Читать книгу Who's The Daddy? - Judy Christenberry, Judy Christenberry - Страница 8

CAROLINE STARED IN AWE at the magnificent residence the limo stopped in front of, after having driven through a large gate flanked by brick walls. It must take an army of workers to maintain the lush grounds, she decided, her gaze traveling over the perfect flower beds, the exactly trimmed hedges.

She turned to compliment her father on the beauty of their home only to discover everyone staring at her. She felt like a bug under a microscope.

“No, I don’t remember,” she assured them dryly. “I’ll let you know when my memory returns.”

All three looked away.

“Why did Prescott and Adrian come with you to pick me up instead of my mother?” Caroline suddenly asked, struck by the presence of these men rather than family members.

“Friday is Save the Whales day,” her father muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

Adrian leaned forward to explain. “Your mother is quite involved in the local charities. On Fridays, she goes to the meeting for saving the whales.”

Caroline remembered a curious remark from the day before. “And one of her charities is for unwed mothers?”

“Yes,” her father snapped.

Caroline asked no more questions. Not yet.

Her father escorted her into the house and introduced her to the housekeeper, Mrs. Lamb, and then left for the office, accompanied by Prescott and Adrian.

“Welcome home, Caroline. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m still a little shaky. If you’ll show me to my room, I’ll lie down for a while.”

“Why, honey, there’s no need to be formal!” the woman said with a laugh that sent a shooting pain through Caroline’s head. “You know better’n me where your room is.”

Her patience was wearing thin. Amnesia might play a large role in a lot of jokes, but she wasn’t finding it funny. “Mrs. Lamb, I have amnesia. I don’t remember ever seeing this house before.”

“Oh, my stars. Of course, Caroline. You just come this way. Anything you want to know, you just ask me.”

If her head weren’t splitting into a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon, she might have taken the woman up on the offer. Later. She only had one question at the moment.

“If I want to invite someone to dinner, is that all right?”

“Of course it is. Just tell me when and how many.”

Caroline took a deep breath before she clarified her request. “I meant if I wanted to have a guest for dinner and—and not dine with the family.”

“Oh, of course, you want something romanticlike? No problem. It’s nice out at night right now. I could set up a table for two on the patio. You’d be all alone there.”

“That would be perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Lamb. I’ll let you know when.”

“Sure enough. I’m just having a little trouble with you being so formal and all. When you wanted something real special from me, you always used to call me Lambie.” The woman smiled with a warmth that struck Caroline as the kindest she’d seen since she awoke a lost person.

She reached out and touched Mrs. Lamb’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sure I’ll remember everything soon. If you’ll just be patient.”

“Of course I will. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt bad.”

“Thank you.”

She followed the housekeeper up a wide staircase, down a long hall to the last door on the right.

“Your room looks out over the pool.”

She pushed open the door and Caroline stepped into the room. She stared around her, her eyes wide. “Who decorated it?”

“Why, you did, Caroline, about two years ago. You don’t remember? Oh, my stars, what a silly question. Forgive me, child. Now look, here’s the phone and if you want anything, you just pick it up and press this button. Okay? I’ll be in the kitchen.” With a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks, Mrs. Lamb fled the room.

Though she moved about the room, searching for clues to who Caroline Adkins might be, she also recognized a sense of contentment gradually filling her. It felt as if she had finally found a sanctuary from the maze her life had become.

Maybe it’s all the blue. I’ve always been partial to blue. She had taken several more steps before she realized she’d remembered something else about herself. Yes, she’d always liked blues. And bright colors.

With a sigh she pulled back the coverlet on the king-size bed and sank down amid a huge collection of pillows. She’d worry about who she was, what she’d done, later. Now, she needed to rest her aching head.

Caroline awoke several hours later, consciousness gradually returning. But not her memory. She let her gaze sweep the room, looking for clues to who she really was. With a sigh, she sat up.

The rest had given her the energy to indulge her curiosity a little more. After washing her face in the luxurious connecting bath, she returned to the bedroom and opened the closet door.

A ripple of pleasure ran through her as she examined the rows of clothes hung neatly in the large closet. My, I have great taste…and expensive, too. She recognized designer names on many of the dresses.

Since she couldn’t remember buying or wearing any of the outfits, it was like having an entire new wardrobe. She wouldn’t have to shop for months. Wrong.

How could she forget the baby?

And the changes that would occur in the next few months. She groaned. Even the clothes she was wearing were a little snug, uncomfortably so. Before too long, they wouldn’t fit her at all, and she’d have to start shopping all over again.

Not necessarily an unhappy thought, she realized with a grin. What woman didn’t enjoy a little shopping? Sliding her hands into the pockets of her navy slacks, she felt the card Max Daniels had given her.

Resolution filled her. She had something more important than shopping to do right now. It was time to take back her life. And she would start with Max Daniels. She ignored the thought that she was starting with him because she wanted him to be the father of her child. She had to start somewhere.

