What Matters Most (19 page)

“Well, have you? Had dinner, I mean.”

“No, but it’s ready. I’m eating at home this evening, and I’d better get downstairs, or Vernie will be unhappy with me.”

“Is she a good cook?”

“The best, but we’re not off the subject of you and me. What did you call me last night when you told me good-night?”

She’d expected that. “I probably said, ‘Good night, Jack.’”

“Liar. You said, ‘Good night, love,’ and I want to hear you say it again. That rang in my ears so softly and so sweetly that I couldn’t get to sleep for hours.”

“Surely you don’t want to stay awake half of tonight, too.”

“Woman, if you really put yourself to it, you’d drive me batty. Kiss me good-night.”

She made the sound of a kiss. “Good night, love.”

He returned her kiss, and after a few seconds, he said, “Good night, love.”

Her hands shook as she placed the receiver in its cradle. They had talked to each other as intimates. He’d come close to telling her how he wanted her to make love to him, and she had let him know that she’d pull out the stops. He knew she’d told the truth.

She ordered her dinner and vowed that she’d find a dining companion the next day and be more sociable. If truth were known, though, she was so used to being with Jack or looking forward to being with him that socializing with others—men or women—never occurred to her.

While waiting for her dinner, she let her mind travel back over the past six months. Not only had her life changed for the better after she’d moved away from her father, but her personality seemed to have burst into a new dimension. Or was it because Jack’s appreciation for her work and his trust in her strengthened her self-confidence?

Don’t fool yourself, girl,
her conscience niggled.
When a man like Jack Ferguson shows a deep interest in a woman, her self-confidence is bound to soar and her personality can’t help but bloom.

Jack hung up, slipped his feet into his house slippers and went downstairs to eat dinner. He took his dinner in the breakfast room, a relatively small room whose entire outer wall consisted of a huge picture window. He liked to sit there on Sunday mornings and watch the hummingbirds that came to the feeder. The small stream flowing through the property had been one of his reasons for purchasing this land on which to build his house. And from the north edge of the window, he could see the swimming pool. He could also see a part of his deck. The thought occurred that Melanie might not like living out there so far from the city.

“Where did that come from?” he asked aloud.

He had everything except someone with whom to share his life. “I’m damned if I’ll sink into that,” he said, then finished his desert and took his dishes to the kitchen.

“Vernie, that was a first-class meal.”

“Thank you, Doc. It seems a pity, though, to cook that kind of meal for one person. You need a dinner companion.”

“I know that, Vernie, so don’t start lecturing to me about it. My dad’s on my case, and that’s irritating enough.”

“Well, I hope he makes some headway,” Vernie said in her usual irreverent manner. He ignored it, went upstairs to his den and prepared for his meeting with Telford Harrington, whose company would build the clinic and restructure his office for a laboratory.

He thought of the changes he’d observed in Melanie since she began working for him and wondered how they came about. He knew that leaving her father had given her freedom, but he couldn’t pinpoint the rest. She remained the sweet, feminine, soft woman who had a commendable work ethic, who knew her job and enjoyed doing it. And he figured she would always care deeply about people, especially those in need. But there was more, and he couldn’t pinpoint it. Whatever it was, he wanted as much of it as he could get.

He didn’t like doing business on Sunday, but Harrington was busy that Saturday, and he couldn’t go to Eagle Park during the work week. He drove the Town Car into the circle at number ten, John Brown Drive in Eagle Park, not far from Frederick, got out and looked around. Wealth. No doubt about that. He rang the bell, the door opened and a man who seemed to be about seventy peered out at him.

“Hi.”

He followed the sound, looked down and saw a charming little girl of around six. “Good morning, I’m Dr. Jack Ferguson. Is Telford Harrington here?”

“Hi, Dr. Ferguson,” the little girl said.

“Come on in,” the man said, “and have a seat right in there.” He pointed to what Jack assumed was the living room.

The girl walked with him. “I’m Tara, and you came to see my dad. Do you want him to build you a house or something?”

Before he could say yes, she continued. “Please have a seat. Would you like some water while my dad’s coming?”

