'Kelly,' Mrs. Connors called. 'Someone's here to see you.'
A pair of suntanned, shorts-clad legs appeared under the umbrella. 'Who is it?'
At the sound of Kelly's voice, a hard lump formed in my throat. Dave Livingston hadn't been making it up, I realized in sudden relief. Kelly really was here-here and safe both. At least, her voice sounded fine.
'It's me, Kelly,' I managed, forcing words out over a fist-sized, throat-closing knot that threatened to cut off all ability to speak or breathe. 'It's your dad.'
I don't know what I expected. Maybe I thought Kelly would come running up to me with her arms outstretched and her blond braids flying behind her the way they used to when she was little and we were all still living out at Lake Tapps. Instead, the tanned legs stopped moving altogether. She stayed where she was as if frozen, her face and most of her body concealed behind and beneath the spread of that mammoth umbrella.
'Daddy?' she returned uncertainly. 'Is it re-ally you? What are you doing here? How did you find me?'
I shot a triumphant glance in Mrs. Connors' direction. With her unblinking violet gaze piercing into me, I somehow caught myself and managed to remember Ralph Ames' cautioning words. Don't blow it, I told myself. Don't say something you'll regret.
With laudable self-restraint, I avoided blurting out the indignant, accusatory things I'd planned to say, such as-'I came to get you and send your ass back home.' That would never do.
My problem with telling lies has always been that I'm incapable of carrying the process off with any kind of good grace. As soon as I try it, something in my facial expression gives me away. Generally speaking, that's probably a good thing. It keeps me out of poker games and politics.
This time, though, I did it. From somewhere inside me, I summoned up a set of more acceptable weasel words, ones that allowed both Kelly and me a little room to maneuver. 'I came to see how you were,' I returned carefully, 'to see if you were all right, or if there was anything you needed.'
The little girl, Amber, stopped pushing her bulldozer and sat gazing up at Kelly-a Kelly whose body and face were still obscured from view. When she didn't move, I did, starting to close the distance between us, but Marjorie Connors' surprisingly strong suntanned arm barred the way.
'Wait!' she commanded. 'You wait right here.'
I stopped as ordered. For the longest time, Kelly stayed where she was as well. Then, finally, she came shooting out from behind the umbrella, running toward me just like in the old days.
'Oh, Daddy!' Kelly cried, launching herself at me from four feet away and throwing her arms around my neck in a flying tackle that threatened to carry me over backward. She hugged me and kissed me at the same time. It was exactly like the old days-with two exceptions, one minor and one major. The minor one was easy. The blond braids were gone; Kelly wasn't my little girl anymore. I could live with that.
The major one, I wasn't so sure I could survive. As soon as she stepped out from behind the concealing umbrella, I could see that Kelly Louise Beaumont was pregnant.
Profoundly and undeniably pregnant. Damn!
I held her close, but all the while my mind was on fire. Where the hell is that lousy little son of a bitch of a singing actor now? I wondered. Just let me get my hands on that worthless fucker and…
What is it the Good Book says? Ask, and it shall be given unto you? Sure enough. Jeremy Todd Cartwright III-that no-good jerk who thought he was going to be my future son-in-law-chose that exact moment to make his grand entrance, driving into the yard in a worn old rattletrap Econoline van with three other people in it. He stopped directly beside us.
Kelly was standing on tiptoes with her arms wrapped around my neck, still laughing and crying, while tears ran down her face and dripped onto my shirt.
'Daddy,' she said, taking me by the hand and leading me toward the van. 'I'm so glad to see you. I wanted to call you and tell you, but I didn't know what to say, where to start. But come meet Jeremy. You're going to love him.'
Sure I was! Like hell I was!
Unwillingly, I allowed myself to be led forward. We stopped by the driver's door of the beat-out van just as a long, tall kid in jeans and worn Birkenstocks clambered out. He was six-five if he was an inch, well-built, good looking, and impossibly clean-cut. The son of a bitch didn't have long hair. Or an earring.
He went around to the back of the van, opened the door, and then carefully handed out a series of loaded grocery bags to the other three passengers, who dutifully carried them into the house. Amber toddled up to one of the three-a woman whose hair color matched the child's-and followed her up onto the deck. Only then did Jeremy Todd Cartwright turn around and come back to Kelly and me.
He stopped directly in front of me and looked me in the eye. He didn't even have the good grace to look embarrassed.
'Jeremy,' Kelly said breathlessly. 'Look who's here. It's my dad.'
She was holding me by the hand and blubbering joyfully, oblivious to everything around her, including the fact that it was all I could do to keep from reaching out and punching that goddamned upstart kid smack in the face.
'Jeremy, my father, J.P. Beaumont,' Kelly continued. 'Dad, Jeremy Cartwright. We're getting married Monday afternoon.'
And Jeremy Todd Cartwright III, who couldn't have been a day over twenty-three, after one quick questioning look in Kelly's direction, turned back to me, nodded politely but warily, and extended his hand.
'Glad to meet you, Mr. Beaumont,' he said.
His toothpaste smile pissed me off. I wanted nothing more than the chance to rearrange his mouthful of too-white, too-straight teeth. But Kelly is my daughter-my only daughter. She's had me wrapped around her little finger from very early on, from the first moment she realized she owned a finger. Jeremy Todd Cartwright put out his hand, and, so help me, I shook it.
What the hell else could I do?
CHAPTER 3
After that initial meeting, I didn't hang around Live Oak Farm for very long. I didn't have a hell of a lot more to say. Not only that, it was close to six when I was supposed to meet Alexis and her friend. Besides, I didn't feel particularly welcome, especially since nobody bothered to invite me inside where dinner was about to be served to the motley group of boarders. I eventually grasped the none-too-subtle message that, without prior arrangement, food was not available for unexpected, drop-by guests. Not that I was particularly hungry. Finding out that your unmarried daughter is pregnant works as a natural and amazingly effective appetite suppressant.
I still didn't understand Marjorie Connors' place in the scheme of things, but she seemed to call the shots in addition to running a very tight ship as far as meals were concerned. Saying he was glad to meet me but that he had to get ready for the Green Show, Jeremy hurried into the house and left me alone with Kelly.
'Whatever that is,' I muttered disagreeably behind him.
'The Green Show? It's sort of a pre-show entertainment,' Kelly explained, 'outside, in the courtyard. Jeremy's in both Majestic and Shrew, but he's also a very talented musician.'
'Really. What does he play?'
'Lots of things,' she answered proudly. 'His specialty is the krummhorn.'
The what? I had no idea what a krummhorn was, and I regretted asking. I didn't want to know. Why couldn't Jeremy be the kind of upright young man who slaved away over an IBMPC?
Kelly appeared embarrassed that I wasn't invited to dinner. She attempted to apologize. 'If we had known earlier you would be here, Marjorie could have set an extra place.'
Knowing Marjorie, that struck me as a narrow escape. 'Don't worry about it,' I said. 'I'm meeting a friend for dinner, then we're seeing a play, Romeo and Juliet.'
'You were lucky to get tickets this late,' Kelly said. 'How did you manage that?'
'My friend took care of it,' I said.
'Who's your friend? Someone connected with the Festival?'
Which brought me right back to Alexis Downey and the problem I had been worrying about since before we
