EXCERPT:
CHAPTER ONE
The cold September rain, whipped up by the west wind, felt like sharp pinpricks against Cory Martin’s cheeks. His short, dark brown hair was soaked and lay flat against his head. The rain dripped down the back of the upturned collar of his sport coat. Why didn’t I grab my raincoat instead, he thought to himself. But the weatherman said there was only a “slight chance of rain.”
“A slight chance,” he muttered. There was a sudden flash in his mind, a memory of his growing up in Oregon and getting caught in the rain on his way home from school. There a slight chance of rain meant rain, but not here, not in sunny southern California. He shook his head and pressed on across the parking lot toward the awning beneath the red and green neon sign.
“Good afternoon, Mister Martin,” greeted the smiling hostess. Her white blouse and black slacks were a definite improvement over her previous uniform. The old white dresses looked too clinical for an Italian restaurant, he thought. “Here, let me help you with that,” she offered as she took his jacket. “Oh my, you’re soaked clear through.”
“Thank you, Jane.” Cory nodded, pulling his wet shirt away from his skin. “I’m okay. Is she here yet?”
Jane nodded as she turned around and hung his coat up on the rack behind the hostess’ podium. “Yes, sir.”
Cory’s entire body stiffened instantly. He turned sharply and glared at Jane as his anger flashed. “Don’t ever call me that again! I’m nothing like him!” he snapped, his voice sounding uncharacteristically harsh and raspy.
“I-I’m sorry,” Jane apologized, taking a step back, bumping into the coat rack. In the many years that Cory had been coming to Antonio’s, she had never seen this side of him. Cautiously she handed him a dry hand towel, not sure if that would offend him too.
Just as quickly as his anger flared, it vanished, replaced by feelings of guilt. Jane had never been anything but nice to him. She didn’t deserve to be yelled at. He lowered his head.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Jane.” he apologized. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just a bit edgy today.” Cory took the towel and wiped his face and neck, then his hands. “So, how do I look?”
“You look fine, Mister Martin.” Jane nodded with a smile. “Miss Griswold is waiting for you at table eight.”
“Thank you,” he nodded and he handed her back the towel.
The restaurant was unusually empty. The weather is probably the reason, Cory thought as he made his way around the dining room. Suddenly a feeling of overwhelming nervousness engulfed him as he spotted Katherine. His stomach tightened. His hands began to tremble. He rubbed them together in an effort to hide it.
Katherine was seated at their usual table in the back, under the large picture window overlooking the Pacific. Her long auburn hair, tied back in a ponytail by the cream-colored silk scarf he had given her for her birthday, fell in soft curls down to her shoulders. As he neared their table, he could smell the sweet scent of her perfume. His nervousness grew.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he walked up behind her. He bent down and put his arms around her, kissing her check.
“Cory!” she gasped and pulled away from him. “You’re soaking wet!” She laughed as she wiped her cheek. “Yuck!”
Cory released his hold on her and slipped into his chair. He quickly took the cloth napkin from the table and opened it over his lap.
“Oh my god,” Katherine gasped as she noticed the dark circles under Cory’s brown eyes, his sunken cheeks and his sudden weight loss. It had been nearly two months since she saw him last. “Cory, you look awful.”
Cory looked at his fiancé, at her beautiful, brown eyes. He looked away.
“Cory, you look like hell. What’s the matter?” she asked, reaching across the table and placing her hand tenderly on top of his.
Cory shook his head. “It’s nothing, really. I just haven’t been sleeping very well lately.”
“It’s that deadline, isn’t it?” Katherine snapped. “You have to tell that agent of yours, ‘Creativity can’t be rushed.’ Honestly, I don’t know why you put up with him.”
“No,” Cory shook his head. “Jackson’s fine. He’s under pressure too from the publishers. But that’s not it.”
“Then what is it, honey? Tell me. We can face whatever it is together.”
Cory looked down at the sparkling diamond engagement ring on Katherine’s hand as it rested on his. His stomach tightened more. How could he have allowed things to get so out of control? If there was one thing he was good at, he told himself, it was keeping his life in order, scripted like a made-for-TV movie with him directing every detail, every emotion, every camera angle. Now, though, everything was crashing down all around him. He looked into Katherine’s eyes. How could he tell her? How could he spare her the pain and hurt?
