Impossible Dreams (20 page)

Constance looked awed and worried at the same time as she
glanced in Maya’s direction. Maya held out her arms. “Give me a
hug. You’re the kind of little girl I want Alexa to be when she grows
up.”

Constance beamed, hugged her, and towed Matty out of the
room with cries of “We’re late. Daddy’s waiting.”

If only they could stay little and so easy forever, instead
of growing into impossibly arrogant, stubborn adults, Maya thought whimsically
a half hour later when Axell appeared in the bedroom door in all his
designer-suited elegance. His tie this morning was a shiny gold and blue silk.
His golden hair had been recently barbered, and a drop of moisture on his jaw
indicated he’d just shaved.

Instinctively, she shoved her hair behind her ear and
wondered if she looked a total wreck. Next to Axell’s neatly styled hair,
pressed clothes, and self-assured air, she would always resemble a hurricane
strike zone.

She wished she could read his expression as his gaze
lingered on her for just a second or two longer than it should before he looked
down at Alexa, who was beginning to fuss a little. Tentatively, he rocked the
cradle with his polished shoe, and the infant settled down. He looked mildly
astonished.

“It works. Why do they like movement so much?”
There was the curious professor who hooked her everytime.

“Because they’re used to bobbing around in water
all day in the womb? I haven’t the foggiest. Cleo used to fall asleep in
the car even as a teenager.” Maya wound her fingers together and tried to
think of some way of relieving the unexpected tension between them. He’d
carried in her breakfast earlier — toast and orange juice and hot water with a
tea bag — but hadn’t lingered for more than an inquiry about how
she’d slept. She’d thought he’d forgotten his promise to
talk, and hadn’t expected him to return here after he took the kids to
school.

Still, just attempting breakfast for her was a sweet thing
to do, and she rewarded him with a smile, just to see how that would work.

He stiffened like his shirt collar, if that was possible.
Nervously, he fingered Constance’s artwork on the wall and looked
anywhere but at her. She wondered if she had pillow wrinkles on her face.

Absorbed in her college studies and tedious hours of work,
she’d never really looked at older, established men as anything more than
interesting caricatures as unreachable as the faces on a movie screen. Stephen
was the most grown-up lover she’d ever known, and next to Axell, he was
positively adolescent. Axell’s mature confidence was starting to grow on
her. Scary.

She really should apply her mind to looking beyond his
surface polish. That tanned, golden-boy veneer hid a piercingly intelligent
mind. Those stony eyes that watched the world so warily disguised a man who
couldn’t reach out to others. But the lion-like physical grace and Nordic
god confidence were bred to the bone. It was a good thing he always wore those
suits or she’d be admiring his chest next. Intrigued by his slipping
self-assurance but growing as nervous as he, Maya sought another ice breaker.

“You had something you wanted to tell me?” Well,
so much for being subtle.

Axell tightened his mouth, lined up the hairbrush and comb
on the dresser, and with a decided air of resolution, took the wing chair
beside the bed. Against the feminine chair, his shoulders loomed enormous and
entirely too masculine.

“We have problems.” He steepled his fingers and
searched for the next step.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Maya
said with humor. “I try to tackle them one at a time. You really
don’t have to solve mine, you know.”

He defrosted ever so slightly and shot her a wry look.
“They’re starting to get a little tangled together, you’ll
notice.”

Maya wrinkled her nose and considered it. “Not really.
I can move Cleo’s stuff out of your building. You can send Constance to
another school. Before long, we’re all untangled.”

“I’m not certain that’s the route I want
to take.”

He said that so firmly, he startled her. Maya stared at him
in incredulity. “Why on earth would you want your problems entangled with
mine? I’m a walking disaster area. You don’t strike me as the type
to handle that kind of chaos well.” Actually, Virgos were excellent
caretakers. She just didn’t know if she wanted to be taken care of.

