Page 22 of This Baby Business
“The airport issouthof San Francisco,” Frank said with his mock patience. “Going to San Francisco is out of our way.”
She supposed that was a dig at her fantastic sense of direction. “But the emergency screening isn’t until Monday.”
“We need to check in at the hotel and get situated. I have to work on my strategy. You don’t expect me to give up when I’m this close to getting her back? Just watch. Once we’ve got him surrounded from all sides, Levi is going to fold like a cheap umbrella.”
Frank made it sound like he was planning an attack at daylight.
And then what?she wanted to ask him. They’d have Grace, but she wouldn’t have her fatherorher mother in her life. Irene loved her granddaughter, but she wasn’t exactly in the position to start over again at the age of sixty-two. These were supposed to be their so-called golden years as Frank neared retirement. They’d planned to travel and visit the children and grandchildren scattered all over the United States.
Not this.
She hadn’t wanted a legal battle, because she’d already seen how dirty they could be but she had one now. Having been through one divorce, Irene knew how ugly this could get if they allowed it. But Frank wouldn’t listen to her. She wanted to believe that all she needed to change his mind was one good argument and he’d bend. Proof that Grace would be safe. He’d go back to being the same solid and strong man she’d fallen for all those years ago. A man raising his daughter, Sandy, on his own. Surely he could understand why Levi might want to do the same.
Reminding herself that Frank was still grieving, she put a metaphorical sock in it. Time to pull up her big-girl pants. Despite the fact that his grief seemed a solid wedge between them, the way they were drifting farther and farther apart might be her fault. She had to be more patient with Frank. More compassionate. Caring. Her therapist told her that men dealt with grief differently. They needed to fix it. Put things back in order. And having that goal gave them a way to handle the overwhelming pain. Unfortunately, Frank’s single-minded goal since discovering that Sandy had lied to them about Grace’s father had been to punish the man who’d actually fathered their granddaughter. As if it was his fault. Irene figured that was easier than having to face the fact that Sandy had let them both down one last time.
* * *
The drivetoFortune took longer than she’d anticipated— it was an hour or more before they pulled into the bedroom community. Considering all the wealth and privilege gathered in Silicon Valley, she figured Frank had booked them the kind of hotel where she’d be almost regretful to go back home.
But Frank pulled into the Budget Inn, a place that looked like a home to the traveling businessman. “Here we are.”
“This is it?” Not her idea of an inn. She tried to keep the dismay out of her tone. The least Frank could do was find a decent place for them to stay in this beautiful town.
“You said you wanted to stay in an inn, and this one was a good deal. Don’t worry, everything here must be nice.” He patted her hand. “Besides, we have to save our pennies if we’re going to move here. You’ve seen the price of real estate.”
“Don’t start with that again. We can’t afford to live here.”
“You never know.” Frank popped the trunk latch. “But the main idea is for Levi tothinkwe’re moving here. That will rattle him good.”
Frank didn’t seem to see that his logic was circular and didn’t make much sense to someone not deep into the mind of Frank Lane.
Later, after they’d checked in and hauled up all their luggage, and Frank was situated in front of the TV losing himself in another action thriller, Irene stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. At sixty-two years of age the laugh lines around her mouth, and the crows feet were deeper. Proof that she’d lived a busy and happy life. Two marriages, four children. One between them, two of her own and Sandy, her stepdaughter.
She’d taken pains to take care of herself over the years by meticulously watching her diet and exercising. Yoga was her saving grace these days, not only building her muscles, but also soothing her grief and pain and giving her a simple peace.
She couldn’t change the past. But she wasn’t done living. She still craved Frank’s attention and affection. Loved him even if he wasn’t lovable these days. When she met with Levi and Grace at the local park, her love and allegiance to Frank would cause her to do everything in her power to heal this situation. Levi, who seemed a reasonable—if rather cold—man, would listen to her words. And Frank would be overjoyed that she’d taken this step for him and see how much she loved him. Understand he still had so much to live for.
With that in mind, Irene dressed in a classy black one-piece swimsuit. It emphasized the fact that she’d been gifted with good genes and maintained an impressive yoga regimen. She walked out of the bathroom and stood by the TV screen in the muted light. Arnold Schwarzenegger had just indicated that he’d be back.
“I saw that there’s a hot tub downstairs. That will be so good for your aching back and tired muscles. Want to join me?” She gave him a wink and a wiggle.
He barely looked at her. “Nah, I just need to rest my back by being horizontal.”
And don’t forget sleeping all day.
“Well…that works for me, too, you know.” Funny, they used to spend much of their time horizontal and together.
He seemed to ignore that. “Have fun.”
Apparently the cheerful and optimistic message ofThe Terminatorwas more appealing to Frank than his own wife.
CHAPTER11
Carly
Ispent mostof the day begging Grace to stop crying, taking her for three walks in the stroller because that seemed to be the only thing that worked and giving her a sponge bath after Grace took the pear-flavored organically sourced gourmet baby food I spoon-fed her and put it in her hair, in her ears and up her nose. How she managed to do that I would never know, but once those chubby hands started flailing, it was like a mystery wrapped in an enigma. The UPS guy had delivered three packages—one of them I’d had to sign for when Grace was in the middle of testing out the great set of lungs she’d inherited.
I’d worked at the sewing machine during one of Grace’s power naps and pulled apart the little baby jeans I’d bought on a whim. They hadn’t fit right—just not well designed, in my humble opinion. And way too…plain. But I saw possibility. I added ribbon and lace and a cute hem. Then took several more photos of Grace wearing lacy hipster jeans and uploaded them to the blog, continuing to bank on the theory that a picture could take the place of words. Because the writing…well, it felt like bleeding sometimes.
