Let's Make It Legal (17 page)

Emily and Jeffrey whizzed around the rink like old pros, and Sydney could see that they had skated often.

“Andrea was a pretty good skater,” John admitted when Sydney asked him about the children’s prowess. “In fact, when she was younger, she skated competitively.”

Sydney noticed that John’s eyes no longer got that bleak look when he mentioned his wife’s name, and his matter-of-fact answer pleased her even as she wondered if she would ever be able to measure up to the multitalented Andrea.

But then John took her hand and said, “Come on, let’s go. You’ve rested long enough,” and they were off and onto the ice and laughing, and soon Sydney forgot all about her insecurities and Andrea’s accomplishments.

After skating, they ate at a Chinese restaurant inside the mall, and Sydney marveled at how sophisticated his children were when it came to ordering.

“We took them out to eat as soon as they could sit in a high chair,” John explained. A funny kind of expression slid across his face. “Neither one of us had much time to cook.”

That was the first time he had ever uttered a word that could be construed as a criticism of his dead wife, and Sydney would have liked to question him further, but the presence of the children stopped her.

The following Sunday, Sydney and John took the children to see
The Nutcracker,
and although Jeffrey fidgeted through the performance, Emily loved the ballet, and so did Sydney.

Afterward, Emily said, “When I grow up, I’m going to be a ballet dancer.” She pirouetted on the sidewalk in front of them.

“I thought you were going to be an astronaut,” John said.

“I changed my mind,” Emily said. “It’s a woman’s
per-rogative
to change her mind. Miss Traylor said so.”

“I think the word is
prerogative,”
John said. He grinned at Sydney over Emily’s head.

Sydney bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“You’re dumb, Emily,” Jeffrey pronounced. “Girls are dumb, aren’t they, Dad?”

“I don’t think I’ll answer that one, son,” John said. He winked at Sydney, and now Sydney
did
laugh.

She laughed a lot when she was with John and his children, and it felt good.

Another weekend, John invited Sydney to go to church with him and the children, and afterward they went to Sunday brunch at Brennan’s.

“I
love
this place,” Emily declared, preening as their waiter fussed over her.

“I don’t,” Jeffrey said, pulling at his tie. “Don’t they have hamburgers?”

Sydney grinned.

John kicked her under the table. “Quit laughing,” he warned.

Only one element kept that month from being perfect, and that was the difficulty of finding any private time together. With children the ages of Emily and Jeffrey, John always needed a sitter if he and Sydney were to be alone. This meant they rarely went out, preferring to spend their precious time alone at Sydney’s condo.

Sydney knew John was as frustrated as she was by this problem. She also knew that sooner or later she and John were going to have to talk about their situation. Several times, she wanted to bring up the topic, but at the last minute, she always lost her nerve. It was John’s place to introduce the subject, she felt, and since he didn’t, she was reluctant to do so. Besides, what would she say?

Let’s move in together?

She almost laughed at the thought. John would never, not in a million years, consider doing anything even remotely like that. What then? she wondered. Would she have to be contented with the status quo?

Or... ?

Her mind refused to go to the next step. Because the next step would either be to say goodbye to John permanently or to marry him.

She couldn’t bear to think of saying goodbye, and John had certainly never indicated any interest in marrying her. And even if he wanted to, could it ever work?

Because there seemed to be no answer to their dilemma, Sydney tried to just enjoy the moment and not worry about the future. And when she did occasionally allow herself to think ahead, she always got depressed. Then she’d get mad at herself.

Why are you always wanting more? John loves you. He tells you so. Often.

That had to be enough for now.

* * *

John knew he couldn’t coast along like this forever. All through the month between Thanksgiving and Christmas, he tried not to think about the future. Yet he knew he could not put it off indefinitely. Very soon he was going to have to decide what to do about Sydney.

He had never expected to fall in love with her.

Yet he had.

And she loved him, too.

But being with her a couple of times a week wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

A lot more.

He wanted to have Sydney in his bed at night and wake up next to her in the morning. He wanted her to be there at the end of the day, every day. He was tired of trying to find a sitter so that he and Sydney could be alone.

