The Sassy One

8

“And one, and two, and three, and now!”

Kelly moved in time with the music. She swept her arms up in the air, then bent low at the waist, turning slightly. Her young face was the picture of concentration. Despite the plain black tights and leotards, with her hair pulled back and her skin bare of makeup, she reminded Francesca of a butterfly in a flower garden, flitting with grace and delight on a perfect summer day.

As she had learned in the past hour, the reality of ballet was far more about hard work than flitting, but the end result was just as beautiful. As the music swelled slightly, Kelly rose on her toes and began to turn slowly. Her little skirt swayed with the movement.

Francesca knew she should be working on organizing her paper, or reading the research book she’d brought with her, but she’d been unable to tear her attention away from Kelly’s dance audition. What she knew about ballet and classical music wouldn’t fill a thimble. She’d seen The Nutcracker a couple of times, but other than that her cultural education had been limited to the occasional trip to the opera.

Sitting at the edge of the practice room, she could see firsthand how difficult the moves were. The first half hour had been devoted to specific moves done at slow speed. But the lack of speed didn’t make it easy. Parts of different dances had filled the second half hour. The instructor had called out the name of a ballet and some other instructions in French, then Kelly had performed.

Francesca watched her. The slender preteen moved with a grace that made Francesca envious. With her hair pulled back, she looked older than twelve. Her eyes seemed more green than they had the night before. She was already pretty-becoming beautiful was only a few years away. Sam was going to have plenty of trouble when the boys started to come calling.

The instructor-Miss Angelina-spoke in rapid French. Francesca had taken a couple of years of Spanish in high school and knew a smattering of Italian from her father’s family. For all she knew, Miss Angelina was telling Kelly to get ready to rob a convenience store. But instead of reaching for weapons, Kelly curtsied.

Miss Angelina nodded and left the room. Kelly stared after her.

In that moment, longing tightened the girl’s features. She looked alone, vulnerable, and very young.

Francesca stood. “What happened?” she asked.

Kelly shrugged. “I’m in. No biggie. You saw those other girls when we got here. Some of them are good, but the rest…” She shrugged and started toward the dressing room.

Francesca wanted to follow her and shake her. Being accepted into the dance class was a big deal. Why couldn’t Kelly be excited? Why didn’t she jump around like a normal kid? Or had life taught her not to show emotions because they could be used against her?

“I have Kelly’s application papers here,” the instructor said as she walked back into the studio. Her voice was lilting, and tinged with a French accent. “She will join my upper-intermediate class. If she works hard, she’ll be with the advanced students within a year.”

Angelina’s eyes narrowed. “You are her mother?” She sounded doubtful.

“No. A friend of the family.”

Angelina looked her over. Francesca fought against the sudden need to stand straighter and square her shoulders.

“She will need a practice room. Class is five days a week in the summer, but when school begins it is only three times a week.” She shrugged delicately. “She will have to dance on her own the other days. Unless you hire a private tutor, she must attend academic classes, yes?”

A private tutor? So she could dance the rest of the time. This was so not her world. At least Sam’s house had plenty of bedrooms. One could probably be converted to a practice room.

“I’ll pass the message along to her father.”

“My bill.” The teacher handed her another sheet of paper. “This is for a month’s worth of lessons.”

Francesca glanced down at the total at the bottom and nearly fell over. She could easily live on that amount for two months.

“Anything else?” she asked, trying not to look shocked.

Angelina shook her head and smiled. “The rest is up to Kelly. Soon we will see if she has the backbone and the drive to devote herself to the ballet. She has much talent, but at this stage in her career, success will be about hard work. Oui?”

Kelly was only twelve. Francesca didn’t think anyone should be using the word career in reference to anything she id.

“Thank you so much for your time,” Francesca told her.

Angelina nodded gracefully, then returned to her office. Seconds later Kelly emerged from the dressing room.

“That was something,” Francesca said as she approached. “I’m amazed and impressed. I had no idea a class could be so much work.”

“That wasn’t a regular class. Miss Angelina wanted to see what I could do. Is that the application and stuff?” she asked, pointing at the folder.

