The hellion

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A week passed, during which Rachel and Tommy Lee had only stolen hours together whenever possible, but "stealing" time left them dissatisfied and impatient. Only one thing happened that brought them smiles. Tommy Lee had to make an unexpected overnight trip, and before leaving town he stalked, unannounced, into Panache, crossed straight to Rachel, and dropped a heedless kiss on her mouth. "Hello, darling. I've got to fly to Atlanta and I won't be back till tomorrow. Thought I'd better let you know before I left."

Verda stood taking it all in, her jaw hanging slack.

"Atlanta?"

"Uh-huh. I'm on my way to the airport now." Oddly enough, Rachel didn't even consider subterfuge. She merely removed her reading glasses, left her desk, and followed his impatient figure to the door.

"Business?" she asked.

"Yes. Some land I've been thinking about buying that somebody else has suddenly taken an interest in. I'd rather not go right now, but it can't be helped. If anything comes up, you can reach me at the Sheraton. Okay?" He was already reaching for the doorknob.

"Okay. Have a safe trip. I'll see you when you get back."

Distractedly he dropped a parting kiss on her mouth while she held the door open, and then he left in a rush.

When he called her, late that night, she casually mentioned, "You threw Verda into major shock when you came sashaying into the shop that way and kissed me."

His laughter came across the wire. Then he asked, "What'd she say?"

Now it was Rachel's turn to laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course. You've piqued my interest."

"She said, `I thought he wasn't pesterin' you!`"

When his second round of laughter died, Tommy Lee asked teasingly, "Am I pesterin' you, Rachel?"

"You bet. Please hurry home so we can get on with it."

But their bit of mirth at Verda's expense was the only lighthearted escape they shared during those days when intimacy was denied them. He returned the following evening straight to her arms as if he'd been gone a fortnight. They shared a quick and frenzied reunion. Then he tore himself away, declaring he had to get home and spend some time with Beth, especially since he had missed the supper she'd painstakingly prepared for him several nights earlier plus several others, and had found little time to devote to her since.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I'd like to stay longer, but I'd better go home and try to smooth the waters."

"You don't have to apologize, darling. I understand. But don't you think it would be better if you introduced the two of us so that she can see I'm not trying to snatch her father and lure him away from her?"

He smiled and squeezed her arms. "You're right."

But she could see he was apprehensive about it. "When?"

He drew a deep breath and seemed to pluck an answer from the air before he could change his mind. "This weekend. When the dragon isn't around."

But one day before the weekend, the shop door opened and Rachel glanced up to find three teenage girls entering. Since her merchandise was targeted chiefly at mature middle-income women, girls of this age rarely shopped at Panache. She smiled a welcome. Then her heart seemed to pause in trepidation as she recognized Beth as one of the three, though Beth didn't give Rachel so much as a glance.

She had a pretty little face, and Tommy Lee's mouth, but her attractiveness was spoiled by a smug expression as she sauntered into the store with her giddy friends. They were obviously in one of those abhorrent adolescent moods that can seize a band of normally polite teenage girls and change them into rude little minxes who delight in disdaining anything smacking of middle-aged maturity.

They were a little too loud and disruptively brash as they invaded the store, plucking at this item and that, dropping them in distaste and making faces at one another that sent them into spasms of laughter.

"Hello, girls, can I help you?"

One of the trio hooked her thumbs in the rear pockets of her jeans and answered while she chewed gum exaggeratedly, "Naw, just checkin' things out. Gotta buy somethin' for my grandmaw." Then she made some inside comment to the other two that sent them into giggles as they sashayed toward a rack of autumn dresses. More rude giggling started as one of them plucked a hanger down and held the dress against her.

"Well, look as long as you like, and let me know if there's anything I can show you."

"Sure, lady," their spokesman said, then turned away, adding something under her breath that brought snickers to her friends and a flush of anger to Rachel's cheeks.

It was Verda's day off, so Rachel was alone in the store, sitting at her desk in the corner, working on invoices. She slipped her reading glasses back onto her nose, pretending to go back to what she was doing, but stingingly aware that Beth Gentry had still not even glanced her way.

