Текст книги "Native Affairs"
Автор книги: Doreen Malek Owens
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 37 страниц)
A blast of wintry air greeted her as she opened the door. Icicles were hanging from the eaves and Mr. Henderson across the street was already clearing his property with a roaring snow blower. Marisa regretted not pulling her car into the garage the night before; now she would have to scrape the frost off its windows.
Marisa looked in the direction of the driveway and froze. There was an object planted in a shallow drift just beyond her porch. Shielding her eyes against the glare, she saw that it was an arrow decked out with colorful feathers.
Her heart beating faster, Marisa glanced around quickly and saw Jack leaning against her car in the driveway. Arms folded, ankles crossed, he was watching her steadily, his only concession to the weather a red woolen muffler wrapped around his throat and stuffed into the collar of his fringed jacket.
Marisa’s hands went to her sleep disordered hair and the collar of her striped wool robe. The man did have a knack for catching her in disarray. Even so, she had to restrain herself from running barefoot across the frozen lawn and into his arms. Then she remembered how angry she was with him and forced herself to remain where she was.
Jack sauntered toward Marisa as she stood planted like a tree on her front steps, too amazed to move. Then he stopped a few feet away from her and held out a manila envelope.
“What’s that?” she asked flatly, looking at it intently, then back at his face.
“Please take it,” he said.
After a second, she moved forward and did.
“Open it,” he said.
“Jack, I’m not in any mood for games. You’d better tell me what’s inside.”
“It’s a full confession from Randall Block, taking sole responsibility for the attempted bribe and clearing you completely.”
Marisa exhaled a long, slow breath, studying Jack’s fixed expression. Then she flung the envelope in his face, whirled, and slammed the door behind her.
“Marisa, open up!” Jack shouted, pounding on the door. “Come on, this isn’t fair!”
“Fair!” she yelled back at him through the solid oak door, shooting the deadbolt home with a flick of her wrist. “Who are you to talk to me about fair? Go back to Florida!”
“I came from Oklahoma.”
“Then go back there. Just leave me alone.”
“Marisa, please. Can’t you listen for a minute?”
“Just like you listened to me? I remember how patient and understanding you were about Block’s accusations. How dare you show up here with that thing in your hand and expect me to forget your inexcusable behavior?”
“I don’t expect that. I just want to talk to you.”
Marisa hesitated.
“Marisa, it’s Christmas. Are you going to leave me out here on the lawn, peering in the window like the Little Match Girl?”
Marisa sighed heavily.
“I will let you in,” she called, “but once you’ve said your piece I expect you to leave without any further discussion.”
There was a profound, extended silence from the other side of the door.
“Well?” Marisa demanded.
“I don’t suppose I have any choice,” Jack replied.
Marisa opened the door cautiously. Jack was waiting with his arms behind his back, his expression wary.
“Come in,” she said, belting her robe tighter around her waist. He stepped past her, looking around her living room curiously.
“Great old house,” he commented, and deposited the arrow he’d left on her lawn on the entry hall table.
“Did you come here to discuss New England architecture?” Marisa asked frostily.
“You’re not going to give me a break, I see,” he said.
“Do you think I should?” she countered.
He thrust the envelope back into her hands. “Just read it, will you please?”
Marisa broke the seal with her fingernail and removed the two sheets of typewritten paper. She read them through quickly and then looked up at Jack. “How did you get this?” she asked.
“Randall and I had a little talk.”
“What does that mean? You beat him up?”
“I...encouraged him to be truthful,” Jack said flatly.
“I would have bought a ticket to that,” Marisa said dryly, thumbing her hair behind her ears.
“Does that mean I get a cup of coffee?” he asked, sniffing the aroma that was drifting in from the kitchen.
“All right. One cup, and then you go.” She marched into the kitchen and he trailed after her, looking around at the family pictures on the walls in the hall.
“You were a cute kid,” he observed.
Marisa got a mug from the cupboard, filled it with coffee, and handed it to him.
“Are you going to watch and time me while I drink it?” he asked defensively.
