me take your bag up to your room."
Kelly tightened her grip on the leather handles. "I can carry it. You can get the carton in my car. I left the trunk open."
Tall, handsome and with a smooth-shaven head, Leo Porter wagged a finger. "You know you're not supposed to bring anything." Because of their careers and active social life the Porters had made it a practice to cater their parties.
"Oh, well," she crooned. "Then I'll just take the wine back to Blackstone Farms with me."
Leo hugged her. "Where did you find it?"
"In a quaint little store not too far from Lexington." Kelly smiled down at the puppy licking her toes. "Who is this?"
"That's Miss Porter. Pam and I call her Poe-Poe. We got her a week ago."
"Is she paper trained?"
"Yes. Pam wouldn't have a dog in her house unless it was trained."
Bending, Kelly scooped the puppy up. "Hello, Miss Porter." The poodle pup yipped and wiggled. "Okay, I'll put you down." She placed the dog on the floor and she took off, her feet slipping out from under her on the highly waxed wood floor. She rolled several feet before regaining her footing.
"I'll meet you in the back," Kelly said as she walked through the entryway of the spacious Colonial.
It took less than fifteen minutes to unpack, wash her face and brush her hair. As she secured it in a ponytail, she made a mental note to call the salon she had visited when living in D.C. to make an appointment.
She skipped down the carpeted staircase and made her way through the modern kitchen to a door leading to the Porters' expansive backyard.
Camille sat on a chair, her silver-haired head covered by a wide straw hat, laughing at something her first cousin had said to her. Her clear-brown eyes widened as she spied Kelly. Holding out her arms, she stood up.
Kelly walked over to her mother and sank into her comforting embrace. "Hi, Mama."
Pulling back and holding Kelly at arm's length, Camille nodded. "You look wonderful Kelly. Look at your baby, Horace," she called to her husband who was engrossed in a chess game.
Pushing back his chair, he pointed a finger at his brother-in-law. "Don't you breathe until I get back," he warned. Turning, Horace Andrews turned the brilliance of his smile on his youngest daughter.
"Hello, Daddy," Kelly said before she kissed his rounded cheek. Resting a hand over his belly, she whispered, "You need to go on a diet."
Horace grimaced. "Not only do you look like your mother, but now you're beginning to sound like her."
"But you're sixty, Daddy - "
"I happen to know how old I am," he countered, cutting her off. "Your mother haunts and nags me constantly about losing weight. And I will."
"When, Daddy?"
"When I get to be a grandfather," he countered with a wide grin.
"Stop it, Daddy! You and Mama have to stop this insanity about becoming grandparents or it will never happen."
"Pamela and Leo would rather get a dog than have a baby." He'd spat out the word.
"That's their choice and their business." She had enunciated each word. Horace Andrews mumbled under his breath about what his children could do with their choices. Patting his arm, she said softly, "Go back to your game. I want to speak to Cousin Flora."
Pamela lay on the pillow next to Kelly the way they'd done when they were growing up together. "How are you and your Blackstone?"
Turning on the side and facing Pamela, Kelly rested her head on her folded arm. People would never take her and Pamela for sisters, because they looked nothing alike. Her older sister was the image of their paternal grandmother: petite, delicate features, black curly hair and sable coloring.
"His name is Ryan. We're doing all right."
"Just all right?"
Kelly lifted her left shoulder. "We see each other on Fridays and spend the night together. We usually get back to the farm before noon on Saturday."
Pamela's waxed eyebrows wrinkled. "You're sleeping together off the property?"
"He has a four-year-old son who just happens to be my student."
Pamela mouth formed a perfect O. "I see where you're coming from." She gave Kelly a long, penetrating stare. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"
"Am I that transparent?"
"No. It's just that you seem so calm - at peace with yourself."
Kelly wanted to tell Pamela she was wrong. What she was feeling wasn't serenity, but turmoil. She wanted to tell Ryan that she loved him, but balked each time she lay in his arms. And she did love him