“Yes. I’ll give it to your father when we get back to the house. Speaking of which, do you want to head home or go out for lunch? It’s only a little after noon.”

Kelly gave a heavy sigh of the long-suffering. “Lunch would be okay.”

Francesca wanted to tell her not to put herself out, but she held back. As she’d told Sam the previous evening, Kelly was acting up because she was scared. Somewhere under that prickly exterior was a charming young woman waiting to blossom. At least, that was the fantasy.

Thirty minutes later they were seated on a patio table in the shade. Kelly had left her hair up, but had pulled on jeans and a T-shirt over her ballet clothes. Francesca studied the menu and mentally winced at the prices. Twelve-fifty for a salad? If this was lunch, how much would dinner cost?

Not her problem, she reminded herself. That morning Sam had handed over cash, along with phone numbers and instructions to have fun. She’d been uncomfortable taking money from him, but as he’d pointed out, she was taking care of his daughter. That was favor enough without making her pay for anything.

She had agreed, mostly because she didn’t have a choice. Places like this weren’t in her budget.

The waitress arrived. They each ordered a Chinese chicken salad. Kelly asked for a cup of soup to start with while Francesca decided to content herself with the incredible French bread they’d brought.

When the two of them were alone, Francesca looked at Sam’s daughter. The girl watched her carefully, as if not sure what was going to happen. Okay, so the situation was a little strange for both of them. Less than forty-eight hours ago neither had known the other existed. As the adult, Francesca knew it was up to her to make Kelly comfortable.

“You’re an incredible dancer,” she began, buttering a piece of bread. “How long have you been studying ballet?”

“Since I was six. I took a lot of different kinds of dance. Tap, modern, and ballet. Then a couple of years later I decided to focus on ballet.”

Francesca tried to remember focusing on anything but having fun with her sisters when she’d been that age. “Does it hurt to go up on your toes?”

“A little. You get used to it. I’ve been dancing on pointe for over a year. It’s no big deal.”

Francesca doubted that. “It seems like a big deal to me, but then, I’ve never been very coordinated. If I tried any of those moves you were doing, I’d probably take someone’s eye out.”

Kelly started to smile, then pressed her lips together. “Did you ever dance?”

Francesca knew she wasn’t talking about flailing about at school dances. “I was a cheerleader in high school. Does that count?”

Kelly rolled her eyes. “Not even close.”

“I didn’t think so. I can’t even say I was really good at it. I was enthusiastic, but I didn’t have a lot of talent. Some of the other girls had studied gymnastics, and they could do things with their bodies that astounded me. Of course, I never saw the point in being a human pretzel.”

Kelly reached for the bread and took a slice. “Are you divorced?”

The change in topic startled Francesca, but at least they were having a normal conversation. “No. I was married before, but my husband died.”

Kelly’s eyes widened. “For real? Was he old?”

“No. He was twenty-eight. He was killed in a car accident.”

Kelly stared at her. “I’ve never known anyone who died. Is it really spooky having to go to the funeral?”

“I don’t remember much about it.” Todd’s death had been unexpected, and the days that followed had passed in a blur. “I moved back home for a few weeks, and that made a big difference. My whole family was around me. My sisters especially.”

“You have sisters?” Kelly actually sounded interested.

“Three. Katie is a year older. Brenna is my twin, and Mia is nine years younger than me.”

Kelly leaned forward. “You have a twin?”

She nodded. “We’re fraternal, though, so we don’t look that much alike.”

“That is so cool.”

“My grandparents really wanted my folks to have a boy, but I kind of like that it’s only girls.”

Kelly’s expression turned wistful. “I would have liked a sister, but there was no way Tanya would ever get pregnant again. I was an accident.” She picked up another slice of bread. “She used to say a mistake. She said that nothing was worth feeling sick and being fat. Plus I guess labor is really bad. You didn’t have any kids, huh?”

Too much information, Francesca thought. “Todd and I wanted to wait a couple of years to start our family.”

“And then he was gone. Bummer.” Kelly eyed her. “Are you going to marry my dad?”

“No.”

She started to say they were just friends, but then she remembered Kelly’s definition of the word. While it described her relationship with Sam very well, she was uncomfortable with a twelve-year-old assuming she and Sam were having sex.

