Читать книгу Big Girls Don't Cry - Бренда Новак - Страница 8

Los Angeles, California

ISAAC COULDN’T HELP puzzling over Keith’s behavior. He vacillated between believing he must have misconstrued the situation, and wondering what his brother-in-law was hiding. A forty-five-car pileup was no small thing. A traveler would definitely notice something like that. And Isaac didn’t believe for a moment that Elizabeth had mixed up the dates. She wouldn’t have pressed her husband as hard as she had if there was any possibility of that.

Maybe Keith had spotted the congested traffic and exited the freeway before realizing the extent of what had happened. And maybe, somehow, he had missed all the news reports of the accident the rest of the day.

Isaac didn’t know a whole lot about Sacramento, but he’d been there once, years ago, to meet up with an old girlfriend who’d long since passed out of his life. If he remembered right, the airport was pretty far out of town, connected to the city by only one street, a major freeway. But that could’ve changed….

Hoping that he’d arrived at a logical explanation, Isaac stared at a map of Sacramento on the computer in Keith’s home office. It looked as if there were a few exits off Interstate 5 that Keith could’ve taken. But the airport still sat amid large tracts of farmland. Would someone not very familiar with the area, someone sitting in fog thick enough to cause that big a pileup, know how to get around a traffic jam when there were so few options available?

It didn’t seem entirely plausible, but there was always the possibility that Keith knew Sacramento better than Isaac thought. He certainly traveled enough.

“Isaac?” Elizabeth called from the kitchen.

“What?” he replied, still studying the map.

“Telephone.”

Isaac blinked in surprise. He’d been so absorbed in what he was doing he hadn’t even heard the phone ring.

Leaning to the right of the computer, he breathed in the scent of furniture polish as he reached for the handset.

“Hello?”

“Isaac?”

A strong British accent immediately identified the caller as Reginald Woolston, Isaac’s Department Head at Chicago University. “What’s up, Reggie?”

“Good news. I just received a call from the Research Grants Program of the Center for Tropical Forest Science.”

Isaac sat taller. “And?”

“They’re forwarding your application to the interview committee. They’d like to meet you.”

With Reginald’s help, Isaac had submitted his application months ago, before he’d left the Congo. It was about time CTFS finally reached the interview process. “When?”

“That’s the bad news. Your appointment is scheduled for tomorrow. Can you make it?”

Isaac scowled at the iridescent glow of the computer monitor. “I’m in California!”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“Can’t we schedule an appointment for next week so I can have a chance to get home?”

“I’m afraid not,” his boss replied. “The committee meets only once a month. If you miss tomorrow’s meeting, it will push your application back thirty days.”

Isaac didn’t want to delay his chances. Not when he was so eager to return to his research. “No, I’ll…” The black line that was Interstate 5 was all that stood out on the Sacramento map as he leaned back. “I’ll catch a flight out right away.”

“Good for you. I was hoping you’d say that.”

Isaac could hear Elizabeth telling Christopher to get his backpack. She worked from nine until three each day managing a large dental office, but she’d taken the week off to spend with him and had kept Christopher out of day care, too. Now she was getting ready to drive him to his kindergarten class, which started at noon. “Did they sound interested?” he asked Reggie.

“You know the committee type. They rarely give anything away. ‘We’ve had numerous applications,’ and all that rot.”

Isaac chuckled at Reginald’s British colloquialism. When he talked to Reg, he nearly found himself saying, “I say, old man,” or “jolly good, then.”

“You’ve made the first cut, as we expected,” Reg continued. “But I’ve heard Harold Munoz is also applying, and he’s done some great work in the past. The competition will be fierce, so let’s make the most of the opportunity, shall we?”

Harold Munoz was more interested in making a name for himself than he was in saving Africa’s population of forest elephants. Isaac didn’t like him. But, with any luck, Isaac would be the one going back to the place that had captured his imagination like no other. “If I get the grant, how long will it be before the money comes through? Did they give you any indication?”

“Judging from experience, it could be three months, or it could be two years, right? You’ve been through this before.”

He had been through the process, but Isaac wished Reg would show some excitement. After all, Reginald shared Isaac’s passion for Africa and all the animals to be studied there. He used to lead teams to the Republic of the Congo himself, before he accepted the corner office at the university and officially hung up his “field” clothes for a monotonous series of tweed jackets. “Just making conversation,” Isaac said.

“I see. Well, it’s too early to tell.”

And, as usual, Reg was too conservative to speculate. “Right. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Do you need a ride home from the airport?” his boss asked before Isaac could hang up.