He began to give the matter serious thought.

There had to be a solution.

* * *

Sydney was more excited about Christmas this year than she had been in a long time. She knew John was the reason. She had invited him and the children to have Christmas Day dinner with her and her family, and he had accepted. In turn, he had asked her to spend Christmas Eve with him and his family. She had also accepted, although she was nervous about it.

She knew Janet was an adversary. Sydney had briefly been in Janet’s company several times since that first encounter in John’s office. Janet was always polite, but there was no warmth in her eyes, no real effort to go beyond the surface pleasantries.

Sydney wondered what she could do to win Janet over. Of course, if this relationship with John was only temporary—as Sydney kept reminding herself—it didn’t really matter what Janet thought of her.

Yet deep down, in a hidden corner of Sydney’s heart, she couldn’t banish a tiny spark of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for her and John to build something more permanent. She felt encouraged by the fact that he had included her in outings with his children and that she got along well with both of them.

In fact, both children had managed to worm their way into Sydney’s heart. Jeffrey was so open and friendly, it was impossible not to become attached to him. And Emily. Sydney smiled. She couldn’t help feeling a special kinship with Emily, because they were so much alike. Sydney saw so many of her own personality traits in the youngster. Emily was a little perfectionist, and she wasn’t afraid to set lofty goals for herself. She faced the world head-on, with courage and determination. She was just the kind of daughter Sydney would have wanted if she’d had children of her own.

So Sydney hopefully prepared for Christmas Eve.

“I’ll pick you up about six,” John said.

“John,” Sydney said, “I’m a grown woman. You don’t need to pick me up. I’m perfectly capable of driving to your mother’s house by myself.”

“I know that, but it’s Christmas Eve. I don’t want you driving home alone late at night.”

“But you’ll have the children with you, and they’ll be tired.”

“Sydney,” John said firmly, “stop arguing with me. I’m picking you up and that’s that. Let me worry about the kids.”

When Sydney hung up the phone, she smiled. Although she had told John he didn’t have to worry about her, it was nice to know he did. It had been a long time since anyone had worried about her—since she was a teenager, in fact. John’s concern gave her a warm feeling.

The warm feeling made her feel more tolerant of the goofing off going on in the office that morning. Christmas Eve day was always a total loss as far as work production was concerned, and in other years, this fact had annoyed Sydney. Today she felt just as disinclined toward work as anyone else. The firm was closing at noon, and at eleven-thirty, Sydney walked around and distributed her Christmas gifts.

Norma squealed with pleasure over her gift certificate. “I know just what I’m going to get with it,” she said. “A new pair of boots. Thank you, Miss Wells.”

“You’re very welcome,” Sydney said. “Have a wonderful holiday.”

“You, too.”

Sydney smiled. She intended to. She hurried home to get ready for John’s arrival.

“You wore the red dress,” John said. His gaze swept downward. “And I was right about the shoes, too, wasn’t I?”

Sydney’s heart beat faster at the look in his eyes.

He smiled into her eyes. “You look beautiful,” he murmured. He walked inside her condo and shut the door behind him.

Then he took her into his arms and kissed her. John’s kisses always made her greedy for more, and this one was no exception. After a long moment, he finally released her, saying, “We’d better go before I forget myself.”

Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of a sprawling red brick ranch house located in Afton Oaks—an older Houston neighborhood inside the Loop. The house was set back on a large lot with several huge trees and was decorated lavishly. Multicolored lights defined the pitched roof and were dotted throughout the bushes and trees. There was a Santa-in-his-sleigh-with-his-reindeer scene on the front lawn, lighted by floodlights, and Christmas candles in all the windows.

As they walked up the luminaria-lined front walk, Sydney saw a sign that proclaimed the house had won second place in the Christmas decorating contest. It looked as if John’s mother was also a multitalented woman.

Sydney took a deep breath. She tried to quell her nervousness and wondered if John’s mother would react the same way toward her as John’s sister had. God, she hoped not, or she was in for a long evening.

Without knocking, John opened the front door, and they walked into a small foyer. The scent of bayberry and pine greeted her, and she could hear muted laughter and voices coming from a room to their right. After helping her remove her coat, John—his hand settled firmly at her waist—drew her toward the room.