She crossed the room to the telephone.

“Daniels Vacation Homes.”

Caroline frowned at the sexy female voice that answered the phone. “I’m calling Max Daniels.”

“Max is out of the office at the moment. May I take a message?”

“This is Caroline Adkins. I need to—”

“He just came in. One moment, please.”

“Caroline?”

She released a sigh at the sound of his voice. It was as if she’d feared she wouldn’t find him again. With no memory to support their relationship, she only had those few minutes at the hospital.

“Hi, Max. I—I wanted to invite you to dinner.”

The silence that followed her request left a hollow feeling in her stomach.

“To dinner?” he finally asked.

“Yes.” When he said nothing else, she asked, “Is that an odd request? Do you not eat?”

“Of course I eat, but you never even admitted you had family in the area, much less offered to introduce me.” There was an antagonism in his voice.

“Look, I don’t remember what I did…or why. I’m just trying to figure out what happened. I thought I’d start with you. If you don’t want to talk to me, then say so.” She could match his reluctance any day, she assured herself. Especially if she didn’t think about him.

“Of course I want to talk to you. I want to know what happened as much as you do. And whether the baby is mine.”

The doubt in his voice was like a blow. “You sounded a lot surer of that fact yesterday.”

“That’s before I realized I was one of a crowd.”

Even as anger filled her, it was tempered by understanding. “It came as a shock to me, too.” When he said nothing else, she asked, “Did I ever mention anyone else?”

“No. Like I said, I thought you had recently moved here. That you knew no one.”

This discussion was going nowhere. She returned to her original question. “Will you come to dinner? I need to ask you a lot of questions.” She didn’t intend to plead, but she recognized a hint of persuasiveness in her voice.

“Tell me when.”

“Tonight?”

“I can’t. I’ve already made an appointment with prospective clients.”

He could’ve sounded a little unhappy that he couldn’t come right away. “Tomorrow night?”

Letting out a gusty sigh, he agreed. “What time?”

“Seven o’clock. And would you mind not sounding so put upon? I have no intention of torturing you!” she snapped, any patience she might normally have had having disintegrated between her headache and her heartache.

“It’s too late. You already have.” He hung up without waiting for a response.

“Oh yeah?” she yelled into the dead phone. “Well, just wait until tomorrow night!”

How dare that man act as if she’d intentionally hurt him? She was suffering just as much as him.

Recalling her bout with morning sickness, she decided she was suffering more. She strode to the closet and her wonderful new wardrobe. He thought he’d been tortured before? She’d make sure the torture continued.

“Caroline?” Mrs. Lamb called softly, rapping on the door before opening it. “Oh!” she exclaimed as Caroline appeared at the closet door.

“Hi. Did you need something?”

“I have a luncheon tray for you,” the housekeeper explained, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

“I could’ve come downstairs,” Caroline assured her.

“You’re always so thoughtful, child, but you need your rest. What are you doing out of bed?”

“Trying to decide which outfit is my most killer one.”

“Killer?” Mrs. Lamb’s face was a perfect picture of puzzlement.

“Don’t worry. I’m not plotting a murder. I don’t think. I’m wanting to, uh, look my best. By the way, my dinner guest is coming tomorrow night. Is that okay?”

“Sure is. Do I know him?”

“His name is Max Daniels.” Caroline studied the housekeeper’s expression, but she saw no sign of recognition. “You’ve never heard of him?”

“No. Should I have?”

“He’s one of the three… Has anyone told you I’m pregnant?”

Mrs. Lamb almost dropped the tray and Caroline rushed forward to support her.

“Oh, my stars. Are you serious? I can’t believe it. Isn’t that wonderful? You and Chelsea will have babies almost the same age. I—who’s the father?”

Mrs. Lamb’s abrupt question showed her sudden awareness of Caroline’s situation. With a self-conscious shrug, Caroline said, “I don’t know. The amnesia.”

“Well, surely he’ll come forward. I mean, a man should be responsible for his actions.”

“That’s the problem,” Caroline replied. “Three men have claimed responsibility for—for my baby.”

“Three? Oh, my stars! Caroline!”

Taking the shaking tray from the housekeeper’s hands, Caroline set it on the lamp table. “Lambie, I need help.”

“Why, I’ll do whatever I—I don’t see how—I mean, what are you going to do?”

“I need to find out what was going on in my life two months ago.”

As if her knees had collapsed, Mrs. Lamb sank onto the bed. “Oh, my stars.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Two months ago? A little over two months ago, you had a fight with your father.”

“A fight? What about?”

“I don’t know. But the next morning, you called a taxi, and you left.”

“A taxi? I don’t have a car?”

“Of course you have a car. A Mercedes. Your father insisted, saying they were the safest. He buys you a new one every year.”

She kept her feelings about her father’s domination to herself. “Then why a taxi?”

“I don’t know. You had a bag packed and you hugged me, saying not to worry, you were going on a vacation.”