If ever he saw a reason for a man to marry and have a family, he was looking at it. The child captivated him. Her warm smile and easy way with a stranger told him that she was loved and that she had a special niche in the lives of the adults with whom she lived.

“How old are you, Tara?”

“I’m six and a half, Dr. Ferguson, and I have a new little brother. Where do you live?”

“I live in Baltimore, Tara. I assume you go to school.”

“Yes, sir. I love school, and I love to read and write and play the piano. Would you like to see Biscuit? He used to be my puppy, but he grew up.”

“Hello. Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Telford Harrington, and I see you’ve met my daughter.”

Jack stood and shook the man’s hand. “I’m glad to meet you. You’re a lucky man to be the father of this charming child. An adult female couldn’t have entertained me in a more delightful way.”

“For a while, she was the only child among five adults—four men and her mother—and she learns quickly. She’s also very much at ease with adults. My brothers will be here soon, so if you want any changes in the design, you’ll be able to discuss them with Russ. I liked what he did, but you’re the one we want to please,” Telford said.

“I like it, too, very much, but I want to ask him some questions.

“How long do you estimate it will take to erect this structure? I figured about eight months.”

“Maybe less,” Telford assured him. “Russ looked at the plot, but I haven’t seen it. I’ll put my permanent crew on it, so we should bring it in about six months if there’re no hitches in the installation of all this special medical equipment.”

The doorbell rang, and he’d never seen anybody move as fast as Tara shot up from her chair and raced to the door.

“Uncle Russ! Uncle Drake!” he heard her exclaim.

“How’s my best girl?”

“We’ve got company, Uncle Drake, and I think Dr. Ferguson—that’s his name—wants to see Uncle Russ.”

Jack stood when the two imposing men entered the room, each holding one of Tara’s hands. He shook hands with them, and in only a few minutes he knew he’d done the right thing: the clinic was in good hands, and he understood the basis for the Harrington Brothers’ reputation as builders.

“It will be completely wheelchair accessible,” Russ said, and Jack relaxed, because he’d been concerned about that.

“I want to meet your medical engineer as soon as you can manage it,” Drake, engineer for the company, told him, “because that engineer will have something to say about the placement of equipment.”

The man who had opened the door for him walked in and interrupted them. “Lunch is ready, and if you don’t eat it now, it’ll get cold.” Tara jumped up, ran to the man, took his hand and walked off with him. Was the man the cook? He didn’t wear a uniform, and he didn’t mind interrupting, either.

“We may continue at lunch,” Telford said. They entered what he guessed was the breakfast room, because a house that big would have a much larger and more elegantly appointed dining room. When they paused at the door, Tara looked up at him, smiled and said, “We’re waiting for my mommy. She’ll be here in a minute because she’s never late for meals.”

Jack resisted the urge to pick her up and hug her. He looked up just as a tall, willowy beauty approached. “My wife, Alexis Harrington,” Telford said, with pride that even a child could discern.

Her smile welcomed him. “I’m happy to meet you, Dr. Ferguson. Please join us for lunch.” Russ said grace and the man who had opened the door to him walked into the room with a huge covered tureen.

“Dr. Ferguson, this is Henry Wilkerson, our cook, surrogate father and judge penitent,” Telford said. “Whatever you find that’s wrong with us brothers, you can blame on Henry, because it’s his fault.”

“He’s absolutely right,” Henry said. “I should’ve taken a stick to ’em, but I felt sorry for ’em and didn’t do it. Yep, it’s me own fault.”

Jack stayed with the Harringtons longer than he had intended. “It’s insufferably hot,” Russ said, “and I’m dying for a swim. One of Telford’s bathing shorts should fit you,” he said to Jack, “so why don’t we cool off in the pool? Unless you have an appointment.”

“Right,” Telford said. “Man, it’s Sunday. How about it?”

“Yeah,” Drake said. “I’ll call my wife, and tell her I’ll see her around five.”

“Velma’s not expecting me back right away,” Russ said. “Give us something to change into, Telford.”

They were inside an air-conditioned house, so Jack didn’t understand Russ’s comment about the insufferable heat. Maybe the man just loved to swim.

