Underfoot

Walking the rest of the way to her car, she got inside and tossed her purse on the passenger seat. She started the engine and drove out of the parking lot. In her rearview window, she saw Walker still watching her.

CHAPTER SIX

ENTERING THE FOYER of her home, Trina kicked off her heels and plopped her purse and keys on the antique Italian credenza she’d bought at an auction.

The sound of her mother singing a wobbly, warbly rendition of a lullabye broke the silence. Trina rolled her eyes at the sound, but smiled at the same time. Trina and her mother hadn’t gotten along well for about twenty-eight of Trina’s twenty-nine years and they were nowhere near compatible now, but Maddie had managed to bring them to speaking terms.

Maddie had softened the edges of Aubrey’s harsh, often sharp personality, and Trina found it difficult to hold a grudge when she saw her mother willing to make a fool of herself for her only grandchild.

After her lousy meeting with Walker, Trina just wanted to see her baby. She had a terrible feeling that things would change once Walker learned the truth. Now it was just Maddie and her. And while it had been hard in the beginning and Trina never would have predicted it, Maddie provided her with a haven from the insanity of the rest of the world. She tiptoed up the stairs to the nursery and peeked inside.

Her mother eyes were closed as she continued to warble. Maddie made conversational nonsense noises and waved her little hand toward Aubrey’s face.

The poor child was probably trying to find a way to stop the noise her mother was making. Trina scolded herself for the wicked thought.

Aubrey’s eyes opened and she immediately met Trina’s gaze. Her mother’s instincts about her had always amazed her. Aubrey stopped singing mid-phrase and glanced down at Maddie. She sighed. “You’re wide-awake. Time for your Momma.”

“Thank you for taking care of her.” Maddie walked to the rocking chair and took her daughter into her arms. The soft warm weight of her filled a hollow space inside her. She looked down at her carrot-topped baby. “You smell good enough to eat,” she said to Maddie. “Did your Nanna give you a bath?”

Maddie’s mouth stretched into a wide smile and she chortled.

“She’s just like you. Loves her bath,” Aubrey said.

“Thank you, again,” Maddie said, settling into the rocking chair.

“You’re welcome,” Aubrey said. “It was a bit short notice, but since I didn’t have anything scheduled, I could help you. I don’t understand why she won’t go to sleep to the lullabye. It always worked for you.”

“She’s definitely an individual.”

Aubrey sniffed. “She got that from you, too. I’ll wait downstairs for you.”

Trina began to stroke Maddie’s forehead and talked in a soft voice. She’d found it didn’t matter what she said. The stroking and the tone did the trick. “I had a totally terrible time tonight,” she said softly. “I would have enjoyed being with you much more.” An image of Walker raced through her mind and she paused.

Maddie squirmed as if to signal she wanted Trina to continue. Trina smiled and began to stroke Maddie’s forehead again. “But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about me meeting you for lunch tomorrow. Do you think you would like sweet potatoes and green beans? Does that sound good? And if it’s pretty outside, I’ll take you for a stroll…”

Maddie’s little body relaxed and her breathing settled into a steady rhythm. “Works like magic,” Trina said and laid Maddie in the crib.

She walked downstairs and found her mother sitting in the den. Aubrey glanced up and studied her from behind her half-glasses. “You’re wearing makeup,” her mother observed. “And you’ve done something to your hair.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Who did you meet tonight?”

Trina waved her hand and went to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. “Just someone from the advertising agency Bellagio has hired. No big deal.” Except he was hot, and the father of her child.

“Male?” her mother asked.

“Yes, but I think he’s gay,” she lied. That always ended her mother’s inquisitions.

“Oh,” her mother said, then frowned in confusion. “Then why did you dress up?”

“Maybe I listened to my mother and decided it was time to make some effort,” Trina said, swallowing a long drink of water.