“Did I tell you where I was going?”

“No. You left a note for your father, but it didn’t tell him anything, ‘cause he questioned me.”

She had some questions for her father the next time she saw him, too. “Did I call you after I left? And how long was I gone?”

“You called once and told me you were having a good time. And you left a message for your father.”

“What message?”

Mrs. Lamb screwed up her face, as if trying to remember, and finally said, “You said you were proving him wrong.”

Caroline stared at her. “That’s it? Nothing for my mother?”

With a surprised look on her face, Mrs. Lamb said, “Why, no. You don’t—I mean, you love your mother, of course, but Mrs. Adkins is so busy…” She trailed off and looked away.

“I see. And when I came back? Did I ever say where I’d been or what I’d done?”

“No. But you seemed sad. Once I found you crying, and that’s unusual for you. Why, as a little girl, you’d fall and hurt yourself, but you’d never cry. Unlike Chelsea. Chelsea learned to shed tears whenever she wanted something. Tears just drive your father up the wall.”

Caroline could believe that. But she wanted more information about herself, not her father or her sister. “Did I explain why I was crying?”

“No.”

“Did I receive any strange phone calls? Or letters?” But she remembered Max asking for her telephone number. He wouldn’t have called her.

“No.”

“Did I date anyone after I came back?”

“You would go to social events with Adrian and Prescott. You did that before you left, too.”

“Social events?”

“You know, to the Save the Whales dinner and dance, the opera, the symphony opening night. There was a real nice picture in the paper yesterday of you and Adrian.”

“Why?” Caroline demanded, suddenly afraid she might have announced her engagement.

“You were dancing at the opera ball.”

Caroline sat down beside Mrs. Lamb, feeling a little weak herself. And her head was beginning to ache. Again.

“You’d better eat some lunch, child. You don’t look too well. And you’ve got a baby to think about now.”

Caroline smiled faintly. It was too easy to forget that she was carrying a child inside her, since she couldn’t remember the event that had brought it about. But Mrs. Lamb was right. She needed to eat.

“Let’s take the tray back downstairs. I’ve had enough eating in bed to last me awhile.”

And she needed to calm down again before she faced her father. He had some explaining to do.

SHE DIDN’T GET TO ASK her father any questions that night. Long before he’d returned from the office, she’d gone to bed, exhausted. Her mother had gotten home around four, but her vagueness made Caroline wonder if she even remembered that her daughter had come home from the hospital that day.

Even so, Caroline tried to question her at the dinner table that evening.

“Uh, Mother?”

“Yes, dear?” Amelia replied distractedly, examining the salad she was eating.

“Do you know why I argued with my father?”

“Did you? I have no idea, dear. You argue with him frequently, even though I tell you you shouldn’t.” She took a bite of salad and chewed it consideringly. “I don’t think Mrs. Lamb is using a dietetic dressing, even though I asked her to.”

“Please think, Mother. It’s important.”

“I know it is. I gained two pounds last month, and I’m sure it’s the salad dressing.”

“No, I mean arguing with—with my father.” She had no idea what she normally called him.

Amelia looked at her blankly. “About what? Was he difficult when he picked you up?”

“No, not today,” Caroline said, hoping her patience could withstand more conversation with her mother. “Mrs. Lamb said that I had a fight with him a little over two months ago, and then I left.”

“Did you? Where did you go?”

Caroline sighed. “I don’t know. Didn’t you notice I was gone?”

“Hmm. Two months ago? I think that’s when I went to that spa in Arizona.” She laid down her fork and rang the dinner bell that rested on the table by her plate.

Mrs. Lamb opened the door that led to the kitchen. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Mrs. Lamb, didn’t I go to that spa at the end of June?” Amelia asked.

“Was that when I left, while Mother was at the spa?” Caroline added, hoping to clarify matters.

“That’s right. Your mother left the day before you did.”

“Where did Caroline go, Mrs. Lamb? She wants to know.”

The housekeeper looked at Caroline and then her mother. “I don’t know, ma’am. She didn’t say.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lamb,” Caroline said, dismissing the woman before her mother remembered the salad dressing.

A call to her sister didn’t produce any better results.

“I have no time to keep up with your social schedule, Caroline. You disappeared just after I announced my pregnancy. I assumed you had left in a fit of jealousy. But I had no idea you’d go so far as to get pregnant yourself. Couldn’t you let me be first in something?”

Having determined that her sister knew nothing about those lost two weeks, Caroline quickly smoothed her feathers and hung up the phone. Mrs. Lamb confirmed that her father had called and would be working late, which seemed to be a common occurrence.

No wonder no one knew anything. They barely saw each other. All of them together in her hospital room must have been their version of a family reunion. And not a very happy one.

Caroline crawled into bed and rested on the pillow, hoping its softness would soothe her head.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow she would confront her father. Tomorrow she would ask more questions, find out about those elusive two weeks.

Tomorrow, she would see Max again.