Isaac considered his options. He’d returned from the Republic of the Congo almost a month ago, but as soon as he’d settled into his small condo and caught up on what he’d missed at the university, he’d come to California to see his sister, niece and nephew. He didn’t really want to contact some friend or other he hadn’t spoken to in over a year and suddenly ask a favor, which meant he’d have to take a cab. He figured he might as well spend the time talking to Reg, rather than ride alone. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind. Leave a message on my voice mail with your time of arrival. I’m heading into a faculty meeting right now.”

Isaac agreed and disconnected, then retrieved the phone book so he could arrange his flight. Fifteen minutes later, he was eager to pack so he wouldn’t miss his plane.

Quickly collecting his day planner, he stood and started out of the room. But then his eye caught the computer screen once again.

Keith must have taken the exit called Power Line Road and avoided the whole pileup, he decided. Elizabeth admitted that when he was out of town she rarely heard from him. He was probably as absorbed by his work as Isaac was and had forgotten about the detour in Sacramento by the time he returned home.

In any case, what Isaac had sensed in his brother-in-law this morning wasn’t anything to worry about. Elizabeth was going to be fine.

With a click of the mouse, he closed the map.

Dundee, Idaho

REENIE SLOWED as she passed the small farm for sale a few miles from her home.

“Mommy, why are you stopping?” six-year-old Isabella demanded from the back seat of the old minivan.

Reenie had just picked up her three daughters from school. It was raining and had been for most of the afternoon. She could smell the crushed autumn leaves on her children’s boots, the cool wet of the outdoors on their raincoats and umbrellas, the musty scent of their damp hair. “So I can dream,” she said.

Angela, older than Isabella by two years, was sitting in the back, too. “Mom loves that farm, silly,” she said. “Since it went up for sale, she stops here almost every time we pass by.”

Reenie smiled at Angela’s don’t-you-know-anything attitude and pulled onto the shoulder so she wouldn’t cause an accident.

“Are you sure Daddy won’t move here?” Jennifer asked. The oldest at ten, she always tried to claim the passenger seat. But for safety’s sake, Reenie made her ride in back with her sister.

The wipers continued to beat across the windshield. “I’m sure,” Reenie said, watching as great gusts of wind turned the rusty weather vane on the old barn.

“Can’t you talk him into it?” The snaps of Jennifer’s raincoat made a popping noise as she removed it.

“No.” Suppressing a sigh, Reenie turned down the heater. She’d tried to convince Keith that the Higley farm would be a wonderful place to raise their girls. She’d spoken to him about it again and again, but he wanted no part of such a big project. He wasn’t the type to remodel or farm, he told her. He traveled too much.

But she’d thought the farm might eventually provide a way for him to settle down and stay in one place. They could raise and sell a certain breed of dog or horse or pig. They could stable horses or plant crops or lease out the extra land. Reenie knew how to ride. She could even give lessons to the kids in town who rarely had the chance to sit in a saddle. Maybe she and Keith wouldn’t make a mint with their little farm, but he wasn’t earning all that much right now. The company he worked for made plenty of grandiose promises for later, but “later” never came. At least with the farm they’d be together. If finances became a problem, she could always go back to teaching. The life she had now was nice, comfortable. She took care of her girls, helped her mother with various charities and volunteered at the elementary school. But it wasn’t enough. What she really wanted was a good challenge. And for Keith to stay in Dundee.

“He won’t move here ever?” Jennifer pressed.

“Maybe in a few years.” All his traveling had to be taxing, but Keith never complained. He loved his job, and she loved him. It was that simple. She’d known there wasn’t anyone else for her the day they’d first met. He’d walked into the Homecoming Dance, the new kid everyone had been talking about, and Reenie’s heart had dropped to her knees. She couldn’t remember ever having that kind of reaction to another man. It wasn’t because Keith was so handsome, although his rugged, angular face, dark blond hair and brown eyes certainly appealed to her. His confidence was what drew her, his strength. He was one of the few boys she couldn’t intimidate with the force of her own personality.

“What time’s Daddy coming home?” Angela asked.

Reminded of Keith’s call, which she’d received at her mother’s house earlier, Reenie frowned and put the transmission into Drive. “Not for a while.”

“But you said he’d be here for dinner!” Jennifer complained.

The heater whirred softly as Reenie leaned forward to glance up at a darkening sky. “He would’ve been, if not for this storm.” She threw them a rueful smile. Jennifer and Angela looked almost exactly like Keith, especially Angela, who insisted on wearing her blond hair short. Blue-eyed Isabella, however, had hair so dark it was nearly black, like Reenie’s.

