Part 37 (1/2)
Thirty minutes later he was on her doorstep, ringing the bell.
Harry opened it, looked at the two big boxes in his hand and grinned. ”Pizza,” he exclaimed.
Liz reached the door then, wiping her hands with a cloth.
”Hi,” he said. ”I was getting a pizza and decided I didn't want to eat alone. I hoped you and Harry would share them with me.”
”Them? That's a lot of pizza.”
He s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably at the door.
”Where's Jenny?” she asked.
”At a sleep over.”
She was not welcoming. Then she smiled, and it was as if the sun just entered the room. ”Thank you. I 'am' hungry, and pizza comes second only to tacos in Harry's opinion.”
”I'm a taco man myself,” he said, grinning down at Harry.
He stepped inside and looked over in the corner of the room where she'd established a work area. ”I hope you don't mind. I don't usually barge in on people, but I was at the restaurant and I thought of Harry. I won't stay if you don't want. But--”
”I don't mind at all,” she broke in. ”It was thoughtful.”
Relief. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she didn't have anything to hide. Or anything to fear. He hoped to G.o.d not.
He took out the pizzas while she got some napkins.
”I got a pepperoni and cheese, and one with the works.”
”They smell wonderful. What would you like to drink? Cola? Or water?”
”Cola sounds great.”
They sat around a small wobbly table. Harry waited until he was offered a piece, then ate carefully. Too carefully for a small boy.
Liz's gaze met his. d.a.m.n, but her eyes were soft. Gentle. Her lips looked inviting.
He took a piece and decided it tasted a great deal better with company than without it. ”I didn't know whether you would like pizza.”
”Hmm. I love it. I haven't eaten today, either.”
She looked beautiful with tomato sauce on her lips. He wanted to ask her about taking Harry riding on the weekend, but he knew how much a parent hated being put on the spot in front of her child. He would do it later.
”How are the sculptures doing?” he asked.
”Marty said they're selling out.”
”Good. Does that mean you will stay with us awhile?”
She took another bite of pizza, not answering immediately.
”Or will you return to Chicago?”
”Why?” She met his question directly.
”Family?”
”I don't have any. My mother and father are both dead.”
”I'm sorry,” he said, feeling immensely uncomfortable.
He didn't want to interrogate her. He wanted to enjoy these few moments. h.e.l.l, he wanted her to enjoy them even more.
He refrained from asking more questions, hoping against hope that she might come to trust him with more answers than she'd given thus far. He paced his eating to theirs, and when he'd taken the last bite he pushed away from the table. ”Thanks for letting me stay.”
”I could hardly refuse a hungry man with pizza,” she said with a hint of a smile. Since it was one of the few she'd gifted him with, he felt a fuzzy warmth inside.
He wanted to ask her out for a real date. h.e.l.l, he wanted to lean over and kiss her.
Most of all, he wanted to pierce the mystery that enveloped her. He put the leftover pizza into the box and followed her out to the kitchen as Harry munched on some cheese sticks that had been included.
Once out of hearing of Harry, he asked his question. ”I'm taking Jenny to the ranch Sat.u.r.day. Would you and Harry like to go?”
He saw the swift denial on her face but she never put it into words. Instead he watched desire war with caution. ”We'd like that,” she said almost defiantly.
”Good. I'll be here at nine. Perhaps some breakfast along the way?”
She nodded. ”Thank you for not asking in front of Harry.”
He suddenly realized that his decision in that one matter had opened her door to him.
But even while that thought pleased him, he felt a deeper disquiet. She was opening up to him. Ever so slightly. He felt traitorous. As low as he ever had felt in his career.
He decided to give up his queries.
'NEW ORLEANS'.
Meredith looked around at the mourners. Her heart was numb. Nothing seemed real. It was as if she were an onlooker watching the drama and grief of others.
Was someone here a murderer?
Everyone was solicitous. But she sat alone in the second pew of the packed church. Sarah and Becky, she knew, were at her father's house, helping to supervise caterers for the gathering after the funeral. She'd invited Mrs. Edwards, the housekeeper, to sit with her but the woman declined. She wanted to sit in the back.
Meredith had always been alone but she was even more alone now.
She had looked for Gage, but he hadn't come. She had told him she needed s.p.a.ce. He'd apparently taken her at her word.
She tried to listen to the service. Her father had once been an active member of the church and had, with his wife, continued to give tens of thousands of dollars although he seldom attended. She listened to her father's character extolled.