Vanessa's Match. Judy ChristenberryЧитать онлайн книгу.
but we don’t always have an invitation to Rick’s for dinner, you know.”
“Ah, yes, I forgot about that.” At Lindy’s alarmed look, she hastily added, “Temporarily, of course. I have it written in my day planner.”
“Oh, good. I was thinking maybe I could wear my new pink dress.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“What will you wear?”
“Me? I don’t think it matters what I wear. Rick will be focused on you, not me.”
Lindy kept her head down, saying nothing for several minutes, but Vanessa waited patiently.
“Maybe…maybe Rick only invited me so you’d come,” she finally said, almost in a whisper.
Vanessa put her arm around the young girl. “I can guarantee you that’s not the case. Don’t even give it another thought.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I think he realized he should be there the first time you come back to the family home. That’s what his father would’ve wanted—Let me rephrase that. That’s what your father would’ve wanted.”
Tears filled Lindy’s eyes. “I can’t really remember him,” she confessed. “When I think about him, I remember how he made me feel, rather than what he looked like.”
“Don’t you have a picture of him?” Vanessa asked, shocked.
“No. Mom didn’t have any pictures of him. I asked her once, but she said no.”
“Maybe while we’re over there Rick will let you have a picture of your father.”
“Do you think he might? I’d like that.”
Vanessa made a mental note to call Rick later, when Lindy wasn’t around.
Just then, the phone rang downstairs, which meant it was for her parents. Vanessa ignored it. Betty would answer it if her mother wasn’t available. To her surprise, Betty called up the stairs for her.
“Excuse me, Lindy. I’ll go see what Betty wants.”
She quickly ran down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Vanessa. Your sister is on the line, wanting to know if Lindy could baby-sit tonight,” Betty said. “She didn’t want to call on your line because she figured Lindy would hear the conversation. She thought you should decide if you thought it was okay before she talked to Lindy.”
“Oh. I’d better talk to her.” She went to the phone in the library. “Becca? It’s Vanessa. You need Lindy for tonight?”
“Yes. Jeff wants me to accompany him to dinner with one of his clients. We’ll be home before ten. Do you think Lindy could baby-sit?”
“She probably could, but you could bring the kids over here.”
“I know, but I thought it would be good for Lindy’s self-esteem, and the kids will be in bed asleep when we get home, which will be nice.”
“Okay. Do you want to talk to her?”
“I’ll call on your line, if you want, and we can pretend this conversation never happened. Okay?”
“Sure. Give me a couple of minutes to get back upstairs. And, Becca? Thanks.”
Vanessa could hear the smile in her sister’s voice. When Rebecca said, “I wasn’t around when you were little. It’s the least I can do. And it helps me, too.”
After hanging up, Vanessa hurried upstairs. Rebecca was right. Baby-sitting would help Lindy’s self-esteem. She composed her features so Lindy wouldn’t know what was happening until Rebecca called.
Lindy looked up. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure. Betty wanted to see if we’d be happy with what she was thinking about for dinner. But I told her we always love anything she fixes,” Vanessa said with a smile.
Before Lindy could ask what was for dinner, which Vanessa realized would have been the snag in her story, the phone rang again. “Hello?” Vanessa answered. “Oh, hi, Becca. Yes, she’s here.” She handed the phone to Lindy, who looked apprehensive.
That apprehension turned to delight as Lindy listened to Rebecca’s request. After agreeing to the offer, she hung up the phone and turned to Vanessa in excitement.
“She wants me to baby-sit! She said the kids like me and she thinks I’ll be responsible! Isn’t that amazing?”
“I think it’s perfectly normal. How much is she paying you?”
“Paying me? Oh, no, she shouldn’t pay me!”
“Why not?”
Lindy gave her a shocked look. “But I’m just—Isn’t that something you do for each other?”
“Maybe, and she knows that I’d baby-sit for her, but she wants to have the kids in bed on time in their own beds. That means someone has to be inconvenienced by coming to her house. And that means she’ll pay you.”
“And you think I should accept it?”
“Yes, I think you should.”
“I’ll give the money to you, of course.”
“Why would you do that?”
“To help pay for the things you’ve bought me.”
Vanessa smiled and shook her head. “Your brother is paying for everything. You can offer him the money if you want, but he won’t take it.”
Lindy seemed thrilled, and wandered off to her room with a big smile.
Now that she was alone, it was time for Vanessa to put into action her earlier plan. Lindy wanted a picture of her father, and that’s just what she would get. No matter that Vanessa had to go to Rick to get it.
Chapter Four
When Rick answered his cell phone after he got back to his hotel, a familiar voice sounded in his ear.
“Hi, Mrs. Abby. Everything okay?”
“Of course,” his housekeeper replied. “But I have a question. Miss Shaw called earlier today. She asked if you had a spare picture of your father for Lindy. Apparently the child doesn’t have a photo of him.”
Rick couldn’t think of anything to say. While he was annoyed that Vanessa had called, a sadness niggled at the thought that Lindy didn’t have a picture of her own father. Every child should have that, he thought, and again he took responsibility for not thinking of that nine years ago. He’d just assumed Anita—He pulled up short on that thought; he should’ve known better than to expect anything from that woman.
Before he could reply, Mrs. Abby continued.
“Miss Shaw suggested I might find a photo or duplicate one so you could give it to Lindy Wednesday night. When I said I would, she said not to do it without checking with you first, because she didn’t want to make you mad.”
Rick growled inwardly. The sadness and sympathy he had felt for Lindy were pushed out by anger and indignation, thanks to that incendiary comment. To believe that—and to say it to his housekeeper! That was all he needed, for Vanessa to make him sound like an unfeeling animal.
“She sounded very nice on the phone,” Mrs. Abby said. “Why would that make you mad?”
“It wouldn’t have. She’s a difficult female, that’s all.”
“Hmmm. Whatever you say. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Uh, Mrs. Abby,” he said quickly, stopping her from hanging up. “How did Miss Shaw get my number at the house?”
“She said she’d spoken to your attorney.”