By the time they’d swum for an hour, Alexis and Tara came out to the pool with a huge jug of lemonade, glasses, plates and a basket of cinnamon-raisin cookies. The four men sat on the edge of the pool with their feet dangling in the water, talking, drinking lemonade and eating some of the best cookies he’d ever tasted. It occurred to him that he missed a lot by not having buddies with whom to pass leisurely moments. Had he not been with these people right now he’d be at home on his deck reading a medical journal or, if he’d finished that, the
New York Times
.

“I’ll be old before I begin to enjoy life,” he said to himself, “and there are going to be some changes made.” Until Melanie entered his world, his social life had consisted of appearances at various social affairs with different socialites and aspiring wives. That was behind him; he was through with all that superficiality. This was what life should be like: work that you loved and relaxation with your woman, your children, your friends and close relatives.

He’d done more than verify the plans for the clinic; he’d begun to sort out his life options, and he felt as if several hundred pounds had dropped from his shoulders.

“Come back to see us,” they told him.

“Yes,” Alexis said, “and bring your girl. You’re welcome to spend the night. It’s lovely here this time of year, and especially in the autumn when the leaves begin to turn.”

“Right,” Henry said. “I do the best barbecue anywhere near these parts. You come back. You hear?”

Tara ran to him and grasped his hand. “Bye, Dr. Ferguson. When you come back, I’ll play the piano for you.”

Totally captivated by the child’s directness and charm, Jack knelt and hugged her. “You’re a charming little girl, and I am really happy that I met you.” He kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, Tara.”

He told them he’d come back, and he intended to do that. He hadn’t felt so relaxed and free of stress in he didn’t know when. He’d love to have Melanie with him in this environment, away from the office and the hustle of the city. He could take her to his home, but their relationship was still at the stage where she’d be uncomfortable alone there with him. With others around, she would be much more at ease. Yes, it was the perfect setting for lovers. And if she didn’t think they were lovers, he meant to show her.

He drove fast, because he had to be at home by eight o’clock when Melanie called. He wanted to share with her the splendor of his afternoon at Eagle Park. He arrived home minutes before the phone rang. She knew his cell-phone number, but he knew she wouldn’t use it, because they had agreed that, in the evenings, she would call him on the house number. He didn’t care one way or the other, but he had suggested it so she’d know he was at home and not out with a date.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said when he answered the phone.

“Suppose it hadn’t been me,” she said. “You’d have had some explaining to do.”

“To whom? I’m free, unmarried and not engaged.” If it had been Elaine, she’d have had something approximating a stroke, but that wouldn’t have worried him. “Did you get any rest today?”

“No. I’d promised myself I’d try to make some friends, so I went to the African-American Museum against my best judgment. It is a fantastic, fascinating place and definitely worth several visits, but it pains me physically and depresses me to look at tangible reminders of slavery. It’s something I’m happy to be ignorant about. I see enough of its consequences every day of my life.”

“Can’t say I disagree with you. You feel passionately about things, don’t you? I like that.”

“So do you, Jack. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have that second office and you wouldn’t be planning a clinic across the street from it. I saw Alice Hawkins today. She’s a happy woman because Midge is getting care. She said Midge had the procedure this morning. She said she made cranberry scones on the TV show yesterday, and you should have seen her grinning.”

He told her about his visit with the Harrington brothers. “That little girl sank into me like a hook. I’ve never seen a child with her manners, grace and intelligence. And charm. She has more than her share of that. As I was leaving, I hugged her. You will love her. I promised Telford’s wife that I’d bring you to visit when I go back. So since I’ve committed you, you can’t let me down.” He’d shocked her, but he didn’t care. He could almost see her jaw go slack.

“You told those people about me?”

“N-no, but I’m telling you.”

“In that case, thanks for letting me in on it.”

“Do you object?” he asked her. A cold dampness seeped into him while he waited for her answer.

“I…uh…I guess not.”

“You
guess
not?” he roared.

“Actually, it makes me proud to think you’d introduce me as your girlfriend.”

It was his turn to be speechless. “Thank you. That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”