“Kathy,” he spoke softly. He could feel a lump growing in his throat, closing it off. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe. His eyes began to tear. “I have to go away,” he said, almost inaudibly.
Katherine pulled her hand away, her look of concern replaced by one of confusion. She glanced around the dining room as though looking for help to understand.
“Wha-what do you mean, g-go away? We’re getting married,” she said, as if reminding him. She began to nervously fumble with her ring.
“I-I,” the words were getting stuck in his throat. “I just have to.”
“I don’t understand,” Katherine said, shaking her head. Her eyes teared up as a feeling of panic began to fill her. “We’re getting mar-”
“Kathy,” Cory interrupted her. “You are my best and my dearest friend. I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe that. I do love you,” he said as he looked into her tear filled eyes. “But I can’t marry you.”
The already quiet room became even more deafeningly quiet. As though everything was suddenly thrust into slow motion, he watched Katherine’s beautiful face as the words entered her ears and slowly registered in her brain and then her heart. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but the words never came. Tears began to stream down her cheeks but she could not divert her eyes from him.
“I’m sorry,” Cory apologized softly.
“B-b-but why?” Katherine choked and cried. She began to tremble as she continued tugging at the ring. “What have I done?”
“It’s not you,” said Cory gently, knowing it sounded so cliché but not knowing what else to say. He reached for her hands, but she pulled them away as she continued to fight with the ring.
“Damn it!” she cursed. The ring would not budge from her finger.
“It’s me,” Cory continued. “There are things about me that you don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“What things?” Katherine asked. “What?”
Cory shook his head. “I’m sorry. I-I just can’t. Not now.”
He stood up and quickly rushed out of the restaurant, pausing only long enough to grab his wet sport coat from the coat rack on the way out.
Suddenly Katherine stopped struggling with the ring on her finger. She sat frozen in shock. Slowly she turned her head and looked out at the waves of the ocean as her mind churned with unanswered questions.
CHAPTER TWO
The clock on the old, red brick fireplace mantle struck nine. Pamela Martin looked up from her leather, wingback chair. She looked about the living room, her gaze landing on this thing, then that, not focusing on anything for too long. Awkwardly, she leaned forward, setting her glass of ice water down on the cherry wood, coffee table in front of her. Though she was only six months pregnant, she felt huge.
“Where is he?” she moaned as she rose to her feet. She ran a nervous hand through her long, brown, wavy hair. “Honestly,” she sighed in disgust as she walked over to the window.
“Pam, honey, don’t worry yourself. He’ll be here soon,” Connie, her sister-in-law, tried to reassure her. Connie turned around as she sat on the sofa next to her husband, Mark, keeping her eyes on Pamela.
“But he’s been gone for over two hours!” Pamela snapped. “He only went to the store for a quart of ice cream.” She gently drew back the sheer lace curtain, peering into the darkened street. “I knew I should’ve picked it up myself. I knew he’d forget to do it on his way home.”
“He probably ran into someone he knows,” Mark said, trying to calm her. “You know how he loves to visit.”
Pamela didn’t answer. She turned away from the window, wringing her hands as she began to pace.
“Pam, honey,” Connie stood up from the sofa and went to her sister-in-law. “Please, try not to worry yourself. It’s not good for you or the baby. I know my little brother and if there’s one thing about him, he loves to gab. He’ll be back soon. Please, come, sit back down and try to relax.”
“I guess you’re right,” Pamela agreed. She walked back over to her chair and sat down. Connie returned to the sofa and took her seat again.
“I just get so frustrated with him sometimes.” Pamela shook her head as she began to explain. “He knows that we always get together every year on Cory’s birthday and still he manages to be late. I don’t know how many times I reminded him what day it is today and to pick up the ice cream on his way home. I tell you, between this pregnancy and him, I think I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Well, you only have three more months to go.” Connie smiled. “And then at least one of your problems will be solved.”
Pamela smiled. “True,” she said, nodding in affirmation as she sat back and wrapped her arms around her belly. “I have to tell you, I can’t wait to actually hold this little one in my arms.”
