Hanging by a Thread (34 page)

“And I could rent the top floor,” Jen says.

I'd sit down if there was someplace to sit. They've all gone mad. Mad, I tell you.

Dolly slips her arm around my waist. “It
would
be perfect, wouldn't it?”

“Perfectly insane! I mean, yes, it's great…” I look around, thoroughly annoyed with myself that I can already visualize what the place would look like fixed up. And I haven't even seen the upstairs yet. “But I can't possibly
buy
a building and go into business, just like that! And certainly not on this scale!”

“Well,” Jen says, “you certainly can't keep working out of our basement.”

“Especially since the city'll get on your case about having customers come to the house in a residential zone,” Frances says. “Besides, you can take out a second mortgage on the rental house to swing the down payment. If Dolly's investment won't cover it.”

My eyes swing to my grandmother. “Your what?”

“I've been thinking about this for a while,” she says, her mouth set in a fierce, don't-even-think-about-bucking-me line. “And I decided I want you and Jen to have the money your grandfather left to me. I didn't expect it, and I don't really need it. And I'd love to invest that money in your new business. With the stipulation that you make me the head of your workroom.”

“And,” Jen says, positively fizzing with excitement, “I'll throw a totally awesome launch party for you!”

This is surreal.

I sit down anyway, right on the tatty root beer slush-colored carpeting, trying not to think about what might be crawling around in there.

“And Jimmy and I talked it over,” Frances says, “and we wanna help, too. So our accountant and lawyer are yours until you start showing a profit.”

Tears crest in my eyes as Starr plops into my lap. “Why?” I say. “Why do you want to do this for me?”

Frances crouches in front of me, taking my hand. Her dark eyes bore into mine. “Because we love you, you nitwit. And we believe in you. Even if you don't.”

I burst into tears. Because I don't know what I've done to deserve having all these people love me this much, because I'm petrified to take such a huge risk and let everybody down.

Frances gets on her knees and takes me in her arms as Starr wraps hers around my neck, practically choking me. “What's the worst that can happen, huh?” Frances says, smoothing my hair out of my face.

“I screw u-up and l-lose everybody's money?”

She laughs. “We all know it's a risk, baby. We also have every confidence that if anybody can make this work, you can. And so what if it doesn't?” I pull a face. “No, really. What's the worst that can happen? You sell the building at a great profit, right? Far as I can tell, this is a total win-win situation.”

I blow my nose and look around through watery eyes. “Oh, God, Frances…I don't know…”

“Tell you what. If you want some time to think it over, put a bid on the place with a couple thou earnest money. By law, you've got forty-eight hours to withdraw your bid and get the money back.”

“A whole forty-eight hours, huh?”

“Trust me,” she says, getting to her feet. “It's plenty of time.”

Right.

I turn to find myself nose to nose with my daughter. “Okay, Twink—if I do this, it's likely to mean I'm going to be very, very busy. So be honest, here…would you really be okay with that?”

She shrugs. “What else are you gonna do while I'm at school all day, huh? I think you should go for it. Hey…” One skinny little finger pokes at my shoulder. “Life is short, right?”

The ladies all crack up as I pull this strange creature I gave birth to into my arms. Then I look up through Starr's cloud of hair at Frances. “Forty-eight hours, you say?”

“Yep.”

I sigh. “Okay. I'll think about it—”

But judging from the their reaction, I'm thinking nobody heard anything past
“I'll.”

I take a tour of the upstairs—the apartments are pretty typical over-the-shop types, but sunny and a nice size—and Frances assures me the building's in good shape, it was inspected a year ago and is in no danger of collapsing or anything. Reassuring, that. Afterwards, we all head back to Richmond Hill in Frances's Cadillac (told you she was doing well), dropping Dolly off at her place before taking the rest of us home. As we pull onto our block, she says, “I've got blank contracts at the house, I'll bring some by in a few, if that's okay,” only then she mutters “shit” under her breath so only I can hear, since I'm riding shotgun.

