Designer Genes (22 page)

“Let’s see how
things go in court on Wednesday,” she said. “If I don’t have to worry about losing
Allie, then, yes, I’ll go back.”

She turned
quickly away to nestle the little girl in her crib. She’d rather not have to
lie and pretend she was crying tears of happiness.

As it turned
out, by Wednesday everything was wrapped up neatly except for a few legal
details. On Monday, at Carter’s instigation, Boyce Fringo had filed a court
order to obtain the financial records of Charger Productions. He’d also
subpoenaed Charisse to testify if necessary.

The material,
contradicting the notarized statements Roger had filed in the divorce case,
provided an unmistakable picture of deception, perjury and possible fraud. An
outraged Louise had threatened to file her own lawsuit against her son.

He’d folded on
all fronts, paying his mother and Buffy the money he’d withheld over the past
six months, relinquishing his demand for custody and guaranteeing a fair
financial deal in the future, more than enough to underwrite his ex-wife’s new
store and his mother’s travel plans. All he asked in exchange was their promise
not to seek criminal prosecution for fraud.

“Why would we
do that?” Louise had asked. “If we put you behind bars, who’ll run Charger
Productions and earn us another pile of money?”

The outcome
gave Carter a sense of satisfaction, yet he felt that something was wrong.
Specifically, that something was wrong between him and Buffy.

He hadn’t seen
much of her since Sunday. On Monday and Tuesday, when she wasn’t meeting with
the lawyer, she spent her time scouring L.A.’s garment district for clothing,
accessories, patterns, notions and fabric. By the time she got home, she was so
exhausted she went to bed early.

In Buffy’s
absence, Carter enjoyed taking care of his daughter and observing her
development. Alison was starting to crawl, and her vocabulary had grown to
include “ba ba” for goodbye.

But he missed
Buffy. He could hardly wait until their return to Nowhere Junction, when he
would have her all to himself.

He would take
slowly with her. It wouldn’t be right to propose while she was still technically
married. More importantly, he didn’t believe she was ready for such a
commitment.

She must have
made love to him on the spur of the moment. Thoughts of marriage couldn’t have
entered her mind, since she’d known she wasn’t free.

His luck might
be changing, though. Carter had yielded to his impulse to follow her to L.A.,
with triumphant results. In a few months, or maybe a year, he might be ready to
risk having his heart broken by popping the big question. Surely if she meant
to say no, she’d at least be polite about it.

On Thursday
morning, a few hours before they were to fly to Texas, Buffy drove off in one
of Roger’s cars with a pile of boxes to ship. She took Allie with her, leaving
Carter without his usual small companion.

He had nothing
to pack except a single change of clothing and some toys and books he’d picked
up for the baby. Feeling restless and abandoned, he went to say goodbye to
Louise.

He found her
swimming laps in the pool. There was no sign of Roger, who’d cleared out of the
house on Monday and was staying in a hotel until his “guests” departed.

A lounge chair
squeaked beneath Carter’s weight as he propped his feet and settled back to
admire Louise’s form. He hoped he’d be in equally good shape when he was her
age, whatever that was.

She emerged,
water dripping from her purple swimsuit. “Alone again?” she asked. “Where’s
Buffy?”

“Mailing
packages for her shop,” he said. “We’re leaving in a couple of hours.”

“I think I’ll
hang around for a while and enjoy my California vacation at Roger’s expense.”
She toweled off. “I met a nice man at the party after you and Buffy left, a
film editor. He promised to show me how he works his magic.”

“Sounds like
he’s inviting you up to see his etchings,” he teased.

“I hope so!”
She took a seat beside him. “There’s nothing more precious than romance.
Speaking of which, what’s eating Buffy?”

“I have no
idea.” Louise had observed her standoffishness, too, Carter registered
unhappily. He’d hoped that he was imagining it.

“You must have
hurt her feelings,” she said.

He shook his
head. “I don’t see how. Heck, she agreed to move back to my home town so we can
raise our daughter together. Why would she have said yes if she was angry?”

The older
woman regarded him as if he were a rather slow-witted panda at the zoo. “I
don’t suppose there was any mention of marriage in this discussion?”

