unwilling for them to see her face, to know her thoughts. How could Jake even speak those words in front of her? And to Michael, the very embodiment of his own betrayal! “Rachel?”
“I’m going to check the linens in the guest room,” she said stiffly. Let him figure out which room she meant. His or his brand-new son’s.
A S THOUGH HE KNEW where to draw the line, Jake assumed the task of showing Michael where he would sleep. He helped him make the bed with fresh linens, easing his awkwardness in unpacking his meager belongings and placing them in the drawers of the chest. Pausing in the hall, Rachel heard them, Jake’s tone deep and calm, Michael’s hesitant at times, then responding like a puppy to kindness. When she heard Jake send him to the bathroom to shower, she drew in a tense breath. Finally bedtime. Now she and Jake could have it out.
Leaving Michael’s bedroom, Jake caught her eye. He stopped, and for a few long seconds they studied each other by the soft glow of the night-light on the wall. With the insight learned in eighteen years of marriage, both knew they’d reached a crossroads. The certainty thrummed in the air around them. What they did, what they said tonight might sever the fabric of their relationshipbeyond repair. Neither of them was prepared for the heartbreak that seemed to have come to them. First Scotty, now Michael. Eyes clinging, searching, they stood motionless as if moving would set in motion something both feared. After a while, they heard Michael turn off the shower. Then, still without speaking, they turned to head for the den.
The telephone rang just as Jake was fixing himself a drink. Jake picked it up, and from the tone of his voice and his terse replies, Rachel knew it was business. She got off the sofa irritably, only half-aware of his conversation. Surely he wouldn’t be called out tonight of all nights!
At the French doors, she stopped. Considering what they had to talk about, it would probably be best to do it out on the patio. She glanced at Jake, who lifted a hand to signal he’d be a minute.
He covered the phone and spoke in a low tone. “Check on Michael, will you? I think he’s got everything he needs, but—” He removed his palm and spoke suddenly into the mouthpiece. “This is not in the city’s jurisdiction, Frank. Tell Gonzales—”
He glared at the palm tree on the patio while listening to Frank Cordoba. “Okay, okay. Then tell Gonzales’s man that he can check with us tomorrow, and if I think it’s legitimate, and if it’s city stuff and if they have the paperwork, we’ll cooperate. You got that?” He dropped hiseyes to his feet, listening. “All right, all right. Put Milt on.”
Rachel walked out. There was no telling how long Jake would be. Reluctantly, she stopped at the door of the room where Michael was, her hand raised, ready to knock. The door was ajar, but the only light in the room came from the fluorescent tube on the aquarium that was built into the bookcase. She blinked a little in surprise. Fresh from the shower, wearing only a towel and a rapt expression, Michael was standing in front of the aquarium watching the fish. As she watched, he hitched the towel up with one hand and reached for a can of fish food.
He was gangly and adolescent and slim as a reed. Still, he was so like Jake. He had the same stance, one hip thrown slightly forward, his feet cocked at almost ninety degrees. Even the slope of his shoulders was familiar. How many times had she seen Jake tip his head just that way to study something that particularly interested him? Moving closer, she could see the tiny brown birthmark on his shoulder that was identical to the one she’d kissed a thousand times on Jake.
Finally sensing her presence, Michael glanced around. “Oh, hey, Miss Rachel. I didn’t see you there.”
“Probably because you didn’t turn the light on.”
He shrugged sheepishly. “I had it on, but thefish were so neat that I wanted to look
“I’m going to check the linens in the guest room,” she said stiffly. Let him figure out which room she meant. His or his brand-new son’s.
A S THOUGH HE KNEW where to draw the line, Jake assumed the task of showing Michael where he would sleep. He helped him make the bed with fresh linens, easing his awkwardness in unpacking his meager belongings and placing them in the drawers of the chest. Pausing in the hall, Rachel heard them, Jake’s tone deep and calm, Michael’s hesitant at times, then responding like a puppy to kindness. When she heard Jake send him to the bathroom to shower, she drew in a tense breath. Finally bedtime. Now she and Jake could have it out.
Leaving Michael’s bedroom, Jake caught her eye. He stopped, and for a few long seconds they studied each other by the soft glow of the night-light on the wall. With the insight learned in eighteen years of marriage, both knew they’d reached a crossroads. The certainty thrummed in the air around them. What they did, what they said tonight might sever the fabric of their relationshipbeyond repair. Neither of them was prepared for the heartbreak that seemed to have come to them. First Scotty, now Michael. Eyes clinging, searching, they stood motionless as if moving would set in motion something both feared. After a while, they heard Michael turn off the shower. Then, still without speaking, they turned to head for the den.
The telephone rang just as Jake was fixing himself a drink. Jake picked it up, and from the tone of his voice and his terse replies, Rachel knew it was business. She got off the sofa irritably, only half-aware of his conversation. Surely he wouldn’t be called out tonight of all nights!
At the French doors, she stopped. Considering what they had to talk about, it would probably be best to do it out on the patio. She glanced at Jake, who lifted a hand to signal he’d be a minute.
He covered the phone and spoke in a low tone. “Check on Michael, will you? I think he’s got everything he needs, but—” He removed his palm and spoke suddenly into the mouthpiece. “This is not in the city’s jurisdiction, Frank. Tell Gonzales—”
He glared at the palm tree on the patio while listening to Frank Cordoba. “Okay, okay. Then tell Gonzales’s man that he can check with us tomorrow, and if I think it’s legitimate, and if it’s city stuff and if they have the paperwork, we’ll cooperate. You got that?” He dropped hiseyes to his feet, listening. “All right, all right. Put Milt on.”
Rachel walked out. There was no telling how long Jake would be. Reluctantly, she stopped at the door of the room where Michael was, her hand raised, ready to knock. The door was ajar, but the only light in the room came from the fluorescent tube on the aquarium that was built into the bookcase. She blinked a little in surprise. Fresh from the shower, wearing only a towel and a rapt expression, Michael was standing in front of the aquarium watching the fish. As she watched, he hitched the towel up with one hand and reached for a can of fish food.
He was gangly and adolescent and slim as a reed. Still, he was so like Jake. He had the same stance, one hip thrown slightly forward, his feet cocked at almost ninety degrees. Even the slope of his shoulders was familiar. How many times had she seen Jake tip his head just that way to study something that particularly interested him? Moving closer, she could see the tiny brown birthmark on his shoulder that was identical to the one she’d kissed a thousand times on Jake.
Finally sensing her presence, Michael glanced around. “Oh, hey, Miss Rachel. I didn’t see you there.”
“Probably because you didn’t turn the light on.”
He shrugged sheepishly. “I had it on, but thefish were so neat that I wanted to look
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