The Dad Next Door

“Nothing, thanks. I’m okay. I had something or other on the plane. In one of those little plastic dishes. It wasn’t too bad, and I have to watch my weight.” She glanced over Kate, assuring herself, Kate felt sure, that she was the thinner of the two. “I suppose you’re wondering why I popped in like this.” Marsha sat down in the big chair by the fireplace.

“It did cross my mind,” Kate said, sitting down opposite. Marsha was really so lovely and so poised and confident. No wonder Ian had fallen in love with her. Was he still?

“I…don’t know if Ian has mentioned it or not, but I…” Marsha began.

“Ian mentioned that you planned to marry again,” Kate said. “Congratulations. I hope you will be very happy.”

“I will be. I am.” Marsha smiled her beautiful smile. She held out her elegant left hand. Marsha’s slim hands, always beautifully manicured, made Kate want to put hers in her pockets. “You see,” Marsha continued. “We didn’t wait until June, which was the original plan.”

“Oh? You’ve moved it up?”

“Very much so. We’ve already done it.” And Kate really looked at the hand, with its sparkling diamond solitaire and slender circlet of diamonds that was the wedding ring. “Chet, my husband, is down in Virginia now, explaining things to his family.”

“Wonderful,” Kate said, since that was obviously what Marsha expected her to say. At the same time her heart plummeted. Ian was now no longer liable for alimony payments. He could put Raymond in a boarding school immediately if he wanted to.

“What, er, made you speed it up?”

“Several things. It seemed foolish to wait for a June wedding when it’s a second time around for both of us. Did Ian tell you who I was going to marry?”

“No, he didn’t.” Kate thought it best not to mention that Ian had referred to him as Mr. Right.

“Chet Burgess. Chester Burgess.” Marsha paused, and Kate realized she was supposed to recognize the name.

“I’m afraid that doesn’t ring a bell,” she said apologetically.

“Well, perhaps it wouldn’t,” Marsha conceded. “Chet is with State. The State Department. You’ve probably seen him on TV. He sometimes makes statements, you know, about the nation’s position on this or that or the other thing. He’s an undersecretary. Not that he needs to work. The Burgess family is old money. But all the Burgess men serve the nation in some way—army, navy, government, whatever. I’ll love living in Washington. I mean D.C., of course. Chet and I have bought this perfect little gem of a house in Georgetown. It cost the earth. It’s going to be a wonderful life. I’ve finally got things right.” Her lovely face was glowing.

“Good,” Kate said woodenly. “I’m happy for you, Marsha. I think I should mention that Ian took Raymond to see the pediatrician. I’d better prepare you. He looks pretty awful. He got in a fight at school yesterday. He’s all bruised.”

“A fight. Good heavens. Well, I guess boys will be boys. Ian has him in a public school, hasn’t he?”

“He has been, yes,” Kate said, deciding not to mention the homeschooling plan.

“Well, I can take him off Ian’s hands now that I’m married again. Chet…” She paused, as if deciding how to phrase her next sentence. “Chet is very family. I mean he—he wants a family.” Her tone implied that she didn’t quite understand this but was willing to accept it.

“What do you mean, ‘take him off Ian’s hands’?” Kate asked, knowing the answer before it came.

“Why, I can take him back to D.C. with me, of course. Chet’s prepared to adopt him. Legally. He’ll inherit from Chet. When I explained to Chet how difficult it had been for me to be without my son, he understood immediately.”

Kate felt her mouth go dry. “I thought,” she said carefully, “that Raymond was placed in Ian’s custody at the divorce. Because you…didn’t want his care.”

“Yes, he was. But that’s all changed now. I want him back. He’s my child. I…have to get him back.” Suddenly she sat up very straight and looked squarely at Kate.

“Woman to woman, Kate. Wasn’t your time being pregnant the awfulest, most dreary time in your whole life?”

“No,” Kate gasped. “I loved being pregnant. It was…wonderful.” She just managed to keep from saying, “I wish I were pregnant now. I want Joy to have a sister, as I have.”

Marsha stared at her, confusion in her lovely eyes. “I…don’t understand that,” she murmured at last. “Well,” she added briskly, “it’s academic now. My parents are elated, of course, at my marriage. My father—he’s a retired army colonel, you know—wants Raymond in a good military school. Chet agrees. Chet is so hipped on family.” A shadow of worry came and went in her violet eyes.

