Monkey Wrench (25 page)

“What's your plan?”

How like Roger to expect a plan when Susannah had only started thinking about the problem. She said, “I don't have one yet. But I'd like to phase out of ‘Oh, Susannah!' Maybe do the show only a few days a week. Maybe I could get a cohost to take some of the load.”

“Cohost?”

“Someone like Josie, for instance. She'd be good—maybe better than I am.”

“She lacks the homey quality you have, Susannah.”

“She could learn. She's got a future, Roger. You know that as well as I do because you hired her.”

Roger eyed her solemnly. “You want to quit.”

“No. Maybe.” Susannah shook her head. “I'm not sure. I'm not too old to have children. Maybe someday I'd like to—”

“Good Lord,” Roger said. “I should have known it was your biological clock ticking. I thought you hated children.”

“I don't hate them. I just don't know how to handle them. But I can learn. I'm starting to see that. All I need is a chance.”

“How will you support yourself if you stop working for me?”

“I'll manage. I have an idea.”

Roger looked interested. “Tell me about it.”

Roger might have been a little unfeeling when it came to his programs, but he had a very sharp head for business—especially when it came to self-promotion and public relations. And he had been her closest friend and colleague for a long time. So Susannah took the plunge and told him all about her book idea. She poured coffee for both of them and talked for nearly half an hour. Roger made a couple of astute observations and suggested a particular agency that specialized in booking talent for talk shows.

“You could do the whole circuit once your book is ready for distribution,” Roger said. “I could make a few calls to get you on the national programs, if you like.”

Susannah wasn't surprised that Roger would be willing to help promote her book. He was a pro. But it was a revelation to learn that Roger, who had always been a commandeering boss, didn't hold a grudge after all.

A quick wave of friendship for him caught Susannah unawares. It tugged at her heart and brought an involuntary smile to her face.

“What are you thinking?” Roger asked, seeing her expression.

“Nothing,” Susannah said, leaning across the table toward him and impulsively covering his hand with her own. “Just...thank you. You've been a first-rate boss and a first-rate friend, Roger.”

“And this Santori fellow?”

“What about him?”

“Do your plans for the future include him?”

“I'm not planning a future with Joe Santori,” Susannah said. “But he wouldn't be a bad choice if I were. Joe's a good man, Roger. Kind and hardworking and...well, I don't mind saying he's sexy as hell.”

Roger smiled sadly. “That sort of thing passes, Susannah. At a certain age, sex becomes unimportant.”

“Maybe to you,” Susannah shot back.

He looked surprised. “What does that mean?”

“I'd just like to give sex a chance, that's all. I feel as if I've missed out on something because I really haven't let my hair down all these years.”

“And your carpenter is a sexual athlete, is he?”

“Don't be crude, Roger.”

“Sex aside, you have to admit the man has nothing to offer you, Susannah.”

“You hardly know him!”

“Can you list one good quality?”

“Certainly. He's got a sense of humor, and his singing voice is magnificent.”

“Great. He can entertain you with singing telegrams.”

“He's also very generous, sweet and gentle, yet he...well, he challenges me. He makes me look at things differently. We enjoy the same things—music and movies and...just plain people, I guess. But he's got a different perspective, and I like it.”

Roger gazed at Susannah steadily. “Have you told him that?”

“No,” Susannah admitted. “I suppose I should.”

* * *

J
OE HAD
a terrific row with his daughter and came perilously close to forbidding her to attend the Tinsel Ball that evening.

“You can't go through life lying just for the fun of it! And lying to Susannah Atkins, of all people! If it hadn't been for the Atkins family, you'd be sitting at home tonight, the laughingstock of all your friends! And the way things look right now, you might be locked in your bedroom tonight, anyway—tonight and every night for the next four years!”

For once, Gina was chagrined by her own behavior. Her voice was barely a murmur. “I'm sorry, Dad.”

Joe ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. “You're only sorry because I'm threatening to keep you away from the dance tonight.”

