Susan had had her own individual interview with the judge, and then had been shunted out of the hearing, just like everyone else. She hadn’t even had time to brood about her choice of the peach dress in favor of the nice conservative little navy blue one that made her look bosomy and maternal. The one that she had left in the closet that morning. Now that she was all alone in the hall, she knew what she should have worn, just as she suddenly had brilliant answers for all the judge’s questions. Impressive detail, emotional impact, ear-ringing conviction…
But what had she actually said? The children would have a period of adjustment; she’d said she understood that. She had explained her idea of a nurturing home and family life; she’d described the way in which she saw the three children and their individual needs. She didn’t know a great deal about children; she’d had to admit that. She would love them, yes. Loving them would not be difficult at all. God, that answer had come from the heart.
What could possibly be taking so long?
The oak door burst open, and she whirled to face it. Griff’s gray suit was somber, proper, the maroon tie just so, the starched shirt dauntingly appropriate, blond hair slicked back, neat and conservative. He turned to her, and she caught the dancing dark eyes. Joy, relief, happiness…
Her heels click-clicked, then went into double time. In seconds, she was in Griff’s arms; her toes left the floor as he caught her in a bear hug, and suddenly both of them were laughing. Tears in public embarrassed Susan, yet her lashes were shamelessly damp. God, he felt good! How much worry and guilt had he shed in the past few minutes? Tons. She could feel his relief in the relaxed strength of his arms, see it in his dancing eyes, sense it in the kiss he gave her, which a dozen people-including Sheila-made a polite effort to ignore as they walked past.
The children were theirs.
After four chaotic days of moving all the kids’ belongings to their house, Griff had announced that he and Susan were going to steal two hours of privacy away from all the confusion. Susan had her choice of restaurants. “I think you deliberately brought me here because you knew you’d be the most beautiful woman in the place,” Griff accused.
Susan nodded, pitching into the lobster on her plate with the same enthusiasm Griff was showing. Her eyes flicked absently around the attractive restaurant. Anchors and boating paraphernalia decorated the expensively paneled walls; thick navy carpeting felt lush beneath her stockinged feet. She had tucked her shoes out of sight a second and a half after sitting down. If the kids were only four days new to the household, her feet seemed to have aged a thousand years. The peace and silence of the restaurant seemed appallingly strange.
Four other women were seated at nearby tables. One was chunky, to put it politely. Two were skinny and wore horn-rimmed glasses-a matched pair. And one was a dowager swaddled in brocade. Susan definitely felt beautiful, if a trifle annoyed with herself. It was an evening for champagne, the first evening she and Griff had been alone together to celebrate the past momentous week, but instead of wine, she was sipping water. Her stomach rejected the thought of alcohol; this would have annoyed her even more if Griff had noticed. He hadn’t. “If you feel attracted to anyone else in the room, this is probably the only evening in our entire marriage when I will invite you to flirt with another woman,” she offered gravely.
“Thank you so much, Susan.”
“The one in the purple-and-red print is probably very friendly,” Susan encouraged.
“I’d need a paper bag.”
She gulped down a mouthful of water and stared at him. “Was that a vulgar comment?” she asked interestedly.
“Of course not, Susan.”
His eyes were full of the very devil; they had been all evening. He stabbed a succulent bit of lobster, dipped it in butter and raised the fork to her lips. When she’d first met him, such an action would have made her eyes dart around in alarm to make sure that no one was watching. Now she couldn’t care less. Griff had been a disgustingly debilitating influence on her sense of propriety and reserve.
He was also the handsomest man in the place. Oh, there was the one self-satisfied number in the corner, all dark hair and brooding bedroom eyes. He’d assessed Susan’s figure like a surveyor when she’d walked in. Griff had meticulously seated her out of the man’s line of vision, but Susan noted that her husband’s eyes occasionally flicked past her, sending out civilized little articles of war. She knew exactly the moment the man left.
The waitress stopped at their table with a pot of coffee. Susan nodded yes. Griff just looked at her. He was having distinct difficulty keeping his hands off his wife. There seemed a special loveliness about her lately, and especially tonight. He’d asked her to wear the peach dress again; that was part of it. So was the special luster to her hair, the sheer joy that radiated from her clear gray eyes. Her happiness bubbled so easily when the people around her were happy, an unselfish quality that stirred protective feelings in Griff. “Susan.”
She lifted her head as she wiped her drenched fingers on a napkin, and leaned back, replete.
“Honey, I know you can’t feel entirely comfortable with how fast this has all happened with the kids,” he said quietly.
“Of course I am, Griff-”
“Three more people in the household so suddenly?” He shook his head, leaning both elbows on the table and pushing his plate out of his way. “If it doesn’t bother you, love, it does me. I’ve come to depend on the private times with you, Susie, and loving the kids doesn’t mean we don’t have the right to be alone anymore. Naturally, this week has been sheer confusion, but when the tennis racquets and CDs and whatnot are all in their proper places, it might help if we got someone in to clean the house.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “You mean a housekeeper?”
He nodded. “And someone who’d prepare an occasional meal, be home when the kids arrive from school-”
“Nope.” Susan smiled. “Griff, I just hired Jeff to help out at the shop so I can get home by three. That gives me lots of time to take care of the house, and it allows me to be home for the kids after school.” She added in a cloaked whisper, “Kindly don’t mention it too loud in this feminist day and age, but I happen to like homemaking. Disgusting, I know…”
“Honey…”
“No one’s going to break my china but me. Besides, Sheila will have the kids every second weekend. It’ll work out. You’ll see.” Why she sounded so sure, Susan had no idea. Except that just having acquired a family, she felt possessive about them. No intruders wanted. And surely the incredible chaos of the past few days couldn’t last forever?
“I hope you’re thinking of the cost, Miss Penny Pincher of the Year, where you yourself are concerned-”
Susan admitted honestly, “The cost is part of it. Why should we pay some stranger to break that first cup? Men never understand about a brand-new set of china. This one happens to be hand-painted.”