“Of course, I promised Chet we would have our own children—child, but later. Not now. We deserve a bit of time together…without…” Her voice dwindled off.

Kate held her peace with an effort. She wanted to scream at the other woman, reprimanding her for her selfishness. Chet wanted a family and Marsha was willing to provide him with a ready-made son—Raymond, who would be warehoused in some cold, austere military school, to be brought out on occasion for display. No longer able to stay seated, Kate got up.

“Marsha, please excuse me. I have a million things to do. Ian will be back soon. There are—there are magazines here on the coffee table.” She indicated the littered table and fled to the kitchen. She stood by the kitchen sink, her hands gripping the edge of it.

Oh, Ian, don’t let this happen.

Chapter Three

When Ian returned with the children they came in the back door, Ian having parked his van in his own driveway and cut across the backyards. Kate was surprised that they came in so quietly to the service porch, then she saw Raymond’s scowl. She quickly shut the door between the service porch and kitchen.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, starting to help Joy take off her wet snowsuit.

“You’d never guess,” Raymond hissed angrily. “She made me take off all my clothes! And she took a picture!” He flung his damp watch cap into the corner.

“Cool it, Ray,” Ian pleaded, picking up the watch cap and draping it over the edge of the washer. “The ‘she’ my son so disrespectfully refers to is Dr. Madison. And Dr. Madison explained about the picture. It’s a childabuse precaution. Raymond is one big bruise. Doctors have a certain responsibility.”

“It was gross! I’m twelve years old! And there’s no point. I’m not going back to that dumb school.”

“You are also covered with bruises and abrasions and the doctor was only doing what she’s required to do, and—“

“And Dad has to go over to the school, but I’m not going back!”

“All right, Ray, I’ve agreed to that, but as the doctor pointed out, I have an obligation here. The school authorities should be told. It might save some other boy from getting the same treatment you got. You certainly understand that, don’t you?”

“Oh, I guess so,” Raymond admitted reluctantly.

Kate stroked his tousled head. “Look, Raymond, you don’t have to go back, so what do you care? You’ll never see those kids again.” His bruises looked far worse today.

“Yeah, okay,” he said in a small voice.

Kate wondered nervously how she was going to break the news to both of them that Marsha was waiting in the living room. She knew that Raymond regarded his mother, whom he always referred to as “Marsha,” with an odd mixture of natural love and cautious distrust. And Ian? What did Ian really feel about Marsha? He had always been so careful not to betray his feelings.

Tommy said, “Mommy, we don’t need a snack. Ian got us some big pretzels from this vendor guy—”

“And apple juice,” Joy interrupted. “The thick kind, you know.”

“Just a minute, kids. Ian, I want to tell you—”

“I didn’t eat the pretzels,” Raymond said. “I got those soft little cupcake things—”

“Okay, wait a minute,” Kate said desperately. “Ian, you and Raymond have company. Marsha is—”

Ian’s face, half-smiling at the children’s chatter, seemed to close. “What about Marsha?”

“She’s here,” Kate said helplessly. “Ah…she came a while after you had gone. I…she’s in the living room.”

“Marsha’s here?” Raymond asked, suddenly seeming oddly more composed. The complaining child of a moment ago seemed to have changed. Instead there was a cautiousness, a tentativeness about him. He was standing quite still, not leaning against the washer anymore. “She’s not gonna like the way I look,” he added. “Dad?” He looked up at Ian. “Maybe you’d better kinda break it to her…”

Kate, too, glanced up at Ian’s face. He was slightly flushed and—oh, no—-just for an instant had she seen a glint of eagerness? Happiness? Hope?

“Okay,” Ian said. “You’re right. Stay out of sight until I talk to her.” He put his hand on Raymond’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. He was looking at Kate intently.

“Kate? Is there anything else you want to tell me? Before I go in there?”

Kate swallowed. What could she say in front of the kids?

“I…you mentioned that she had found, uh, Mr. Right. Chester Burgess, she said his name is.”

Raymond muttered contemptuously, “Chester Burgess. I met that Chester Burgess. He’s a stick.”

“Well, she told me that, uh, they had been going to marry in June, but they, well, they decided to go ahead with it, and they’re already married.”

Ian started to say something, but Raymond interrupted. “You gotta be kidding! She married that stick? When she coulda had Dad?”