Marisa indicated the wall clock. “I have to be at work at eight-thirty,” she said pointedly.
He sat the mug on the counter resignedly. “Aren’t you even going to thank me for getting Block’s confession? It’s already on its way to the Justice Department.”
Marisa stared at him stonily. “Thank you.”
He sighed. “This isn’t going the way I planned. When I showed you that confession you were supposed to scream for joy and throw yourself into my arms.”
“I haven’t forgotten your behavior when you first heard Block’s lies,” she replied.
Jack looked at the floor. “Marisa, I’m sorry.”
“I accept your apology. Now you can go.”
He looked up. “Don’t I even get a chance to explain why I acted the way I did?”
“I know why. You have no faith in me.”
“I have no faith in me,” he said quietly.
“Jack…”
“Yeah, I know. You have to go to work.” He took a breath, then said, “Can I see you for dinner?”
“I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”
“You really do want to punish me, don’t you, Marisa?” he said miserably.
“I just can’t take any more, Jack. I’ve had enough. I want my life to go back to the way it was before I met you. Maybe it was dull, but it wasn’t painful.”
“Wouldn’t you have dinner with any friend who came to town and wanted to see you?”
“We’re not friends.”
“We’re lovers,” he said softly.
“Were,” Marisa said quietly. “We were lovers.”
Jack nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell you what. I’ll call on you tonight and see how you’re feeling then.”
“I’ll probably be feeling the same.”
“Tough as nails, aren’t you?”
“If I am, you made me that way.” She looked at the clock significantly again.
“I’m going,” he said.
Marisa escorted him through the hall. “Goodbye, Jack,” she said evenly.
He looked at her for a long moment, then walked through the door. Once it was closed behind him, Marisa sagged against the wall and burst into tears.
She was cleared, and Jack was here. It was all too much to take in at once, and the extreme restraint she had exercised while he was with her gave way to a storm of weeping that left her feeling exhausted.
She hadn’t even asked why he had arrived at dawn or where he was staying. All she could think of was getting rid of him before she collapsed into his arms. She mustn’t forget that there was a serious problem with their relationship or he wouldn’t have treated her the way he had. To pretend that it hadn’t happened would be a mistake.
But she had to admit that she was already looking forward to seeing him that night.
* * *
The firm closed at noon for the annual Christmas party. Marisa had handed Charlie Wellman her copy of Block’s confession as soon as she got to work that day, so there was more than the Yuletide to celebrate. When Tracy showed up after her last class with a wrapped package, she found Marisa still in her office, on the phone.
Tracy, dressed in a red suit and wearing an elf’s hat, waved frantically from the doorway.
“Okay, I’ll send you a hard copy of that first thing after the holiday,” Marisa said into the phone. She listened for a second and said, “Right, goodbye, and Merry Christmas.” She replaced the receiver.
“Fa la la la la,” Tracy said. “I hate to tell you this, but there’s a party going on out there. You’re the only one still working.” She waltzed into the room and planted the gift on Marisa’s desk blotter.
“You’ve got the spirit,” Marisa said.
“Sandy Carter asked me to the New Year’s Eve dance at the Eaglesmere Country Club,” Tracy confided, chuckling wickedly.
“Congratulations. I have a little bulletin myself.”
“What?” Tracy flicked a tinkling bell on one of the Christmas wall decorations with her fingernail.
“Jack is here.”
“Where?” Tracy glanced around wildly as if she expected to find him stashed in a corner of the room.
“He came to my house first thing this morning. And guess what he gave me?”
Tracy sat in Marisa’s client chair. “I’m all ears.”
Marisa told Tracy everything that had happened at her house that day. When she finished Tracy asked excitedly, “What are you going to do tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, he’s coming back, isn’t he?”
“He said so.”
“Don’t look at me,” Tracy said, waving her hand. “I would throw myself into his arms and drag him off to bed, so I’m a bad one to give advice.”
“I have to be sensible.”
“Oh, please. You’re always sensible. Try reckless for once, it just might work.”
