his
menu, hoping she wasn’t going to make a scene over them eating what
she referred to as dead cow. She didn’t meet his gaze, seeming to
be more interested in her drink than her lunch options.

“Can I get mashed potatoes instead of
baked?” his mom added. “My grandbaby might want a few bites.”

“Sure,” the waitress said, before turning
her attention to Dess. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”

“I’m not hungry,” Dess said.

“How about a baked potato?” Graham
suggested, not wanting her drinking on an empty stomach.

“I’ll just have another drink.”

“She’ll have a baked potato,” Graham said,
ordering for her.

“Loaded?” the waitress asked.

“Yes,” he said, thinking that’s what Dess
would be if he didn’t get some food in her soon.

“And another drink,” Dess added.

“What would you like?” the waitress’s face
suddenly lit up with recognition. “You’re that wrestler, aren’t
you? Graham Edwards. My grandpa used to take me to see you wrestle
at the Armory when I was just a little kid.”

Dess laughed so hard he was surprised she
didn’t spew gin all over the table. She politely wiped her mouth
and said, “He’s aged well, hasn’t he?”

“I’ll say.” She nodded in agreement.

Dess quickly reached for his hand, all of a
sudden acting all possessive about a young girl paying him an
offhanded compliment.

“That’s my boy,” his mom agreed.

Graham let go of Dess’s hand and took a
soothing sip of his drink. His mouth was watering for a big juicy
steak, but instead he went with something safe and ordered eggplant
Parmesan.

“What?” His mom gave him a puzzled look.
“You’re not getting your usual rib eye?”

“No, I’m in the mood for some pasta.” He
downed a more manly sip of Jack, and before the waitress could
gather up their menus, he added, “I believe I’ll have another
drink, too. How about you, ma?”

“Maybe after we get our food.”

After the waitress was out of earshot, his
mom finally said, “I believe the two of you have some explaining to
do.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know where babies
come from,” Dess said, before taking a smug bite out of a
breadstick.

“Maybe I should be the one asking you that,”
his mom replied without skipping a beat.

“Amalie wasn’t exactly planned,” Graham
said. “But, now that she’s here–”

“I’m not placing any of the blame on this
sweet child.” His mom hugged Amalie a little closer to her chest.
“It’s this whole affair. I can tell just from the way you look at
her.” She looked back and forth between him and Dess. “This baby
isn’t the result of a one nightstand.”