“What's wrong?” I whisper.

“On your front steps.”

I'm not sure what prompted
her
“shit,” but I sure as hell know what prompts mine.

After all, there's only one reason Luke would be here.

F
rances lets us out in front of our house, then backs up to pull into her garage. Starr lets out a squeal of glee and barrels into Luke's arms—I cannot tell you how many times she's asked these past couple of weeks when she was going to see him again. And I can tell, from the way he swings her up and holds on tight, burying his face in her hair, how much he's missed her, too. My throat constricts: no matter what's in that envelope I can now see clutched in his right hand, no matter what's happened between us, or why, none of that has anything to do with how much Starr loves him. And I can't—don't want to—believe Luke would let anything mess up how he feels about her, either. But then, I'm only the middleman, here. What do I know?

“Is this about what I think it's about?” Jen says in a low voice beside me.

“That would be my guess, yeah.”

“Oh, boy.”

Couldn't've said it better myself.

Luke sets Starr down and listens as she prattles on about the store Mama's gonna buy, until Jen takes her niece's hand and ushers her inside with promises of cookies. I half wish I could follow.

Especially when Luke's gaze swivels to me. “Mama's gonna buy a store?”

“Mama's
thinking
about
maybe
buying a store and
maybe
going into business. If I can fend off all the pushy broads in my life. Which includes your mother, by the way.”

One side of his mouth twitches. “My mother? Pushy?” Then he sobers. “You know you should do this.”

“I don't
know
anything. Except that just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach. It's not like I can just go blithely into this without thinking about anybody else—”

“Jesus, El—when are you gonna stop being so damn scared?”

“Scared? Of what?”

“Of goin' after what you want.”

My eyes burn, because maybe I didn't want to admit it, but Jen was right. My mother might have used Jen and me as an excuse not to pursue her career, but the fact was, she
was
scared of failing. And her fear was contagious, a fear I refused to acknowledge. Until now. “It's not that easy.”

“I know that,” he says softly. “But you gotta remember you got all these people behind you who're not gonna let you fall.” I look away; he angles his head so I have to look at him again. “Right?”

I let out a sigh. “I guess.”

“No guessin' about it. Look, all I'm saying is…whatever decision you make, make it because it's what you want to do. Not what you think you should do. Okay?”

After a moment, I nod. Then our gazes hang on to each other as we both remember why he's really here.

“Anyway,” he says. “I was about to leave a note. But then you got here, so I guess I won't—”

“Luke, for God's sake, just tell me already.”

His hand streaks through his hair, longer than it's been in ages. Then he looks at me…and shakes his head.

“N-no? You're not…?”

“Nope. I'm not.” He hands me the envelope. “See for yourself. Hundred percent accuracy for exclusion, they say.”

I sink onto the steps, staring at the report in my shaking hands, but not believing it. Then I start to laugh. The laugh of a lunatic.

“You know what this means? It means we've spent five years keeping a nonexistent secret. How screwed up is that?” He's sat down beside me, his hands linked between his knees. I look at him and say, “Why didn't we do this sooner, Luke? Why?”

“Beats me. Unless…”

“Unless?”

But he waves at the air, shaking his head. I decide I don't have the energy to pry out of him whatever he's thinking, so instead I glance again at the report, as if I expect to see something different this time. Of course, I don't. Which prompts me to say, “Well, at least you know you're off the hook now.”

“What do you mean?”

“About Starr.”

He frowns. “You can't be serious. You honestly think I'd turn my back on her just because of a stinkin' piece of paper? Ellie, I love that kid. I always have. And nothin's gonna change that.”

“Then why haven't you been around to see her these past weeks? Dammit, Luke—things have
already
changed.”

“No,” he says, his eyes burning into mine. “I know it might have seemed that way, while Tina and I were trying to hash out some stuff, but I swear to you, Ellie—nothing's changed.”

I bolt to my feet, muttering “Bullshit” as I storm up the stairs. Except he grabs my arm and pulls me back around.