“No, really.” Gina's large dark eyes were liquid with pain and humiliation. “I'm sorry I told Susannah that stuff about a girlfriend.”

“Why did you do it?” Joe demanded. “Why would you make up such a story about me?”

Gina's head drooped, and she couldn't meet his eye. “I dunno,” she mumbled.

“Just to embarrass me?”

“No, Dad. I never meant... It just slipped out, I guess. I don't know why. We've been talking about Mom a lot lately, and...well, suddenly there was this really pretty lady in our house asking questions about you. I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” Joe felt his anger drain out as if a plug had been pulled. “Afraid of what?”

Gina crumpled onto the sofa and curled up, hugging her knees against her chest. She couldn't meet her father's gaze. “Afraid you were going to forget about Mom, I guess.”

“Gina, honey...”

“I mean, I know she's dead and you miss her. That's not the problem. Before she died, Mom said you should get married again. But I didn't want another mother. I still don't.”

“A mother isn't somebody you replace, Gina. Neither is a wife. If I got married again, I wouldn't be erasing your mom.”

Gina's head snapped up. “Then you
are
thinking about getting married?”

“No! Not this minute, anyway. But someday, maybe. If the right woman came along, I suppose.”

“Is Susannah Atkins the right woman?”

Joe hadn't expected such hard questions from his daughter. For a moment he was at a loss for words. “I don't know,” he said slowly. “I've only known her a short time.”

“Well, she's okay,” Gina said gruffly. “If you had to marry somebody, I guess it could be her. She's not exactly the motherly type, is she?”

“She's herself,” Joe said.

“She doesn't try bossing me around,” Gina noted, adding darkly, “and she'd better not start.”

“I'm sure she'd have mixed feelings about dealing with you at all, young lady, after what you've done.”

Again, Gina's expression was contrite. “Did I mess things up for you, Dad?”

“Would you be happy if you did?”

“N-no,” Gina murmured. “I didn't mean to hurt you.” Joe softened with love for his daughter. Despite her troublemaking tendencies, she was still the best thing in his life. “You didn't hurt me, Gina. You caused some trouble, but nothing that can't be fixed. But
you
are going to do the fixing, my girl.”

Gina looked startled. “Me? What am I going to do?”

“You're going to get yourself over to the Atkins house before the dance and explain everything.”

“Oh, Dad!”

“I'm one hundred percent serious, Gina. You can't lie whenever it suits you and get off scot-free. You're going to tell Susannah that you lied, and then you're going to apologize.”

“Dad!” she cried in anguish.

“I've been too easy on you,” Joe said resolutely. “I've mended your fences in the past, but this time you're going to take care of it yourself. Maybe the experience will teach you a lesson that will end this lying business for good.”

“You're mean! I'll be so embarrassed!”

“Good,” Joe shot back. “Now go call Lars and tell him there will be a slight detour before the dance tonight. He can drive you over to the Atkins house to show Mrs. A. your dress. She told me last night how much fun she had helping you shop for it. The least you can do is visit her before the dance.”

Gina surprised him by saying, “I already planned to do that, Dad.”

Satisfied that he'd done his fatherly duties, Joe worked the rest of the day. He drove to Timberlake Lodge to check on the final renovations, then hurried back to the house to shower and dress.

All day he thought about what Gina had said—about marrying again. Could a woman like Susannah Atkins be happy as the wife of a simple man in a small town? Or was she cut out for the more glamorous life of a television personality?

Joe suspected he'd find out soon. The evening, he thought, promised to be very enlightening.

R
OSE WAS SURPRISED
to open her front door at six-thirty on Friday evening and find Joe Santori standing on her threshold. He looked more handsome than ever to her, and the glimmer of light in his eyes made her smile.

“You're a vision tonight, Mrs. A.!” Joe gave Rose a hard kiss on her forehead and presented her with a bunch of flowers—mostly red carnations with a jaunty plastic Santa in the middle.

“My land! Where did you get flowers in the dead of winter?”

