Diana felt better all week, not
worried about Zack being there, willing to talk herself out of fussing about
this new wrinkle in their lives.
She was caught completely off guard, then, when she returned
home Thursday evening and found a strange man standing next to his car in her
driveway. The car was a big one, a black, shining luxury car; the man was
equally big and imposing, even a little intimidating. He looked like trouble,
Diana had thought when she pulled into the driveway, blocking his car with
hers, since she couldn't get around him to stop in her usual spot in front of
the garage.
He frowned as he strode up to her, tugging a little at his
dark suit. His white hair seemed a little disarrayed. He looked hot, she
thought, hot and a little angry. Well, she was angry too, but not so angry she
would lose sight of what was going on here.
"Can I help you?" she said, standing outside the
car, keeping the door between him and her. Lark was fussing a little in the
back seat.
"If you're Diana Stonehouse you can. Is that my
granddaughter?" He gestured to the car, stepped closer. She felt
intimidated, no two ways about it. She sighed, tried to hold her ground, tried
to resist jumping into the car and speeding away.
"Who are you?" she asked, making the question as
challenging as she dared.
He took a breath, which had the effect of puffing him up a
little. If anything, he looked bigger, more imposing. "I'm Sam
White," he said in an authoritative tone of voice.
"Any relation to Zack White?" she asked.
"I'm Zack's father," he answered.
"I see," she said. For a moment, she considered
smiling, offering her hand, inviting him in, but something about this guy set
her on edge. This was the man Zack White hadn't said no to for years. She was
beginning to understand Zack a little better than she wanted to. Instead of
speaking up, she got back in the car, slammed the door and locked it.
He came closer then, knocking hard on the window.
Despite her resolve, she flinched. After a moment, she put
the glass down about an inch.
"Mr. White," she said, as calmly as she could
manage, "you may not understand that you're scaring me. I'm going to drive
away now. I suggest you leave."
"I want to see my granddaughter."
"No," she said firmly. "Talk to your son. Arrange
it with Zack. Here. In town. At a time and place we agree on."
"What do you think you're doing?"
She stared at him. "I might ask you the same
thing," she said. "Just what do you think you're doing, Mr.
White?"
CHAPTER FOUR
After she drove away from her home, Diana quickly decided
the best place to go was Carl and Mary's house. When she arrived, Mary had just
gotten home from work. Diana called Zack in Chicago from the kitchen phone at
Carl's house, sitting on a chair, breathing deeply, waiting for someone to
answer the phone at the other end. Lark was banging on something in the playpen
in the other room but she seemed happy. If Diana turned a little, she could see
the baby, check on her.
Mary was fussing around the kitchen, pretending not to
listen but exhibiting a lot of anxiety nonetheless. Mary kept moving: walking
to the door and staring at the baby, then walking to the kitchen table and
rifling through the stack of mail, then walking to the refrigerator and staring
inside. Diana sat at the kitchen table, receiver pressed to her ear, running
one finger up and down the glass of orange juice Mary had poured for her.
Zack wasn't home. Diana left a message for him to call her
here, repeated the number carefully, then hung up. Mary had ended up at the
sink, staring out the small window over it into the neighbor's yard. Nothing
was going on over there. She just stared. Mary looked tense, her shoulders up,
her head stiff, her hands tight against the tiled edge of the counter.
"Hey, Mary," Diana said softly, not wanting to
startle her. Mary jerked a little, then turned slowly. "Is it okay if I
stick around for a while? If you want me to go, I'll go somewhere else and
worried about Zack being there, willing to talk herself out of fussing about
this new wrinkle in their lives.
She was caught completely off guard, then, when she returned
home Thursday evening and found a strange man standing next to his car in her
driveway. The car was a big one, a black, shining luxury car; the man was
equally big and imposing, even a little intimidating. He looked like trouble,
Diana had thought when she pulled into the driveway, blocking his car with
hers, since she couldn't get around him to stop in her usual spot in front of
the garage.
He frowned as he strode up to her, tugging a little at his
dark suit. His white hair seemed a little disarrayed. He looked hot, she
thought, hot and a little angry. Well, she was angry too, but not so angry she
would lose sight of what was going on here.
"Can I help you?" she said, standing outside the
car, keeping the door between him and her. Lark was fussing a little in the
back seat.
"If you're Diana Stonehouse you can. Is that my
granddaughter?" He gestured to the car, stepped closer. She felt
intimidated, no two ways about it. She sighed, tried to hold her ground, tried
to resist jumping into the car and speeding away.
"Who are you?" she asked, making the question as
challenging as she dared.
He took a breath, which had the effect of puffing him up a
little. If anything, he looked bigger, more imposing. "I'm Sam
White," he said in an authoritative tone of voice.
"Any relation to Zack White?" she asked.
"I'm Zack's father," he answered.
"I see," she said. For a moment, she considered
smiling, offering her hand, inviting him in, but something about this guy set
her on edge. This was the man Zack White hadn't said no to for years. She was
beginning to understand Zack a little better than she wanted to. Instead of
speaking up, she got back in the car, slammed the door and locked it.
He came closer then, knocking hard on the window.
Despite her resolve, she flinched. After a moment, she put
the glass down about an inch.
"Mr. White," she said, as calmly as she could
manage, "you may not understand that you're scaring me. I'm going to drive
away now. I suggest you leave."
"I want to see my granddaughter."
"No," she said firmly. "Talk to your son. Arrange
it with Zack. Here. In town. At a time and place we agree on."
"What do you think you're doing?"
She stared at him. "I might ask you the same
thing," she said. "Just what do you think you're doing, Mr.
White?"
CHAPTER FOUR
After she drove away from her home, Diana quickly decided
the best place to go was Carl and Mary's house. When she arrived, Mary had just
gotten home from work. Diana called Zack in Chicago from the kitchen phone at
Carl's house, sitting on a chair, breathing deeply, waiting for someone to
answer the phone at the other end. Lark was banging on something in the playpen
in the other room but she seemed happy. If Diana turned a little, she could see
the baby, check on her.
Mary was fussing around the kitchen, pretending not to
listen but exhibiting a lot of anxiety nonetheless. Mary kept moving: walking
to the door and staring at the baby, then walking to the kitchen table and
rifling through the stack of mail, then walking to the refrigerator and staring
inside. Diana sat at the kitchen table, receiver pressed to her ear, running
one finger up and down the glass of orange juice Mary had poured for her.
Zack wasn't home. Diana left a message for him to call her
here, repeated the number carefully, then hung up. Mary had ended up at the
sink, staring out the small window over it into the neighbor's yard. Nothing
was going on over there. She just stared. Mary looked tense, her shoulders up,
her head stiff, her hands tight against the tiled edge of the counter.
"Hey, Mary," Diana said softly, not wanting to
startle her. Mary jerked a little, then turned slowly. "Is it okay if I
stick around for a while? If you want me to go, I'll go somewhere else and
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