Night Fever (35 page)

B
ecky always thought secretly that the most boring part of court was the judge's instructions to the jury. They were incomprehensible, they took forever, and with an impatient toddler on one's lap, they tended to become irritating.

She glanced beside her at Todd, who was eight now and very well behaved. He watched his father with awe, because this was the first time he'd been allowed to hear a summation. Really, she thought, it was the first time he'd been mature enough to sit through one. A bright boy, he had the impulsive and impatient nature that Becky shared with Rourke. Not surprising that Todd had inherited those traits. Little Teresa, squirming in her mother's lap, seemed bent on the same course as well.

Next to Todd, Clay and Francine were sitting close together. They had no children yet. They had only been married for two years. Clay was in line for a promotion at the grocery store where he was assistant produce manager, and Francine was almost finished with her beautician's training.

Mack, sitting next to Clay, was half a head taller than his brother. He was in his first year of law school at the University of Georgia, following in his adored brother-in-law's footsteps. Becky was so proud of him that she could have exploded. He and Rourke were very close, which made things so much easier at home.

Granddad was in a nursing home. He was lucid some days, and hardly aware of them others. They all went to see him regularly, and it made the pain of separation bearable. He was too feeble to stay at home without round-the-clock nursing, and the home had been his idea in the beginning. Two of his war buddies were there, and until the past year, he'd enjoyed himself. Now, it was a matter of time. Old seed going into the ground to make way for new, winter taking away the remnants of the old to clear room for the young growth. Life, in other words, in all its fierce beauty and stark routine. All things went to the soil eventually. It was the way of life.

Rourke had explained it to Todd the other night. “We come from seed,” he told his son, smiling. “We grow up, blossom, and produce fruit. Then the fruit dries and goes into the ground to make the next crop. The old plant doesn't die so much as it gives itself to the soil to nurture the new plant. Since energy is neither created nor destroyed, only altered, dying is the other face on the coin of life. Nothing to be afraid of, really. After all, my boy, we all pass from this plane into another. It's inevitable, like the rainbow after the storm.”

“That sounds nice,” Todd had said. “Will Granddad be a rainbow?”

“I expect,” Rourke had said solemnly, “that he will be the most splendid rainbow of all.”

Looking down at Todd, Becky was grateful for her husband's way with words. The boy's face was without the strain it had held since they had been told that Granddad didn't have much longer. She smiled. It made things easier for her, too. Rourke probably knew it. He was such a sensitive man—he almost read her mind sometimes.

The jury was finally sequestered in the jury room and court was adjourned until a verdict was reached. Rourke picked up his case, shook hands with a grinning J. Lincoln Davis, and joined his family.

“Their godfather wants us over for supper tonight,” he said as he kissed her, very gently. “He and Maggie have an announcement to make.”

“She's pregnant,” Becky whispered into his ear. She laughed at his expression. “Incredible, isn't it? She's shocked and delighted and scared to death. But they both want it, so much.”

“She'll be all right. Davis will make sure of it,” he chuckled. “All right, gang, who's for hamburgers?” he asked the family.

“Cheeseburgers for me,” Mack said, almost trampling his brother on his way out. “Look, why didn't you object when Mr. Davis introduced that old deed? I'm sure you could have said…”

“God deliver us from law students,” Rourke muttered with a hard glare. “Two months at the university, and you're F. Lee Bailey!”

“Three months,” Mack corrected. “And I have a very good professor. Now, about that deed…”

“Francine and I have to rush back to the store,” Clay said hurriedly. He squeezed Francine's hand. “Don't we, honey?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Francine stammered. “I'll call you later, Becky!” she added as she was dragged away.

“Craven cowards,” Mack muttered, glaring after them. “No stomach for dissertation, huh?”

“We're having dissertation right after the barbecue,” Clay called back through a cupped hand at his mouth. “Apple pie!”

“Do you believe this?” Mack threw up his hands as they vanished into the crowd. “My own brother thinks a dissertation is something you have with coffee!”

“Not everyone has your fervor for the law, old son,” J. Davis chuckled as he joined them. He clapped Mack on the back. “How's it going?”

“Great! I'm making straight A's, so far!” he said.

“You'd better, after all the time Rourke and I have put in on you,” he replied. “I want to talk to you about that Lindsey case,” he told Rourke seriously. “We may be able to work something out.”

“Not at lunch,” Becky wailed, shifting Teresa while Todd roughhoused with Mack.

Davis glanced at the squirming child and chuckled. He held out his arms and Teresa went laughing into them.

“You're spoiling her,” Becky accused when he produced a lollipop.

“Be quiet,” Rourke said sternly. “Don't offend him until
after
I've got my plea-bargain.”

“Oh.” Becky clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

“Let's eat, can't we?” Mack groaned. “I'm starving!”

“When aren't you?” Rourke chuckled. “Okay. Todd, stop practicing karate kicks on your uncle.”

“I learned this watching
The Karate Kid,
” Todd protested, demonstrating a high kick. “It's great.”

“Go and watch
Batman,
” Mack advised. “You can learn how to fly.”

“Buy me a Batcape and I'll give it my best shot,” Todd promised. “Mom, can I have a milk shake with lunch? Why don't we go to a restaurant? I'm tired of hamburgers. Look, isn't that Big Bob Houser, the wrestling champ?” He pointed at a huge man in the distance.

Todd and Mack were arguing about the identity of the huge man, while J. Lincoln Davis spoke in an odd language to little Teresa as the crowd closed around them on their way into the corridor.

Becky moved to Rourke's side and pressed close into his shoulder. He looked down at her, his dark eyes possessive and full of soft, sweet memories. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

“You can't,” she whispered, laughing.

“Yes, I can,” he whispered back, bending.

And he did.

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