The girls worked their way through the store systematically, while Rachel carefully ignored them, wondering whether to get up and politely introduce herself to Beth. But before she could decide, the other two moved to the French armoire where they tried on a wide-brimmed felt hat, leaving Beth to pore over the jewelry at the center counter. Rachel wrote her name on a check, inserted it into an envelope, and licked it shut. Finally she gave in to the urge and raised her eyes, only to have the blood seem to drop to her toes.

The deep-set eyes of Beth Gentry were fixed upon her in unconcealed dislike, issuing a hard, cold challenge that said, "Hands off my father." And while skewering Rachel with that unmistakable message, Beth blatantly slipped a silver bangle bracelet over her wrist. Rachel's eyes dropped to it, and her lips opened to protest as she instinctively began to leave her chair. But she froze, her hands still braced on the edge of the desk, and glanced up at Beth again to find the undisguised defiance still sizzling at her. It was obvious Beth considered her a rival for her father's attention.

Rachel remained poised, tense and shocked, her mind racing with indecision, while she and Beth raced off in a pivotal moment that would undoubtedly dictate the tone of their future relationship.

There was scarcely time to think. Rachel's reaction happened within seconds, though it seemed hours that she hovered with Beth's defiant eyes locked on her own. Then Rachel relaxed her shoulders, dropped her hands from the desk, and sat back in her chair while Beth lowered her wrist, shook the bracelet into place and let a victorious grin slip to the corner of her mouth. Without removing her eyes from Rachel, she called, "Come on, you guys, there's nothing in this place even your grandma would want." Then, with an imperious toss of the shoulder, she swung around and led the way out the door.

Rachel sat stunned.

What should I do?

It's too late now. You made your choice and she won.

She threw her glasses off, leaned her elbows on the desk, and covered her face. The nerves in her stomach were trembling. She was angry and depressed and upset. Did the whole world have to defy her and Tommy Lee? Was there some unholy force working to thwart their happiness, no matter how hard they tried to achieve it? What had she done that was so terrible? What? She had fallen in love with a man and was willing to make room in her life for his daughter, share him with her, and try to make a family. But how was that possible now?

She threw herself back in the chair and whammed a fist on the desktop-something totally out of character for Rachel.

Damn that girl.

Couldn't she see how little happiness her father had had in his life? Couldn't she understand how her jealousy was distressing him?

Rachel lurched from her chair, slipped her hands into the front slash pockets of her tailored skirt, and stood at the front window, staring out unseeingly.

So what do I do now? Tell him? Add this to the burden he's already carrying? Give Beth Gentry the opportunity to deny having stolen the bracelet and turn the situation to her advantage by declaring that Rachel was jealous of her? Could a girl of fourteen be that devious? Given what she'd just done, the question seemed ludicrous. Tommy Lee had said she was hovering on the brink. Rachel's reaction to this incident could be the nudge that pushed her over or the tug that drew her back. Rachel dropped her chin to her chest, staring at her shoe as she pivoted the heel against the carpet, feeling inept and out of her league. Such a tender, malleable thing, the teenager psyche-and being childless, she didn't know the first thing about molding it. The wrong decision could be disastrous for all concerned.

Lord help me, what should I do?

She turned around and was staring dejectedly at the jewelry counter when the answer suddenly came.

Rachel dressed with utmost care that Sunday morning for church. She chose a tasteful shirtwaist dress of periwinkle-blue voile, matching pumps, and a delicately feminine straw hat with a floppy brim that cast dappled shadows over her forehead and made her appear younger. She added a single strand of pearls, a dash of scent, and sighed hopefully as she gave a last glance in the mirror.

She had called her father and asked him if she could ride with him to church, deciding that if he could be stubborn, so could she. He hadn't called or come over since the day of the confrontation with Tommy Lee, and she'd made up her mind if she had to do battle, she might as well take on all the opposing forces at once.

When Everett's car drew up, she grabbed her purse and hurried out, meeting him halfway up the walk. His hands were in his trouser pockets and he came to an abrupt halt as she slammed the front door and approached with a bounce in her step.

"Hi, Daddy," she said brightly, tipping her head up to plunk a quick kiss on his cheek before airily continuing past him.

He scowled after her without returning her greeting, and after a brief hesitation she heard his footsteps follow. Without turning around, she said, "Thank you for picking me up. Tommy Lee would have, but he's running a little late this morning. His daughter is living with him now, and you know how poky we women can be. I'll meet her after church and ride out to their house with them, so you won't have to haul me back home."

