Page 17 of Vincent
"We'll see."
David started to argue but then decided to wait and see. And besides, they were here. Flinging the door open as soon as the car stopped in front of the wraparound porch, he unhooked his car seat before his dad could come around and do it for him.
"Easy, buddy." Taking hold of the impatient boy, Vincent reached in for the overnight bag and closed the door.
They were met at the front door by Jessica Willoughby, a lovely slip of a woman with a gracious smile. "Ah, my favorite dark-haired urchin." A genuine smile lit up her face as she hugged David. "Go right upstairs, darling. Charley is waiting."
"We're getting pizza!"
"No running." Vincent shook his head as his son raced along the long hallway and up the stairs.
"Boys will be boys. Won't you come in?"
"Have to hurry back. Dinner party." Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. "Where's Bert?"
"Out with some clients." She touched his arm briefly. "Don't worry about coming back for him tomorrow. We have an entireday planned. A trip to the zoo and children's museum and then supper. He won't be back until in the night."
"You're the best," Vincent told her with a grateful smile. Squeezing her hand, he stepped back and with a wave, bounded down to his car.
He had time to think and found himself glancing in the rearview mirror at the empty car seat. He was so accustomed to seeing his son back there that it had become a habit to simply look back to talk to him. And the silence had him thinking. About her. His hand tightened on the wheel as he recalled the scene inside the kitchen. It had staggered him seeing her there. And the natural way she had interacted with his son.
She had enchanted the boy. She had not portrayed the usual awkwardness of most adults when confronted the first time with a child, but had fallen in naturally, putting David at ease.
She would make an exceptional mother, the thought came unbidden to him and had him frowning. Shaking his head, he concentrated fiercely on something else for the duration of the journey.
*****
"Hi." He felt foolish, just standing there inside his mother's kitchen. He had thought briefly about going upstairs to don the clothes he had brought with him, but something had him branching off to the kitchen.
"Hi." She looked up from the pretty display of colorful pastries she was arranging on a silver four-tiered stand. "Was David crying and clinging to you when you left?"
His grin warmed her heart as he came forward. "He was distressingly eager to get rid of his old man. Any chance-" He jumped when she slapped his hand without missing a beat.
"Hey."
"You'll get the opportunity to gorge when you're having dessert."
"I just wanted one." He rubbed his hand over where she had slapped him.
"And it would have messed up my arrangement."
Viola took that moment to sail into the kitchen, looking sleek and lovely in a teal blue silk dress. Her blonde hair was styled inan elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, and her bottle-green eyes were sharp with curiosity as she took in the scene.
Her daughter had brought her up to speed, but she would have surmised that something was up with her son and the pastry chef just by looking. She was hoping and praying that this was the chance for her son to be happy again. It pained her seeing the haggard and unhappy look on his face.
"Darling, you need to get dressed. Our guests are starting to arrive. Oh, my dear!" she gushed, clapping her hands together in delight. "What a presentation."
"Your son tried to steal one. I had to disabuse him of that plan."
"She slapped me."
Viola hid her startled look admirably. "Good for you, Althea. Now go, darling."
He turned away and stopped at the doorway. "Ah, will you be leaving shortly?"
She shook her head. "Not right now. Viola said I could enjoy a glass of wine and rest a little before leaving."
"I'll see you before I leave."