“I know what you mean,” Connie said, smiling as she glanced at her husband, Mark. A warm feeling rushed through her as she looked at his strong chin, tussled blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. “When I was pregnant with little Byron, I couldn’t wait until he was born. I was so sick and so miserable the whole time. After he was born it took me months before I could fit into my regular clothes again.”
“Well, not all of the weight gain was a bad thing,” Mark said with a nasty grin.
“You men are all alike!” Connie sneered and shook her head, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “Believe me, these are not all they’re cracked up to be. You try packing them around all of the time,” she said, looking down at her full breasts.
“With pleasure,” Mark laughed and reached for her chest.
“Oh stop it!” Connie laughed and slapped his hands away. “Men can be so crude!”
“Where can he be?” Pamela looked passed Connie and Mark at the living room window again. She wasn’t really listening to them. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she had. Kyle had been late before, but never this late and never had she felt the way she did. Perhaps it’s just because of the day, she told herself. You’re just being superstitious. She shook her head again, trying to erase her thoughts.
“He’ll be here soon, Pam,” Mark assured her as he took a sip of his coffee. “Hey, have you and Kyle decided when you’re going to tell his dad about this?”
“Mark!” Connie gasped.
Mark looked at his wife, at her wide-eyed look of shock and indignation. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, as though to say he was only trying to change the subject.
“It’s okay, Connie,” Pamela nodded. “Kyle and I have discussed it and he doesn’t ever want to tell Jack about the baby. With the way Jack drinks and how he’s treated all of us and especially Cory over the years, the baby doesn’t need to be subjected to that.”
“But Pam,” Connie protested. “Dad and Stella only live across town. Forest Grove isn’t that big. People will talk. He’s bound to find out sooner or later.”
“That’s true,” Mark concurred. “It's not like we live in Portland. Stella has her spies. Trust me, he will find out.”
“I know,” Pamela said. She looked at the warm fire crackling in the fireplace and then back at the two of them. “Kyle and I have talked about that, too,” she said. She and Kyle had planned to tell them later, when they knew more, but… “It’s not a definite yet, but Kyle is looking into a job in Seattle with King County.”
“No!” Connie gasped and nearly jumped off the sofa as she sat forward. “You can’t leave. Not when Cory is finally moving back. No, Pam,” Connie pleaded.
“It’s not definite,” Pamela repeated. “We’re just thinking about it.” She shook her head. “Why does everything have to be so complicated? And where is your brother?” Pamela snapped. She stood up and began to pace again.
“He will be here,” Connie said, trying to reassure her. “So, have you two decided on any names for the baby?”
Pamela stopped pacing for a moment, putting one hand on her round stomach and the other on the back of her chair. “I’d like to name the baby after Kyle if it’s a boy, but Kyle wants to name him Graham after my father.”
“Oh no!” Connie gasped and shook her head. “You can’t let him do that. You know how utterly horrible kids can be. They would tease him mercilessly. ‘Graham cracker, Graham cracker,’” she chanted in a high pitched, childlike voice.
“Yes,” agreed Pamela laughed with a nod. “I know.”
“Well, I’m with you. Kyle Junior would be a much better name.”
“That is if it’s a boy,” Pamela interrupted. “If it’s a girl, we are naming her after your mother and mine, Emily Rose.”
Connie smiled.
“Wait a minute,” Mark spoke up. “You mean to tell us that you and Kyle don’t know what you're having?” He gave her a curious look.
“I know it seems old fashioned, but there are too few real surprises in life.” Pamela explained and smiled. “We told the doctors that we don’t want to know.”
“I don’t care either way,” Connie said, beaming. “Boy or girl, I’m going to be an aunt! Aunt Connie,” she smiled.
Just then, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke the moment of silence. Pamela jumped in surprise.
“Well, it’s about time!” she said indignantly.
“See, we told you he’d be home soon.” Mark said as he looked over his shoulder at the window.
“I’ll go warm up the pie.” Pamela said as she quickly disappeared into the kitchen.
“Boy is Kyle gonna catch it when he walks in,” Connie whispered to Mark.
“Just remember, dear,” he said quietly as he took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Stay out of it. It’s between them.”
