No Place Like Home Page 11

  “Think about it,” he advised, and his car sped away.

  Kaye’s apartment was bleak and lonely. She didn’t want to go in, she thought as she turned the key. She didn’t want to be alone.

  Omar came to greet her, but even his welcoming purr had an accusing quality. She sat on the couch in the darkness and stroked the cat’s soft white fur and thought about what Brendan had said.

  “He’s absolutely crazy,” she told Omar. “To think that I would want to postpone my wedding—to suggest that I might not know what I’m doing...”

  It made her so furious that she squeezed the cat, who protested loudly. “Sorry, Omar,” she said. “But the amateur psychologist has it all wrong.”

  Nora Farrell’s house would not have appealed to her at all, Kaye thought, if she had seen it earlier. It was only after a fruitless search that she was willing to even consider such a project. If, to have the grand house that they wanted, she and Graham had to delay their wedding for a few months, then they would do that. It didn’t make it an ideal solution, but it would be worth it in the long run.

  Nora Farrell’s house had been a home once, and it could be again. It had been beautiful once, and it could be again. With, she told herself honestly, a great deal of work, and money, and time.

  She sat there in the dark for nearly an hour, thinking about the house. Away from its atmosphere of decayed charm, and restored to a more realistic frame of mind, she finally admitted the truth to herself. Unless he fell in love with it as she had—a prospect that even Kaye thought was less than likely—Graham would not be willing to put money into a house in that neighborhood.

  Brendan had been right about that; the preservation district might reach out to include Nora’s street, and it might not. To Graham, it would be a gamble not worth taking, no matter how wonderful the result might be. Nora Farrell’s house would probably never return the money invested in it, and so there was no point in even discussing such a project with Graham.

  That conclusion did not make her feel at peace. “I’m the one who will be spending all my time there,” Kaye told Omar. “Shouldn’t I be able to have what I want?”

  He stopped purring, and Kaye realized how very self-pitying she must sound. Here she was, complaining about which house she would end up living in, knowing very well that anything Graham agreed to buy would be a showplace—a home any woman in the city would envy her.

  Meanwhile, there were people like Nora Farrell, who through no fault of her own had been put out of her home and was now reduced to living in a tiny room in a house where she was not even welcome. No one even cared about her except Brendan...

  Brendan.

  Had she been, perhaps, a little too hard on him tonight? He had shown himself to be soft-hearted, and even perhaps a bit sentimental, and after all, it had only been a kiss. Kaye wasn’t in the habit of thinking herself irresistible, but maybe they had been spending too much time alone together. Perhaps she had accidentally left him with some mistaken impressions.

  And as for her own reactions to him—well, the man was certainly attractive. She could hardly be blamed for giving in to that impulse to enjoy being kissed, being held. It certainly didn’t mean that there was anything sinister about it.

  “If Graham just wasn’t so busy this week,” she told Omar, “it would never have happened at all.” Not that it was Graham’s fault, exactly, she told herself hastily. He couldn’t help being so very busy at the factory. But she was lonely. Brendan must have felt that, too, and taken it as encouragement.

  Not that he had been serious either, Kaye told herself with a flicker of relief. “One kiss does not lead to any thing more serious,” she announced, “and both of us made that very clear.”

  Should she just find another real estate agent? That might be the simplest way, but she dreaded the idea of going through all of those preliminaries again. She thought it over and decided that surely nothing so drastic would be necessary. Besides, she reflected, it just didn’t seem fair, after Brendan had done all that work, to drop him now and go to someone else.

  She’d just have to be more careful when she was around him in the future, she decided, and went to bed with a mind at rest.

  *****

  Sunday brunch at Claudia’s was something of a tradition, Graham told Kaye when he came to get her that morning, and Claudia’s greeting was almost an echo. “Graham comes to brunch whenever he can,” Claudia told her. “Sunday morning is one of the few times when business doesn’t intrude.”

  “I’m afraid that’s the way the business is, Mother. In fact, I have to fly to Colorado tonight. We’ve got an unacceptable bacteria level in the plant out there, and no one can find out where it’s coming from.”

  Kaye sipped her tomato juice, and wondered if he meant it was all right for there to be some bacteria in the baby food, as long as it wasn’t too much.

  Better not ask, she told herself. This is not the time to start learning about his business.

  “Well, push it to the back of your mind and enjoy your brunch,” Claudia ordered him. “Why don’t you take your skis and have a day’s vacation, as long as you have to be out there anyway?”

  “Skis?” Graham looked at Claudia as if she was a museum exhibit. “I’ve never owned skis, Mother.”

  “So rent them.” Claudia turned to Kaye. “You don’t know how much I hope that you can teach this serious son of mine to have a little fun,” she said. “How is the house-hunting coming along, by the way?”