“I was reckless enough back in Florida for ten people.”
“And wound up with this gorgeous man madly in love with you. Big mistake, huh?”
The door to the hall opened, admitting the sound of “Jingle Bell Rock” and party merriment into the room.
“What are you two doing in here?” Charlie demanded. “Mark Dempsey is dancing with the dermatologist from the fifth floor and Judge Jerrold is about to do the limbo under Sadie’s mop handle.”
“Wouldn’t want to miss that,” Tracy observed dryly.
“Be right with you, Charlie,” Marisa said.
“I should imagine that you’d be in a celebrating mood,” Charlie said to Marisa and winked, pulling the door closed behind him.
“I think he’s drunk,” Tracy said.
Marisa reached for the gift box on her desk. “I sent your present to your house,” she said, tearing into the wrapping.
“A complete set of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, I trust?” Tracy said brightly.
“Nothing so educational.”
“Goody.”
Marisa tore off the last of the silver paper impatiently and gasped with delight.
“Indigo Sky!” she exclaimed, unscrewing the crystal stopper of a tiny bottle of her favorite perfume.
“It’s only toilet water, a minuscule amount at that. It’s all I could afford. But I know how much you like it.”
“How thoughtful,” Marisa murmured, touched.
“Now get out of here and go home to that wonderful man,” Tracy said, rising.
“I should go out to the party and mix a little.”
“Oh, forget about that. I’ll make your excuses and mix enough for both of us. Get going.”
Marisa took her coat from the hook behind her door and followed Tracy’s advice.
* * *
As soon as Marisa pulled into her driveway she knew that something was up. All the lights were on in the house and there was a strange car parked in the slush by the curb. When she got out cautiously she saw Jack appear in the front window, then come to the door.
“What are you doing in here?” Marisa demanded.
“That ancient lock you’ve got on your door wouldn’t keep out a clever four-year-old,” he answered briskly, stepping aside to admit her to her own house. He was wearing tailored dark slacks and a cream wool pullover that made his dark eyes and hair vivid in the softly lit room.
Marisa stopped and stared in surprise. A completely decorated tree stood next to the fireplace, where a cheerful fire was burning. The coffee table was set with two of her mother’s crystal glasses and a bottle of champagne on ice, and the enticing smell of a cooking roast drifted in from the direction of the kitchen.
“Did you do all this?” she asked in wonderment.
“Nobody else.”
“That fireplace doesn’t work,” she said, walking up to it and peering closely at the flames.
“It does now. The flue was stuck. I fixed it.”
“And where did you get that tree?”
“Finley’s Department Store. Christmas Eve special, fully decorated, half price.”
“I see. And you’ve learned to cook, too?”
“Speedy Gourmet on Tenth Street. You can buy anything you want already prepared, all you have to do is heat it up.”
“Amazing. You must have gone through town like a tornado. And the wine? Let me guess. Lake Country Liquors.”
“Right the first time.”
Marisa dropped her briefcase and purse on a chair. “What is all this in aid of, Jack? I mean, it’s very nice and everything...”
“It’s Christmas, Marisa,” he said quietly. “Can’t you relax a little and give me a break?”
“What do you want?” she said flatly.
“Another chance,” he said simply. “I love you. I’m sorry for what I did and I want another chance.”
Marisa sat in her grandfather’s old easy chair near the fire. “We didn’t have a little spat, Jack. You took someone else’s word over mine on an important issue, and when I begged you to listen to me you simply wouldn’t do it. You insulted me and...”
“Please don’t remind me of my asinine behavior,” he interrupted forlornly.
“What I’m saying is...”
“I know what you’re saying. You think it wasn’t an isolated incident and things like that will keep happening again and again.”
“Will you kindly stop interrupting me?”
He sat across from her on the sofa and folded his arms, his expression bleak.
“You really hurt me, Jack.”
He turned his head, looking away from her.
“I know,” he said, very quietly.
“What made you change your mind finally and go to see Randall Block?”
