Ask Mariah (21 page)

"You do that really well, you know," Michael muttered as he lifted his head.

"So do you."

"I missed you today."

"I missed you, too." She couldn't believe she was admitting that to him. But there was honesty in his eyes that demanded honesty in return. She started as she heard Lily call out to Rose. "The girls." She clapped her hand over her mouth. "My God, I almost forgot about the girls. If they see us kissing, they'll think I'm their mother again." 

Michael dropped his hands from her waist and stepped back. "You're right. We'll keep our distance."

She wondered if that was possible.

"I'll check the basement," he added. "You can start in the attic. With any luck we won't even see each other for a few hours. That should cool things down."

She doubted it. She'd never felt such a sudden and intense attraction to a man.  Maybe because they'd skipped a lot of those little steps that most people take, like going on a date, getting to know each other over coffee. Instead she'd jumped into the middle of his life, and he'd jumped into the middle of hers. 

"Joanna!" Rose screamed, interrupting her thoughts.

She turned sharply as Rose ran through the kitchen door. "What's wrong?"

"Lily fell down the cliff."

Joanna ran toward the back door. "Go get your dad. He's in the basement -- down the hall to your left."

The backyard of Ruby Mae's house went straight back to the cliffs that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. There was a short picket fence edging the property, but any determined six-year-old could easily get over it.

Joanna climbed over the fence and carefully picked her way to the edge, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lily. As she did so she saw a path of crumbling cement stairs leading down the hillside. Before she could take a step toward them, Michael came up behind her, his eyes worried, his stance tense.

"Do you see her?"

"No."

"Lily! Lily!" he shouted, cupping his hands so the wind wouldn't take away his voice. "Where are you?" He turned to Joanna. "You try, just in case she won't answer me."

"Lily!" Joanna called, but there was still no reply.

"She went down the steps," Rose said, sliding her arms around Joanna's waist. "Then she screamed and I heard the rocks fall."

"I'm going after her," Michael said. "Call 911."

"Joanna ..." Lily's voice carried across the early evening breeze. "Where are you? I'm stuck."

"Wait," Michael said, putting a hand on Joanna's arm. "She sounds okay. Let me see if I can get to her first." He carefully picked his way down the first few cement steps, testing each one with his foot before putting all his weight on it.  "I'm coming, Lily," he shouted.  "Just stay where you are and don't move, okay?"

She held her breath as Michael picked his way down the hillside, wondering if she shouldn't call 911 anyway. What if he fell? What if Lily was hurt?

"It's okay. I can see her," Michael called a minute later.  "I can get her. Hang on, Lily, I'll be right there."

A few minutes later Michael came back up the hill, carrying Lily in his arms. He set her down on the grass and tenderly stroked the traces of tears from her eyes. "Does it hurt anywhere, honey?"

Lily shook her head, her face streaked with tears.

"Her foot was caught in the roots of a tree," Michael said to Joanna. "I thought she might have twisted it, but it doesn't feel swollen." He ran his hand down her slender ankle once again. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?" he asked again.

Once again Lily replied to his question with a negative shake of her head.

Michael sighed as he stared at his daughter. "I told you not to go near that fence, didn't I? What am I going to do with you? You scared me to death." He paused. "But I am really glad you're okay."

Lily's bottom lip began to tremble, and Michael put his arms around her. Rose knelt down next to her father and put her hand on his arm. Joanna's heart almost broke in two at the sight. The girls might not talk to their father, but they truly loved him, and he loved them. There hadn't been a moment's hesitation in his actions, not a doubt that he might be risking his own life to climb down that cliff.

"Joanna ..." Lily said as she pulled away from her father. "I'm sorry I went over the fence."

"You should apologize to your father," she said sharply. "Not to me."

Lily licked her lips. "I can't," she whispered, her face a picture of conflict. "Mama ..."

"It's all right," Michael said. "I know you're sorry. You're also in trouble, and as soon as I can think of a fitting punishment, I'll let you know. Now, for the rest of the evening you are confined to the house. If you so much as set one foot out of the front or back door, I'll take you home."

Lily and Rose nodded their agreement.

"Can you walk on that foot, honey?" he asked.

Lily cautiously stood up and took a few steps.

"All right then," he said.  "Let's go inside."

"I brought some coloring books and some crayons. They're in the hall by my purse," Joanna said. "Why don't you sit at the dining room table and color for a while?"