“He’s rich,” Kelly informed her. “Tanya always said that was the most important quality a man could have.”

“Not to me.”

Kelly snorted. “Oh, please. You drive an old truck and wear cheap clothes. Why wouldn’t you want someone with plenty of cash?”

Francesca bristled, then reminded herself Kelly was pushing back to get a reaction. “I’m in graduate school. Being poor comes with the territory.”

“That’s like college, right?”

“Yes. I have a bachelor’s degree. That took four years. Now I’m in a program for my master’s and my Ph.D.”

“What about your parents? Why aren’t they paying for stuff?”

“Because I don’t want them to. Going back to college was my decision. I want to pay my way.”

Kelly looked genuinely shocked. “Why?”

“Because it gives me a sense of accomplishment. I want to be independent. This decision is about who I am as a person.”

“You’re stupid,” Kelly muttered as her soup arrived. She picked up her spoon.

“Why do you dance?” Francesca asked, ignoring the “stupid” remark. “It’s a lot of hard work. You sweat, you get sore. No one pays you. You might be able to have a career as a dancer, but what if you don’t? You’ll have put in years of hard work, and what will you have to show for it?”

“That’s different.”

“Actually, it’s pretty much the same. We both have long-term goals that require a lot of us.”

“Yeah, but I expect Sam or Tanya to pay for it.”

“That may change as you get older.”

“No way.”

Kelly ate her soup. After a couple of minutes she said, “What are you studying?”

“Psychology.”

“Oh, perfect. So you’re going to tell my dad everything you think is wrong with me.”

“Probably.”

Kelly’s green eyes narrowed. “I’m very smart.”

“I know. You’re also resourceful, independent, and self-motivated.”

Kelly started to smile.

“Unfortunately, you have no sense of community, you don’t seem to care about anyone but yourself, and you have no respect for authority or rules.”

The smile faded.

Francesca shrugged. “It’s okay, Kelly. We all have flaws.”

The girl looked at her. “I don’t care what you think.”

“I’m sure that’s true. So what do you want to do this afternoon? I was thinking we could go shopping and get you a few things to tide you over until your belongings arrive.”

Kelly glanced at Francesca’s sundress and shook her head. “No, thanks. I don’t like bargain shopping.”

Did the kid know how to lob the insults or what? Francesca sipped her iced tea. “No problem. I’d thought going to a movie after shopping would be fun, but if you’re not interested, we’ll just go back to the house.”

Kelly dropped her spoon and glared, but didn’t speak. Francesca could feel her outrage. Sam’s daughter didn’t like being maneuvered into a corner, but Francesca didn’t know any other way to teach her lessons about courtesy. If Kelly wanted to blow everyone off, that was her business. But it was going to cost her things like movies and trips to the beach. With a little luck, and time, she would see the value of being more gracious.

Of course, Francesca could be wrong about all of this. Underneath the angry, hostile teen facade might be a really unpleasant kid. She hoped not, for Sam’s sake. And for Kelly’s.

“I come bearing Italian food,” Brenna said as she stepped into Francesca’s small apartment. “More important, I brought wine.”

Francesca took the offered bottles and carried them into the kitchen. “Good. I need a drink. I was getting so desperate, I was about to go to the grocery store and buy a bottle of something.” She looked at the chilled bottles of Marcelli Reserve Chardonnay. “This is much better.”

Brenna set a large Styrofoam container on the counter and pulled off the top. She wore her short dark hair pulled back with a headband. A loose shirt hung to mid-thigh, nearly covering her cutoff jean shorts.

“School giving you trouble?”

“I would have to have actually started my dissertation for it to be a problem. Right now it’s just nothing.”

Brenna pulled out foil-wrapped plates. “Chicken Marsala, roasted potatoes with red and yellow peppers, and green beans with almonds à la Grammy M.”

Francesca’s stomach growled. “Thanks for calling and suggesting this. I could use some company.”

“You could have come to the hacienda for dinner.”

Francesca shook her head. “That’s not the kind of company I need. Besides, you sounded like you were looking for an escape.”