Axell’s steepled fingers slid together until they
formed a solid grip across his silk tie. “I’m very good at handling
chaos,” he replied grimly. “It’s Constance I don’t
manage so well. Sandra has demanded a paternity test, and the judge is
considering it. Sandra claims I’m not fit to raise Constance.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “She can’t do that,
can she? You’ve given Constance everything. Children go through stages.
She’s already growing out of this one.”

Axell shrugged but it wasn’t indifference reflected in
his determined expression. “Sandra can make life hell for me and
Constance. There will be court battles; Constance will have to go to
court-appointed psychologists. The lawyers will have a field day.”

Maya blinked in disbelief. She’d thought she was the
only victim around here, but apparently it didn’t matter what end of the
socioeconomic ladder one was on when trouble called. In their overeagerness to
right all wrongs, the courts hadn’t developed a measure for determining
good parenting. Money still won more often than love, and women won more often
than men. She stared at Axell in dawning horror as she realized his dilemma.

“How can I help?” He’d done so much for
her, she owed him more than she could possibly pay in a million years. Besides,
he was hurting, and she loved his daughter, and she wanted to help.

“Marry me,” Axell demanded, meeting her gaze without
flinching.

If sunlight had poured through the roof and Disney bluebirds
had started draping pink bunting across the ceiling, Maya couldn’t have
been more astounded. Actually, a mockingbird burst into song outside and
sunlight spilled through the window for the first time in days. In her cradle,
Alexa stirred and made sucking sounds.

Alexa. Her daughter. The one she’d sworn to protect
with every ounce of her body and soul. She hadn’t done a very good job of
it so far. This man was offering to take over the responsibility. This man was
insane.

“You’re kidding, right?” Maya asked
nervously, tugging at a strand of hair that had escaped her barrette.

“No, I don’t, generally,” Axell replied
with more thoughtfulness than he’d used in his proposal.
“I’ve talked to my lawyers and the judge. They all agree that
Sandra wouldn’t have much of a case if I’m married, especially if
I’m married to someone with your credentials in child care.”

A rebellious giggle formed in Maya’s throat.
He’d lined up all his soldiers in a row again. He hadn’t realized
how subversive her form of guerrilla warfare was. She managed a straight face.
This was, after all, a serious topic. She thought. “You mean,
you’re willing to put up with Matty and Alexa and a wife who paints
dragons on shoes in return for a live-in baby-sitter for Constance?”

Axell didn’t blink a single splendid eyelash.
“We can work out any arrangement you prefer. I just know it isn’t
wise for us to cohabit. Social Services has already threatened to take away
Matty if you stay here under ‘immoral circumstances.’ Since neither
of us are his legal parents, my lawyers say they have that right.”

He pressed his lips together as he formulated his next
argument. So appalled that she was fascinated, Maya held her tongue.

“If I’m to take on a political fight, I need a
wife and not a ‘significant other,’” he finally continued.
“Both our businesses would be on more solid ground if we regularized our
relationship, and we would be in better positions to fight the mayor.”

Their “relationship”? Did they have one? If so,
it was the strangest one she’d ever known. Her heart did drum rolls and
the butterflies in her stomach turned to roaring mammoths as she realized his
seriousness.

“I hate to point this out,” she said
tentatively, “but there is a little more to marriage than taking care of
kids and making political points.”

Axell sketched a nod of agreement, and she thought maybe
beneath his hooded gaze she saw a glimmer of warmth.

“I’ve been married before. I’m not much
good at it. I don’t like my routine disturbed, and I’m apparently
incapable of giving the kind of emotional support women like. I realize
I’m not a good candidate for husband. But if you can deal with that, I
can offer you and the children the kind of security you would never have
otherwise. I can help you with your businesses. I can even help your sister
into a rehab program if she needs it. It’s a trade-off.”

He was serious. Maya stared at him in total disbelief, then
turned to gaze around the enormous room he’d brought her to. She could
live here in the lap of luxury, give Alexa everything she’d ever dreamed
of, protect Matty and Cleo, and never have to worry about Social Services
again. She could do it in the blink of an eyelash.

All she had to do was give up any hope of love for herself.
The adult kind, at least.

