Love to Love You Baby

  * * *

  Cecily hadn’t changed much since the last time Jack had seen her, which was, he thought, Christmas, two years ago. She was still blond, although she did have a red streak in her hair now. She was still small, prettily petite. And she was still wearing those long, flowing dresses that made her look like a great-grandmother in training.

  She saw him as he and Keely entered the large, nearly empty living room, and half ran, half hobbled toward him, her heavy brown clogs scraping the hardwood floor. “Jack! Oh, Jack, don’t you look wonderful! And such a pretty house, except you really ought to think about maybe getting some more furniture,” she exclaimed, then launched herself into his arms.

  “Hello, Cecily,” Jack said, looking past her to a rather tall, thin, ponytailed man of about thirty-five dressed in, it appeared to Jack, a potato sack and wrinkled slacks. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Oh, yes, yes, of course,” Cecily trilled, taking Jack’s hand—ignoring Keely completely—and pulling him across the room. “This is Blue Rainbow, my guru, my mentor.”

  “Hadley Hecuba, actually,” Blue Rainbow said when Cecily skipped away, to go hug Joey, who told her to “Knock it off, you did that already!”

  Hecuba extended a hand so that Jack had to shake it. Well, he didn’t have to, but if he didn’t, Cecily would probably notice, cause a scene, and it just wasn’t worth the hassle.

  “No,” Jack said quietly, dredging his memory for the facts Jimmy’s investigators had dug up in the past few days as his grip tightened on the man’s hand. “It’s Lester James Schmidt, age thirty-seven, born in Milwaukee, arrested twice for embezzlement, once for credit-card fraud, still officially married to Olivia Bertrice Schmidt, who’d love to know where you are because you’re a little tardy with the child-support checks. About five years tardy. How am I doing so far, Lester, old sport?”

  Jack felt Keely squeezing his hand as she half-leaned against him and looked at her, smiled. “Those D&S guys were worth every penny, weren’t they?”

  “I had no idea you knew this much,” Keely told him, obviously impressed. And, unfortunately, Jack decided, still as direct and honest as all hell. “Now tell me what good it does.”

  “None, little lady,” Blue Rainbow said, leering at her. “I saw that fax from your lawyer, Trehan, and we decided to rip it up. She’s the kid’s mother and we’re keeping her. Unless maybe you can persuade us that the kid’s better off with you?” As he said this, he lifted his left hand, rubbed his thumb and two fingers together.

  “Money,” Keely said as Jack all but dragged her away from Cecily’s guru. “Jack, he wants money. It’s so simple. We pay them, and they go away. Oh, thank God, I’ve been so worried.”

  “Keep worrying,” Jack told her as they stood near the hallway, Jack watching Cecily and Joey as his cousins fell into what looked like a whispered argument. “One, if we give them money to go away, they’ll just come back for more money. Not that Cecily needs any, but obviously Lester doesn’t know when he’s got it good—or maybe he’s on his way out and he knows it. Cecily isn’t known for her constant heart. Two, we’ve already got Ms. Peters and the whole child-welfare thing involved here. Maybe I can buy Cecily and Lester off, but that still leaves Joey.”

  Keely sighed. “I want to just go grab Candy and run away with her.”

  “Can I go along?”

  She smiled, laid her head against his chest. “I wouldn’t take so much as a single step without you.”

  “Yes, you would. You’d take lots of steps, actually. All the way to Sadie’s house, which is what I want you to do now. Gather up Ms. Peters, Keely, and bring her back here. Sneak her into the sunroom through the outside door, and then join me again here. I’ll make sure I have the doors to the sunroom open by then, so she gets to hear everything.”

  “What everything?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” Jack admitted, trying not to show his own nervousness. Just be ready to go wherever Cecily and Joey and Lester take us, okay?”

  “Okay.” Keely turned to head down the hallway, then stopped, turned back. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Tell Petra and Sweetness to take Candy for a walk or something. I don’t want her anywhere near here. Cecily hasn’t asked to see her, and if she does, I want to be able to say she isn’t here right now.”