“Oh, I will,” Connie reassured him, pulling her hand free. “Believe me. Getting in the middle of Kyle’s problems is the last thing I want to do.” Somehow, Mark was not totally convinced.
The front doorbell chimed.
“Connie,” Pamela called from the kitchen. “Will you get that? He’s probably forgotten his key.”
“Okay,” Connie answered back with a confused look. She glanced at Mark as she stood up. “How could he forget his key when it’s on the same key ring as his car keys?” she whispered.
“Maybe his hands are full,” Mark suggested but rose to his feet. After all, how much ice cream would Kyle have bought for just the four of them? The doorbell chimed again.
“I’m coming,” Connie called as she reached for the doorknob and gave it a turn. “Boy, are you in-” Connie froze as she stood in the open doorway. “Oh, Tom,” she gave a little nervous laugh. “I thought you were Kyle. He isn’t here right now. He went out to get some ice cream. He should be back any minute. Would you like to come in and wait for him?” She began to talk faster and faster as she noticed the somber expression on Tom’s face. “He shouldn’t be much longer, really. He’s been gone for a couple hours and you know how he loves to talk to people. We’re sure he must have run into someone he knows. He should be back any minute.” Her voice was becoming shrill as she began to repeat herself. “He shouldn’t be much longer, really. Really!” she yelled as she began to tremble, tears filling her eyes.
Mark rushed to Connie’s side and put his arm around her to steady her trembling body. He glanced up at the young, dark haired officer, Kyle’s partner. “Please, won’t you come in?” he invited as he gently moved Connie away from the door.
Tom took a step into the foyer. He fumbled nervously with his cap. Another officer, much older and balding, stepped into the foyer beside Tom. Mark recognized him, Kyle’s captain on the force. A sick feeling swept over Mark.
“Mark, Connie,” Tom spoke in a quivering voice. “I need to speak to Pamela. Is she home?”
“Well, it’s about time,” Pamela said as she bounced into the dining room with the steaming, hot peach pie in her mitted hands. Her smile faded instantly and the color drained from her cheeks as her eyes met Tom’s. Her entire body began to tremble.
“No!” she screamed.
The glass pie-plate slipped from her hands and shattered at her feet.
******
The cold September rain, whipped up by the west wind, felt like sharp pinpricks against Cory Martin’s cheeks. His short, dark brown hair was soaked and lay flat against his head. The rain dripped down the back of the upturned collar of his sport coat. Why didn’t I grab my raincoat instead, he thought to himself. But the weatherman said there was only a “slight chance of rain.”
“A slight chance,” he muttered. There was a sudden flash in his mind, a memory of his growing up in Oregon and getting caught in the rain on his way home from school. There a slight chance of rain meant rain, but not here, not in sunny southern California. He shook his head and pressed on across the parking lot toward the awning beneath the red and green neon sign.
“Good afternoon, Mister Martin,” greeted the smiling hostess. Her white blouse and black slacks were a definite improvement over her previous uniform. The old white dresses looked too clinical for an Italian restaurant, he thought. “Here, let me help you with that,” she offered as she took his jacket. “Oh my, you’re soaked clear through.”
“Thank you, Jane.” Cory nodded, pulling his wet shirt away from his skin. “I’m okay. Is she here yet?”
Jane nodded as she turned around and hung his coat up on the rack behind the hostess’ podium. “Yes, sir.”
Cory’s entire body stiffened instantly. He turned sharply and glared at Jane as his anger flashed. “Don’t ever call me that again! I’m nothing like him!” he snapped, his voice sounding uncharacteristically harsh and raspy.
“I-I’m sorry,” Jane apologized, taking a step back, bumping into the coat rack. In the many years that Cory had been coming to Antonio’s, she had never seen this side of him. Cautiously she handed him a dry hand towel, not sure if that would offend him too.
Just as quickly as his anger flared, it vanished, replaced by feelings of guilt. Jane had never been anything but nice to him. She didn’t deserve to be yelled at. He lowered his head.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Jane.” he apologized. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just a bit edgy today.” Cory took the towel and wiped his face and neck, then his hands. “So, how do I look?”
“You look fine, Mister Martin.” Jane nodded with a smile. “Miss Griswold is waiting for you at table eight.”
“Thank you,” he nodded and he handed her back the towel.