As the girls entered the house, she turned to Michael. "Are you okay?"

"I've probably added a few more gray hairs to my collection, but other than that I'm fine. The girls are only six. Do you think I'm going to make it through their teenage years?"

"If anyone can, you can."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She pulled a twig off his sleeve, feeling an incredible wave of affection toward this man. "You're a great dad, you know."

"If I were a great dad, Lily never would have gone over that fence in the first place."

"You can't blame yourself. Lily has a mind of her own."

"I should have known better. A fence to Lily is like a beacon in the night. She simply can't resist seeing what's on the other side."

"Some day that curiosity will probably take her to the top of whatever field she chooses to go into."

"So you're saying it's a good thing," he queried.

"It could be," she said with a small smile.

"You're an optimist, aren't you?"

"I try."

"And you probably like to make people feel better."

"If I can."

"Then how about a kiss for the hero of the hour?" he asked with a grin.

"I thought we were keeping our distance."

"A simple kiss between friends. What could happen?"

What could happen? The question begged to be answered one hundred different ways, but Joanna could only make one reply. She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed his mouth in a way that made a mockery of the word "friends." In fact, this simple kiss made a mockery of every other kiss she'd ever given or received. There was more passion, more feeling, more love than ever before.

"How was that for a simple kiss?" she asked, pleased that he looked just as bemused as she felt.

"Not bad."

"I feel as if I've known you forever."

"Me, too."

"It's a little scary."

"Terrifying."

Joanna took a step back. "I guess I'll head up to the attic."

"I'll finish in the basement." He paused. "Joanna, I don't think you should kiss any of your other men friends that way "

"Why not?"

"They might get the wrong idea. They might think you want more than just a kiss."

"But
you
didn't get the wrong idea."

"Me? No, of course not. I know exactly what you want," he said with a gleam in his eye.

"You do?"

"Yes, but my children are coloring in the dining room."

"And if they weren't?"

"You wouldn't be standing up right now."

The rest of the evening sped by. Joanna sorted through the boxes in the attic, setting aside journals, newspaper clippings, and photos in one pile; old clothes and anything that fell into the category of "stuff" in another.

The upstairs bedrooms didn't warrant much more than a quick search, as three of them didn't appear to have been used in quite some time. Even Ruby Mae's bedroom was bereft of the attic's clutter of sentiment. It seemed as if she had locked the past away long before her actual death.

Lily and Rose had a grand time playing dress up, but by seven o'clock they were clamoring for dinner. Because Michael still seemed to be enthralled with studying the beams that supported the house, Joanna made a pizza and soda run and called her mother to tell her she'd be late.

Caroline seemed resigned to spending yet another evening alone. Maybe if she spent enough time alone, she'd find someone else to do things with. After all, she couldn't spend the next twenty years of her life entertaining her mother. But she still felt bad, which made her order extra cheese on the pizza. Guilt always made her hungry.

When she returned to the house, Michael and the girls had lit candles and cleared off the kitchen table. As they picnicked on pizza, Joanna felt as if they were a family. It would be so easy to let herself forget Angela, even though she knew the other three could never forget.

"Tell me about your mother," she said impulsively. "What was her favorite food?"

"Spaghetti," the twins chorused.

She smiled at Michael. "I should have predicted that."

Michael didn't smile back. "Joanna, don't."

"I'm curious about her." She turned her attention to Lily. "What was your favorite game to play with your mother?"
             

"Dress up."

Rose agreed. "Sometimes Mama would let us wear her high heels and her jewelry, and we'd put on makeup and pretend we were going to a party."

"She trained them well," Michael said with disgust.

"Daddy didn't like it," Lily said to Joanna, obviously irritated with her father's comment. "Mama said we were the prettiest girls in the world."

Maybe she should end the discussion. Michael was growing more uncomfortable with each question, and the girls seemed to be taking sides against him. Somehow Angela had built a wall between the girls and their father. Her death had made the wall even bigger.

"Mama was fun," Rose said with a hint of sadness in her voice. "She laughed all the time -- well, most of the time. Sometimes she cried." Rose darted a look at her father, then slid her chair closer to Joanna.

Michael suddenly stood up. "I'm going to take a few more measurements outside."

"We can change the subject," she suggested.

"Why? I'm sure the girls would love to tell you about their mother and our fights and about how mean I was to Angela." He started to say more, then bit down on his lip, turned on his heel, and slammed out the back door.