  “Slowly,” Kaye said.

  Graham looked at her with a sidelong smile. “It shouldn’t be,” he said. “You’ve been spending enough time with your real estate agent to find a dozen houses.”

  He sounded cheerful enough, but Kaye was uneasy. “Yes, I have,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “But there was something wrong with each one of them. So we kept looking.”

  “At Maxie’s Bar? Angela Warren told me she saw you there with him one afternoon.”

  Kaye had almost forgotten the incident. “Oh, that,” she said casually, horribly aware that Claudia’s sapphire eyes were fixed on her with silent interest. “Brendan and I thought we’d found the perfect house that day—you know, the one in Henderson Heights that you thought was too small. We were going to celebrate when we ran into Angela.”

  It sounded like a pathetic excuse, she thought. And the fact that it was absolutely true didn’t make her feel less guilty. You should have told him earlier, she lectured herself. Angela Warren was a notorious gossip, determined always to know every detail of every story. It was inevitable that she would have mentioned it to Graham.

  “I’ve had lunch with him a couple of times, too,” she added stiffly.

  Graham gave her an indulgent smile. “I’m only teasing, Kaye. Surely you don’t think I’m the jealous sort, do you?”

  “Of course not,” she said. She should feel better, she told herself. Of course Graham wasn’t jealous. But then, he didn’t know everything, either. He didn’t know that she’d had waffles at Brendan’s apartment last Sunday morning, and he didn’t know about that kiss—

  Stop it, she told herself. There was nothing important about either of those things, and there was nothing for Graham to be jealous of.

  “Though as far as houses are concerned,” Graham said, “I’m beginning to think I’ll have to take a hand in it if we’re ever going to get anywhere.”

  “I wish you would,” Kaye said. At least then he would understand the frustration, she thought.

  “I will when I get back,” he said. “There are a couple that Andy Winchester thinks might be quite satisfactory. I just don’t quite trust this man of yours, Kaye, though I do understand now why he sells houses and not commercial real estate. It’s because his charm works better when he’s dealing with emotional women instead of businessmen.”

  Kaye thought that one over. Before she could quite decide whether she had been insulted, the maid set an omelet before her. Steam rose gently from the golden-brown surf
ace, curling around the red rose that garnished the plate.

  “In all the planning for a house,” Claudia said, “don’t forget that as soon as you’ve set a date we’ll have to get started on the wedding plans. I don’t suppose you’ve given a thought to your china and crystal patterns. And if you’re to have a really wonderful trip, you’ll have to make reservations soon.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” Graham said. “If we were to go to Europe, I could visit some of the manufacturers over there, and perhaps bring home some improvements.”

  “Graham,” his mother said flatly. “Honeymoons should not be turned into business trips. Don’t you think you should ask Kaye where she’d like to go?”

  Kaye took a thoughtful bite of her omelet and thought about it. “The Bahamas,” she said dreamily. She had always wanted to see the Caribbean, but this winter the dream had grown steadily stronger, until it was almost a hunger.

  “The Bahamas?” Graham sounded disbelieving. “But it will be summer, Kaye.”

  I’m not so sure, she reflected. If we don’t find a house soon, it might be next winter before we’re married. And Brendan thinks that I wouldn’t care if it was next year, she reminded herself. Well, Brendan was wrong.

  “Why the Bahamas, anyway?” he asked.

  “I suppose it’s because there’s a travel agency in town offering a one-day tour. It’s been hard not to think about Nassau when I hear about it all the time.”

  Claudia wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. “One day? That would scarcely give you a taste of the island.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Kaye said. “But it’s a package that even I could afford, except that I’ve been taking so much time off work lately to look at houses.”

  “Go,” Graham said. “Get it out of your system. I don’t find the idea very appealing, myself, but if that’s the kind of thing you like...”

  “I told you,” Kaye said. “I can’t afford it right now. My last paycheck was a little sparse.”

  Graham smiled. “Darling, you don’t think that really matters? I know you’re not earning much at that agency, and of course you’ll have to stop working before the wedding.”

  “What do you mean, of course?”

  He looked startled. “You’ll be busy with the plans. It doesn’t matter – I fully expect to take care of your outstanding bills when we’re married, Kaye. For sensible things,” he added quickly. “Living expenses. Don’t go charging any diamond necklaces to me, now, just because I said I’d pay your debts.”

  For an instant, she wasn’t quite sure that she had heard correctly. The words seemed to ring through her head, and fury boiled up in her. So he’s going to take care of my debts, is he? she thought. I suppose I should accept that as a generous compliment, but I’m afraid I can’t.