He sighed. “After you left Florida I had a chance to calm down and think things over, and I just couldn’t believe that you had resorted to bribery.”
“Gee, it seems to me that I tried to tell you the same thing,” Marisa said lightly. “More than once.”
“Spare me the sarcasm, Marisa, this is hard enough as it is,” Jack said wearily.
“Go on,” she said.
“So I tracked Block back to Washington and had a discussion with him.”
“I see. Has he been discharged from the hospital yet?” Marisa asked pointedly.
“I didn’t harm him. I wanted him to be in perfect health to testify about his actions.”
“So how did you threaten him?”
“What does it matter? I got him to tell the truth and that’s what counts.”
“You should have known I would never do such a thing. If you really loved me you wouldn’t have credited that stupid story for a minute,” Marisa responded, the old anger and hurt surging inside her again.
The both looked up as the sound of singing outside became audible and then came gradually closer, reaching a crescendo just outside the front door.
“Carolers,” Marisa said. “I have some cookies in the kitchen.”
She went to get the tray and came back into the living room, opening the door and distributing the treats to the children on the porch. Jack watched as she chatted with them and they rewarded her with a shaky version of “Silent Night.”
“You seem to know all of them,” he commented, as she closed the door behind the departing group.
“It’s a small town. I went to grade school with some of their parents.”
“You must think about having children of your own,” he said.
“Sometimes.”
“Want to get started on it tonight?” he asked.
Marisa resumed her seat and glared at him.
“Okay, bad joke. Where were we?”
“I believe I was saying that if you really loved me you would never have listened to Block’s lies in the first place.”
“I was hoping you’d skip over that part.”
“I think I deserve an explanation,” Marisa persisted, her tone as firm as her gaze.
“It’s complicated.”
“Oh, it must be.”
He strode over to the fireplace and leaned on the mantel. “I’ve always found it difficult to trust ‘the suits’. You know, people like you, establishment types.”
“Thank you.”
“You know what I mean. You come from this tintype town, you have education and background on your side, you were representing the government in this case, you came straight from the places where I had never fit in my whole life.”
“Next we’ll be tracing my bloodlines back to good Queen Bess,” Marisa observed to the air.
He closed his eyes. “I guess I found it difficult to accept that a sophisticated woman like you would want me. It was easier to think that you were using me.”
“You mean that despite your success you feel inside like you’re still back on the reservation.”
His eyes opened and met hers.
“Yes,” he said flatly.
“I’ve already gathered that much, Jack. You can’t use that as an excuse for treating me so badly.”
“Marisa, when it seemed you had manipulated me it just played right into a whole lifetime of doubt and suspicion. I didn’t analyze it then, I was too furious, but after I drove you away I had time to think about all of it and came to some tough conclusions.”
Marisa was silent.
“All right, so I’ve never been in love before and I don’t know how to act!” he said heatedly.
“What do you mean, you’ve never been in love before?” Marisa demanded.
“Just what I said. It’s not a difficult concept.” He sat next to her on the sofa and she inched backward.
“Will you stop doing that?” he said in exasperation.
“What?”
“Every time I come near you a silent alarm goes off and you put distance between us.”
“I’m trying to think clearly.”
“And you can’t think clearly when I touch you?”
“Right.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“It tells me that you’re trying to confuse me!” she said, almost in tears, rising and going to the window.
He followed, standing just behind her and looking out at the silently falling snow.
“Nobody will ever love you as much as I do,” he said softly, touching her shoulder.
“I know that,” she whispered.
“Nobody will ever be as good for you as I am,” he added.
She nodded.
“Then why not give me another chance?” he said.
She turned blindly into his arms.
“You hurt me so badly,” she sobbed.
“I know, and I’m so sorry. I’ll try to be better in the future.” He held her tightly, his lips moving in her hair.
“I thought you would never come around. I thought I had lost you forever,” she went on.
“I felt like a prize jerk once I got the truth out of Block. I came here as quickly as I could,” he murmured.
“Just hold me. I missed you so.”
They stood together for a long moment, and then he led her by the hand back to the sofa.