“There’s always some reason he can’t be here,” Jennifer muttered.

Ignoring the pique in her daughter’s voice, Reenie checked over her shoulder before pulling onto the road. “I guess the weather’s even worse in Boise.”

“Is he stuck up in the sky, circling around and around, like that one time when it was snowing and he couldn’t land?” Angela asked, sounding a bit frightened.

“No. The plane hasn’t even taken off yet. They’re holding it in Los Angeles until the weather clears up.”

“He’ll be home tonight, though, won’t he?” Isabella said.

Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder boomed in the distance. Then the patter of the rain grew deeper, sounding like tiny pebbles bombarding the windshield. “I hope so,” Reenie replied. She missed Keith when he was gone, missed his warmth in her bed, his support with the girls, the smile he reserved for her alone. She felt as if half her life was locked in cold storage. But when Keith came home, he made the wait worthwhile.

She felt decidedly warmer remembering the last time they’d made love. They’d been as eager for each other as if they’d been newlyweds, despite the fact they’d been married for eleven years. Maybe the absences did that for them. Maybe the traveling, much as she hated it, wasn’t all bad.

She had to believe that, didn’t she? Or she wouldn’t be able to tolerate his job any longer.

Their small wooden house came up on the right, a few miles after the cozier neighbourhoods of Dundee gave way to ranchettes. As soon as Reenie pulled into the driveway, Jennifer released her seat belt and pounded the back of Reenie’s seat in excitement. “Hey, you’re selling Dad’s Jeep!”

Reenie gazed at the vehicle parked beneath the tarp Keith had attached to the side of the garage. She’d just put the For Sale sign up this morning. “I’m trying.”

“After it sells, will we have the money to buy a horse?” Jennifer asked.

The engine sputtered as Reenie turned off the ignition. “I doubt it, honey. We don’t have anywhere to stable a horse.”

“We have a big yard. The Oakleys down the street have horses.”

“We’d have to build stables in back or pay the Oakleys for board. And I’m sure your dad won’t go for either option. He’s planning to buy a motorcycle with the money.”

“Maybe we’ll get enough for both.” Angela tugged her backpack onto her shoulder. “Has anyone wanted to buy it yet?”

“Not that I know of.” Reenie selected the key that opened the house so she’d be ready for the dash across the wet yard. “Someone might’ve called, but I’ve been gone all day.”

“Let’s go see!” Isabella said.

Reenie grimaced at the sky, hoping for a letup that didn’t appear to be coming. “There won’t be many people out looking at cars in this weather.”

“It’ll sell,” Jennifer said confidently. “Everyone loves the Jeep.”

“I hope you’re right.” Reenie wanted part of the money, too—for Christmas.

“Hey,” Isabella said, her voice so loud it nearly made Reenie’s ears ring. “Uncle Gabe brought our swing!”

Since the accident, Gabe had started making the most beautiful armoires, rocking chairs, beds, tables—even clocks and, evidently, tree swings. But after the way he’d handled their meeting with Lucky this morning, Reenie didn’t want to think about him or his peace offering. She didn’t want to forgive her brother too fast. She’d tried calling Lucky twice since breakfast and hadn’t been able to reach her.

“Remember to take off your boots in the mudroom,” she said as she stepped out of the car. “I just had the carpets cleaned.”

They all ran for the back door and piled into the little antechamber that led to the kitchen. Old Bailey, their bassett hound, greeted them by wagging his whole hindquarters as they tossed their boots in a corner and hung their raincoats on hooks.

Reenie finished first because she wasn’t wearing a hat or a sweater under her coat and passed into the kitchen to find the light blinking on her answering machine. Pressing the button that would deliver her messages, she leaned on the counter, hoping to receive some word from her husband.

Sure enough, Keith’s voice came into the room, as warm and steady as always. “Hi honey. I’m still in L.A. It looks like it’ll be a few more hours, so I’m going down the street for a real meal. Don’t wait up for me. I love you,” he said. “I’ll get home as soon as I can.”

The machine beeped and Reenie stood. Yet another night alone with the girls.

“His job’ll be the death of me,” she muttered.

Los Angeles, California

ISAAC HELD TIGHT to his boarding pass as he strode briskly through the airport, weaving in and out of the small clusters of people who were toting more luggage than he was or had stopped for one reason or another. His plane was leaving in forty-five minutes, which meant they’d be boarding in fifteen. Seven hours after that, he’d reach Chicago, where Reg would pick him up and take him home. He’d get in late, but the thought that he wouldn’t have any trouble making his meeting tomorrow morning filled him with relief.