The restaurant was unusually empty. The weather is probably the reason, Cory thought as he made his way around the dining room. Suddenly a feeling of overwhelming nervousness engulfed him as he spotted Katherine. His stomach tightened. His hands began to tremble. He rubbed them together in an effort to hide it.
Katherine was seated at their usual table in the back, under the large picture window overlooking the Pacific. Her long auburn hair, tied back in a ponytail by the cream-colored silk scarf he had given her for her birthday, fell in soft curls down to her shoulders. As he neared their table, he could smell the sweet scent of her perfume. His nervousness grew.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he walked up behind her. He bent down and put his arms around her, kissing her check.
“Cory!” she gasped and pulled away from him. “You’re soaking wet!” She laughed as she wiped her cheek. “Yuck!”
Cory released his hold on her and slipped into his chair. He quickly took the cloth napkin from the table and opened it over his lap.
“Oh my god,” Katherine gasped as she noticed the dark circles under Cory’s brown eyes, his sunken cheeks and his sudden weight loss. It had been nearly two months since she saw him last. “Cory, you look awful.”
Cory looked at his fiancé, at her beautiful, brown eyes. He looked away.
“Cory, you look like hell. What’s the matter?” she asked, reaching across the table and placing her hand tenderly on top of his.
Cory shook his head. “It’s nothing, really. I just haven’t been sleeping very well lately.”
“It’s that deadline, isn’t it?” Katherine snapped. “You have to tell that agent of yours, ‘Creativity can’t be rushed.’ Honestly, I don’t know why you put up with him.”
“No,” Cory shook his head. “Jackson’s fine. He’s under pressure too from the publishers. But that’s not it.”
“Then what is it, honey? Tell me. We can face whatever it is together.”
Cory looked down at the sparkling diamond engagement ring on Katherine’s hand as it rested on his. His stomach tightened more. How could he have allowed things to get so out of control? If there was one thing he was good at, he told himself, it was keeping his life in order, scripted like a made-for-TV movie with him directing every detail, every emotion, every camera angle. Now, though, everything was crashing down all around him. He looked into Katherine’s eyes. How could he tell her? How could he spare her the pain and hurt?
“Kathy,” he spoke softly. He could feel a lump growing in his throat, closing it off. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe. His eyes began to tear. “I have to go away,” he said, almost inaudibly.
Katherine pulled her hand away, her look of concern replaced by one of confusion. She glanced around the dining room as though looking for help to understand.
“Wha-what do you mean, g-go away? We’re getting married,” she said, as if reminding him. She began to nervously fumble with her ring.
“I-I,” the words were getting stuck in his throat. “I just have to.”
“I don’t understand,” Katherine said, shaking her head. Her eyes teared up as a feeling of panic began to fill her. “We’re getting mar-”
“Kathy,” Cory interrupted her. “You are my best and my dearest friend. I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe that. I do love you,” he said as he looked into her tear filled eyes. “But I can’t marry you.”
The already quiet room became even more deafeningly quiet. As though everything was suddenly thrust into slow motion, he watched Katherine’s beautiful face as the words entered her ears and slowly registered in her brain and then her heart. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but the words never came. Tears began to stream down her cheeks but she could not divert her eyes from him.
“I’m sorry,” Cory apologized softly.
“B-b-but why?” Katherine choked and cried. She began to tremble as she continued tugging at the ring. “What have I done?”
“It’s not you,” said Cory gently, knowing it sounded so cliché but not knowing what else to say. He reached for her hands, but she pulled them away as she continued to fight with the ring.
“Damn it!” she cursed. The ring would not budge from her finger.
“It’s me,” Cory continued. “There are things about me that you don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“What things?” Katherine asked. “What?”
Cory shook his head. “I’m sorry. I-I just can’t. Not now.”
He stood up and quickly rushed out of the restaurant, pausing only long enough to grab his wet sport coat from the coat rack on the way out.
Suddenly Katherine stopped struggling with the ring on her finger. She sat frozen in shock. Slowly she turned her head and looked out at the waves of the ocean as her mind churned with unanswered questions.