“Christ—you think I'm still with Tina, don't you?”

“It doesn't matter what I think, it's none of my business—”

“Of course it's your business, you idiot. And I'm an idiot for assuming you knew what was going on.”

“Luke, the last thing out of your mouth was how Tina wanted to get back together —”

“That's right,” he says, letting go of my arm to hook his thumbs in his front pockets. “
She
wanted to get back together. Not me. I only agreed to go away with her so we could work out some stuff without everybody breathin' down our necks. But you thought that meant we'd patched things up.”

“I didn't know what it meant. But I know Tina.”

Oops.

One side of Luke's mouth hitches up. “Yeah. Me, too. But what you're forgetting is, I'm not the same guy I was five years ago. I'm a little better at spotting the traps these days. And if I can at all help it, I'm not gonna get caught.” He hooks one foot on the bottom step, leaning against the railing. “I got friendship and concern and sympathy confused with love once, but damned if I'm gonna let that happen again. Believe me, El,” he says, softly, “I will do everything in my power to avoid repeating my mistakes.”

Not that he's saying anything I don't already know, but still. Hope's a stubborn little cuss. Especially the breed that lives inside me.

“Just answer me one thing,” I say. “When you found out about the abortion…did that…influence your decision?”

He looks away, pushing out a breath before letting his gaze return to mine. “When Tina told me, I thought I'd die inside. I mean…for God's sake, El, it's not like I can just shove aside everything I've been raised to believe, you know? Especially…since it was my kid.” His shoulders hitch under his T-shirt. “I felt like somebody'd torn my guts out. Even though, the weird thing is, I actually kinda understood why she did what she did, because she was right—I would've tried to talk
her into having the baby. And that wouldn't've been fair to her. But to answer your question…no. It didn't influence my decision. That'd been made a long time ago. Not that I suppose Tina really believes that, but I can't help what she thinks.” A wry smile pulls at his mouth. “Took me a long time to figure that out.”

I sit back down on the step, not looking at him. “You don't hate me?”

He frowns slightly, but I don't have to explain any further. He knows exactly what I mean. After a second or two, he sits beside me again.

“I did, at first. I thought, Christ, why did I need to know this? But then I understood.”

“Did you?” I grimace. “
Do
you?”

“Enough,” he says, then gets quiet, staring out across the street at the flamingo. The bird's still doing his Uncle Sam impression, but at least he's standing up straight now. When Luke finally speaks again, his voice has gone so low, I can barely hear it. But I can feel the intensity of his words in every molecule of my being. “I still think sometimes there are good reasons for people to keep secrets from each other. But if that's
all
a relationship is based on, what's the point? I felt a lot more…betrayed because Tina didn't feel like she could be really open with me than I did because she'd had an abortion. That hurt, yeah, but the other…” He shakes his head. “That made me feel like shit. Especially since it wasn't like I couldn't tell something was wrong, anyway.”

“And here I thought men were supposed to be oblivious to those sorts of things.”

His eyes meet mine. Then he chuckles. “I'm not brain-dead, for chrisssake. Maybe I can't figure out
what's
wrong if somebody doesn't tell me, but I sure as hell can figure out
something's
wrong.” Then something shifts in his eyes, and I get the strangest feeling he's trying to see inside my brain. “Just
as I've always been able to tell when you're keeping something from me.”

Heat roars up my neck and across my cheeks.
You bet your tush I'm keeping something from you. And nuns will streak through Central Park naked before I tell you what—

“Ellie?”

My head jerks up. To see Alan. Who's pulled up in front of the house while Luke and I have been chatting. I glance at my watch and let out a yelp—I've totally spaced our date.

“Who's that?” Luke says as Alan gets out of the Lexus and beeps it locked.

