One Pink Line (33 page)

“So, how about that Double-Double?” he slapped the table.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

Patch picked me up from the airport when I landed back in Chicago, and drove me home to Glenview, where we lived. It was a Sunday night and my parents were out to dinner at a friend’s house for their weekly supper club. I loved that no one made a fuss over my encounter with Kevin. I’d already called my mom the night I met up with him for dinner, filled her in on everything, and patiently answered her horde of questions. She was silent when I told her all the remorseful things he’d said, and I could almost hear her grinning.

My dad came in my room around midnight when they got home from their dinner party to see how my flight was.

“Was Patch there on time?”

“Yeah, he’s a little rusty on the expressway’s though.”

“We’re working on that,” he said. “So, how’s big Kev?”

We smirked at each other. “Oh, you mean my father?”

“Yeah.”

I was sitting on my bed with my laptop resting on my outstretched legs. “He may be six-foot-five, but you’re a much bigger person, Dad,” I said and gave him a wink.

“Smart girl,” he smiled, flashing his chipped front tooth.

“I Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Gracie.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Sydney

I
t was Christmas Eve, and Grace was almost two years old. Midge left the Intercontinental to work for a property in Scottsdale, near her ailing mother, and Keri and I were promoted to co-supervisors. Trevor had left months before to work for Playboy, in the promotions department of their Chicago headquarters, so Keri and I had a staff of three new college grads. It was tempting to put them through the same misery that we endured when we started, but neither she nor I could pull it off.

The holidays were always much more fun with Grace around. Everyone in the family lived vicariously though her and her overwhelming excitement for all things swathed in wrapping paper. My mom bought her a doll that came with a miniature tea set, doll-sized table and chairs and two outfits with matching shoes. She individually wrapped every piece in the set, each cup, each shoe, each saucer, etc. And Grace had the time of her life tearing through the pile. After dinner with Kendra and my parents, I took Grace over to the Reynolds’ house to have dessert with Ethan and his family. His mother opened the door and led me to another ridiculous pile of gifts for my daughter, but all Grace really wanted anytime we went over there, was my high-school nemesis, Sparky.

“Barky! Barky!” Grace would yell as we entered Ethan’s childhood home.

Mrs. Reynolds reached out her arms, asking Grace permission to carry her, but Grace shook her head, no. “Alright then, hold my hand, and we’ll go look for Sparky.”

They didn’t have to go very far, because a second later he exploded into the living room, his nails clicking along the hardwood floor as he ran.

“Barky!” her eyes lit up.

“There he is!” Mrs. Reynolds squealed with her.

Ethan appeared at the entry to the room and waved for me to quietly escape with him.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” I said to Grace and Mrs. Reynolds, but they were long gone.

Ethan took my hand and I followed him downstairs to the basement, where he’d made his own buffet of sweets for me, along with a coffee and Baileys.

“Does your mother know you’ve pilfered her dessert buffet?”

“She’s busy with Barky,” he said.

I took a sip from the warm mug in front of me. “You have my word, that I will never buy a dog for Grace, no matter how hard she begs or how many tears stream down those pudgy cheeks of hers.”

“Sure you won’t.”

“I won’t, I am just not a dog person.”

He leaned back into the chenille couch. “Well, maybe I’ll buy her one then?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He scooted closer to me, and had a stern look on his face that made me shudder.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, and placed the mug back on the table.

There was an awkward pause.

“I want to adopt Grace.” His eyes were glistening.

The words were both comforting and confusing, even though they were quite clearly spoken. “What do you mean, why do you want to adopt her?”

“I want her to have a father, one that she deserves, and I love her,” he said without removing his eyes from my face.

“I don’t know what to say,” I choked up. “She loves you too…I love you.”

“Say, yes, then,” Ethan reached under the couch in front of me and pulled out a small, velvet black box. A signature of his. “I did a little research though…and you’ll have to marry me first,” he smiled.