CHAPTER TWO
The clock on the old, red brick fireplace mantle struck nine. Pamela Martin looked up from her leather, wingback chair. She looked about the living room, her gaze landing on this thing, then that, not focusing on anything for too long. Awkwardly, she leaned forward, setting her glass of ice water down on the cherry wood, coffee table in front of her. Though she was only six months pregnant, she felt huge.
“Where is he?” she moaned as she rose to her feet. She ran a nervous hand through her long, brown, wavy hair. “Honestly,” she sighed in disgust as she walked over to the window.
“Pam, honey, don’t worry yourself. He’ll be here soon,” Connie, her sister-in-law, tried to reassure her. Connie turned around as she sat on the sofa next to her husband, Mark, keeping her eyes on Pamela.
“But he’s been gone for over two hours!” Pamela snapped. “He only went to the store for a quart of ice cream.” She gently drew back the sheer lace curtain, peering into the darkened street. “I knew I should’ve picked it up myself. I knew he’d forget to do it on his way home.”
“He probably ran into someone he knows,” Mark said, trying to calm her. “You know how he loves to visit.”
Pamela didn’t answer. She turned away from the window, wringing her hands as she began to pace.
“Pam, honey,” Connie stood up from the sofa and went to her sister-in-law. “Please, try not to worry yourself. It’s not good for you or the baby. I know my little brother and if there’s one thing about him, he loves to gab. He’ll be back soon. Please, come, sit back down and try to relax.”
“I guess you’re right,” Pamela agreed. She walked back over to her chair and sat down. Connie returned to the sofa and took her seat again.
“I just get so frustrated with him sometimes.” Pamela shook her head as she began to explain. “He knows that we always get together every year on Cory’s birthday and still he manages to be late. I don’t know how many times I reminded him what day it is today and to pick up the ice cream on his way home. I tell you, between this pregnancy and him, I think I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Well, you only have three more months to go.” Connie smiled. “And then at least one of your problems will be solved.”
Pamela smiled. “True,” she said, nodding in affirmation as she sat back and wrapped her arms around her belly. “I have to tell you, I can’t wait to actually hold this little one in my arms.”
“I know what you mean,” Connie said, smiling as she glanced at her husband, Mark. A warm feeling rushed through her as she looked at his strong chin, tussled blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. “When I was pregnant with little Byron, I couldn’t wait until he was born. I was so sick and so miserable the whole time. After he was born it took me months before I could fit into my regular clothes again.”
“Well, not all of the weight gain was a bad thing,” Mark said with a nasty grin.
“You men are all alike!” Connie sneered and shook her head, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “Believe me, these are not all they’re cracked up to be. You try packing them around all of the time,” she said, looking down at her full breasts.
“With pleasure,” Mark laughed and reached for her chest.
“Oh stop it!” Connie laughed and slapped his hands away. “Men can be so crude!”
“Where can he be?” Pamela looked passed Connie and Mark at the living room window again. She wasn’t really listening to them. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she had. Kyle had been late before, but never this late and never had she felt the way she did. Perhaps it’s just because of the day, she told herself. You’re just being superstitious. She shook her head again, trying to erase her thoughts.
“He’ll be here soon, Pam,” Mark assured her as he took a sip of his coffee. “Hey, have you and Kyle decided when you’re going to tell his dad about this?”
“Mark!” Connie gasped.
Mark looked at his wife, at her wide-eyed look of shock and indignation. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, as though to say he was only trying to change the subject.
“It’s okay, Connie,” Pamela nodded. “Kyle and I have discussed it and he doesn’t ever want to tell Jack about the baby. With the way Jack drinks and how he’s treated all of us and especially Cory over the years, the baby doesn’t need to be subjected to that.”
“But Pam,” Connie protested. “Dad and Stella only live across town. Forest Grove isn’t that big. People will talk. He’s bound to find out sooner or later.”
“That’s true,” Mark concurred. “It's not like we live in Portland. Stella has her spies. Trust me, he will find out.”
“I know,” Pamela said. She looked at the warm fire crackling in the fireplace and then back at the two of them. “Kyle and I have talked about that, too,” she said. She and Kyle had planned to tell them later, when they knew more, but… “It’s not a definite yet, but Kyle is looking into a job in Seattle with King County.”