“Well, I think that’s wonderful. Are you going to join a weight-loss plan? I’ll be happy to take care of Maddie while—”

“One thing at a time,” Trina said, feeling a sharp jab of irritation. “Why do people find it necessary to comment on my weight? It’s not as if I’m as big as a barn. I’m carrying ten or fifteen extra pounds. In a different century, I would still have been considered too thin for Rubenesque.”

“Oh, other people are commenting,” her mother said sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s because you’re just so close and it would take so little effort—lose a few pounds, get a haircut and color, put on some makeup and buy a new outfit. Then maybe you could get a date.”

As if she couldn’t get one now. Trina didn’t really know if she could get a date. It had been so long since her last date, since the last time she’d had sex. Walker. Last sex…but it hadn’t been a real date. And if skinny Blair had her way, Walker would be taking her out, maybe marrying her.

The thought irritated her. It shouldn’t, she told herself, because marrying Blair would provide its own punishment for Walker. Unless he actually preferred that kind of woman.

Which was none of her business anyway.

“I told you, Mother, that I’m really not dying to date right now. And with my job changes, I’m going to have even less time than before.”

“Job changes?” her mother echoed. “What job changes?”

Trina bit her tongue and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “Nothing major, but I’ve been asked to take on more responsibility.”

“What about Maddie?”

“I’m thinking of hiring someone to help me out. Grocery shopping, meal preparation, taking care of Maddie when I need to stay a little late.”

“Well, I could shop for you and take care of Maddie, and I’m sure Hilda would be happy to cook.”

Trina shook her head. Hilda had been her mother’s nanny during her growing-up years. She was the only hired help still living with her mother and that was primarily because Hilda was eighty-one and had nowhere else to go. “No. Hilda has enough to do and you have a full schedule with bridge and charity.”

Her mother turned silent and her lower lip began to quiver. “You don’t trust me to take care of Madeline.”

Trina immediately felt split in opposing directions. While Aubrey treated Maddie with grandmotherly indulgence, Trina wasn’t sure when that might change to critical intrusion, and she was determined to protect Maddie and herself from the attitude she’d endured during her childhood and adolescence…hell, make that most of her entire life. “That’s not true,” Trina said, trying to be diplomatic. “I asked you to keep her tonight for me, didn’t I? But everyday care is different.”

Her mother opened her mouth to protest and Trina shook her head. “I’ve had a long day at work and I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Thank you for taking care of Maddie tonight.”

“But you should listen to me—”

“Mother, we’ve been over this. You may be my mother, but I am Maddie’s mother, so what I say goes.”

Her mother pressed her lips together in disapproval. “You never listen to me. I may as well go home. Good night,” she said and stiffly walked out of the room.

Trina heard the slam of the front door and winced. Her stomach twisted in a knot and she closed her eyes to take a deep breath. It was all about control, her counselor had told her years ago, and her mother couldn’t stand not having control.

She grabbed the mail her mother had brought in from the kitchen counter and went to the den to collapse onto the couch. Bills, advertisements. She fanned through the envelopes and paused at one that was handwritten. A letter, and the return address wasn’t family. She opened it, and the salutation nearly gave her a heart attack.

Dear Kat, How about a blast from your past? I’ll never forget the time we had together in Myrtle Beach. I’m getting out of prison soon. We should get together. Write back. Affectionately, Stan

Trina stuffed the letter back into the envelope and rushed to the kitchen to throw it in the trash can. She stared at the trash can for a moment then washed her hands with antibacterial cleanser and rinsed them thoroughly.

She never wanted to see the man again in her life. Mistake didn’t cover what she’d done with Stan Roch. Nineteen, stupid and rebellious, she’d married the man. She’d obtained a divorce six weeks later, but only after he’d been hauled off to jail for armed robbery.

Standing in the complete quiet of her home, she wondered which was worse, having her ex-husband, who happened to be an ex-convict, show up wanting to resume the relationship. Or having to tell a man that he was the father of her six-month-old daughter.