As she opened the car door she heard Everett's footsteps come to a halt behind her, but she blithely climbed in and slammed the door.

In a moment he joined her, and she could see peripherally that he gave her a disapproving glance as he started the engine. She had him stymied and she knew it. He might have been expecting her to maintain a stoical silence, as he had, or to vehemently argue her cause. But the one thing he hadn't been expecting was her gay mien and her openly filling him in on what was going on between her and Tommy Lee. She hurried on while she had her father buffaloed.

"I'm terribly nervous… do I look all right?" She flipped her palms up and glanced down at her dress, then went on brightly. "Meeting a man's children is a bit unnerving, and of course I want to create a good impression, since we'll all be living together in the near future. She's already started school here and Tommy Lee says she's blending in beautifully. She's made some friends already and doesn't seem to want to go back to live with her mother."

She saw her father's mouth drop open in surprise and rushed on before he could say anything. "You saw her with Tommy Lee on the church steps several weeks ago, the one with the long, dark hair and that unmistakable Gentry mouth. She's a pretty little thing, don't you think? But every time I look at her I want to teach her how to put on her makeup properly-you know how girls of that age tend to overdress, almost like playing grown-up when they're first turned loose." She flipped the visor down, checked her lipstick in the mirror, and smiled. "Ah, well, at least it'll give us some common ground to talk about. Lord, I hope so-I'll need something to break the ice with her." Up went the visor with a snap. "So tell me, Daddy, how've you been?"

She felt positively winded after that mouthful, and her heart was pattering animatedly, but she turned to her father with a disarming smile, as if she greeted him this way every Sunday morning.

"Rachel, what in heaven's name has gotten into you?"

She leaned across the seat and pecked him on the cheek again, knocking her hat brim askew and giving a little laugh as she shot a hand up to hold it on. "I'm happy, that's all. Isn't everybody when they fall in love?"

He snorted and cast her a doubtful glance from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, Daddy, don't be such a cynic."

"You're makin' the mistake of your life. A skunk doesn't change its stripes."

But again she threw him a curve. "Would you like to meet Beth, since she's going to be your granddaughter?"

He gripped the wheel and blared, "I most certainly would not!"

She pulled away with a mock show of defense. "Okay, okay… maybe it is best if you wait until she's learned to accept me first."

By the time they reached church Rachel was weak from putting on her act all the way, but she crooked a hand through her father's elbow and kept her step spry as they moved directly inside and found their pew.

The moment she sat down she felt the tension between her shoulderblades and wilted slightly. The worst was yet to come, and she wondered if she was a good enough actress to pull it off when she faced Beth Gentry an hour from now. She had chosen the time and place for its very public aspect. What could Beth Gentry do with half the town milling about, witnessing their first meeting?

When the service ended she studied Tommy Lee's face as they converged in the middle of the crowd, and for a moment she forgot the young woman at his elbow and felt only the thrill of seeing him again.

"Hello, Rachel." His dark eyes adored her while he extended a hand.

"Hello, Tommy Lee." His palm was warm and large as it surrounded hers momentarily, and she smiled up at him.

"I'd like you to meet my daughter Beth."

Rachel transferred her smile to the girl and offered her hand as benignly as if they'd never laid eyes on each other before.

"Hello, Beth. I've certainly heard a lot about you."

Color crept up Beth's cheeks and her mouth hung open in surprise as she let Rachel shake her hand.

"Have-h'lo."

Still holding her hand, Rachel smiled up at Tommy Lee. "Why, she's a beauty, just as you said." Again she directed her comment to the girl. "You have your grandpa Gentry's eyes, but your grandma's mouth." And at last she dropped Beth's hand and tipped her head up to Tommy Lee again. "But then, so does your daddy."

He smiled and took her elbow, then did the same to Beth. "What do you say we stop somewhere for breakfast?"

"I'd love to. I'm famished." Rachel poked her head forward to peer around Tommy Lee. "How about you, Beth?"

From his far side came a grunt.

At the car Rachel slipped into the back seat, leaving Beth to share the front with her daddy, feeling thankful that Tommy Lee didn't make an issue of it.

