Amazing Gracie Page 18

  He sat straight up and stared. “Excuse me?”

  “Babies,” his aunt repeated emphatically, returning his startled gaze with a touch of defiance.

  “What about them?” he asked cautiously.

  “It’s time you had some, if you intend to. I have to say I wouldn’t mind seeing some toddlers scrambling around this dreary old mausoleum of yours. Molly feels the same way. We want some kids around before we’re too ancient to enjoy them.”

  “Is this another way of reminding me that you’re bored and that I owe you a trip to Fredericksburg to see a movie?”

  “No, it’s another way of reminding you that Molly and I aren’t the only ones who are going to be too old to keep up with a toddler if you don’t hurry up and get started.”

  He lay back down. “Okay, okay. I’ll take it under advisement.”

  “Which means you’ll forget about it, the minute you get me to shut up, I suppose.”

  “You suppose right.”

  His aunt sighed. “Then I guess it’s up to me, after all,” she murmured.

  The enigmatic remark was more alarming than a shrilling smoke detector. Kevin shot up so fast, he almost rolled himself right out of the hammock.

  “What was that?” he demanded. “What do you mean it’s up to you? What’s up to you?”

  She gave him a vague wave, but no response.

  “Well, hell,” he muttered.

  He had the sinking feeling he’d just made a very serious tactical blunder, but short of locking his aunt in her room or hiring a bodyguard to tail her and notify him if she came within a hundred yards of Gracie, he couldn’t think of a single way to keep her out of mischief. Something told him his dear aunt Delia could wind up being more trouble that Bobby Ray, Helen, and the rest of them all rolled into one.

  16

  “Uncle Kevin, could you come and get me?” Abby asked, sounding more plaintive than frightened.

  The phone call from his niece had prevented Kevin from sitting his aunt down for a nice, long, firm lecture about staying the hell out of his relationship with Gracie. Delia had drifted off toward the kitchen, no doubt to conspire with his housekeeper. He sighed and turned his attention to this latest crisis.

  “Where are you, angel?”

  “At Daddy’s, except he’s not home and Sara Lynn doesn’t like me being here when Daddy’s not here. I guess I cramp her style or something.” She sounded world-weary when she said it, as if she’d been hustled out of the way one too many times.

  Kevin gritted his teeth. Part of his deal with Bobby Ray for that investment money had been that he’d pay more attention to his daughter. He should have known Bobby Ray’s promises weren’t worth a hill of beans.

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he told Abby. “Tell Sara Lynn not to budge. I want to have a little chat with her when I get there.”

  “Not because of me, Uncle Kevin, please.”

  “It’s okay, Abby. We won’t argue.” In fact, he didn’t intend to let the woman get a word in. He’d be doing all the talking and she’d damn well better listen. “Bye, angel. I’m on my way. I’ll see you soon.”

  Spurred on by his anger, he made the drive in ten minutes, a sheriff’s deputy on his tail the whole way. When he turned off Route 3, the deputy followed and Kevin pulled to the side of the road. Prematurely gray-haired Otis Fowler ambled up to his car, thankfully without his citation book.

  “Where’s the fire, Kevin? Problems at Bobby Ray’s again?”

  “Not yet,” Kevin told him grimly. He was all too aware that the sheriff’s department had responded fairly regularly to domestic disputes at the house. According to the neighbors, Bobby Ray and Sara Lynn settled their disagreements at a volume a rock band would have envied.

  “Then slow down,” Otis warned. “You’re setting a bad example for the other citizens.”

  “Sorry. Abby called and I was anxious to get over here and pick her up.”

  “She there by herself again?”

  Kevin stared at him, startled by the direction of his guesswork. “Next best thing. She’s with Sara Lynn. But how do you know she’s been there by herself?”

  “My girl’s in her class at school. Abby’s mentioned it a time or two when she’s been over to the house. I’ve warned Bobby Ray that the girl has no business being left alone. I try to keep a lookout when I’m in the area, but I’m not always on this shift.”