“No!” Connie gasped and nearly jumped off the sofa as she sat forward. “You can’t leave. Not when Cory is finally moving back. No, Pam,” Connie pleaded.
“It’s not definite,” Pamela repeated. “We’re just thinking about it.” She shook her head. “Why does everything have to be so complicated? And where is your brother?” Pamela snapped. She stood up and began to pace again.
“He will be here,” Connie said, trying to reassure her. “So, have you two decided on any names for the baby?”
Pamela stopped pacing for a moment, putting one hand on her round stomach and the other on the back of her chair. “I’d like to name the baby after Kyle if it’s a boy, but Kyle wants to name him Graham after my father.”
“Oh no!” Connie gasped and shook her head. “You can’t let him do that. You know how utterly horrible kids can be. They would tease him mercilessly. ‘Graham cracker, Graham cracker,’” she chanted in a high pitched, childlike voice.
“Yes,” agreed Pamela laughed with a nod. “I know.”
“Well, I’m with you. Kyle Junior would be a much better name.”
“That is if it’s a boy,” Pamela interrupted. “If it’s a girl, we are naming her after your mother and mine, Emily Rose.”
Connie smiled.
“Wait a minute,” Mark spoke up. “You mean to tell us that you and Kyle don’t know what you're having?” He gave her a curious look.
“I know it seems old fashioned, but there are too few real surprises in life.” Pamela explained and smiled. “We told the doctors that we don’t want to know.”
“I don’t care either way,” Connie said, beaming. “Boy or girl, I’m going to be an aunt! Aunt Connie,” she smiled.
Just then, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke the moment of silence. Pamela jumped in surprise.
“Well, it’s about time!” she said indignantly.
“See, we told you he’d be home soon.” Mark said as he looked over his shoulder at the window.
“I’ll go warm up the pie.” Pamela said as she quickly disappeared into the kitchen.
“Boy is Kyle gonna catch it when he walks in,” Connie whispered to Mark.
“Just remember, dear,” he said quietly as he took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Stay out of it. It’s between them.”
“Oh, I will,” Connie reassured him, pulling her hand free. “Believe me. Getting in the middle of Kyle’s problems is the last thing I want to do.” Somehow, Mark was not totally convinced.
The front doorbell chimed.
“Connie,” Pamela called from the kitchen. “Will you get that? He’s probably forgotten his key.”
“Okay,” Connie answered back with a confused look. She glanced at Mark as she stood up. “How could he forget his key when it’s on the same key ring as his car keys?” she whispered.
“Maybe his hands are full,” Mark suggested but rose to his feet. After all, how much ice cream would Kyle have bought for just the four of them? The doorbell chimed again.
“I’m coming,” Connie called as she reached for the doorknob and gave it a turn. “Boy, are you in-” Connie froze as she stood in the open doorway. “Oh, Tom,” she gave a little nervous laugh. “I thought you were Kyle. He isn’t here right now. He went out to get some ice cream. He should be back any minute. Would you like to come in and wait for him?” She began to talk faster and faster as she noticed the somber expression on Tom’s face. “He shouldn’t be much longer, really. He’s been gone for a couple hours and you know how he loves to talk to people. We’re sure he must have run into someone he knows. He should be back any minute.” Her voice was becoming shrill as she began to repeat herself. “He shouldn’t be much longer, really. Really!” she yelled as she began to tremble, tears filling her eyes.
Mark rushed to Connie’s side and put his arm around her to steady her trembling body. He glanced up at the young, dark haired officer, Kyle’s partner. “Please, won’t you come in?” he invited as he gently moved Connie away from the door.
Tom took a step into the foyer. He fumbled nervously with his cap. Another officer, much older and balding, stepped into the foyer beside Tom. Mark recognized him, Kyle’s captain on the force. A sick feeling swept over Mark.
“Mark, Connie,” Tom spoke in a quivering voice. “I need to speak to Pamela. Is she home?”
“Well, it’s about time,” Pamela said as she bounced into the dining room with the steaming, hot peach pie in her mitted hands. Her smile faded instantly and the color drained from her cheeks as her eyes met Tom’s. Her entire body began to tremble.
“No!” she screamed.
The glass pie-plate slipped from her hands and shattered at her feet.
******