  Keely nodded, then left the room, and Jack followed her, grabbed another soda from the refrigerator. He watched the clock for five minutes to give Keely time to get Ms. Peters into position, then returned to the living room, opened the doors to the sunroom, and walked over to his cousins. “So, Cecily, how was Tibet?”

  “Tibet? Oh, Jack, we didn’t go to Tibet, you silly. We would have, but Blue Rainbow wanted to see the sun rise over Monaco. Told me it was mystical, and it was, it was. I felt such energy there. And Princess Grace was there, you know. I saw her. Oh, she’s dead, but I saw her. Did you know I can do that now? Conjure spirits? I may write a book. I’ve got just the title—Seeing Grace. You get it? Not saying grace, but seeing her. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Cecily was being Cecily—physically here, but her brain floating somewhere in the stratosphere. Just like always. It was as if she worked at it, practiced being flaky. “Monaco, huh?” Jack said once she’d sighed, giggled, and finally shut up. “The place with the casino? I hadn’t heard that, Cecily. I just knew you were somewhere in Europe when my lawyer located you.”

  “Oh, yes. The casino. Blue Rainbow has a system. I was his banker.” Cecily frowned, looked confused. “What’s wrong, Jack? You look all tense. Is something wrong? Blue Rainbow said you’d be so happy to see me, but you don’t look happy at all. And Joey’s being so mean to me....” Her voice faded away and she hiccuped, then went over to the couch and picked up a rather large canvas bag and began fishing in it until her hand emerged, clasping a blue plastic bottle of Fun Bubbles and a plastic stick with a circle at one end of it.

  “What did you say to her, Joey?” Jack asked his cousin, who was in the midst of popping a small square of gum into his mouth.

  “Nuthin’,” he said, sniffing. “I just told her da truth. She’s a flake. Batty. Nutso. So dat means I get the kid, and that means I get alla Uncle Sal’s money from his share of da dry-cleaning business when he croaks. He told me, told me plenty, first one to settle down, get a kid, gets the dough.”

  Cecily, who’d overheard, stepped up to Joey, her angelic face screwed up not all that prettily. “Oh, yeah? Well—hic—that’s what you know, Joey. Uncle Sal said the first one who gets marr—hic—ied and settles down, has a kid, gets his—hic—his money, you big stupid, you. Nobody’d marry you, Joey, you big stupid. I’m the one who’s going to get Uncle Sal’s money.”

  Please God, let Ms. Peters have heard that, Jack prayed silently, then relaxed as Keely reentered the room, nodding toward the open doors to the sunroom.

  The only problem was, Keely wasn’t alone. Tim was with her, and Aunt Sadie and Mort. They had enough for two tables of pinochle, if he had card tables, which he didn’t think he did. And he wasn’t in the mood to play games.

  As Cecily did a mercurial turn from whining to giggling and repeated her launch-herself-into-his-arms greeting to Tim, and Joey went to sit on the couch, obviously to sulk, Jack whispered to Keely, “What, no brass band? Mort would probably be great with any wind instrument.”

  “I couldn’t stop them, Jack,” she told him. “And Mort has an idea.”

  “Oh, no,” Jack said, shaking his head. “God save us from Mort and his ideas.” Then he realized that he didn’t have any ideas. “What is it?”

  “You’ll see,” Keely said, looking at Lester, or Hadley, or Blue Rainbow, or Prisoner Number 55589, or whatever name the guy answered to—and he’d probably answer to Dog Dirt if there was a buck in it for him. “Why don’t you go introduce everyone while I save Aunt Sadie from Cecily, then see how close you can get them to the door.”

  “You don’t want to be introduced to Cecily?”

  Kee
ly’s face went rather stiff. “No, I don’t think so. You’d have to bail me out of jail.”

  “She is Cecily’s mother, Keely,” Jack reminded her.

  “She gave birth to her, Jack. I’m grateful for that, but that’s as far as it goes. Look at her over there, blowing bubbles, for crying out loud. What a twit! Has she even asked to see Candy yet?”