Throughout the meal Rachel tried by action and word to make it clear she had no intention of usurping Beth's place in Tommy Lee's life, but the girl remained sullen and untalkative, speaking only when asked a question.

Over coffee Rachel produced from her handbag a miniature apple-green box with a pink bow and offered it to Beth. "Here… a little something from my store, since your daddy told me how much you like them."

Beth shot a puzzled glance from Tommy Lee to Rachel to the box, then up at Rachel again.

Obviously, she was as dumbfounded by Rachel's actions as Everett had been earlier. Rachel could read the question sizzling through Beth's mind as clearly as if it had been spoken: You mean she didn't tell my daddy what I did?

"You-you brought a present for me?"

Rachel nodded, set the box on the tabletop, and nudged it toward Beth. "Uh-huh. Just something little."

"But-but…" Again her eyes dropped to the gift, and Rachel saw how flustered Beth had become.

"Go ahead… open it."

Beside Beth, Tommy Lee braced a jaw on one palm and smiled, watching her. Her eyes darted up to his, then quickly away as she hesitantly reached for the box. She removed the bow and drew the protective cotton aside to reveal a pair of tiny silver loop earrings, their Florentine finish a perfect match for the bangle bracelet.

At the sight of them, Beth's face flushed brightly and she trained her eyes downward, refusing to lift them to Rachel again.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

"When I was your age girls weren't allowed to wear earrings. How silly, huh? I remember fighting with my mother over every new thing I wanted to try-makeup, nylons, high heels."

Tommy Lee shifted his gaze to Rachel across the table. "With good reason. I remember the first time you broke out in lipstick. It was the color of a matador's cape, and you had it uneven on the top, and painted too far down in the corners. I can remember thinking-yuck!"

Rachel laughed, her eyes sparkling up at him. "Yuck? You were thinking yuck when I thought I was stunning enough for the silver screen?"

"At the time I liked you better in grubby jeans, climbing the pecan tree with your hair all full of twigs."

"Remember that time you fell out of it?" She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table.

"Do I ever. I wore a cast for the rest of the summer."

"And we never did get that tin-can telephone strung between our bedrooms, did we?"

Tommy Lee chuckled. "Uh-uh. Instead we were forced to use the real one and drive our parents crazy."

Rachel was conscious of Beth, looking on and listening with piqued interest. She gave her a quick glance. "Your daddy was a devil. Do you know what he used to do?" She again fixed her grin up at the man across the table, and beneath it rubbed his trouser leg with her shoe. "He had this old purse and he stuffed it full of play money, tied a string to its handle, and laid it out in the middle of the street in the dark of night. Then he'd hide in the bushes, hold on to the other end of the string and wait for some unsuspecting driver to come rolling along and spy the purse in his headlights. But, of course, by the time the car had jerked to a stop, or backed up, and the driver got out to investigate, the treasure had disappeared from sight!"

Tommy Lee laughed. "God, I'd forgotten about that. The old purse-on-the-string trick. Remember the time we pulled it on old man Mullins? I thought that old dude was gonna commit himself by the time he finally gave up."

"I wasn't with you when you duped old man Mullins. Once was enough for me, lying out in the weeds with the worms and snails and getting bitten up by insects, all for such nonsense."

Though their reminiscing had intrigued Beth, she took no part in the conversation, nor did she show any enthusiasm during the remainder of the day. They spent it at Tommy Lee's house, and though time and again Rachel tried to draw Beth out, she was unsuccessful. Beth's reticence remained between them, intractable.

By the time Tommy Lee drove Rachel back into town, she had a pounding headache. She sighed and fell back against the car seat.

"I don't think it worked," she said. "She's totally belligerent."

Tommy Lee drew on his cigarette, scowled and brooded. "Dammit, she was a rude little snot!"

Rachel reached over and brushed his arm. "We have to give her time to get used to me."

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

"It's not your fault. And don't give up yet. We'll try again."

"I just don't understand her!" He thumped the steering wheel. "How could she sit there scowling at you all day long? Didn't she realize how rude that was?"

"She was making her point, darling. I'm a threat to her or haven't you heard? Women of all ages are infamous for being possessive about their men. She'll get over it, but we have to be patient."

But Tommy Lee had wasted too many years to wax patient when the woman he loved had agreed to marry him and the greatest stumbling block seemed to be his petulant teenage daughter.