“I was.” Brenna carried the serving dishes to the table, then dug around for a corkscrew.

Francesca grabbed plates, napkins, and flatware. When the table was set, she collected a wineglass for each of them, then pulled out a chair.

“Grandpa Lorenzo is making me crazy,” Brenna said as she poured the wine. “I’ve heard several rumors about him selling the winery. A couple of our neighbors have talked to me about it. I’d already asked him once, and I thought we had things settled. But with all the talk, I had to ask him again.”

“And?” Francesca asked as she slid a golden brown chicken breast onto her plate.

“And he says he’s considering selling.”

Francesca froze. She met her sister’s troubled gaze. “That’s not possible. Marcelli Wines is family.”

“That’s what I said.” She scooped a spoonful of green beans onto her plate. “We’re talking nearly seventy years of tradition. I just…” Brenna picked up her wineglass and took a long drink. “Damn him. He’s saying he has to sell because he can’t depend on me to stick around. For the first eighteen years of my life, all I heard was that I had to find a man, get married, and have babies. I married Jeff right on schedule. Like I was supposed to. And now our grandfather is complaining.”

Francesca felt her twin’s pain. “It’s unfair. If you’d stayed, he would have complained about that, too.”

“I know. The thing is, I’m back. I’ve learned my lesson about men. Since Jeff and I split up, I’ve buried myself in work. Within two days I realized I shouldn’t have left. There’s nothing I love more than the vineyards and making wine. That’s all I want to do. If he sells…”

Brenna angrily cut off a piece of chicken and shoved it in her mouth.

“Have you talked to him about this?” Francesca asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Brenna shook her head. “Do you think it would help?”

“I don’t know. If he understood how much you cared, it might make a difference.”

“He’s not going to listen. He only wants things his way.”

Francesca knew that was true. Her grandfather ruled the family with an iron fist. Make that an iron fist from the nineteenth century. His outdated rules and ideas about family life meant anyone disagreeing with him could be tossed out at a moment’s notice. The exiles were usually temporary, but still painful.

“I have so many ideas,” Brenna told her. “There are these wonderful Pinot grapes coming up for sale. I desperately want to buy them, but he won’t listen. Worse, the land could be going on the market. I’d kill for that.”

Francesca might be floating just above the poverty level because of her studies, but Brenna’s precarious financial situation was thanks to spending the past nine years supporting her soon-to-be ex-husband through his medical training. Once established as an up-and-coming cardiologist, Jeff had dumped his wife for a newer, younger model.

“What about the divorce settlement? Can’t you use that money to buy the grapes?” she asked as she bit into a piece of the chicken and tried not to moan. As usual, the Grands had created something delicious, tender, and addictive.

Brenna shrugged. “It would help, but then what? I’d have grapes and no way to process them. Renting equipment and space. Jeez, Francesca, we’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don’t know.”

She poked at the grilled potatoes on her plate. “Okay. I’ve been whining long enough. What’s going on with you? I called last night and you were out. Give me good news. Tell me you’ve met a fabulous new guy and you were having hot monkey sex for hours and hours.” She laughed. “On second thought, I might find that information a little depressing.”

Francesca pushed a few green beans around her plate. “Funny you should say that,” she told her sister.

Brenna’s mouth dropped open. “No way.”

“Way. Sort of.”

Brenna laughed, then raised her glass. “Good for you, girlfriend. I can’t believe you had sex. Are you sure? Were you all naked?”

“As there were only two of us in the room at the time, I’m pretty sure I can remember that part. Yes, we were naked.”

Brenna hooted. “This is so cool. Okay, start at the beginning. How did you meet? Who is this guy, and what on earth made you give up your quest for nunhood?”

Francesca told her about her experiment, and Sam’s rescue.

“I’m thrilled that you found someone willing to rescue helpless pregnant women, but slightly put off by him asking you out while you looked like that.”

Francesca sighed. “That’s what Mia said when she was here on Saturday. I’d already told him I wasn’t pregnant. He’s in the security business and was impressed that I could pull one over on him.”

“Fair enough. Now get to the sex part.”

Francesca grinned. “It just happened. I was attracted to him, and he seemed to be attracted to me. Normally I avoid that sort of thing.”