“I have something for you,” he said, sitting next to her again, closer this time.
“Something else?” she said.
He withdrew a small square box from his pants pocket and placed it in her hand.
Marisa looked up at him.
“Open it.”
Marisa sprung the catch. An emerald cut diamond set in gleaming white gold sparkled against a bed of deep blue velvet.
“Where did you get this?” she gasped.
“Faber’s Jewelers, corner of Main and Grand.”
“Not from Mr. Faber!”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. Old guy about seventy, on the short side, thinning white hair, eastern European accent?”
“You didn’t tell him it was for me,” Marisa groaned.
“Sure, why not?”
“Mr. Faber was my grandfather’s poker buddy, not to mention that they grew up together, practically slept in the same bassinet. He’s the worst gossip in the town, in the world. Everybody will know by tomorrow morning.”
“Good. Then you’ll have to marry me.”
“Jack...”
“Yes?”
“I’ll marry you.”
He pulled her into his arms almost roughly, knocking the ring box to the floor.
“I have to ask you a question,” he said in her ear.
“What?”
“Have you got any money?”
She drew back to look at him.
“I exhausted my credit card limit buying that ring,” he said, laughing helplessly.
“I have twenty-three dollars in my purse,” she said.
“That will have to last until day after tomorrow.”
The scent of burning food wafted down the hall.
“There goes dinner,” Jack said.
“I have some tuna in the pantry.” She disentangled herself from his arms and stood, straightening her clothes. “Let me go turn off the oven and I’ll see if I can put together a casserole...”
“Turn off the oven and then come to the bedroom,” he said quietly. “Where is it?”
“Right at the end of the hall,” Marisa said. She went to the kitchen and fumbled with the knob on the stove, her fingers trembling. Then she made a feeble pass at straightening her hair as she followed Jack into the bedroom.
He was waiting and handed her a glass of champagne.
“To us,” he said, toasting her.
“To us,” she repeated.
They touched glasses and drank. Then he put his down and took her glass from her hand.
“Now come here,” he said.
She was only too happy to obey.
Epilogue
“So now I have to start planning a baby shower?” Tracy said. “I haven’t recovered from the wedding yet.”
“It’s not definite,” Marisa replied, pouring coffee into Tracy’s cup. “I haven’t seen a doctor.”
They were sitting in Marisa’s kitchen on a Saturday morning in late March, with the first spring thaw melting the icicles on the roofline outside the window.
“Didn’t you take one of those home tests?”
“Yes, but they’re not always accurate.”
“Come on. Was it positive?”
Marisa grinned.
“You didn’t have to say it,” Tracy said, smiling conspiratorially. “You’ve got the glow.”
“I’ve got the nausea, I can tell you that. I can’t contemplate food until about three in the afternoon.”
“You must be so excited.”
“I think I’m just in a daze. If anyone had told me when I left Florida that three months later I would be married to Jack, and pregnant, I would have laughed. Derisively.”
“Have you told Jack?”
Marisa shook her head. “I just found out this morning, and I didn’t want to tell him over the phone.”
“When is he due back from his trip?”
“About eight.”
“Big doings tonight, then. What will you say? How are you going to tell him?”
“Well, once he starts seeing me turn green at the sight of his breakfast, he’ll know. He’s been in Japan for two weeks promoting Renegade.”
“Is that his new book?”
Marisa nodded, taking a sip of her milk. “A thinly disguised account of our romance, I’m afraid. He was already writing it during the trial in Florida. Do you believe that?”
Tracy giggled. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. His hero falls for a lady lawyer, a New Englander who goes up against him in a complicated legal case. Sound familiar?”
“Am I in it?” Tracy asked eagerly.
“Well, the lady lawyer has a pal named Cindy who works as her researcher .”
“A beautiful, seductive, brilliant pal named Cindy,” Tracy corrected archly.
“Of course.”
“Who is responsible for bringing the lovers together in an act of friendship and generosity unparalleled in human history.”
“Right.”
