The Other Child (4 page)

“Mike, this is simply decadent!” Karen grinned as she rolled over and stretched, her long, graceful body hugging the sheets. “I feel like I’m playing hookey. You know we’ve got a million things to do today.”

“This is more important.” Mike put on a serious face. “It’s an old family custom. When you get a new bed, you have to break it in right.”

“This bed isn’t exactly new, but you do have a point.” Karen smiled, reaching out to cover his hand with her own. “Just look at this wonderful canopy. Do you realize what we’d have to pay for an antique like this? Rob told me it probably belonged to the Appletons, the family who built this place.”

“Not now, Karen.” Mike put a finger to her lips. “Antiques are the last thing on my mind. Let’s forget all about the house for today. Is it a deal?”

“But—” Karen felt a shiver that ran the length of her body as Mike’s lips touched hers. She supposed he was right. They both needed to forget about the house and the restoration for a while. They’d talked of nothing else since they moved in, three weeks ago.

Mike’s fingers caressed her lightly and Karen sighed with pleasure. Lying in this beautiful bed in the middle of a warm summer afternoon was wonderful. Lugging it down from the third floor this morning had been worth all the effort. It made the whole room into something special, into something out of another time. The four cherubs on the carved mahogany newel posts were a work of art, and the original canopy overhead made it a truly authentic piece of period furniture.

Mike’s fingertips were stroking now, smoothing her hair and then the satiny skin of her shoulders. She tried to concentrate on him and forget about all the work that needed to be done.

“Honey?” Mike nibbled at her ear. His lips traced a path to her neck and desire filled her mind. Then her arms were reaching out for him eagerly and she was lost in the joy of pure sensation.

“Mmmm . . . that’s better.” Mike smiled as he felt her response. At least her mind wasn’t on antiques now! It was almost like old times, when swift passion came upon them at delightfully unexpected moments. He remembered having her in his first darkroom at the studio, on the couch in the living room, and once in the kitchen when Leslie had been tucked into bed. Just as soon as the house was finished, it would be like that again. He’d have his darkroom right here and she’d be at home, precisely where he wanted her. Now that she didn’t have to work, he’d have a full-time wife and mother for his child. It would be a peaceful time for both of them; finally they were a real family.

“I love you, Mike,” Karen murmured, minutes later. She brushed her tangled hair back from her face and sighed with contentment. It was warm and secure under the lovely canopy and she closed her eyes against the hot, bright sunlight streaming in through the undraped windows.

“The drapes!” Karen’s eyes snapped open and she slid out from under Mike’s arm. “I’m supposed to call in the measurements for the drapes this afternoon!”

“Hey, I thought we were going to take the afternoon off.” Mike sat up and reached for her, but she eluded his grasp. She was already stepping into her terry cloth shorts as she answered him.

“It’s not really working,” Karen tried to explain. “If I don’t call in those measurements, they won’t deliver on time. I promised myself I’d have the second-floor windows done by the first of next month.”

Mike groaned and sat up. He’d counted on spending the entire afternoon in bed. Still, there was no sense staying here by himself. He might as well get up and help her.

“Damn!” He scowled as he gathered up his clothes. Karen had set some imaginary deadline for the restoration and she was bound and determined to meet it. He just didn’t understand why she was in such a hurry. She had the rest of her life to work on this house.

It wasn’t her idea of a fun afternoon, but Leslie trudged along after the girls on their way to the vacant lot. If she had her way, she wouldn’t be here at all, but Taffy Comstock had called and here she was, tagging along after a bunch of girls she barely knew.

Leslie sighed loudly as she lagged behind. These kids were a lot different from her friends in Minneapolis. In the Cities there were lots of things to do. The girls from her ballet class used to practice together and put on programs for the parents. They all went to rehearsals of plays at the Guthrie and spent afternoons at the Walker Art Museum. They had the photography club and the craft lessons at the youth center. The kids in Cold Spring weren’t interested in anything like that. These girls were only interested in boys, especially Bud Allen and Gary Wilson. It was stupid! Gary and Bud were just ordinary boys who bragged a lot and had loud voices. There must be something wrong with Taffy and the girls if they thought these two boys were so special.