Hiking the bag that contained his laptop computer higher on his shoulder, he left the ticketing area. But when he reached the security checkpoint, he felt a flicker of concern. The line was longer than he’d expected, and it wasn’t moving very fast.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered impatiently, tapping his boarding pass against the palm of one hand as they inched slowly forward.

A moment later, the line stopped altogether.

What was the holdup? Leaning to the left, he tried to see around the people in front of him. An old lady was arguing with security personnel about having to remove her shoes, as if she hadn’t watched everyone else do the same thing for the past thirty minutes. A couple of college boys were taking their computers out of their bags and putting them in gray bins.

God, at this rate—

Suddenly Isaac caught sight of someone familiar. The man had his back to him, so it was difficult to be sure, but he looked exactly like Keith.

He had to be wrong, of course. His brother-in-law had called Elizabeth just an hour or so ago to tell her he’d arrived safely in Phoenix. If he was in Phoenix, he certainly couldn’t be here.

But that guy…

Moving to the other side of the line, Isaac tried to get a better look. At first someone inadvertently blocked his view, but then the line spread apart and Isaac finally caught the profile of the man he’d been trying to see.

It was crazy! He looked exactly like Keith. He was even wearing the same camel-colored overcoat.

The strange feeling he’d had earlier that morning, the sense that something was terribly wrong, swept over Isaac again. He didn’t care what Elizabeth had said about Keith reaching Phoenix, this man was her husband. The longer Isaac watched, the more certain he became.

Taking his cell phone from his bag, he dialed Elizabeth’s number. “Hey, Liz,” he said when she answered.

She sounded surprised to hear from him, probably because she’d only dropped him off a few minutes ago. “Did you miss your plane?” she asked.

“No, I’m going through security right now.”

“Then…did you forget something?”

“I don’t think so. I was hoping…” He cleared his throat. “Keith made it safely to Phoenix, right? I mean, he called you before we left the house, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. He called around two.”

“Did he say what the weather was like?”

“Nearly eighty degrees. In November. Can you believe it?”

“No.” He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that Keith was even in Phoenix, because Isaac was standing right here, staring at him. “You don’t think he forgot anything, do you?”

“No, why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Isaac, you’re acting strange.”

A woman’s voice came over the intercom. “This is a security announcement…”

Isaac bowed his head so he could hear above the noise.

“What do you care about the weather in Phoenix?” Elizabeth was asking him. “And what do all these questions mean?”

Isaac couldn’t say what was going on. But he was determined to find out. “Nothing. I’m…” His mind groped for an explanation.

“You’re what?” she said when he didn’t finish.

Reeling… “Passing the time,” he finished lamely. “Keith and I didn’t get much of a chance to talk, and I was curious about his schedule. When do you expect him back?”

“In two weeks or so.”

“Is he always gone two weeks?”

“Give or take a day here and there. If the kids have something special, he’ll occasionally come home early. Sometimes work demands that he make allowances on the other end.” She paused. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said, feeling numb as he imagined Keith on the phone to Elizabeth. I’m here in Phoenix…the weather’s beautiful…nearly eighty degrees…

“Isaac, what’s the matter with you?” she asked.

She didn’t suspect Keith’s deception, he realized. His baby sister, who’d already been through so much, probably had a nasty surprise in store for her, and he was going to have to be the one to break the news to her.

But not now. Not until he knew exactly what was going on. “Nothing.”

“Something’s wrong. You never act like this.”

He swallowed a sigh. “I’m fine. I’ve gotta go, okay? I don’t want to miss my plane,” he said, and hung up.

Fortunately, the line was now moving faster. Ahead of him, Keith went through the metal detector, then started putting on his expensive Italian loafers.

In a few seconds he’d be fully dressed, recover his belongings and head to his gate, Isaac realized. But which gate would that be? Isaac had to know.

Letting the stress he felt show in his face, he turned to the person in front of him. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m about to miss my plane. If you can afford the time, would you mind letting me go in front of you?”

It was a woman and her daughter. They politely stepped aside and let him through, and several more people did the same. He was nearly to the metal detector when Keith slung his carry-on over his shoulder and walked off.

Isaac cleared security and collected his things, hesitating briefly when he realized that Keith had moved in the opposite direction to the one Isaac needed to go. If he followed his brother-in-law, he’d miss his plane. Which meant he’d miss his interview.

Picturing his sister at the breakfast table this morning, so trusting and gullible and, along with her two kids, disappointed to see her husband go, he cursed softly. Then he gazed down the long corridor, managed to pick his brother-in-law’s tall figure out of the crowd far ahead and started to follow.