When he returned home and walked into his house it was as if a different personality had stepped into Beth's body. This one was smiling and gay and filled with chatter.

"Hi. Fixed us a snack-hot fudge sundaes with pecans. Should I scoop you out one now?"

He threw his car keys onto the table and swung to face her, suddenly upset with her constant attempts to win him over by playing the surrogate housewife. "I'm on a diet. I'll pass."

She stood in the middle of the room holding a dish of chocolate-covered ice cream, licking the back of the spoon. At his curt reply she looked up innocently. "Oh. Well… should I slice you some fruit then?"

"Beth, I don't need mothering, all right? And I have a housekeeper, so you don't need to constantly try to please me with all this… this domestic subterfuge! What I want you for is to be my daughter."

"Well!" she huffed. "I thought I was."

"Then start acting like one and stop acting like a jealous brat!"

Her face soured. "I can see she's been working on you."

"She has a name!" Tommy Lee's face reddened with anger and he hooked his thumbs on his hips. "It's Rachel, and I'd appreciate it if you'd afford her the common courtesy of using it when she's here! And the last thing in the world she'd think of doing is working on me, as you put it. She was totally willing to excuse your unforgivable rudeness to her today." He tapped his chest. "But I'm not!"

"When she's with you, you forget that I'm even in the room!"

"That's not true and you know it."

"Oh, isn't it? All day long the two of you blabbed on and on about all that junk from when you were kids and left me out."

"And what did you do when she asked you about your dancing, and about school? You grunted a one-word answer and turned a cold shoulder on her. How do you think that made her feel when she was trying her best to be friendly?"

Beth's face was a mask of hatred. "I will never be her friend. Never! Because she's the one… I know she's the one. I found that box of pictures and I know!"

Tommy Lee's brows curved into a frown. "What pictures? What are you talking about?"

She pointed to a distant spot in the house. "All those pictures of you and her, from the time you were babies, naked in a plastic wading pool, riding your tricycles together, and all the way up through high school. You've got more pictures of her than you do of Mother!"

"Beth, we grew up together. You knew that."

"Yes, I knew that." There were tears on Beth's cheeks now. "Mother told me there was someone in your past who made you go through three wives, but none of them could ever measure up to her. She didn't know who it was, but I do! And if it wasn't for your precious Rachel things would have turned out different for me. I'd have a… a mother and a father like other kids, and… and..."

Suddenly Beth threw her dish and spoon on the floor and spun from the room, sobbing.

"Beth, wait!"

"Go to your precious Rachel! Go!" she screamed, slamming up the stairs.

Tommy Lee's heart thundered as he stood in indecision. Should he go to Beth and allay her fears, assure her he'd never leave her as he had her mother? For that was her greatest fear, it was plain. Years of living with a single parent-and a bitter one at that-had left Beth insecure and grasping.

Tommy Lee sighed and dropped to a chair, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.

Complications. The need for love, that all-powerful drive experienced by everyone-would it work against him all his life?

He considered going upstairs and telling Beth the entire story about Rachel and himself, but she was only fourteen years old. She had her whole sexual life ahead of her. A story like that might leave her with any number of false impressions-that he condoned sex at sixteen, that Rachel was a "bad girl" when she was young, that she was indeed responsible for Nancy's bitterness.

Lord, what went through the minds of fourteen-year-old girls? He didn't know. He'd never had one before. If he told her the whole truth, would it soften his daughter or add to the problem? And to tell it was to include, by necessity, his own estrangement from his parents. Surely she would question him about that. He had promised Rachel he'd make an attempt at reconciliation, but stepping up to that house, then inside it, after all these years, was going to be even more difficult than dealing with Beth.

Gentry, how did you get into this emotional mess?

Disconsolate, he held his head in both hands and stared at the floor between his feet. Then with a weary sigh he unfolded himself and went to clean up the bowl of ice cream. It had left a stain on the carpet, and he supposed he should have hauled Beth back to pick up the mess herself, instead of allowing her to throw a tantrum and get away with it.

How does a guy learn to be a father?

Hunkered down on one knee in the middle of the living-room floor, a dishcloth dangling from his fingers, he dropped his elbow and forehead onto the upraised knee and fought the urge to cry.