made. Yeah,” he said softly, “this one's different. She's the first one, and…” a smile flashed across his face, “the last.”
“Sounds like congratulations are in order.”
Carey laughed, a carefree, boyish sound Allen had never heard. “Thanks. A little premature. I haven't officially asked the lady yet. But thanks, anyway.”
When Carey called Tuesday evening, a very different tone of voice greeted him. “My Honeybear sounds happy,” he remarked, stretching out on the hotel room bed.
“The understatement of the century. They renewed my note, after all! Jason called early this morning. Can you
“Amazing,” he replied calmly.
“This, Carey, my sweet, means I and my business will be totally solid by the end of the year, thriving and out of debt. It was like some
“Probably more like a calculated business decision,” Carey said. “That Evans fellow probably had second thoughts after he had time to sleep on it.”
“Do you think so?” Molly queried. “It doesn't sound like Jason. Do you think I should call him back and ask him?” she went on, uncertainty coloring her voice. “This morning I didn't ask any questions. Just said, thanks, and
“I wouldn't,” Carey quickly interjected. “Hell, it's only business with those guys. No sense in questioning their motives. Bad for their karma. No, my luscious long-lost lover, ask me instead how the shooting went today.”
“How?”
“Terrific and finished.”
“Finished! You
“My accountants sounded almost as pleased as you. Remember, I had the very best incentive. Rode the crew like an overseer.”
“So when will you be down?”
“Tomorrow, late afternoon probably. I have some editing to do tomorrow morning. Tell Carrie she can pick out the place to eat tomorrow night. I'm looking forward to taking her and her mom out to dinner.”
“You always did like kids, didn't you? I remember you helping me baby-sit a few times, and the kids always liked you best. You should have had some of your own.”
The silence was abrupt.
“Oh, God, I'm sorry,” Molly apologized. “I forgot.”
“Don't apologize. I shouldn't react that way. You'd think after all these years,” he finished with a small sigh, “I'd be reconciled.”
“The government's still stonewalling it on the Agent Orange birth defects, I see,” Molly hesitantly said, wondering if it was better or worse to talk about it.
“Along with all the other side effects. No one's ever going to admit fault and that's why the vets have taken it to court. At least it'll be out in the open there and the facts will be on record.
“In the meantime, I've seen Jim Hill's daughter and Leroy Gazinski's son and I'm not taking any chances, regardless of the government's assurances Agent Orange is harmless.”
“I suppose you're being sensible.” She didn't dare ask what problems the two children he mentioned had because his voice had broken when he spoke of them.
“I'm not being sensible, I'm terrified of the consequences… and sometime when you have a couple of weeks I'll fill you in on my outrage,” he said harshly. “But let's not ruin my really great mood with this conversation. So-tell me what you want to do when I come down. We could take Carrie shopping or go to the zoo, or both, or something else. What do little girls like to do?”
“She's not fussy. How long can you stay?” Molly understood his anger, his reservations, and his need to set it aside.
“A couple of days this time. We have to talk,” he said seriously. “Which reminds me. Do I reserve a hotel room or can I stay with you? What exactly is the protocol involving moms with eight-year-old daughters?”
“I want you to stay here.”
“Sure it's okay?”
“This is a very progressive, liberated woman you're speaking to.”
“You're sure?” He still sounded uncertain.
“Besides, I've a spare bedroom for you.”
“Is that how you remained celibate for two years? I warn you, I sleepwalk at night.”
“Sounds marvelous. My room is directly across the hall.”
“How very convenient.”
“I thought you'd like it.”
“Are we going to play games?”
“I don't know if I can remember any.”
“I'll remind you.”
“You're probably thinking of Italian countesses or the French model, or-”
“Honeybear,” he broke in, his voice caressing, “only your games are unforgettable.”
“Your reputation's showing, Carey Fersten,” Molly replied. “You're way too smooth for a small-town girl like me.”
“My reputation's much overrated,” he retorted mildly.
“You mean you really haven't slept with every woman between eighteen and forty in the world?” But under her bantering was a very real jibe.
“Sweetheart, give me a break.”
“Really?” His voice was so sincere she began to doubt all the stories.
“Sure. I swore off eighteen-year-olds a long time ago.”
“Carey Fersten! I'm going to beat you!”
“Now we haven't tried that before-that's more British boarding school background-but what the hey, if you want to…”
“You're a libertine.”
“And available,” he murmured. Her jealousy warmed the heart of this man whose heart had remained untouched for a decade.
“Damn you, Carey! I don't want to be one of a cast of thousands passing through your bedroom.” Her resentment was real this time, heated and fiery.
“I burned my bedroom Rolodex this morning. The stench was spiritually bracing.”
“You did? For me?”
“Of course,” he said mildly, “you're my Honeybear.”
From that point the conversation became scandalously amorous. Within minutes of hanging up the phone, Carey, prompted by a healthy libido, decided the editing could wait for a day or two. Leaving Allen with a few crisp orders, Carey was airborne in twenty minutes, copiloting the Lear, only thirty minutes away from Minneapolis/St. Paul International.
CHAPTER 20
W hile Carey was cruising high above the cumulous clouds obscuring the green midwest landscape below, Molly was having a heated telephone conversation with Bart.
“I'd like to come over to see Carrie,” he said in that demanding tone that always grated on her nerves.
“I told you to give me some warning on these visits.”
“That's why I'm calling first.”
“That's not what I had in mind,” Molly replied sardonically. “A day or two, not minutes.”
“Come off it, Molly. If you're not busy and Carrie's not busy, why be pedantic?”
Molly thought of her daughter and sighed resignedly. “She rode her bike to the corner store and won't be back
