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“I’ll leave a message on her cell. What made you decide to tell her about the baby?”
“Well, you didn’t seem to be picking up the phone.”
“I’ve been a little busy,” Hale said dryly.
“Ack. For your own son?”
Hale held on to his temper with an effort. While visiting his grandfather the day before he’d laid out all the events that had surrounded baby Declan’s birth, the terrible weather and Kristina’s death, expecting a different reaction from Declan’s rather befuddled “Well, why couldn’t you just wait for the ambulance, son?”
With his grandfather, sometimes explanations were a waste of breath. Hale had left him then, heading home to take a shower, drink a glass of red wine, and fall into bed. Sylvie had left him a message with Victoria Phelan’s number, and he’d made plans to meet with the nanny at the hospital this afternoon. As soon as he got up, he’d gone to see Savannah and the baby. Savvy had been on one foot and the other to get home, so he’d taken her into Seaside so she could rent a car. Then he’d headed to Ocean Park to meet Victoria and pick up baby Declan.
“I’ll come get you,” he said to his grandfather as Victoria cruised into the kitchen.
“I’ll get my overnight bag ready,” Declan said.
“You have formula?” Victoria mouthed, holding up a baby bottle, and he pointed to the cabinet that Kristina had chosen for baby supplies.
Victoria was slim and attractive, and he hoped she was going to be good for the baby. She’d signed a contract with Kristina, so now he and she were forging ahead, seeing how things worked out. There was nothing wrong with her. She just seemed kind of . . . young . . . and, well, he wished that Savannah were here. He wanted her to be with Declan, to be at the house. He wanted her to be Declan’s mother in Kristina’s place. But that was never the way it was supposed to be. He was just . . . wishful.
“What?” Hale asked, realizing his grandfather had said something that he’d missed.
“I said, your father was a good man. I’m just sorry Janet never saw that.”
“Yeah.”
Hale’s mind moved to the call he’d received from the medical examiner’s office. They’d done an autopsy on Kristina’s body earlier today. As far as he knew, there had been no surprises. Death was caused by blunt force trauma to the head. Kristina’s body had been sent for cremation, and Hale needed to think about a memorial service. But he wanted to talk to Savannah about that.
“I never wanted her to marry Preston, but he was the right man for her,” Declan was going on.
“We can talk about this later.”
“Sure, sure.?
??
“I’ll be there in about an hour,” Hale said, hanging up.
Declan was thinking about Preston because of the baby’s birth. Hale’s father had been in the back of Hale’s mind, too: how he wouldn’t be able to meet his grandson, how his slow death from liver cancer had robbed him of that chance, how the cancer had come on almost immediately after Janet divorced him. Though separate, those two issues always collided in Hale’s mind: his parents’ divorce and his father’s declining health. Janet had split from Preston St. Cloud when Hale was about eighteen, and she’d met her current husband, Lee Spurrier, whose family was in the banking business in Philadelphia, almost immediately afterward. While Hale was in his first year of college, Janet Bancroft St. Cloud became Janet Bancroft St. Cloud Spurrier and moved to the East Coast. Preston’s health started declining at the same time, and as soon as Hale graduated, though he started working for Declan, he was half taking care of his father at the same time.
Kristina crossed his path at the Bridgeport Bistro one night, at his lowest point. She knew of his grandfather, having grown up around Tillamook, which was just south of his grandfather’s Deception Bay home, and she’d heard about Hale’s father’s illness. She’d been a willing ear and a godsend while Hale juggled all the pieces of his life. He’d been damn near overwhelmed, and Kristina had come into his life at the right time. He’d married her shortly after Preston passed away, only later realizing that he barely knew her.
He watched Victoria heat up a bottle of formula in the microwave. Her hair was long and dark brown, and she wore a skintight T-shirt and skinny jeans.
She sensed him looking at her and turned to give him a bright smile. “He’s a beautiful little boy.”
“Thank you.” Hale hesitated, then asked, “Have you had much experience as a nanny?”
“Oh, it’s all in my profile. The one I gave to your wife. Oh. Sorry. It’s just so weird that she’s gone.”
Hale nodded. “How long can you be here today?”
She blinked at him. “Ummm . . . I thought I was living with you.” A red flush crept up her skin. “I mean, I’m moving here, right?”
“I’m just catching up slowly. Do you have a copy of your profile? And the contract?”
“Sure. It’s in my room.”
She walked down the hall to the spare bedroom across the hall from the nursery. Magda, their cleaning woman, had come in today and had changed all the sheets, crying and crossing her heart as she did her work, saying, “Mrs. St. Cloud said she wanted the beds changed for the baby and maybe some guests. I was going to do it last week . . . but, oh, now . . .” When she trailed off into more tears, Hale had assured her that she was doing what Kristina had wanted and that was a good thing.