“I still can’t get used to having Jack here all the time. Has he sold his condo in Oklahoma yet?”
“The real estate agent thinks she has a buyer but she isn’t sure if he’ll qualify for the mortgage,” Marisa said.
“I don’t think this town has recovered yet from the idea of Jack as a full time resident. Did you see the ad Mr. Faber ran in the newspaper, describing the ring Jack bought for you in his store?”
“You mean ‘Come to Faber’s, Jeweler to the Rich and Famous?’” Marisa asked, closing her eyes.
“That’s the one,” Tracy responded, cackling.
“Mr. Faber has never been known to pass up a lucrative business opportunity.”
“I think everybody in this town is secretly disappointed that you haven’t razed this tired old place and erected some sort of palace in its stead.”
“Jack really isn’t the palace type and neither am I. We did buy the house in Florida, though. For sentimental reasons. And I’ve ordered vinyl siding to be put on here in May.”
“My, you are getting frivolous. What next? A new fence? Painting the shutters? The neighbors will be talking.”
“What were they expecting, for heaven’s sake?”
“Well, you know how it is. A bestselling author moving into a seventy-year-old Cape Cod is not their idea of a luxurious lifestyle. At the very least, Jack should be driving some expensive Italian sports car. That 4 x 4 of his just doesn’t cut it.”
“But he’s from out West. There are mountains and foothills and the terrain is rough. A vehicle like that is practical.”
Tracy stared at her.
“I’m sorry we’re so dull,” Marisa said, sighing.
“But not in the bedroom. I’m sure you’re not dull in the bedroom,” Tracy observed wickedly.
Marisa threw a napkin at her.
“I suppose Jack could do a rain dance on the front lawn,” Tracy suggested. “At least that would satisfy their curiosity about his Indian background.”
“I’ll mention it to him.”
“And now I have to go,” Tracy said, rising. “I have a paper due next week that’s still in the notecard stage.”
“Okay. Good luck with the work.”
“Give my best to Jack. And to junior in there.” She patted Marisa’s tummy.
“I will.”
“I’ll see you at the office on Monday morning.” Tracy sailed out the back door.
Marisa put their dishes in the sink, feeling once more the secret elation that had become part of her inner life ever since she realized that she was pregnant. Jack would be so thrilled. She was preparing a special dinner, all of his favorites, but if she knew her man they would be in bed before they had a chance to eat it. She was getting very good at wrapping leftovers.
Marisa went to get her doctor’s office number to make an appointment.
* * *
Jack swept through the door at eight-ten, carrying a stack of parcels and drenched with a cold rain. Marisa was waiting for him in the living room, sitting next to the roaring fire and holding a glass of his special Napoleon brandy.
“Woman!” he shouted and threw the boxes on a chair.
Marisa put down the drink and ran into his arms.
“Oh, God, you feel so warm and good,” he murmured, his mouth moving in her hair. “I missed you terribly. Why the hell didn’t you come with me anyway?”
“Jack, we discussed it before you left. I had that ease going before the Superior Court and...”
“Never mind,” he said, holding her off to look at her. “I’m back now. Is it possible that you got more gorgeous while I was gone?”
“Jack, you were gone two weeks,” she said, laughing and smoothing his wet hair.
“Two weeks prettier, no doubt about it,” he said and kissed her lingeringly, his face wet with rain.
“Jack...” Marisa whispered.
“What?” he replied distractedly, steering her firmly toward the bedroom.
“Don’t you want your drink?”
“Not as much as I want you.”
“Wait a minute” she said, as he started to unbutton her blouse.
“Yes?” he said innocently.
“Jack,” she said, more urgently.
He slid his hand up her back to unhook her bra.
“Jack!” she protested.
“Yes?” he said again, grinning.
“What did you bring me?”
He burst out laughing. “You really don’t want me to answer that question.”
“I meant, what’s all that stuff in the boxes?” Marisa amended, blushing.
“Later,” he said, pushing her blouse off her shoulders impatiently, his fingers chilly against her skin.