“Of course
not!” He swung his feet to the ground and sat up straight. “She’s still a
married woman.”

Louise bunched
her towel as if tempted to whack him with it. “Forget the technicalities. Roger
certainly has. And the woman’s agreed to move to— what’s it called?—No Known
Function, Texas. Why do you think she’s doing that, you big sap?”

“Because it’s
the right thing for Allie.” Even to him, the explanation sounded weak. “I
reckon that might not be all, huh?”

“Keep
reckoning until you hit a sensible idea,” retorted Louise, and went into the
house.

Maybe he ought
to observe Buffy more closely, Carter reflected. But he doubted he was
mistaken.

*

After she
returned from shipping her purchases, Buffy disappeared into the bedroom to
pack. Later, in the taxi, she fussed over Allie and chatted with the cab
driver, soliciting his opinions about women’s fashions and what his girlfriend
wore. She spoke only a few words to Carter.

If she was in
love, you couldn’t tell, he thought. She didn’t seem unhappy, though. Not until
they were airborne and he saw a tear glimmer in the corner of her eye as she
gazed out the window.

“What’s
wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Are you
crying?”

She sniffled.
“Getting a cold.”

“In April?”

“They’re the
worst kind.”

He didn’t dare
blurt out the question on his mind. Asking a woman if she was upset because he
hadn’t asked her to marry him was, even to Carter’s unpolished self, clearly a
numbskull thing to do.

A flight attendant
stopped by. Her nameplate read Susan. “Care for a magazine?” She held one out.

Buffy reached
for it, then snatched her hand away as if she’d been burned. “No, thanks.”

The magazine
was Modern Bride.

What was he
waiting for, a lightning strike? Carter asked himself. Between her actions and
Louise’s comments, he could no long ignore the reality. Against all odds, she
wanted to marry him. He’d dallied so long, she must think he didn’t love her
enough to propose.

Since high
school, Carter had been afraid to risk disgrace by following his instincts.
This time, he’d acted like a complete idiot by ignoring them.

He wished
Allie’s car seat didn’t occupy the space between them. He also wished he’d
brought a ring and a spray of roses. Marriage proposals deserved a celebration.

Maybe he could
wangle a bit of champagne. Although Carter hadn’t intentionally consumed
alcohol in years, this might be an exception.

A glance at
Buffy showed her absorbed in a sewing-supply catalog. As soon as the Fasten
Seat Belts signs went dark. Carter made his way to the galley.

He found Susan
loading packages of peanuts onto a drink cart. Nearby, people were lining up to
use the rest rooms.

“Excuse me,”
he said. “Do you have any champagne?”

She checked
the bottles. “I’m sorry, no. White wine is the best I can do.”

Carter sighed.
“I just decided to ask my girlfriend to marry me. It doesn’t seem very romantic
without a ring or champagne or anything.”

“How about
flowers?” asked a woman waiting in the bathroom line.

“That would
help.” He wondered where you found flowers on an airplane.

From her
purse, she pulled three novelty ballpoint pens. The eraser ends sprouted
plastic flowers in red, yellow and orange. “I run a gardening service. These
are promotional items.”

“They’re
great. Thanks,” he said, taking them.

“Say, I have
something you might use.” The man next to her drew a small object from his
sport coat. “It’s a key chain from my insurance company.”

“Mighty kind
of you.” Holding it in his palm. Carter saw that it consisted of a plastic tag
and a small key ring.

“You can give
her this.” A little girl standing beside her mother stuck out a fist. She
opened it to reveal a squashed, foil-wrapped chocolate kiss.

“That’s very
generous, but I can’t take your candy,” Carter said.

A pair of big
brown eyes stared at him fiercely. “You have to,” she said. “I insist.”

Her mother
chuckled. “Annette knows her own mind.”

“I never argue
with a lady,” Carter replied and accepted with thanks.

Carrying these
gifts, plus two miniature bottles of white wine and plastic glasses, he felt
loaded and primed as he eased down the aisle. How could Buffy resist?

He received
his answer the moment he saw her. Eyes shut and breathing regular, she drooped
into a skimpy airline pillow wedged against a window shade.