It hurt. It hurt like the very devil. All her life
she’d dreamed of finding someone who could actually love her for herself.
But she wasn’t very lovable. Heaven only knew, she’d been taught
that the hard way through numerous foster homes and failed relationships. She
had an impossibly eccentric character no one could understand. Could she trade
the impossible dream of love in exchange for all the others he could provide?

Could she give up her one shriveled-up bit of hope in return
for happiness for Constance and Matty and Alexa? Who was she kidding?

Maya looked Axell straight in the eye. “You’ve
considered all the ramifications of this proposal? Including sex?”

He looked a little taken aback by her bluntness but nodded.
“I’d prefer that we keep the vows of faithfulness, for the sake of
the children. We’d have to learn to deal with each other on that
level.”

He carefully avoided looking at her but Maya had a sneaking
suspicion that — like most men — his mind had never traveled too far from
“that level.” A pleasant shiver prickled her skin as she realized
that the formidable lion king found her attractive even while calling her
twenty-months pregnant. Or the Scorpio passion she was beginning to seriously
suspect he possessed had overruled all logic. But physical attraction
wasn’t enough to keep a relationship alive.

“You haven’t disrupted my routine with constant
demands as so many other women would,” Axell continued. “I think
you could adjust to my habits better than most.” He hesitated, then
apparently decided on frankness. “You’re young. You probably want
more out of life than someone like me. But you’ve got a good head on your
shoulders. I think you see the wisdom of my suggestion. In return, I’ll
try to bend as far as I’m capable to make you happy.”

Maya bit back another bubble of laughter at his seriousness.
He was so right, and so very wrong. And so damned Virgo.

“I adore you,” she managed to say with what she
thought was enormous equanimity. “Every little girl dreams of a prince on
a white horse riding to her rescue, one who will take care of her forever
after.”

His brow drew down in a frown as he recognized her satire.
In his favor, he shut up and waited for her to finish.

“But I can’t return the enormous debt I owe you
by turning your life into my vision of hell for both of us. I’ve lived
all my life with other people’s rules, and I simply can’t do it
anymore.”

Maya thought she ought to cut her tongue out right about
now, but the words had been building up inside of her for a long time, and they
all spilled out at once, with disastrous consequences, she was certain.

“As easy as it would be to accept your offer,
I’ve got to make it on my own this time,” she continued.
“I’m an adult now; I don’t have to take anyone’s charity.
I may have to live under a leaky roof, but it will be my roof, and I can fly
kites from it if I like,” she said defiantly. “I can paint on the
walls, wear dirty shoes on the carpet, and scream out loud anytime I want — in my
own home. This isn’t my home.”

Axell looked down at his hands. Maya noticed they were
shaking. He must have noticed it at the same time. He unclasped them and
gripped the chair arms, then looked up at her again. She had never seen so much
defiant determination on any person’s face.

“Just leave me my wing of the house, and the rest of
the place is yours.”

***

December, 1945

I’ve hired a new piano player, one who makes me laugh and
doesn’t play sad songs. I’m having the walls painted and I’m
installing a mirror over the bar. Maybe I’ll make the place high-class
and invite the ladies.

Maybe I’ll start a campaign to legalize liquor, go to
church on Sunday, and join your girlfriend’s Sunday school class. What do
you think Dolly will think of that? Does she know hard liquor has crossed your
wicked lips? Does she know where that sinful mouth of yours has been? Should I
tell her?

If you ain’t making waves, you ain’t kicking hard
enough.

Baby Alexa whimpered louder. Axell rocked her cradle with
his toe, but she seemed determined to wake this time. He’d have to
remember how inconvenient and intrusive children were. Perhaps he should be
glad Maya had turned him down flat. Constance and the restaurant kept him busy
enough. If he was bored with his orderly life, he could run for mayor.

He wasn’t bored. He was lonely.

Leaning over to lift the infant, he grimaced at
Alexa’s soggy diaper. Another good reason to hope Maya didn’t agree
to his absurd argument. Babies were dirty and wet and he didn’t know what
to do with them. He could save his liquor license some other way. Constance
might be better off with Sandra.