Could she have, Kate thought with a qualm. Would Ian have taken her back?

“Cool it, Ray,” Ian said quietly. “Kate? What else? There’s only one reason for her to come back here after she remarried.”

Kate nodded. He was too perceptive. Her gaze flicked over to Raymond for an instant. She couldn’t help it.

Ian looked grim. “Well, she can forget that.”

“Dad?” Raymond knew immediately what had been left unsaid. “Don’t let them mess with our custody deal, okay…? Okay?”

Kate’s heart went out to him. Children were so at the mercy of adults.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” Ian opened the door to the kitchen and strode through.

“Shut the kitchen door,” Kate said to his retreating back, not sure he had heard her, and making a grab for Joy, who had started to follow him. “Stay here,” she commanded. “We’re going to stay in the kitchen.”

“What’s up?” Tommy asked, frowning. “Why are you so antsy?”

“But what’ll we do in the kitchen? We’re not going to eat yet. There’s nothing to do in the kitchen.”

But there was. Before Ian had taken two steps he met Marsha coming into the room.

“Ian?” she said pleasantly. “I thought I heard voices back—” She stopped, because she had seen Raymond, who had also followed Ian. She gave a cry of horror and covered her face with her hands.

“It’s all right,” Ian said, taking her into his arms. “It’s all right. He’s okay. I know he looks—”

Kate was startled at the wave of pure jealousy that swept through her as Marsha broke away.

“Don’t!” Marsha cried. “What have you done to him! What have you done to my son!”

Raymond groaned. “Marsha, it’s no big deal. Don’t make a big deal of it, okay?”

Kate came forward and took Marsha’s arm. Seeing your child in Raymond’s condition would be a shock—to any mother, even a part-time one. “Sit down here, Marsha. Remember I did tell you that Raymond had been in this school fight. Raymond will be fine. Ian’s just taken him to the pediatrician.”

Marsha sat down at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. “I can’t look,” she moaned. “I can’t look.”

“Well, don’t look,” Ian said coldly. “Just listen. Ray got beaten up by some tough kids at school, and—I’ve taken him out of that school. He won’t be going back. Everything is under control.”

Marsha peeked through her fingers at Raymond and slowly took her hands away from her face. She was trembling. “How could such a thing happen? What kind of school was he in? You should have listened to Daddy. Daddy always said—”

“I know what Daddy always said,” Ian answered. “But let’s forget that. Ray doesn’t want to go to a military school and I agree. But I, we’ve, made other arrangements.” He turned to Kate. “Do you mind if we use your living room? It’s such a mess outside. By the time we get over to my place we’ll be frozen.”

“Please do,” Kate said. She turned to her children. “Go watch a video in your rooms or something. Go on, now. Go.” And with obvious reluctance Joy and Tommy left the kitchen.

“I wanna stay here,” Raymond said tentatively, looking at Ian.

“Sure. Your mother and I need to talk things over. Come on, Marsha. Stop dramatizing. We can talk about this sensibly.” He waited with obvious impatience while she got up and, still casting horrified glances at Raymond, preceded him back toward the living room.

Kate went to look out the window over the sink. It was coming down more heavily now, almost a curtain of white with little chips of ice in it. Her heart was pounding. Dear God, please forgive me. I have no right to be jealous of Marsha. But Ian had reached out to her, taken her into his arms when she had been upset about Raymond. Kate picked up a glass and ran some water into it, took a sip and put it down. She heard Raymond behind her, flinging himself into a kitchen chair.

“They’re gonna have a fight,” he muttered. “I always know when they’re gonna fight. I get the vibes.” He was clicking something. Kate could hear the rhythmic little clicks.

“I don’t care, you know?” Raymond was saying. “They can fight all they want. I don’t care.” His voice sounded oddly thick, and she turned around.

“I don’t care,” Raymond was repeating, and Kate saw tears rolling down his battered face. His thin hand was grasping the saltcellar, which he was hitting the table with again and again. “I don’t care.”

Kate rushed to him and took his bony, shaking body into her arms to hold him close, while angry words came to them from the living room despite the closed door. She wondered frantically if Tommy and Joy had really gone to their rooms.

Marsha was fairly screaming. “He could have been killed! My only child! How could you…”

Then Ian’s voice, lower, controlled. “Keep your voice down!”