Marisa closed her eyes.
Jack trailed his tongue across her collarbone and down into the valley between her breasts.
Marisa sighed. “Later,” she agreed.
They hit the bed hard and did not resume the conversation until some time had passed. Marisa was propped against Jack’s shoulder, thinking how perfectly and utterly happy she was, when she said drowsily, “So how was Japan?”
Jack chuckled softly. “Lonely.”
“I’ll bet. Did you meet any geishas?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Counselor, it’s clear you’ve never been on a book junket.”
“True.”
“Even if I’d had any desire to expand my horizons in that direction I was too busy to do it.”
“Hmmpf,” she said disbelievingly.
“It’s true. Publishing houses do not sponsor these trips for authors to visit the tourist attractions. They expect you to flog the book twenty-four hours a day.”
“And did you? Flog the book?”
“Relentlessly.”
“Good. You had quite a few messages from the NFN while you were gone. They want you to appear at a rally to raise money for Jeff Rivertree’s legal defense.”
“Okay. I’ll get to them in the morning.” He tightened his arm around her. “Tonight is for us.”
“May I see my presents now?”
He sighed. “You’ re like a six-year-old.”
“Come on, I’m curious.” She slipped out of the bed and into a robe, padding barefoot into the living room. Jack followed, pushing back his still damp hair.
“I should warn you, they’re not all for you,” he said, dropping onto the sofa and taking a deep swallow of the drink Marisa had gotten for him earlier.
“What!” she said, feigning disappointment.
“I got something for my mother and for Ana,” he said, leaning forward to remove those boxes from the pile.
“That’s permitted.”
“Thank you.”
Marisa tore into the first package, discarding the wrapping and lifting the lid.
“Sorry about the makeshift packaging. I had to have them wrapped after customs and...”
“Jack!” Marisa cried in delight, lifting a royal blue robe of heavy fuji silk from the box and holding it aloft. Emblazoned across the back of it was a golden imperial dragon, and it was encrusted with sapphire bugle beads at the collar and cuffs. The dragon’s head swirled down one arm and the tail trailed down the other, the gilt embroidery contrasting sharply with the smooth silk.
“This is gorgeous,” she breathed.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “It’s really for me.”
Marisa looked at him.
“Just kidding,” he said.
Marisa stood, dropping her tired chenille robe to the floor and then wrapping herself in the satiny folds.
“How do I look?” she said, striking a pose.
“Like the first blonde empress of Japan,” he said, saluting her with his glass.
“Too bad I can only wear this at home,” Marisa said sadly, fingering the lapels.
“I don’t recommend wearing it to the office. Charlie Wellman will have a stroke.”
Marisa grinned.
Jack took another sip of his drink and added, “Open that small one next.”
Marisa tore into the wrappings greedily and came up with a jeweler’s box.
“You’re spoiling me,” she said, opening it.
“I’m trying.”
“Pearls,” she said, lifting a string of perfectly matched lustrous gems from the bed of cotton wool.
“I thought that necklace would match your earrings pretty well,” he said.
“Oh, it does, thank you, thank you so much,” she said, running to embrace him.
“Hey, hey, you’re not finished yet,” he protested, disentangling her arms from his neck. “There’s another one.”
Marisa glanced over her shoulder at the last package, forgotten on the floor.
“Dinner’s been warming in the oven. I should take it out before it ossifies,” Marisa protested.
“It can wait a minute. Open that.”
Marisa knelt obediently and opened the last package. Marisa lifted it, puzzled at first.
“What?” she said.
“Look at it closely,” Jack advised.
Comprehension dawned.
“This is an Indian baby board,” she said, examining the flat back and front bundling used to hold a papoose.
“Right.”
“You didn’t get this in Japan.”
“Right again. It’s Blackfoot, my mother sent it. I picked it up on the porch on the way in. It must have been left by the parcel service earlier today.”
“You knew it was coming.”
“I had an idea.”
“Is this a family heirloom?”
He nodded.
“Am I jumping to wild conclusions, or is this a hint?”