He grinned and stepped into the house, thoughtfully closing the door behind himself. “At the supermarket. They certainly don't match your beauty tonight. Is that a new sweater?”

“This old thing? Heavens, no!” But Rose was pleased nevertheless. Joe always made her feel young. “What are you doing here? Certainly you're not coming to look at the plumbing?”

“Nope,” said Joe. “My charming daughter will be here any minute to explain. Gina and Lars Travis have gone over to his parents' house to take some pictures before the big dance. But they'd like to drop in here to show off Gina's dress—and make a few apologies.”

“Apologies for what?”

Joe lifted his palms. “My little girl has an active imagination, Mrs. A. She's been known to create a story when she sees a situation she doesn't like. I'm sorry to say that she led Susannah astray.”

“About Angelica?”

“Oh, you heard that, too?”

“Yes, we thought...” Rose hardly dared to hope.

Cheerfully, Joe said, “There
is
no Angelica. She doesn't exist. Gina saw Susannah getting too close for comfort and thought she'd try keeping us apart by making up a girlfriend for me.”

“Oh, Joe!” Rose's heart leaped. “Then you and Susannah... I mean, if something wonderful has truly happened between you two...”

Joe clasped Rose's arms fondly. “Something wonderful has certainly happened, Mrs. A. I've fallen pretty hard for your granddaughter. You'd better get a big stick if you want to keep me away from her.”

Joyously, Rose cried, “Oh, Joe, there's nothing I'd like more in the world. What a wonderful Christmas this is going to be!” She pulled him down and gave him a big kiss, laughing. Joe was one of the most appealing men she had ever known—full of vitality, strong-willed yet good-humored. “Susannah's very fond of you, too, Joe. I hope you know that.”

He winked. “I think I do.”

“Joe, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Anything.”

Suddenly not sure why she wanted an answer, but needing it just the same, Rose asked, “Will you promise to take good care of my granddaughter?”

The laughter died out of Joe's eyes, and he frowned. “Why are you asking that now, Mrs. A.?” Full of concern, he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing's wrong. I just...I want your promise, Joe. I've looked after Suzie ever since she was a little girl. She's not as strong as she looks. Inside, she's vulnerable, Joe. She needs family around her, and when I'm gone—”

“Don't,” Joe urged reprovingly. “You shouldn't say things like that. If you're truly not feeling well, let's take you over to the hospital for a—”

“No, no. I'm being practical, that's all,” Rose said, mustering a smile for him. “Will you promise?”

Joe's dark gaze searched hers for a long moment, but he nodded at last. “I promise. She's become very precious to me, Mrs. A.”

Rose smiled and felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She patted Joe thankfully and changed the subject before the moment turned maudlin. “Thank you. Now, how about an eggnog?”

“Sure. Or I could make you one of my grandmother's eggnog cocktails. She used to claim it was the only drink that could tame my grandfather on Christmas Eve. Want to try one?”

Rose smiled at Joe. She liked him very much. He was just the person she would wish for her granddaughter. “It sounds dangerous.”

“Actually, it's sneaky. The secret ingredient creeps up on you.”

Rose giggled, thoroughly enjoying Joe's high spirits. “How can I resist?”

He took her hand and wrapped it around his arm. “This way,” he said, drawing her toward the kitchen.

They were laughing together over the blender when Roger made his entrance into the kitchen, catching Joe with one of Rose's frilly aprons tied loosely around his waist. Roger froze in the doorway, clearly amazed to see a man dressed so ridiculously.

“'Evening, Selby,” Joe called cheerfully. “Want a cocktail?”

Stiffly, Roger said, “No, thanks, Santori. Susannah and I are going out shortly. I like to keep a clear head when I get behind the wheel of a car.”

“Going out? Where to?”

“The Heidelberg. I'm told we'll find the best food there.”

“Well, I'm partial to Marge's Diner, myself, but there's no accounting for taste. I can't tempt you with a cocktail, huh? Well, that just makes more for us, right, Mrs. A.?”

Roger cleared his throat. “I've just met your daughter, Santori.”