“His name's…Alan,” I say quietly, as he approaches the steps, smiling broadly. I hope to hell Luke doesn't think it weird that I'm leaving off Alan's last name, but there are only so many things I can deal with right now. Alan's dressed practically the same as Luke, in T-shirt and jeans, but I can't deny there's something more…posh about him. I'm thinking it's the way he moves, with this casual grace that makes him look more as if he belongs in a menswear ad than on a street in Queens. So how come I'm not feeling a ripple of anticipation or excitement or lust or something? “We, um, kinda have a date.”

“Really?” Luke says. “You should've said something, I wouldn't've kept you.”

I only have half a second to glance at Luke, but his expression isn't giving anything away. So I make brief introductions, holding my breath that nobody says anything to make this meeting any more awkward than it already is. But either Alan's forgotten Luke's name, or he's being discreet. As for Luke…

As for Luke, all he does is clamp a hand on my shoulder and say, “Gotta run. You have a good time, okay?” Then to Alan, “Nice meeting you,” and he's gone.

And there go my emotions, trotting along right behind him like a flock of dumb sheep.

And dumb sheep aren't real good about coming back when you call.

“Seems like a decent enough chap,” Alan says, then smiles at me. “Are you ready, then?”

Or, maybe if I just go off in another direction, the sheep will eventually realize they're wasting their time and come looking for me again.

One can hope.

I look up at Alan and smile. “Sure. Let me just go say bye to Starr and freshen up a bit.”

Five minutes later, we're pulling away from the curb when I see Frances hustling out of her house with a folder full of papers. Which is when I remember she was coming over about the store.

And which is when I realize she could have come over anytime while Luke was here. But she didn't.

Hmmm.

 

“Did I interrupt something?” Alan asks as we pull into traffic. I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Interrupt something?”

His eyes veer to mine, a small smile playing around his mouth. “You got the results back, didn't you?”

Honest to God, my brain is like a sieve today. Talk to Luke, forget about Alan. Talk to Alan, forget why Luke came over to begin with. At this rate, I'm going to forget to put underwear on when I get up in the morning.

“Yeah, we did.”

“And…?”

“Luke's not the father,” I say softly, unable to wipe Luke's disappointed face from my brain. “Daniel is.”

For a second or two, my words don't seem to register. Then Alan lets out a whoop and bangs his hand on the steering
wheel. “A-
ha!
I
knew
it! I knew she was my niece from the moment I realized who you were!”

“It would appear so.”

The man is grinning from ear to ear, as though I'd just announced she was
his
child. “But this is bloody marvelous, Ellie! I'm absolutely delighted.”

“I can see that,” I say, trying to muster at least a little reciprocal enthusiasm. But it ain't working.

“Ellie? Is anything wrong?”

I turn to face him, leaning heavily against the headrest. I suppose I should at least try to be diplomatic, but I'm too tired. “Other than the fact that I now have to figure out how, or if, to tell my daughter about her father? I mean, how the hell can I be objective about this? Or do I even want to? Your brother was a liar and a cheat, Alan. Kinda hard to couch those qualities in a flattering light.”

Since the first part of that description fits me, too…all I can say is
Ouch.

After a moment he says, “I can see your dilemma.”

I sincerely doubt that. But I smile, a little, and say, “Thanks.”

His eyes dart to mine, then back on the traffic. I must say, for a non-New Yorker, he gives the taxi drivers a pretty decent run for their money.

“But my guess is you're more upset that Luke's
not
the father, aren't you?”

I blink rapidly. “It sure would've made things easier.”

“Would it?”

I sigh. “Okay, no, I suppose not. Not at first, anyway. But at least Luke and Starr are already bonded. He's always been there for her, and she's always been crazy about him. She would've been thrilled to find out he's her dad. Not that he's going to turn his back on her or anything now, but…” I shrug, fighting back tears. “It just would've been easier,” I repeat softly.

We drive for a good couple of minutes before Alan says, “I'm going to say a few things that I'd actually planned on saving for later, after we'd gotten to know each other a little better. And after I knew for sure that Starr was my niece. But since I imagine I already know what your answer would be, I guess there's not much point in waiting.”