"Daddy's mad," Lily observed. "Mama always made him mad."

Joanna stood up, torn between going after Michael and staying with the girls. Even if she went to him, she didn't know what she would say. None of this was any of her business.

"Let's go into the living room, girls. I cleaned up in there, so you two can lie on the couch, and I'll tell you a story while we wait for your father to finish."

"Okay."

She carried two candles into the living room and set them down on the coffee table. Then she sat on the couch, the girls settling in on either side of her, resting their little heads against her arms. She loved the feel of their hair against her skin, the scent of their bubble gum shampoo right under her nose, the pressure of their soft, cuddly bodies against hers. For a moment she felt very much like a mother, and it touched her deeply.

She loved these girls. It had happened so fast. A look, a smile, a laugh, and her loneliness had fled. Lily and Rose had brought her back to life in four short days, reminding her of what it was like to love someone.

And their father... Michael reminded her of what it was like to want someone, to be so acutely aware of another's presence that the simplest glance, the briefest touch, the smallest smile, touched off a deep, compelling need to come together.

"Tell us again about when Ruby Mae first came to the city," Lily said, interrupting her thoughts. "I like the part where she dyes her hair blond."

"Okay, but don't get any ideas about dyeing your own hair."

Lily tilted her head so she could smile at Joanna. "Mama colored her hair once. She put a pink stripe right down the middle. Daddy yelled at her." Lily's smile disappeared at the memory.

They were right back where they'd been in the kitchen. Joanna knew she couldn't let the conversation go on without interjecting her own thoughts. "Sometimes people disagree. It doesn't mean they don't love each other."

"I'm glad you and Daddy don't fight," Rose said. "I used to get scared when Mama locked herself in the bathroom. We could hear her crying, but she wouldn't come out. Once I tried to push some Kleenex under the door for her, but I don't think she saw it."

Rose's sadly matter-of-fact words tugged at Joanna's heart. She could see the girls standing by the door, scared that their mother was crying, not knowing what to do, how to help her. She found herself getting angry with Angela for not realizing how her behavior was affecting her children. And where had Michael been when his wife was in tears?

"Sometimes Daddy would ask her to come out. He'd say he was sorry, but she never came out until he left," Lily said, answering Joanna's silent question.

Joanna hugged the girls, wanting them to feel secure with her, not scared or worried, just safe. "Even though your mom and dad fought with each other, they also loved each other and they loved you. Sometimes you two argue over something you both want, but that doesn't change the fact that you're sisters and that you love each other."

"If Daddy loved Mommy, he wouldn't have made her go away," Lily said sadly.

"Are you sure he made her go away?" Joanna sensed they were nearing the big promise that the girls had made.

"Mama said so," Rose replied. "She made us promise not to -- "

"Rose, you almost told her," Lily interrupted.

Rose's lips trembled as she fought with herself. Her determination not to break her promise finally won out, "I'm sorry, Joanna, but I can't tell you,"

"That's all right, honey. You just have to remember that sometimes secrets can hurt people."

"But no one is getting hurt," Lily said.

"Don't you think it hurts your father's feelings when you don't talk to him? He climbed down the cliff to save you from getting hurt, Lily. You couldn't even say thank you."

"I -- I wanted to."

"Sometimes Daddy does look really sad," Rose said as Lily rubbed her eyes.

Joanna softened at the look of remorse on Lily's face, but she couldn't let the little girl off the hook. Michael might be resigned to their behavior, but she wasn't. "I think your father deserves more from you than silence. He needs to know about the promise you made to your mother."

"But he's the one we can't tell, because if he knew then he'd get mad, and Mama could never come back. She said so," Lily replied.

"As long as Daddy doesn't know about the other man, she can still come back," Rose added, not realizing she'd given something away.

Another man? Had Angela been having an affair?

She
remembered the girls telling her about a man with a mustache. Had they promised to keep the affair a secret? What mother would ask such a thing of her children, to involve two innocent little girls in her own deception?

Joanna disliked Angela more and more. Everything she'd heard about the woman pointed to Angela being spoiled, selfish, and immature. And it annoyed the hell out of her that she had to look like such a person.