  He shook his head, his expression sorrowful. “This ain’t like the old days, when a kid was safe to play outdoors without a parent watching over him,” he lamented. “Often as not in those days if one parent wasn’t home in the area, another one was and everyone looked out for everyone else’s kids. Now, just look at those kids killed up near Fredericksburg the last couple of years, all of ’em taken from their own front yards. We haven’t had problems like that, but Spotsylvania County’s not so far away that we can lose sight of the possibility. No sense tempting fate.”

  “I’ll see to it that it doesn’t happen again,” Kevin assured him.

  “Abby’s a cute kid. Smart, too. Why do you suppose Bobby Ray can’t appreciate that?”

  “I wish I knew, Otis. I wish I knew.”

  When he got to Bobby Ray’s, Abby was sitting on the porch, her nose stuck in a book. The child did love to read, probably because fictional worlds were a whole lot less complicated than the real-life world she lived in. He stopped by and ruffled her hair.

  “Good book?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, barely sparing him a glance.

  “Sara Lynn inside?”

  “I guess.”

  “Okay, let me talk to her and then we’ll get out of here and do something fun, okay?”

  She nodded. Something about her response troubled him. She’d been pretty anxious for him to come and get her. Now it seemed his arrival didn’t matter one way or the other.

  “Abby?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Look at me.”

  She finally glanced up and he spotted the tears shimmering in her eyes. A lump formed in his throat. Hunkering down in front of her, he took her hands.

  “Okay, baby, what’s wrong?”

  “I told you Sara Lynn was going to get mad if I told her you wanted to talk to her,” she said, swiping angrily at a tear.

  “What did she do?” Kevin asked, his tone deadly.

  “Nothing. I swear it, Uncle Kevin.”

  “I know better. What did she say to you?”

  Abby heaved a sigh. “She told me if I was going to be such a tattletale, she was going to see to it that Daddy never spent another second with me.” She regarded Kevin anxiously. “She can’t do that, can she, Uncle Kevin?”

  “No,” he said tersely. “She can’t do that. You sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

  He found Sara Lynn upstairs sitting in front of her dressing-table mirror applying makeup. Dressed—barely—in a silk-and-lace dressing gown, she looked as if she were getting ready for a night on the town. He’d never much liked her, but at this moment he was angry enough to start smashing all the pretty little crystal bottles in front of her. Losing her expensive French perfumes—paid for with Abby’s child support money, no doubt—might get her attention.

  “How dare you threaten Abby?” he said, barely containing his fury. “She’s a kid, Sara Lynn. If you have a problem with me, you yell at me. If you have a problem with your marriage, you deal with Bobby Ray. You don’t take it out on Abby.”

  She didn’t turn, just glanced up at his reflection in the mirror. “Nice to see you, too, Kevin.”

  “Don’t waste your sarcasm on me. I know your kind, Sara Lynn.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “And what kind would that be?”

  “You’re trash. You’re a user. You married Bobby Ray because you thought he had money. It’s galled you ever since that I control how much he has to throw around.”

  She turned around then and gave him a tight smile. “Well, well, well, I guess the gloves are finally off.”


  “You bet they’re off. If I ever hear that you’ve threatened Abby again or that you’ve been anything other than kind to her, the money around here will dry up faster than you can blink. See how many lovers come sniffing around you then.”

  She paled. “You can’t do that.”

  “Watch me.”

  Downstairs, he paused in the kitchen to let his temper cool before going back onto the porch to get Abby. Outside, he forced a smile. “Ready to go, angel?”

  She regarded him seriously, but he noticed that there were no more tears.

  “Is Sara Lynn still mad?”

  “I suspect so,” he admitted. “But at me, sweetpea, not at you.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”

  “Yes, you should have. That’s our deal, remember. You can call me anytime.” He draped an arm around her shoulder and led her to the car and helped her in. “Now, then, what would you like to do?”

  She hesitated, then flashed him a bright smile. “Can we go to the old house? We haven’t been there yet this summer.”