“Come on, Leslie. You can be on my side.” Taffy sighed impatiently as she ran back and dragged Leslie into the group of giggling girls. “You know how to play kickball, don’t you?”

Leslie nodded quickly. There was no way she was going to admit that she’d never played before. Taffy might tell her to go home and then Mom would be disappointed. Her mother really wanted her to be friends with Taffy.

“You’ll have to leave that camera somewhere,” Taffy instructed. “Here—take it off and put it under this tree.”

Leslie swallowed hard, but she complied. It made her uneasy leaving her Leica unattended, but she wanted to please Taffy and she could keep an eye on it during the game.

“You can be up first because you’re new,” Taffy decided, nodding at the rest of the girls. “Give her a nice, easy grounder, Susie. My dad said to make sure she had a good time.”

The ball came toward her before she was ready and Leslie kicked too late, missing it entirely. A couple of the girls tittered and Leslie blushed painfully. This was harder than it looked. Next time she’d make sure to get it right.

Leslie missed the second pitch, too, catching it with her knee for a foul ball. Taffy groaned and rolled her eyes heavenward in exasperation. The redhead’s petulant sigh made Leslie even more determined. She had one pitch left and she was going to kick that red rubber ball all the way out of the vacant lot. They’d never let her play again if she kept on missing.

Leslie’s toe hit the third pitch hard and the ball soared over Susie’s head. It bounced crazily on a rock and two girls chased after it as Leslie streaked toward first base. She was just rounding second when she saw Bud Allen heading toward the tree where her camera was stashed. She stopped midway between second and third, not sure what to do. He wouldn’t take it, would he? Should she run over to make sure?

“Go, Leslie,
go
!” Taffy shouted, spurring her into action. She had to run around the bases if she wanted to score, and Leslie really wanted to show these girls that she could play their silly game right.

Another squeal from Taffy made Leslie run as if demons were chasing her, past third and straight toward home base. As she crossed the square drawn in the dirt for home, she heard Taffy’s happy shouts.

“A home run! Didn’t I tell you? Leslie’s a natural. That’s beginner’s luck if I ever saw it. Good for you, Leslie!”

Leslie laughed and panted as Taffy pounded her on the back. The girls on Taffy’s side jumped up and down and cheered. This wasn’t a silly game after all. It was fun and she’d scored. Now these girls were bound to like her.

Leslie remembered her camera and she stood on tiptoe to look over Taffy’s shoulder. In a split second her exaltation turned to alarm as she discovered Bud had her Leica.

“Hey! Look what I found!” Bud grabbed the camera and hung it around his neck. It swung wildly as he yelled at them. “Finders, keepers! Right, guys?”

“He’s got my camera!” Leslie gasped. “Oh, help me get it back, Taffy! He’ll break it!”

Taffy shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just teasing us. He does things like this all the time. When he’s through clowning around, he’ll give it back.”

“But . . .” Leslie struggled to explain. “You don’t understand, Taffy. Mike made me promise I wouldn’t let anyone touch it. It’s really expensive. Please help me get it back!”

“We’ll have to stop the game.” Taffy sighed in irritation. “Don’t make such a fuss, Leslie. I’ll call time-out.”

Taffy shouted at the girls and they came in from the field. She stared at Leslie’s worried face for a moment and then she sighed again. She’d have to get that stupid camera back somehow. If her dad heard about this, he’d have a fit. He’d given her strict orders to take care of Leslie.

“Come on, Bud—the fun’s over!” Taffy called out in a loud voice. “Bring that camera over here and give it back to Leslie.”

Bud made a face. “I found it and I’m going to keep it!” he hollered back. “I’ll take a nice picture of you girls if you hold still.”

“He’s taking pictures!” Leslie’s voice was shocked. “He’s going to ruin my film, Taffy!”

