could be drawing all kinds of conclusions from this conversation, and Kassandra knew she had to nip them in the bud. “Mr. Cayne just wasn’t expecting me to bring Candy along,” Kassandra explained. “At the last minute, I decided I didn’t want to miss Candy’s first Christmas. He wasn’t angry. We were both simply stressed out from the trip. Not only does Candy have more luggage than six adults, but she cried for most of the plane ride. Candy’s not the most wonderful traveling companion,” Kassandra added as she walked out of the bathroom.
“Nonsense,” the old woman said. “I think she’s perfect. Why, look at her,” she said, smoothing her gnarled fingers along Candy’s feathery hair. “She’s adorable.”
“Yeah, I think so,” Kassandra agreed, gazing at Candy’s rosy cheeks and velvety skin. Her hair had been matted into little tufts, and the spot right beside her ear held the imprint of Kassandra’s coat button, but in spite of that Candy managed to look beautiful. “It is hard to believe Mr. Cayne doesn’t find her as adorable as we do.”
The maid looked at Kassandra quizzically. “Do you always call him Mr. Cayne?”
“Not really,” Kassandra answered, unwittingly thinking of the hundreds of things she’d called him in the past year, particularly the things she’d called him when he woke Candy with one of his parties. “I’m only trying to be respectful.”
“Well, the hell with that,” the maid said with a cackle. “You can be honest with me.”
Not thinking that a very wise idea, Kassandra glanced at the linens. “Were you going to change the bed?”
“Yeah, but you beat me up here,” the maid said, still gazing at Candy who was sleeping soundly. “And now one of us is going to have to hold the little one while the other one works.”
“Fair enough,” Kassandra agreed, glad to be off the subject of Gabe Cayne. “You hold Candy,” she said, motioning the old woman to the rocker by the bay window. “And I’ll change the bed.”
“I like the way you think,” the old woman said, her eyes shining. “I could use a few minutes off my feet.”
Kassandra was half tempted to ask the poor thing how long she’d been working for the Caynes and how much longer she’d have to work before she could retire, but she thought the better of that one, too.
“Why don’t you tell me where you’re from while Gabe’s out getting your bags?”
Bags wasn’t the half of it. There was an odd assortment of baby things too numerous to mention. She didn’t want to think about that any more than she wanted to carry on a personal conversation with a member of the staff, but at this moment the conversation was the lesser of two evils. Besides, the question itself was harmless.
“Pennsylvania.”
“You work with Gabe?”
“Not really. Actually, I live in his apartment building.”
“I see,” the maid said quietly.
Kassandra shook her head. “No, I don’t think you do. I didn’t start dating him because his company owns the building I live in. I started seeing him because he wanted to see me,” she said, realizing how easily a story could be created by using the actual facts. “Things just sort of fell into place after that,” she added, deciding that this really was simple. Easy enough that they could pull this off—even with Candy—if Gabe would just loosen up enough to give her a few minutes to prime him for his part.
“No kidding,” the maid said, genuinely impressed, then she cackled. “To tell you the truth, I’m surprised the old scrooge brought you with him. He never brings his girlfriends down here. From what I hear, he’s ashamed of them. In fact, I’m real surprised he’s dating a woman who not only has a brain in her head, she also has enough class to give an old woman a break by making her own bed.”
Wide eyed, Kassandra gaped at her. “You shouldn’t be talking about him like that.”
The maid batted her hands again. “Oh, hell, when something’s true I think everybody’s got a right to say it. Gabe’s a chauvinist,” the old woman added candidly. “After seeing one or two of his girlfriends, even you would have to admit he’s a chauvinist.”
Not wanting to touch this conversation with a ten-foot pole, Kassandra frowned.
The maid gave her a crafty look. “You’ve seen some of the women he’s dated, haven’t you?”
Kassandra couldn’t help it, she winced.
“Awful, weren’t they?”
“No, not awful,” Kassandra began, scrambling to think of something positive to say about Gabe to counteract her wince, but she stopped herself. The woman just admitted Gabe never brought a girlfriend to Georgia before. Kassandra was the first. So, the maid couldn’t know about Gabe’s girlfriends.
Just as quickly as Kassandra reasoned that out, she also realized Gabe’s grandmother would know about his girlfriends, if only because of visits to Pennsylvania. She slumped on the bed. “Oh, God.”
As she said the last, the bedroom door swung open. “Judas H. Priest,” Gabe said, puffing as he dragged the playpen and swing into the room. “I’m surprised you didn’t roll up her bedroom carpeting and bring it along.”
He looked at Kassandra and then looked past her and saw his grandmother sitting on the rocker by the window, holding sleeping Candy. “Grandma!”
“Don’t you grandma me,” The woman said as she motioned for Kassandra to take the baby. “You have about four hours of explaining to do, young man,” she added, hoisting herself out of her chair. “What kind of man gets angry with his girlfriend because she doesn’t want to miss her baby’s first Christmas?”
Taken aback, Gabe glanced at Kassandra. Her eyes had widened, and her face had frozen into a look that said quite clearly she’d fallen for one of his grandmother’s traps. Seeing this, Gabe smiled. Two could play this game.
“I wasn’t angry that she wanted to spend Candy’s first Christmas with her,” Gabe explained. “I just didn’t want to spoil your holiday by having a baby around when we’re not used to children.”
Before Gabe realized what she was about to do, his grandmother swatted him across the back of his knees with her cane. “Poppycock. Don’t try to fool the master. I see what’s going on here.. If I hadn’t already realized you gave poor Kassandra a hard time about bringing Candy, I would have known it when I saw you bring Candy’s gear in.”
She drew a long, life-sustaining breath, and in that second Gave remembered that this woman who talked a good game was in the final minutes of her final quarter. The whole purpose of this visit was to spend some time with his grandmother before she died. And happy time. The purpose was not to argue or antagonize her. Or beat her at her own game.
“Apologize,” she said simply.
Without hesitation or qualm, Gabe turned to Kassandra. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, and suddenly realized he meant it. Not only had his silent treatment been unfair, but the child sleeping in Kassandra’s arms wasn’t all that bad. A little noisy, maybe, he thought, remembering the plane ride down, but not bad. “I yelled before I thought,”