His beloved
was dead to the world.

*

Buffy drifted
in and out of sleep. She kept wishing she’d had time to visit her younger
sister, Stephanie, and her mom, who lived in Norco, east of L.A.

She’d had to
content herself with a long-overdue Skype call. They’d brought each other
up-to-date on recent events, like Buffy’s divorce and Stephanie’s older son
finishing kindergarten, but the medium hadn’t been conducive to a
heart-to-heart.

She wanted to
tell Stef that she understood now why a woman would choose to marry and live in
an out-of-the-way place like Norco. Buffy blushed to remember the things she’d
said to her sister before the wedding, warning that Stef would turn into an old
frump.

Old frumpdom
was looking better all the time. So were small towns, loving husbands and the
prospect of launching little kids into life’s great adventures from a secure
home.

Beside her,
Allie began babbling. Reluctantly Buffy opened her eyes.

Her peripheral
vision told her at once that Carter wasn’t in his seat. Stretching cramped muscles,
she glanced around.

The young
couple across the aisle must have been studying her, because they quickly
averted their gazes. Behind them, an older man leaned forward and grinned at
Buffy.

These must be
the friendly skies she’d heard so much about, she thought as she smiled back.

Over the hum
of the plane engine, she caught a few phrases from the seats ahead of her. The
word “awake” reached her several times, as did the sound of people shushing
each other. What was going on?

“Isn’t it time
for them to throw coffee and stale pretzels at us?” she asked Allie as she
raised her window shade. “Where’s your father, anyway?”

“Da da,” said
the baby, and bit on a teething ring shaped like Mickey Mouse. It had been a
gift from Carter.

Buffy squeezed
past her daughter and moved into Carter’s aisle seat. He had been gone an
awfully long time, she thought. Since she doubted he’d parachuted from the
plane à la James Bond, she leaned out to see if he was waiting for the
bathroom.

A sea of faces
stared back at her. She picked out a grizzled man in a cowboy hat, two brightly
dressed African-American women, a striking Asian woman with a toddler on her
lap, a couple of senior citizens holding hands, a Hispanic man in a business
suit and a girl with long blonde hair. They all caught her gaze, then busied
themselves with their tablets and phones. How odd.

Buffy noticed
some litter on the floor. “This sure is a messy airline,” she told her
daughter. “They let people dump stuff anywhere.”

But, wait. The
litter consisted of unopened packages of peanuts, and they formed a pattern
along the aisle. Puzzled, she stood up for a closer look.

Over the
silence of the passengers, the thrum of the airplane sounded louder than usual.
It must be her imagination, but they all seemed to be reading the message on
the carpet along with her.

It said,
“Marry Me.”

“I wonder who
that’s for,” she remarked to Allie. “Whoever wrote it should have included a
name.”

“It’s your own
fault,” said the old man across the aisle.

“Excuse me?”

“Your name has
all those curvy letters in it,” he said. “He couldn’t make a B, and the U
looked too much like a V.”

“He who?” she
asked.

“How many men
want to marry you?” the man retorted.

“Hey! You’re
stealing my thunder!” Here came Carter, stepping around the peanuts. He held
out a fistful of plastic flowers. “These are for you.”

Buffy wondered
if she was still asleep. Even in a dream, though, she couldn’t leave Carter
standing with his hand outstretched, so she took the flowers.

“Go on, ask
her,” a man called. Someone must have whacked him, because he added, “Stop
hitting me!”

A light danced
in Carter’s gray eyes. She’d never seen him this playful. “Well?” he asked.
“Will you?”

“Will I what?”
she asked dazedly.

A few aisles
ahead, a little boy demanded, “What did she say? Is she going to...”

Three people
went “Shh!”

Carter knelt
in the aisle. From this angle, she saw that a tuft of hair was sticking up from
the back of his head. Instinctively, she smoothed it.

He caught her
hand and held up a silvery ring attached to a tag. “Buffy, will you marry me?”

“Mama, Dada,”
said Allie.

All the people
on the plane seemed to be holding their breath. They were waiting for her
answer, Buffy realized. She waited for it, too, feeling disembodied.