'Daddy, look. Her eyes are opening.'
'Pippa?
'Hello, Luke. You really were there, all the time?'
'All the time,' he said huskily.
He stood back to leave mother and daughter alone. Besides, he needed to be unobserved for a moment, because suddenly his eyes were blurred and his throat ached. Josie hurried out to spread the good news, and he went to kneel by Pippa again.
'I heard you,' she whispered.
'Then you know how much I love you, Pippa.'
She smiled. 'I always wondered.'
'How much did you actually hear?'
'A lot, especially at the end.'
'I didn't want you to leave, but I thought maybe you had no choice.'
'I thought I didn't. But then I heard you, and I knew I couldn't bear to leave you. I never thought you'd make it easy for me.'
'I told you I'd do anything you wanted. I was even going to promise to let Frank and Elly be a part of her life. They could teach her all the sensible things I don't know about, at least until I've had a chance to learn them. But I'd much rather you taught me.'
Her lips twitched. 'I wouldn't dream of it. One of us being sensible is enough. Never change, my darling.'
'Never,' he promised. 'For the rest of our lives.''
'For the rest of our lives.'
Josie stood at one of the plate-glass windows at LAX airport, staring at the planes basking in the April sun. She was frowning as though the sight displeased her, which it did. For despite the bustle of activity there was no sign of the plane she wanted.
'I hate it when things are late,' she said fretfully.
'Only half an hour, darling,' Pippa said, laughing at her daughter's disgusted face.
'But Uncle Frank, Aunt Elly and Sam are only going to be here two weeks, and we've lost half an hour.'
'Don't worry, it'll probably be late leaving, too,' Luke soothed her. 'So it'll work out even.'
'I'm going to find out,' Josie said. 'No, you stay here, Mom. You shouldn't walk any more than you have to.'
'Darling, I'm only four months gone. It's not for ages yet.'
'Josie's right,' Luke said. 'We'll all stay here. There'll be another announcement soon.'
'Mom, if it's a boy, can we call him George?'
'You want to call your brother after a dog?' Luke demanded.
'He was a nice dog,' Josie said defiantly.
'Just the same-'
'Will you two hush?' Pippa said. 'I don't want to hear this argument again until he or she is born.'
'He,' Luke said firmly. 'I want a boy.'
'You're a male chauvinist whatsit!' Josie informed him.
'No, I'm not,' he defended himself. 'It's just that I've already got one daughter, and my nerves couldn't stand another.' But he kissed the top of her head as he said it.
'I wonder what Sam's like,' Josie mused.
'I only know what Elly told me,' Pippa told her. 'He's eleven years old, they've been fostering him since Christmas, and it's working out very well. Apparently he's quiet and a bit shy, but Elly thinks you'll soon change all that.'
'You bet!' Josie confirmed. 'I'm going to see what's happening.' She bounded away.
Pippa turned to say something to her husband and found him brooding. It was unlike him, and had happened once or twice before, she realized.
'What is it, darling? Worried about the restaurants?'
'Nope. Profits are up. Your Siberian cherries are a big hit. Yesterday somebody congratulated me on my 'brilliant creation.' I came that close to taking the credit.'
She chuckled. She believed him.
'And Ritchie's over the moon at the impact you made on the TV program,' Luke added.
'So what is it?'
'Just a passing thought.'
'A thought? You?' she teased. 'Best let it pass, then. You wouldn't know what to do with it.'
'You're so clever, Mrs. Danton. Funny how good that sounds. 'Mrs.' It used to sound like a padlock. Now I don't care if they lock the door and throw away the key, as long as I'm on the inside with you and Josie and George.'
'So what's on your mind?'
'Just that I wonder how it happened. Or rather why. I've sometimes had this strange feeling that you only married me for Josie's sake.'
'Really? Well, it probably does you a lot of good to wonder.'
'I thought you'd say that. You might even be right. Keep him on his toes. Let him worry that he's only second best.'
'You're forgetting George.'
'Third best.' He waited for her to deny it.
'Darling,' she chuckled, 'you really must get out of this habit of thinking joined-up thoughts. You're not used to it, and it's scrambling your brains.'
'So?'
'So who says you're third best?'
'Well, you haven't said I'm not,' he told her.
'Maybe that's because I can't get a word in edgewise.'
He looked at her. She looked at him.
'You aren't going to tell me, are you?'
Pippa kissed him tenderly, and smiled.
'Probably not,' she said.
Lucy Gordon
