the bed. "Before we got married we lived in an apartment that was a lot smaller than this."
I hated to think about that.
"Well, I hope you enjoy it," I said at random. "You and Hayden, that is. I'll leave you to unpack. Oh, do you have something for the baby to sleep in?" I had no idea what to do if she didn't. But Regina assured me she had a portable travel crib. That seemed a luxurious item for a poor mother to have, and I wondered a little.
I heard the crunch of gravel as I stood in the doorway. Martin emerged from his car and stood staring at Regina's car for a minute. "Martin," I called, "come up here." Evidently he hadn't returned to his office before he came home.
He passed under the walkway to stare up at me. "What are you doing in the apartment?" he asked. No one had been in the apartment since Angel and Shelby had bought a house in town.
"Oh," I said, feeling a pleasurable anticipation, perhaps tinged with a touch of malice, "you won't guess who's come to visit, honey!" Looking distinctly apprehensive, Martin came up the stairs. I stood aside so he could enter the apartment.
"Uncle Martin!" cried Regina. She faced the door with a big smile stretching her generous lips, the baby pressed to her chest like a bag of groceries. Martin's face was priceless.
"Did we know she was coming?" he asked me in a low voice as we walked over to the house.
I shook my head.
"Did we know she'd had a baby?"
I shook my head again.
"Then Barby must not know it either," he said. "She wouldn't keep something like that to herself."
I didn't think so either. I further thought that Barby would just hate the idea of being a grandmother. I was willing to bet Regina knew that, too. "So, we don't know why she's here?" Martin, used to commanding information and having everything lined up and organized, was definitely on the frustrated side. "It'd be easier to tell you what I don't know," I said. "I don't know why she came or how long she's staying. I don't know where Craig is. I have no idea what your sister knows." And though I didn't say it out loud to spare Martin's feelings, I was far from certain of the provenance of the baby. Martin stood in the kitchen drinking a glass of tea while he mulled this over. "I've got to go back up there and speak to her again," he said abruptly. "Get some of this settled. We still going to the Lowrys'?" "I don't think we can put it off. Regina seems all right about us going, and you know how touchy Catledge is."
"Okay. I'll just be a minute or two with her, then I'll come in and shower." Thunking his glass down on the counter, he marched out again into the gathering dark and dripping rain. His white hair gleamed through the darkness. I went upstairs to finish getting ready. As I put on makeup and jewelry and pinned my hair out of my face with a pretty black-and-gold comb, I wondered if Martin would be able to winkle any more out of his niece than I had. Martin is far more likely to ask direct questions than I am. But he didn't look satisfied when he trudged up the stairs twenty minutes later.
He looked tired and worried.
After giving me a quick kiss on the neck, Martin unzipped his pants and sat on the bed to untie his shoes.
"Hey, sailor, how about it?" I asked, in my best Mae West voice. Martin flashed me a smile. He glanced at the bedside clock. "Afraid we don't have time," he said regretfully. "I have to shower. Two people in the meeting smoked."
Martin hates the smell of smoke clinging to his hair and clothes. "You could have asked them not to," I said mildly. Martin's asking might as well be called telling: He was the boss.
"They're going to retire at the new year," he said. "If that weren't the case, I would have kicked their asses out in the hall. As of January one, I'm going to make the entire plant a smoke-free zone."
We talked about how many smokers Pan-Am Agra employed, and mulled over other mundane topics as Martin stripped, showered, and re-dressed. Martin is almost thirteen years my senior, but he looks absolutely great without his clothes on, and he's just as attractive dressed. He has snowy