r picnic?”
Georgeanne shrugged. “A girl can hope. And besides, I’m not convinced John will really want to be a part of Lexie’s life forever. I can’t help but think that sooner or later he’ll get tired of being a daddy. I just hope it happens sooner than later, because if he abandons her after she’s come to care for him, it will break her heart. You know how protective I am, and of course, something like that would bring out my bad temper. I’d naturally feel compelled to retaliate.”
Mae considered Georgeanne one of the genuinely nicest women she knew, except when she lost her temper. “What would you do?”
“Well, the thought of putting termites in his houseboat does hold a certain appeal.”
Mae shook her head. She was fiercely loyal to both mother and daughter, and she considered them her family. “Too slow.”
“Running him down with my car?”
“You’re getting warmer.”
“Drive-by shooting?”
Mae smiled, but dropped the subject as Lexie walked toward them, dragging her kite behind her. The little girl collapsed on the ground at her mother’s feet, the hem of her denim sundress riding up to her Pocahontas underwear. Clumps of grass were stuck to her clear jelly sandals.
“I can’t run no more,” she gasped. For a change, her face was clean of cosmetics.
“You did a real good job, precious darlin‘,” Georgeanne praised. “Would you like a juice box?”
“No. Will you run with me and help get my kite in the air?”
“We’ve talked about this. You know I can’t run.”
“I know,” Lexie sighed, and sat up. “It hurts your boobs and it’s tacky.” She shoved her hat back on her head and looked up at Mae. “Can you help me?”
“I would, but I don’t wear a bra.”
“Why not?” Lexie wanted to know. “Mommy does.”
“Well, Mommy needs to, but Aunt Mae doesn’t.” She studied the little girl for a brief moment, then asked, “Where’s all the goop you usually wear on your face?”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “It’s not goop. It’s my makeup, and Mommy told me that I could have a Kitten Surprise if I didn’t wear it today.”
“I told you I’d buy you a real kitten if you didn’t wear it at all. You’re too young to be a slave to Max Factor.”
“Mommy says I can’t have a kitty or a dog or nothin‘.”
“That’s right,” Georgeanne said, and looked at Mae. “Lexie isn’t old enough for the responsibility of a pet, and I don’t want the burden. Let’s drop this subject before Lexie gets started on it.” Georgeanne paused, then lowered her voice. “I think she might finally be over her fixation with my having a… well, you know.”
Yes, Mae knew, and she thought Georgeanne was wise not to say it out loud and remind Lexie. For about the last six months, Lexie had been preoccupied with the notion that Georgeanne should provide her with a little brother or sister. She’d driven everyone nuts, and Mae was relieved she wouldn’t have to hear about babies anymore. The kid already had a long-standing obsession with owning a pet and had been a certified hypochondriac since birth, which was one hundred percent Georgeanne’s fault since she’d always made a big deal out of every little scratch and scrape.
Mae reached for her tea, raised it halfway to her lips, then set it back down. Walking toward her were two very big, very athletic men. She recognized the man wearing a white collarless shirt tucked inside faded jeans as John Kowalsky. The other man, who was slightly shorter with less bulk, she’d never seen before.
Big, strong men had always intimidated Mae, and not just because she was five one and weighed one hundred five pounds either. Her stomach took a tumble, and she figured that if she was this nervous, then Georgeanne was close to a complete wig-out. She glanced at her friend and saw the anxiety in her eyes.
“Lexie, get up and wipe the grass from your dress,” Georgeanne said slowly. Her hand shook as she reached down and helped her daughter to her feet.
Mae had seen Georgeanne nervous many times, but she hadn’t seen her this bad for several years. “Are you going to be okay?” she whispered.
Georgeanne nodded, and Mae watched as she pasted a smile on her face and flipped on her hostess switch. “Hello, John,” Georgeanne said as the two men approached. “I hope you didn’t have trouble finding us.”
“No,” he answered, stopping directly in front of them. “No trouble.” His eyes were covered by a pair of expensive dark sunglasses. His lips were set in a straight line, and for several awkward seconds, the two just stared at each other. Then Georgeanne abruptly turned her attention to the other man, whom Mae estimated to be around six feet tall. “You must be a friend of John’s.”
“Hugh Miner.” He smiled and stuck out his hand.
While Georgeanne took his hand in both of hers, Mae studied Hugh. With one cursory glance, she determined that his smile was too pleasant for a man with such intense hazel eyes. He was too big, too handsome, and his neck was too thick. She didn’t like him.