“Sure. Because it’s so much more interesting to go out with guys you’re not attracted to.”

Francesca ignored her. “I remembered what we’d talked about a few months ago. When you and Katie made me promise to fall into bed with the next normal guy I met.”

Brenna had been drinking. She nearly spit out her wine. “Francesca, we were kidding. If I remember correctly, we were drunk. Jeez, you can’t take that kind of stuff seriously. Is that really why you slept with him?”

“Sort of. Maybe.” Francesca remembered the night and her feeling of being so aroused, she was out of control. “I’ve spent the past few years avoiding relationships because I don’t want to get married again. But talking with you and Katie made me wonder if maybe there was a compromise. The occasional casual relationship with a man, complete with perks, and no ring.”

“I’m in favor of that,” Brenna said. “Marriage is trouble. So is love.” She cut off a piece of chicken. “Looking back on my sorry excuse for a marriage, I’m not sure I ever loved Jeff. He was the safe choice. At least, that’s what he looked like then. Now I know he was nothing but a lying weasel dog.”

“Todd didn’t lie,” Francesca said slowly, remembering her late husband. “But he wanted arm candy instead of a partner. I hated that.”

“I remember. Every time you expressed an opinion, he practically patted you on the head. As if you were as cute as a puppy performing a trick.”

Not what she’d wanted for her life, Francesca thought. Not then and not now.

“So this Sam guy isn’t like that?” Brenna asked.

“Not at all. Plus, he’s no more interested in a commitment than I am. Especially now.”

Brenna raised her eyebrows. “What happened?”

Francesca told her about Kelly’s arrival. Brenna dropped her fork as her mouth fell open.

“A kid? He has a kid?”

“Teen-zilla, according to him. I don’t think Kelly’s all that bad, although she is a handful. Her mother ignored her, gave her everything she wanted just to shut her up, and never set down any rules. Kelly is more than independent, she’s dictatorial.”

“Sounds like a fun kid. Are you sure the sex is worth it? Didn’t this unexpected arrival mess up your plans?”

“Sort of.” Sam had been worried about that, too, Francesca thought. “Sometimes I really like her, but she makes everything a challenge. I feel bad for her. She needs to be loved.”

Brenna’s eyes narrowed. “I recognize that tone. It’s the same one you used every time you wanted to drag home some stray dog or cat. You’re too soft-hearted for your own good. Do not go falling for this guy and his kid. Do you really want to take on a ready-made family? Now? You’re less than two years from finishing school.”

“I know and I agree. I don’t want to get married. I used to think I’d have children, but lately I’m not sure. If I don’t want a husband, then I’m stuck doing it on my own. I don’t know that I could stand the guilt of getting pregnant without being married. I mean, the whole family is Catholic and the Church really frowns on that.”

“You’d send the Grands into a Hail-Mary frenzy. Grandpa Lorenzo would have your hide.”

“He’d throw me out of the family.”

“Some days I don’t think that would be such a great loss.”

Francesca shrugged. “It’s not an issue. I have no plans to get pregnant, and I’m not falling for Sam.”

“Or the kid,” Brenna told her sternly. “Don’t you even think about rescuing her. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right.” Brenna refilled both their glasses. “Now I want to hear all the details about the sex. I haven’t even seen a naked man in months, and I’m going to have to live vicariously through you.”

“I do not kiss and tell.”

“Fine. Then make something up. I won’t know the difference.”

Kelly typed in the Internet address for one of her favorite clothing Web sites. “Cool,” she murmured. “Free shipping.”

After studying several camis and tops, she selected three of each, then moved on to skirts. A mock wrap with a slit caught her attention. Not that she went out all that much, but maybe Sam would take her to dinner or something.

“Not likely,” she told herself. He was turning out to be a real pinhead. Francesca?

Another no, especially after what had happened that afternoon.

She guessed she knew that Francesca was only trying to be, like, nice with her offer to go shopping. Kelly had really wanted to say yes. A trip to the mall would have been fun. And a movie. The one on the plane had been totally dumb. But she’d reacted without thinking. Not just saying no, but being mean, too.