“Daddy told you and told you…”

Ian’s voice was saying something they couldn’t hear.

“…Chet said…Chet will adopt him. Chet cares about my son. Chet…”

Kate felt Raymond stiffen against her. “Over my dead body,” he muttered. “That stick.”

“Shush,” Kate said into his hair. “Your father will handle it. Don’t worry.”

Marsha was crying now, great rasping sobs. “My child,” she moaned. “You can’t be trusted to take care…”

Again they couldn’t hear Ian’s response.

“…he’ll put a stop to this…” Marsha’s wail came through.

Then Ian’s voice, angry. “Stop it! Stop this! Hysterics don’t work with me anymore. You’re talking nonsense!”

Kate was holding her breath, waiting, but no further sound came, and she heard Ian’s firm footsteps coming toward the kitchen. Raymond straightened and grabbed a paper napkin to blot his face, but not soon enough.

Ian came over to the table. His face was flushed with anger, his eyes glinting. His hands rubbed over Raymond’s thin shoulders. “Forget whatever you heard, buddy,” he said. “We’re a team. Nothing’s going to change that. Okay?” He turned to Kate. “I’m sorry. This is embarrassing.”

“It’s all right,” Kate said quickly. “Can I help? Can I do anything?”

“No. I mean yes. Maybe you can. She’ll have a splitting headache. She always does when she has one of these screaming fits. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry about this.”

“No problem,” Kate said, taking a clean glass down from the cupboard. She was aware that her hands were slightly shaking.

Somehow she got the aspirin bottle and a glass of water into the living room without mishap, feeling a surge of mixed emotions. Marsha was sitting on the couch, leaning forward, her hands braced on the coffee table.

“Here, Marsha. Take a couple of aspirin. You’ll feel better,” Kate said. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for her.

“I need some tissues,” Marsha said piteously. “Have you got some tissues? Ian is such a beast. He never understands.” She started to cry again.

“I’ll get some,” Kate said, putting down the water and aspirin. When she came back with the box Marsha was putting the glass back down on the table.

“I took two. You said a couple,” she said, like a little girl who had done as she had been told and wanted praise for it.

“Good. Now here are the tissues,” Kate said. “Would you like to freshen up a bit?” She didn’t want to tell Marsha that her eye makeup was smudged below her lovely eyes.

“I’m…probably a mess,” Marsha said tiredly. “Yes, I should…freshen up,” she added without moving. “I’m just so beat. I’ve been on the go for twenty-four hours. If I weren’t so tired I…wouldn’t have lost control like that. But seeing Raymond…” Her voice dwindled away.

“Would you like to lie down a while?” Kate asked.

“I’d like to…go to bed,” Marsha said. “Would that be asking too much?” She started to say something else, but Ian came into the room.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “We’ve imposed on Kate enough. She doesn’t have any spare rooms. Come on. I’ll take you next door.”

“Don’t you be ridiculous,” she said, anger underlying her tone. “I’m Chet’s wife. I don’t think he’d take kindly to that.” There was just a hint of smugness as she watched Ian’s face flame.

“You can have my room,” Kate said quickly. “It would be better than trying to get a cab in this weather to find some hotel. It’s all right, Ian. This couch is a makedown and very comfortable. Don’t worry. Come along, Marsha. You’ll feel better after you’ve had some rest. I’ll bring you something to eat later.”

Ian still loves her. Kate forced herself to be calm and composed. She showed Marsha the bathroom, got her clean towels and washcloth. She made up her own bed with fresh sheets.

Keep busy. Don’t think. Why do I feel this way because Ian loves Marsha? She wondered. He’s only my neighbor. I don’t care. I mean, I shouldn’t care. But I do. I do. I care. She was vaguely aware that Tommy and Joy had gone back to the kitchen to be with Raymond and that the children were talking, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Where is Ian? What is Ian doing? she thought. Was he still in the living room? What was he thinking? Was he racked with jealousy because of this Chet person? Chet’s a stick, Ian.

Marsha was showered and sweetly fragrant when she came into Kate’s bedroom and saw the turned-down bed.

“Oh, Kate, thank you. A bed never looked so good. It just came over me all of a sudden. I just hit the wall. I’ve never felt so exhausted. I used your hair dryer, I hope that was okay. I thought I’d brought mine, but I couldn’t find it in the bag.”

