morning, but he smiled with her laugh, and she let herself relax a bit more. “Is that the only reason you’re picking me up this morning, because I might not want to drive myself home later?”
“Granger did mention he thought you might like someone absolutely normal around today. And I can do a really good bad-cop routine when the occasion demands it if the reporters should happen to get pushy.”
He opened the door to the deli. “Peter’s the guy in the red jacket. He likes to stand out in a crowd.”
The man in the red jacket stepped away from the counter carrying a tray. “I’m not hard of hearing yet, Connor, stand out in a crowd indeed. I had them put skim milk in yours; you’ve been gaining weight again.”
Marie met a man close to being her grandfather’s age as he handed the cop with her the second coffee on the tray. “For you, Marie, I got hot chocolate. Even if you don’t want to drink it, holding something warm will mean he can’t go reaching for your hand like a young courting man.”
She bubbled in laughter because he winked at her.
“I built that building you’re now occupying, laid a good number of those bricks when my hands were still too soft to have calluses. I figure I can fix it up for you while you’re off being questioned by those reporters. Anything you want to add to the boy’s list?”
She swallowed hard at the thought of Connor as a boy but gamely bobbed her head. “It’s a good starting list, and you can feel free to add whatever else you think he has missed to it.”
“Good answer.”
Connor held out her key ring. “I do, however, like the doorbell.”
“Old screech? Sure, I thought you might. I put that in for the grandkids that used to spend their Saturdays pushing the button and darting away down the sidewalk. Now get going before you’re late, and drive her nice, Connor. No sirens and speed just because you’ve got the toys.”
Connor leaned over and kissed the man’s cheek. “Yeah. Bye, Gramps. She’ll be back sometime this afternoon.”
Marie kept her hands firmly around the cup of hot chocolate and didn’t try to come up with a good-bye as Connor steered her out of the deli. “That’s your grandfather?” she whispered.
“On my mother’s side—when he claims me.”
“I like him.”
Connor grinned at her. “So now you’ve met two people who aren’t going to care that you are rich. Think you’ll meet a few more today?”
“Probably not.”
“Then I’m in exclusive company. I like that, and Gramps is too old to do much more than flirt.”
She laughed so hard she nearly bobbled her hot chocolate. “Thank you, Connor.”
“Nerves gone?”
“Entirely.”
He nodded, satisfied. “We aim to please. The car’s over this way.”
“Do you plan to challenge the will and the fact more was left to a nephew than his own daughters?”
Marie struggled against the lights to know which direction she should face to answer that question. The reporter who asked it had already shot four zingers her way, and she could feel the anger turning her stomach into knots. “No, the will provisions are fine. Next question?”
“Will the charity work you spoke about be concentrated in this community?”
“We’ll coordinate with the already generous giving Daniel has announced and see what else we might do together, mainly in the area of literacy and the arts for youth.” She smiled at the reporter she could see off to the right of the bright lights. “Yes, your question?”
“What’s the T stand for? Your middle name?”
“I could say my mother never told me, and I think I wisely never asked; but I’ll simply say it’s not worth repeating.”
Low laughter told her she’d at least made one clean answer. “Yes?” She nodded to the man beside Daniel.
“Would you characterize your reaction as grateful, stunned, surprised? How’s it feel to be told you have a rich father?”
“I already have a very rich father in God; this just closes a
“Granger did mention he thought you might like someone absolutely normal around today. And I can do a really good bad-cop routine when the occasion demands it if the reporters should happen to get pushy.”
He opened the door to the deli. “Peter’s the guy in the red jacket. He likes to stand out in a crowd.”
The man in the red jacket stepped away from the counter carrying a tray. “I’m not hard of hearing yet, Connor, stand out in a crowd indeed. I had them put skim milk in yours; you’ve been gaining weight again.”
Marie met a man close to being her grandfather’s age as he handed the cop with her the second coffee on the tray. “For you, Marie, I got hot chocolate. Even if you don’t want to drink it, holding something warm will mean he can’t go reaching for your hand like a young courting man.”
She bubbled in laughter because he winked at her.
“I built that building you’re now occupying, laid a good number of those bricks when my hands were still too soft to have calluses. I figure I can fix it up for you while you’re off being questioned by those reporters. Anything you want to add to the boy’s list?”
She swallowed hard at the thought of Connor as a boy but gamely bobbed her head. “It’s a good starting list, and you can feel free to add whatever else you think he has missed to it.”
“Good answer.”
Connor held out her key ring. “I do, however, like the doorbell.”
“Old screech? Sure, I thought you might. I put that in for the grandkids that used to spend their Saturdays pushing the button and darting away down the sidewalk. Now get going before you’re late, and drive her nice, Connor. No sirens and speed just because you’ve got the toys.”
Connor leaned over and kissed the man’s cheek. “Yeah. Bye, Gramps. She’ll be back sometime this afternoon.”
Marie kept her hands firmly around the cup of hot chocolate and didn’t try to come up with a good-bye as Connor steered her out of the deli. “That’s your grandfather?” she whispered.
“On my mother’s side—when he claims me.”
“I like him.”
Connor grinned at her. “So now you’ve met two people who aren’t going to care that you are rich. Think you’ll meet a few more today?”
“Probably not.”
“Then I’m in exclusive company. I like that, and Gramps is too old to do much more than flirt.”
She laughed so hard she nearly bobbled her hot chocolate. “Thank you, Connor.”
“Nerves gone?”
“Entirely.”
He nodded, satisfied. “We aim to please. The car’s over this way.”
“Do you plan to challenge the will and the fact more was left to a nephew than his own daughters?”
Marie struggled against the lights to know which direction she should face to answer that question. The reporter who asked it had already shot four zingers her way, and she could feel the anger turning her stomach into knots. “No, the will provisions are fine. Next question?”
“Will the charity work you spoke about be concentrated in this community?”
“We’ll coordinate with the already generous giving Daniel has announced and see what else we might do together, mainly in the area of literacy and the arts for youth.” She smiled at the reporter she could see off to the right of the bright lights. “Yes, your question?”
“What’s the T stand for? Your middle name?”
“I could say my mother never told me, and I think I wisely never asked; but I’ll simply say it’s not worth repeating.”
Low laughter told her she’d at least made one clean answer. “Yes?” She nodded to the man beside Daniel.
“Would you characterize your reaction as grateful, stunned, surprised? How’s it feel to be told you have a rich father?”
“I already have a very rich father in God; this just closes a
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