Kelly shook her head. It was all Tanya’s fault. How many times had her mother asked her something like that? “Do you want to go shopping, Kelly?” Or if not shopping, then to the ballet or the theater. And if she said yes or acted interested, Tanya always gave her that smirky smile and shook her head.

“Well, I’m not taking you. Ask Mary.” Or Rosa or Sarah, whoever was currently in charge of taking care of her.

Kelly had a feeling that Francesca wasn’t like that. That she really would have taken her to the mall. But what if she’d just been playing, too?

Pushing the question to the back of her mind, Kelly completed her order. She changed the ship-to address on her account, so the clothes would come here instead of to the New York apartment, then clicked on “Place my order.”

But instead of the cheerful notice telling her that her order had been placed, there was only a single line explaining that her credit card had been denied.

Kelly frowned. That didn’t make sense.

She fished the credit card out of her backpack and checked the expiration date. It wasn’t until 2006. So what…?

Horror filled her. She remembered Sam yelling at her, telling her she wasn’t getting her own DVD player and her claim that she would simply buy it herself. He’d looked mad when she’d said that. He couldn’t have canceled her card, could he?

Three minutes later she hung up the phone and screamed. She flew out of her room and down the stairs.

“What did you do?” she screeched as she ran into the kitchen.

Her father stood at the stove, which was weird. Except for a couple of gay chefs her mother knew, she’d never seen a guy cook. Not that she cared right now.

Sam put down a spatula and faced her. “What’s your problem?”

She curled her hands into fists. “You canceled my credit card.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You had no right. It’s not yours. It’s not in your name.”

“You’re twelve, Kelly. You don’t need a credit card.”

His eyes were a really weird color. Sort of brown, but gold, too. Right now they were dark and cold and he looked mean.

But she wasn’t scared, she told herself. She was mad. “It was mine,” she insisted. “How am I supposed to take care of myself if I can’t buy stuff?”

“I’ll buy what you need.”

“No. You’ll buy what you want me to have. You won’t care about what I want.” Without her credit card she was stuck.

He sighed. “We’ll talk about the logistics of what and where the purchases will be after dinner. You’re just in time to wash your hands and set the table.”

“No! We’ll talk about it now.”

“I said later.”

“I don’t care what you said. I don’t even have any clothes to wear.”

“That’s because you turned down Francesca’s offer to take you shopping. Now you’ll have to wash what you have and wait for the rest of your things to arrive.”

Kelly’s eyes burned. She turned away as betrayal cut through her. She couldn’t believe Francesca had told Sam what had happened about the shopping. It wasn’t fair.

Sam sighed. “Kelly, I’m not trying to make your life miserable, although it may seem that way to you. Things are going to be different here. You’re not going to buy whatever you want, whenever it suits you. I will take care of you, but on my terms.”

So she didn’t matter at all. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Your things will arrive on Friday. That’s only three more days. If you don’t know how to do laundry, I’ll teach you.”

She spun back to face him. “I don’t do laundry. That’s why you’re supposed to have a maid.”

“Ours is gone right now. Either you do it yourself or you wear dirty clothes. I don’t care which. Now wash your hands and set the table.”

He turned off the grill set in the center of the stove. Two chicken breasts lay there. They were pale and unappealing.

“I’m not eating that,” she told him.

“It’s healthy.”

“It’s disgusting looking. Did you cook them?”

His expression hardened. “Yes. And I made the salad.”

She turned toward the table. There was a bowl of iceberg lettuce in the center. “That doesn’t even count as a vegetable.”

“It’s healthy,” he repeated.

“No, it’s not. So you’re not going to get me any clothes to wear, and now you’re trying to starve me. You’re really a lousy father.”

He took a step toward her. “It’s been forty-eight hours since you showed up, and I think I’m doing a hell of a job. If you’ve got a complaint, then put it in writing. Otherwise, wash your hands, set the table, and eat dinner.”

She glared at him. “Go to hell,” she said, speaking each word slowly, then walked out of the kitchen.

There was a moment of silence, then something slammed into a wall.

But Kelly didn’t feel victorious. She didn’t feel anything at all except empty, hungry, and very much alone.