“Of course, that’s okay. Just get into bed. I’ll bring you something to eat later.”

“No, please don’t. All I want is sleep. You’re an angel to do this.” Marsha slipped out of her elegant peach-colored robe, revealing an elegant peach-colored nightgown, and got into Kate’s bed with a sigh. “I’ll have to call your hairdresser tomorrow,” she said tiredly. “Turn off all the lights, will you? I don’t sleep well with any light on.”

I don’t have a hairdresser, Kate thought. Can’t you tell by my awful hair? She hurriedly got her own nightclothes and took them into Joy’s room until she needed them. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was hearing her sister Jill’s voice, and Jill was saying something about highlights and glints. She was saying, No, I don’t mean dyeing. I mean just adding a touch of light here and there. I see you with short hair, a layered, smart-looking style. And at some time or other Jill had offered to do what she called a “makeover.” Bracing herself, Kate went back into the living room. Forget makeover, Jill. I can never compete with Marsha. Not in a million years.

Ian was slumped on the couch. He was putting the glass down on the table. “I took some of your aspirin,” he said bleakly. “I’m really embarrassed about this. I can usually manage to keep my troubles to myself.”

Kate sat down opposite him. “Don’t worry. These things happen. I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you in front of Raymond, but Marsha mentioned that adoption idea to me, so I knew it was coming.” She glanced at her watch. It was only four forty-five. Not time to start dinner yet.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Ian muttered. “Marsha’s always got an angle. My guess is that Burgess wants a family—he’s a bit older than she is.” He looked at her questioningly.

“I…I think that’s what she said. She plans to have their own baby,” Kate said, to be fair. “But not immediately.”

“Don’t take any bets on it,” Ian said. “Raymond was what they call an ‘unplanned pregnancy.’ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping on you like this.”

“It’s all right. This is stressful for all of you,” Kate said. She knew all about Raymond’s beginnings. They had been too careless, not realizing how quickly he understood the nuances. I heard ’em fighting, see. I almost got aborted. Marsha’s always bringing it up to him. How he told Granddad and Granddad put a stop to it. There’s lots of money on the Greer side and Marsha’s an only child. Raymond hadn’t missed much.

“How’s Marsha doing?” Ian asked.

“She took a shower and went to bed. She did seem exhausted.”

“I’m sure she is. That’s vintage Marsha. She’s probably bushed. She does that, goes and goes and goes and then crashes. This is an old rerun. Burgess didn’t come with her? Did she say where he is?”

“I think she said he had gone to break the news to his family about the marriage, about not waiting for the June wedding.”

He was quiet for a time, slowly twisting the water glass on the coffee table, around and around. He looked desolate, and it tore her heart. She was accustomed to seeing him as Raymond saw him—confident, successful, always in control. Dad’s always been first string. In everything. All his life he’s total success. She wanted desperately to comfort him in some way. Almost six years ago when Claude had died she had settled down to a life of widowhood and motherhood, sure she could never be attracted to another man.

Until now.

For the first time she admitted to herself honestly that she could love again and, Oh, dear God, help me, this was the man. She wanted to touch him, push back his hair from falling over his forehead, reassure him, heal his hurt.

He looked up at her, his beautiful hazel eyes troubled. “You’re a good friend, Kate.”

A good friend. She made herself say it. “Well, neighbors help neighbors, Ian. And you know how fond I am of Raymond.”

“You’ve been a godsend to my boy. I could never repay you for what you do for him.”

I don’t want you to pay me. I want you to love me. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, for fear of what he might see in her eyes. Sounding practical and neighborly, she said, “What will you do now? Don’t you think you’d better try to nip this adoption idea in the bud? Can you do that?”

“Yes. Absolutely. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can. I know I’m just a working stiff and I’m up against people who can usually get their way, but I don’t think Justin—Marsha’s dad—will go for that. He’s a pretty fair-minded guy. Things like old-fashioned honor count with him.”

“Where is he? Can you reach him?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost five.”

“They’re over in Scottsdale for the winter. They like the sun. He’d just about be coming in from the golf course, I think. May I use your phone? Now, where’s my phone card?” He had taken out his billfold and was shuffling through credit cards. Kate got up to leave and he glanced up. “Would you mind sticking around? I…kinda need some moral support.”