  He shook his head. “No, she hasn’t.”

  Keely’s spine went very straight and she lifted her chin imperiously. “Then I definitely don’t want to talk to her.”

  “You’re tough,” Jack said appreciatively.

  “I’m scared half out of my mind, but don’t tell anybody,” she said, then called to Aunt Sadie to help her in the kitchen, lay out some drinks and snacks for their “company.”

  Tim approached, twirling some sort of beads around his hand.

  “What’s that?” Jack asked, glad to have his brother here, glad to know he’d back him up, no matter what happened.

  “Worry beads,” Tim told him. “Cecily gave them to me. She’s the same old Cecily, isn’t she? Always a few bricks shy of a load. What’s she doing with those bubbles? Are we about to have a love-in or something? Unless she’s doing some weird Lawrence Welk impression, and I kind of doubt that. Oh, and did Keely tell you what Mort’s up to?”

  “She told me to watch and see.”

  “Sounds like a plan. So, are you two getting married? And can I be best man, or referee?”

  “We don’t always fight,” Jack told his brother. “You just caught us at a bad time.”

  “I know. I’m not to blame, am I? I mean, putting that rebound idea into your head?”

  Jack smiled. “No, I got dumb all by myself, actually. What was that quote from Dizzy Dean? Oh yeah, ‘The doctors X–rayed my head and found nothing.’”

  “I’ve got a better one. Tug McGraw: ‘I have no trouble with the twelve inches between my elbow and my palm. It’s the seven inches between my ears that’s bent.’”

  “Bent, scrambled, you name it. But I’m smarter now, and damn lucky. You like her, right?”

  “Hey, bro, you like her; that’s good enough for me. Just don’t think I’m going to follow you down the aisle. This twin stuff goes only so far. Uh-oh, there goes Mort. Come on, this ought to be good.”

  Jack and Tim followed as Mort left Blue Rainbow—and Lord only knew what those two had to talk about—and walked over to Cecily, pulling one of his business cards from his pocket. “Ms. Morretti?” he said, holding out his card. “You don’t know me, but I represent your cousins, Jack and Tim. I’m primarily a sports agent, but I’m branching out, taking on other clients, other venues. I just cast a rather large commercial in Arizona, as a matter of fact. And I have to tell you, you have the most original face and persona I’ve ever seen. I could make you the face of the new millennium. You’re free to travel, aren’t you? Because I have this account in Europe...”

  Cecily blew one more round of bubbles, then leaned forward, squinted at the card, looked up at the agent. “Mortimer Moore?” she said, looking adorably vague. “That’s a funny name.”

  “Says Moon Flower Morretti,” Jack whispered in an aside to his brother, quickly coming up to speed with just what Mort had in mind. He was offering Cecily money, just to see how fast she jumped on it. Money, and a reason to make sure she wasn’t encumbered, like with a baby. Now to hope Cecily said all the right things, with Ms. Peters listening. “Ah, look, here comes the guru. Is his nose twitching? Maybe he’ll be able to explain all of this to Cecily.”

  “Yes, here he comes, and with his tail pointing in the air, like a hound catching a scent,” Tim said, chuckling. “Keely told us, when she came running into Aunt Sadie’s, that she was pretty sure Cecily and her guru were after money, not custody. That’s when Mort had this light bulb sort of go off over his head. Pretty good so far, huh?”

  Mort took Cecily’s arm, deftly steering her toward the open doors of the sunroom, Lester making a U-turn to follow after them.

  “Now, Ms. Morretti,” Mort continued, smooth as butter. “What I’m going to propose is that you sign with me, exclusively, and together we will take the world by storm. I can see your face, that lovely face, thirty feet high, fifty feet wide, on every billboard in New York. Yes, New York, not just Europe. Revlon’s looking for a new face, you know. I had somebody else in mind, but she pales—pales—next to you.”

  “There goes Keely’s other chance at a career,” Jack said quietly as Cecily looked confused, then happy, and then confused again.