  “You want to go to Aunt Delia’s? Why?” He grinned. “You hoping I’ll put you to work so you can earn some summer spending money?”

  “That, too,” she admitted with a grin. “But mostly I just like it there. Mama takes me there sometimes, too. We sit on the porch and watch the water. Mama asked and Aunt Delia said it was okay.”

  “Of course it’s okay. I’m just surprised.”

  “I like to watch the water, Uncle Kevin.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It’s always there, no matter what.”

  “Not like people, huh?”

  Abby sighed. “Yeah, not like people.”

  It was funny, he thought now. He’d always felt that way about Aunt Delia’s place himself. Years ago, his father had spent more time in Richmond than he had at home. When his father was around, there were always aunts and uncles and cousins in and out of his house asking for help with one crisis or another. The help had always been given, but usually not without a lot of shouting. After his mother died, Kevin had taken refuge at Aunt Delia’s whenever Molly or his father would agree to take him.

  Maybe that was why he was so opposed to Gracie’s plan, he thought, startled by the unexpected insight. Maybe he just didn’t want to think of that peaceful, serene house turned upside down by strangers. Maybe he was being totally selfish in trying to keep it for himself, when the odds of him ever living there were practically nonexistent. For some reason, though, he just liked knowing it was there, available, as steady and dependable as the flowing of the Potomac.

  Then again, he thought wryly, maybe he just liked making Gracie a little crazy with his stubborn refusal to take her offers seriously. That had provided him with a whole month or more of pure entertainment.

  “Why are you grinning, Uncle Kevin?”

  “Just thinking about something.”

  “That lady, I’ll bet.”

  He stared at her. “Which lady?”

  “The one Daddy says you like, the one who wants to buy Aunt Delia’s house. He called the house last night and told me about her. You know what else?”

  “What?”

  “He and Mama talked for a long time, too. They hardly ever do that. Do you think it means anything?”

  Kevin doubted it. “I don’t know, sweetpea.”

  “I was just thinking it would be nice if they got back together,” she said wistfully.

  “Every kid whose parents are divorced wishes that,” Kevin told her. “Sometimes it’s for the best if they don’t, though.”

  “I guess.” She grinned. “So tell me about you and this lady. Is she pretty?”

  “You’re entirely too nosy for a kid,” he told her.

  “Which means I should stop asking questions, right, ’cause I’m making you nervous?” she said, nodding sagely. “Can I meet her?”

  “One of these days, I suppose.”

  “Why not today?” Abby prodded. “I’ll bet she’d like to come to Aunt Delia’s with us.”

  “I’m sure she would.”

  “Daddy said you caught her sneaking into the house one day. Is that true?”

  “Actually she was sneaking out,” he said, recalling the fascinating view.

  “She sounds really cool. Can we get her, please?”

  “Sure, why not,” Kevin said eventually, making the turn that would take them to Gracie’s. He braked to a stop, tilted Abby’s chin up and looked directly into her eyes. “But you are not to mention that the house belongs to Aunt Delia, okay?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I said so.”

  “Isn’t that like a giant fib or something?”

  “It’s not a fib,” Kevin declared. “It’s an omission.”

  “Who does she think owns the house?”

  “I haven’t told her.”

  “Why not?”

  “You ask entirely too many questions.”

  “Don’t you know why?”

  “Because I don’t want to, that’s why.”

  “You’re weird, Uncle Kevin. You know that, don’t you?”

  “That’s a fine thing to say to your favorite uncle.”

  “It’s okay,” Abby reassured him. “I love you, anyway.”

  He grinned. “Thanks, squirt. I love you, too.” He shut off the engine, then tilted his head and pretended to study her. “Even if you do have freckles on your nose.”

  “Do not,” she protested, instantly covering her nose.

  “Do, too.”

  “You’re teasing.”

  “Ask Gracie, if you don’t believe me,” he suggested as he led Abby around to Gracie’s backyard. For once, he opted for a little formality and actually knocked before stepping into the kitchen. “Anybody home?”