  “I don’t have any debts, Graham.” She kept her voice level with an effort. “I don’t believe in relying on anyone to rescue me from my own foolishness, and I have every intention of keeping my job and earning my own spending money for a while, at least. And as for the idea that I would have the nerve to go charge mink coats and trips to the Caribbean to you before we’re married—” Despite her best intentions, her voice was rising.

  Claudia intervened. “Of course you wouldn’t, Kaye,” she said. “And Graham, while it’s very thoughtful of you to help Kaye out financially because she’s taking time off work to look for a house, you must respect her desire to be independent.”

  Graham looked a bit sulky, as if he didn’t have the least idea why Kaye would be angry at his generous gesture.

  “But perhaps you could give her this trip,” Claudia went on.

  “I couldn’t take it,” Kaye said. “To take a trip promoted by another travel agency would be grounds for losing my job.”

  “Are you certain of that?” Claudia asked.

  “No. I mean, Marilyn hasn’t actually said that. But I can’t imagine that she’d like it, and I wouldn’t even want to ask.”

  “In any case, I wasn’t really thinking of that trip,” Claudia said. “You’d want three days at least, and better yet a week. Surely your own agency could make arrangements.”

  “With the house-hunting and everything, I don’t think it would be a good idea to ask for that much time off right now,” Kaye said. “I guess I’ll have to wait till next winter.” She tried to smile. “Besides, I’d have to make some sort of arrangements for my cat if I was going to be gone that long.”

  Claudia looked interested, and Kaye went on, “He’s a Persian who doesn’t like being left alone.”

  “He’s a spoiled-rotten animal,” Graham announced.

  Kaye looked at him in astonishment. He’d never actually said anything about Omar before. It sounded as if he hated the cat, but surely that couldn’t be it. Graham must just be sulking about her refusal to take money from him.

  Graham went on, “He has been allowed to think that house plants are vegetables, and human ankles are an acceptable source of protein.”

  “That’s not true,” Kaye said. “If you’d just make an effort to get to like him...”

  “What about him getting to like me? The next time that animal takes a swipe at me, I’m going to turn him into a Persian rug. You could at least get him de-clawed, Kaye.”

  “It’s cruel to do that. And he’s well-trained; he doesn’t scratch furniture.”

  “You haven’t got any furniture worth protecting,” Graham said.

  There was some truth to that, Kaye reflected; most of her furniture was strictly bargain-basement fare.

  Of course, it isn’t as if Graham is abnormal, she told herself. Some people like cats, others don’t. I wouldn’t like to live with an alligator, myself, and if Graham owned one, I might be making noises about turning it into a handbag and shoes. To him, the cat is no different.

  Perhaps the sensible thing to do would be to find another home for Omar. If it came to a choice between her cat and her future husband, Omar would— of course—have to go.

  Poor Omar, she thought. I wonder what will happen to you, and if you’ll break your heart in a new home, wanting to come back to me.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EMILY put the telephone back in its cradle, cleared the computer screen of the airline schedules she’d been checking on, leaned back in her chair and thoughtfully looked across the office at Kaye. “What’s wrong with you this morning?” she said finally.

  Kaye jumped, and looked up from the papers spread on her desk. “Are you talking to me?”

  “No, I’m asking the computer if it has indigestion. Of course I’m talking to you. You look as if you haven’t slept all weekend. Is something wrong between you and Graham?”

  Kaye shook her head. “Of course not. He’s out of town, though. He left last night.”

  “And even when he’s here, he’s absorbed in business. You know, my mother always told me it was just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one, but sometimes I wonder if she was right.”

  Kaye’s temper flared. “My engagement has got nothing to do with Graham’s money, Emily,” she snapped.

  “Don’t bite my head off. All I said was, the schedule that man works is absolutely iniquitous. When are you ever going to see him?”

  “It will be different when we’re married.” Kaye wished that she felt as serene about that as she sounded.

  “What an innocent you are. How old are you, Kaye?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “And you haven’t found out yet that men don’t change just because women want them to?”

  “You’re such a cynic, Emily.”

  “I have a right to be. I learned it the old-fashioned way—by experience. Kaye, are you really certain you want to go through with this? Are you positive this is right for you?”

  Why is it, Kaye asked herself irritably, that everyone is so skeptical about my engagement? First Brendan, and now Emily... and even Claudia had looked a little doubtful yesterday. Of course, who could blame her? They had almost co
me to blows at her breakfast table.

  “I’m certain,” she said, and could have bitten her tongue off because her voice quivered a little.

  Emily looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment, and then said, “If you’re going to marry Graham because of his money, at least don’t try to kid yourself about being in love with him. It will only make it harder on you.”

  “I am not marrying him for his money!”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Well, I’m not foolish enough to think that people can live on love alone. I want a little financial security.”

  “Why?” Emily asked reasonably. “You’ve lived without it this long.”