  “Oh,” she said, “but I can’t. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

  Jack’s heart hit his toes. Cecily was going to turn Mort down because she wanted Candy. Was here to take back Candy. There was going to be a long, ugly custody battle—the very last thing he wanted for Candy, for Keely.

  “I’m getting married, Mr. Mortimer,” Cecily said then, looking toward Lester. “We’re flying to Vegas tonight, with little Magenta Moon. We’re going to be a family. It’s all settled.”

  Jack, suddenly optimistic once more, cocked an eyebrow at Lester Schmidt. Mort might not have been going here, but they’d arrived at a very hopeful place anyway. “Nice work if you can get it, Blue Rainbow,” Jack, said quickly, and rather loudly. “Don’t you think you might need a divorce first?”

  Cecily’s blue eyes went very wide. “A div... a div—hic—vorce?”

  “Here we go,” Tim said, backing up a step. “Open the floodgates.”

  “Now, Cecily,” Lester said quickly as Cecily’s face crumpled up like a paper bag. “I was going to tell you.”

  “Get out!” Cecily shrieked, pointing toward the door. “Get out, get out, get out! First you want me to make Jack pay—hic—pay for Magenta Moon... and then you lie to me? You’re married? You said you loved me. Go away! I never wa—hic—ant to see you again. Ever!”

  “Uh-oh, Tim. I thought we were home free for a minute there, but I don’t like where this is going all of a sudden. Is she really going to dump him, try to keep Candy?” Jack asked his brother as Keely came back into the room, carrying a tray filled with a plate of cookies and some cups, and a pitcher of iced tea.

  “Oh, knock it off, Cecily,” Lester shot back at her, clearly a man who knows he’s lost but isn’t about to go down on his own. “Just cut the bull, because it’s making me sick. You know I’m still married, so don’t use that to try to cut me out of the deal. You know a whole lot more than that dippy–little–me crap you try out on everyone. These stupid clothes, these stupid names you gave us. Blowing bubbles. Do you really think these people are dumb enough to buy any of this crap? Why don’t you blow those bubbles out your—”

  “Zipper it, Lester, you jackass!” Cecily snapped, and Jack looked at Keely, stunned. This was his cousin? No crying? No hiccups? No Betty Boop voice rising in hysterics? Who stole his cousin when he wasn’t looking and replaced her with this steely-eyed, rough–voiced stranger? And what the hell was Lester talking about? Cecily wasn’t putting on an act. Unless she’d always been putting on an act.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Jack said quietly.

  “Okay, it’s family now, and I’m getting uncomfortable. I’ll see you later, everybody. I’ll be at Sadie’s until the smoke clears.” Mort, his job done—or half done, before Lester and Cecily began ignoring him—then left the room, snatching up a cookie as he went.

  “He hates scenes,” Tim said, jerking a thumb at Mort’s departing back. “That’s why he invited me here today. As backup, if you go nuts over his latest idea for you.”

  “Shut up, Tim,” Jack said, barely hearing him, because he was fascinated with Cecily, still working out the details of the revelation that had hit him. This look had come over Cecily’s face. Wise. Crafty. Still petite and blond and beautiful, but now more closely resembling Joey, who always looked like he had a plan—never a good one, but a plan.

  “It was all her idea,” Lester was all but whining, appealing to Jack. “She dumped the kid on you
because she doesn’t want it, never did, and said you were such a sap, you’d just take her, get her out of her hair. The kid cramped her style. But you didn’t know that, and she saw her chance when that lawyer contacted her about giving up the kid. First we were going to make you pay so she’d sign away custody, but then she decided she’d probably get more money from her Uncle Sal when he kicks off if she could show up with a kid and a husband in tow. I said take the money and run, that this Sal guy could live another twenty years, but she wouldn’t listen. She doesn’t want the kid. She wants the money. She went through about a million bucks in Monaco.”

  “I said, zipper it!” Cecily screeched, racing at Lester, beating her small fists against his chest.