“Oh, all right.” Taffy was resigned. “I’ll get your camera back for you if you’re that freaked.”

Taffy took off running while Bud was squinting through the viewfinder. He didn’t realize she was there until she jumped on him, knocking him to the ground. They rolled over and over as Leslie watched, horrified. Her Leica was going to get broken it they kept on wrestling in the dirt.

“
Ouch!
All right . . .
All right!
Take the stupid camera!”

Bud pulled away from Taffy and she grabbed at the camera. There was an audible snap as the strap broke. Bud stood glaring at Taffy, with his hands on his hips. He was breathing hard through his mouth. His face was red and he looked mad enough to grab Taffy and break her in little pieces. There was a long bleeding scratch on the inside of his arm and he winced as he touched it.

“Somebody ought to lock you up in a cage or something!” he shouted, waving his fist in the air as Taffy backed off a couple of steps. “Come on, guys. Let’s go somewhere more peaceful, and play by ourselves, away from these dumb girls.”

Taffy picked up the Leica and dusted it off as best she could. Her face was bitter with disappointment as she carried it back to Leslie. She handed it over, grimacing.

“Now look what you did!” she hissed. “If you’d just waited until he had his fun, everything would be fine. Now all the boys are leaving!”

The girls stood like wooden statues, watching the boys swagger from the vacant lot. Then a heavy silence followed and they turned to stare at Leslie resentfully.

Leslie drew her breath in sharply. For some reason they were all mad at her! She hadn’t done anything wrong. They were all mad at her because the boys had left.

Taffy shifted and sighed morosely. “I’ve had it,” she declared. “I’m going home to take a bath. Wrestling Bud for that stupid camera got me all dirty.”

In groups of twos and threes the girls walked off, leaving Leslie standing alone at home plate. Even though she didn’t understand how she was at fault, they were all mad at her. Not one girl stopped to say good-bye.

Leslie looked down at her camera and blinked hard. The case was scratched and the leather strap dangled uselessly from one ring. She had taken such good care of it and now it was all dirty and scratched. It might even be broken. What was Mike going to say?

She cradled the Leica protectively against her chest and walked slowly to the street. It was a mistake, trying to be friends with these kids. They were mean, blaming her for something that wasn’t her fault, and she wouldn’t play with them again, even if her mother insisted. She’d be better off staying home, with no friends at all.

They were sitting at the kitchen table when she got home. Leslie came in haltingly, carrying her wounded camera.

“I think my Leica’s broken,” she admitted in a small voice. “Bud Allen had it and he and Taffy were wrestling. I think they broke it, Mike.”

Mike groaned as he saw the scratched case. “What was Bud Allen doing with your camera? I told you not to let anyone else use it.”

“I didn’t!” Leslie protested. “I was playing kickball and Taffy said to leave it by the tree. Bud stole it and Taffy had to fight him to get it back. Then Bud got mad because Taffy scratched him and all the boys left. Now the girls are mad at me and I didn’t do anything!”

“Of course you didn’t,” Karen said soothingly, pulling Leslie close. “They won’t stay mad for long, honey, you just wait and see. They’ll forget all about it by tomorrow.”

Mike shook his head and sighed deeply as he turned the Leica over in his hands. “If you’d left it at home, this never would have happened. Do you realize this is a five-hundred-dollar camera, Leslie? Let’s just hope I can fix it and that the lens is intact. If I have to send it out for repairs, it won’t be back for months.”

“I’m sorry, Mike.” Leslie’s face clouded over and tears rose in her eyes. “I guess it was stupid, taking it along. I just thought I might come across a one-of-a-kind picture, something special.”

One look at Leslie and Mike relented. The broken camera was clearly an accident and he could tell she was miserable about it.

“Hey. I broke a couple of cameras that way myself when I was a kid,” Mike admitted. “Come on, now, cheer up, honey. I’ll take it up to the darkroom tonight and see what I can do. Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”