  When Gracie didn’t answer, Abby said, “I’ll bet she’s at Mrs. Johnson’s.”

  Kevin peered at her intently. “Exactly where are you getting all your information about Gracie’s habits?”

  “Never mind. I have my sources,” she said, giving him a superior little smile. “Wanna bet that’s where she is?”

  “No, I do not want to bet,” Kevin retorted. “If we hurry, though, she might have some muffins ready.”

  “Blueberry, I’ll bet. Just for you.”

  Sure enough, they found Gracie in Mrs. Johnson’s kitchen and there were scones, not muffins, just out of the oven. Chocolate pecan, this time. Kevin could smell the melting chocolate before he ever stepped inside.

  “Told you he’d be here,” Mrs. Johnson said with satisfaction.

  Kevin grinned at Gracie. “Were you worried I wouldn’t show up, darlin?”

  “Afraid you would,” Gracie contradicted, then focused her attention on Abby. “You must be Kevin’s cousin.”

  “I’m Abby.”

  “And I’m Gracie. It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Probably next to nothing compared to what she’s heard about you,” Kevin muttered.

  Abby shot him a grin. “I heard that, Uncle Kevin.”

  He tugged on her pigtail. “I’ll bet if you ask Gracie nicely, she’ll let you try a scone.”

  “You never ask nicely,” Gracie pointed out. “You just grab.”

  “That’s because I don’t want to take the chance you’ll turn me down.”

  “As if she would,” Mrs. Johnson said. “All of you, take the scones and run along. I’ve got things to do.”

  Kevin regarded her closely. “Such as reporting in to Aunt Delia?”

  “What I do with my time is none of your concern, young man. Now, scoot.” She smiled at Abby. “You’re growing up too fast, young lady. Another inch at least since the last time I saw you.”

  “I’m almost as tall as Mama now,” Abby said proudly.

  “Well, you tell your mama hello for me. Stop by next time you all come over to sit on that porch next door.”

  Kevin noted Gracie’s startled look at Mrs. Johnson’s reference to the
front porch of the Victorian. As soon as they were outside, Gracie asked casually, “Do you and your mom come over here often?”

  “Lots in the summertime,” Abby said. “We don’t live by the water. Sometimes we sit here until the moon comes up, especially the full moon. It’s totally awesome the way it shines on the water.”

  “Yes, it is,” Gracie agreed.

  Kevin could practically see the wheels turning in that brain of hers. He wondered how long it was going to take before she began adding up two and two.

  No sooner had they walked up the front steps at Aunt Delia’s than Abby asked, “Can I cut the grass, Uncle Kevin? You let it go too long again. There’s probably snakes and all sorts of other critters hiding in it.”

  “Including baby bunnies,” he retorted slyly. “You want to scare them to death?”

  “That’s what you always say,” she chided. “The bunnies run away, you know they do. And they come right back the minute the clover pops up.”

  Letting Abby cut the grass solved several problems. It kept her away from Gracie, minimizing the risk that she would let something slip. Just as important, it would get Gracie off his back about the out-of-control lawn. He reached in his pocket and took out the key to the toolshed in back.

  “Be careful now,” he instructed. “You might have been joking about those snakes, but you never know when you might stumble across one.”

  “Snakes?” Gracie said, staring at him with wide eyes, even as Abby dashed off. She unconsciously drew her feet up onto the bottom step, out of the way of any slithering creatures that might be in the vicinity.

  Abby might have been totally unintimidated by his warning, but Gracie clearly was scared to death.

  “You’re not going to let that child cut grass when she might run across a snake,” she protested.

  “It probably won’t be a big one,” he said, enjoying her reaction.

  “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Cutting the grass is supposed to be your job.”

  “Nobody said I had to do it myself. Abby likes doing it.”

  “Which suits your purposes just fine, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure. It means I get to sit on the porch all alone with you. Can’t get a better deal than that.”

  She remained silent for several minutes, pondering that and idly eating one of her scones. “How often do you get Abby to cut the grass for you?” she asked eventually.