Silently she counted to ten, knowing that the girls adored their mother despite her shortcomings, and it certainly wasn't up to Joanna to criticize, especially a woman who was no longer around to defend herself. Whatever Angela's faults, she had certainly inspired a sense of loyalty in the twins. Angela must have had something going for her. Maybe someday Joanna would be able to figure out what that was.

"Do you want to hear about Ruby Mae now?" she asked, playing with Lily's hair.

The girls nodded, obviously pleased by the change in subject.

"Ruby Mae was born Rebecca Margaret Blakesdale, and she came to San Francisco in 1920, the beginning of a time in our history that was called the Roaring Twenties."

"Were there lions then?" Lily asked.

She laughed, forgetting how literal they were. "No lions, but the people who lived then loved to party. Ruby Mae was one of them. She was eight years old when she came to San Francisco, the only daughter of a widowed gold digger. Ruby Mae loved music and she loved to dance."

Ten minutes later the girls fell fast asleep when Joanna got to the part about how Ruby Mae had decided to become a dancer in a saloon. It was a good place to stop, since Joanna would have to do some heavy editing of Ruby Mae's story to make it acceptable for the girls.

She rested her head against the couch. She felt so comfortable in this house, solid ground under her feet, the yard outside, the waves of the ocean audible through the open windows, the sound of crickets in the garden. This wasn't just a house. It was a home, or it could be with the right owners, with the right family in it.

Family
. It was easier to think about Ruby Mae and her mysterious life than to consider the mystery going on in her own life. Although she had considerable imagination, she had also inherited a sense of logic from her father, and deep down she knew she was missing some vital piece of information.

She thought about what Michael had said earlier, about Elena, Sophia's sister. Maybe she should talk to her. But what would she say? 

She turned her head and saw Michael watching her from the doorway, bathed in the light of the burning candles. She couldn't see his eyes, or even his expression, but she could feel his presence as strongly as if she were touching him. It had been that way since the very beginning. She had finally found the missing part of herself.

But what had he found? A woman who looked like his wife. Was he seeing Angela even now as Joanna sat with his children tucked into her body, as she held his daughters as if she were their mother?

She wanted him to say something. Her body tensed with each passing second of silence.

Finally he walked slowly into the room. He sat down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, his gaze intent on her face.

"Do you want to go now?" Joanna asked.

"In a few minutes. Let them sleep."

"Michael -- " she began, then stopped, because she didn't know what to say.

"It's all right, Joanna. I still know who you are."

She drew in a quick breath as she met his perceptive gaze. "You must have seen the kids like this with your wife a hundred times."

"It isn't the same."

As in better or worse? She wasn't sure she could accept either answer.

Michael's expression softened as he gazed at his children. "Little angels," he said in a quiet voice, "So sweet and innocent, and a whole world out there waiting for them to be whatever they want to be. I envy them that. I'd like nothing more than to start over with a clean slate."

"I don't think any of us can do that. We are our pasts."

"Now you sound like a historian." He paused. "What else did you find out about Ruby Mae today?"

"Lots," she said with an enthusiastic smile. "Ruby Mae had an ongoing affair with a very respectable and very married city councilman. In fact, she got pregnant. She wanted to keep the baby, but she couldn't raise her in a whorehouse. She really loved this guy for some reason that I can't quite fathom, especially since he convinced her to give the baby away." Her voice faltered, trying not to think there was any connection between this story and her own life. "Anyway, that's what she did. Someone found out and tried to blackmail both her and the councilman. That someone died in the fire that burned down her house, which supposedly killed her."

"But didn't."

"No, it was a setup. Her lover bought her this house, and she lived the rest of her life in seclusion. He used to come to her whenever he could. She loved him to the end, until he died. It was so sad. She lost her baby and she never really had him, not totally." Joanna ended her story with a sniff.

"You must cry at sappy movies," he said teasingly.

She made a face. "I do. Those telephone commercials really get to me, too. The ones where everyone has been separated over the years and they finally reunite. I just don't understand how Ruby Mae could have given up her child for that man. How could she love a man more than her baby?"

Michael glanced at his own children, protectively wrapped in Joanna's arms. "I don't know.  I could never give up my children.  But maybe Ruby Mae thought the child would be better off with someone else."

"Someone who wasn't her family? I don't understand that. Family is everything. My parents took such pride in our family, even though we were small, just the three of us. My father always told me to hold my head up high, because I was a Wingate. There was a lot of security in knowing who I was and taking pride in it." She paused. "Anyway, changing the subject ..."