As they entered, Sydney briefly noted the enormous spruce tree in the far corner, the gaily wrapped packages piled under it and the pine boughs and ribbons festooning the mantel above the fireplace.

Janet and a pleasant-looking, sandy-haired man with blue eyes were seated on a chintz-covered love seat, and Emily and Jeffrey were sitting on the floor playing a game of Chinese checkers.

“Hi, Sydney,” Emily said. She looked darling in a red velvet jumper and long-sleeved white blouse.

Jeffrey grinned. He wore a white pullover sweater and dark dress pants.

Sydney greeted the children, then turned to Janet, who looked festive and pretty in a dark blue velvet dress.

“This is my husband, Mike,” Janet said. They both stood, and Janet smiled, but Sydney sensed a continued reserve and wondered if it would ever disappear.

Mike Cameron’s blue eyes were friendly, though, and his smile seemed sincere as he welcomed her.

Just then, an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair and warm, dark eyes like John’s, walked into the room. She wore an apron over her green wool dress and a big smile on her face.

“Sydney, this is my mother, Cecelia Appleton,” John said. “Mother, this is Sydney. Sydney Wells.”

“Hello, Mrs. Appleton,” Sydney said, holding out her hand.

“Oh, please, my dear, call me Cecelia.” John’s mother grasped Sydney’s hand in a firm shake. Her eyes were friendly as they appraised Sydney.

Cecelia Appleton looked a lot like her daughter, Sydney thought, but at least she seemed more open and receptive to the new woman in her son’s life than Janet was. Sydney immediately felt more relaxed.

For the next thirty minutes, they sat and talked over glasses of wassail and nibbled at the cheese ball and crackers Cecelia Appleton had set out on a small cut-glass plate.

Then Cecelia excused herself. “I’ve got some last-minute things to do in the kitchen.”

“I’ll help you, Mom,” Janet said, rising.

“No, you stay and visit,” Cecelia said.

But Janet followed her mother out of the room, and Sydney was glad. Janet’s presence made her feel too tense, too much as if she were on stage, and every word, every gesture, was being weighed and judged.

The reprieve only lasted fifteen minutes, then Janet reappeared in the doorway and said, “Dinner’s ready.”

The dining room was just as festive as the living room, with garlands of pinecones and silver ribbon adorning the buffet, a beautiful old mahogany table laid with a lace cloth and a centerpiece of red and white carnations and silver bells.

Sydney enjoyed the meal. John’s mother and Janet’s husband were both talkers, and kept the conversational ball rolling. Even Janet seemed friendlier.

Toward the end of the meal, Sydney said, “Cecelia, everything is delicious.”

Cecelia smiled. “Thank you. I’ll pass your compliments on to the chef.”

When Sydney frowned in confusion, everyone laughed.

“My mother doesn’t cook much,” John explained.

“Got the whole thing from a catering service,” Cecelia said, not the least bit apologetic.

Sydney decided she liked John’s mother a lot.

After dinner, Sydney helped with the cleanup. As the three women worked in the kitchen, Cecelia said, “This is the happiest I’ve seen John in a long time.” She gave Sydney a thoughtful look. “It’s due to you, I’m sure.”

Sydney felt a rush of warmth toward John’s mother. “What a nice thing to say. Thank you.” She wanted to look at Janet but didn’t.

A few minutes later, Janet said, “I saw you on the
Geneva
show. You did a good job.”

“Thanks.”

“Geneva?”
Cecelia said. “Really? You were on her show?”

“Yes,” Sydney said. She explained about the Montgomery case.

“That was you?” John’s mother said. “I read about it, but I never connected the name. Of course, John didn’t tell me about you until only recently.” She wiped off the countertop around the sink, then dried her hands in her apron. She turned and smiled at Sydney. “You must be very good.”

Sydney shrugged. She hung her dish towel on the rack and removed the apron John’s mother had insisted she wear. “I care about what I do.”

“John used to be the same way,” Cecelia said. “Sometimes I wish—” She broke off. “I talk too much.”