Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele
Part 3: House of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Chapter Eleven: Cribs
Monday, 3 October 1988 -- 27 weeks, 4 days
As Laura drove to the agency after dropping off Siobhán at school on Monday, she realized that the short
vacation had clarified two issues for her.
First, she had very much enjoyed her time with Remington and Siobhán. Ireland hadn’t been the idyllic
vacation she and Remington had planned, and the months since had held their own share of difficulties.
The trip to Catalina was truly the first time since that they’d taken the time to relax. Having Siobhán
along now seemed only natural. The three of them had enjoyed a wonderful time together.
The suite that Remington had booked in Catalina gave them privacy without making Siobhán feel
uncomfortable or alone. Laura reflected again that Remington didn’t seem to mind confining their
dalliances to the bedroom. After the wanton nature of their first two years of marriage, she’d been a little
concerned that he would come to resent Siobhán’s constant presence.
But true to his nature, he’d only viewed it as a challenge of a different sort, and she realized she should
have expected it. Laura rediscovered his knack for knowing exactly where to lay his fingers or a chaste
kiss to elicit a rush of desire from her. She still wasn’t quite sure how he did it. Last night as she dried
the dishes, he merely grazed the back of her neck with warm lips, chasing it with a single finger across
the moistened skin. Her quick inhalation told him all he needed to know, and he’d sauntered out of the
kitchen with a gleam and a wink. Siobhán missed the entire exchange from her place at the island where
she fretted over her government paper.
The ensuing evening had been … memorable. Shaking her head, she knew she had to wipe the silly
blush off her face before opening the office door or Mildred, and probably Ian, would have her pegged in
seconds.
She sobered as she thought of the agency. She hadn’t talked to Remington about her concerns yet, but
the trip had clarified those issues too for her. Blowing out her breath, she wondered how to make light of
the changes that were coming. This would be her last month for working outside the office for a while.
By seven months, her doctor insisted she give up the legwork. Laura still thought it was overprotective,
but she’d seen the relief in Remington’s face when he heard the doctor’s orders, and she’d found it
impossible to argue. In two days, she would take on her last undercover assignment. She would continue
to meet with clients in the office and selected ones out of the office, but the other detectives would pick
up the investigations after she culled the initial information from the client.
Perhaps as a holdover from the early days of the agency, where she'd had to scrape up every last penny
to make sure the bills were paid, Laura found it difficult to turn away clients even when their books were
full. These days, it wasn’t unusual for a new client to have to wait a day or two before meeting with
Laura. She wondered how much business they would lose while she worked an abbreviated schedule.
Fretting over it, she pulled the car into the garage and headed up to the agency.
The case they'd taken on bordered more on boring than interesting. Laura was posing as a temporary
secretary beginning on a Thursday. That day, Friday and Monday, she'd generated a mound of letters
and filed papers in addition to answering the telephone. Most of the time, this kind of undercover work
didn’t bother her; she used her free moments to read proprietary manuals and study up on the latest
technologies of whatever industry she was investigating.
By Tuesday though, she'd decided her obstetrician was kidding herself if she thought Laura was going to
do little more than hang out in the office for the next two and half months. Her back ached from sitting
in a chair all day; her swollen feet hardly fit into her shoes; and the baby kicked until she got up and
moved around.
Fortunately for her sanity, on Wednesday morning the employee in question--her “boss” at the moment--
took a suspicious phone call. The caller was one of the names Laura had memorized as being a
competitor to this firm. As soon as her temporary boss left the office, Laura called Kaleb on the Rabbit’s
car phone. He’d been parked outside the building since Thursday, twiddling his thumbs and working
crosswords in sheer boredom. Happy to have something to do, he tailed the suspect to the meeting and
began snapping photos on the sly.
Carter called both Remington and Laura with the news in carefully coded wording before having the
photos developed. Just after three in the afternoon, Remington arrived with their client, photos in hand.
Laura’s “boss” protested heartily at the accusations until he saw the pictures. Not a stupid man, it didn’t
take him long to put two and two together to realize that Laura was the undercover operator. In his fury,
he lunged toward her desk, but Remington neatly tripped him up and forced him to the ground while
Laura danced back, well away from the action.
What started as an internal civil issue to the company became a criminal charge with that move. The
police were called to escort Laura’s “boss” to jail.
Remington said nothing about the incident itself, but that night he pulled her into his lap on the couch to
hold her for the longest time.
Siobhán spent the following weekend decorating her new bedroom and bathroom in a snazzy black and
white motif punched up by electric blue and shocking pink accents. She filled the walls with posters of
her favorite bands. Books and magazines covered the new white desk.
On that windy Sunday afternoon in late October, while Remington moved the last of Siobhán’s things
into her new room, Frances brought her two girls along while she and Laura decided on how to decorate
the nursery. Mindy and Laurie Beth sprawled out on the floor of Siobhán’s bedroom flipping through
teen magazines, eating more of Unca Remy’s cookies while something by U2 thumped on the new CD
player.
Laura and Frances wandered through the new rooms. Frances admired the workout space and playroom
as her sister explained what still had to be done in the renovation. “The demolition of the bathroom is
almost done, and the flooring in the main part of the apartment hasn’t been started yet. Otherwise, it’s
nearly complete. I really want it all to be done by Thanksgiving,” Laura said in a loud voice as her
husband tried to slip into the old guest room unnoticed. Remington visibly ducked as he heard her
comment.
“But you still have to decorate the baby’s room,” Frances said as they surveyed the plain white walls of
the nursery-to-be. “I still can’t believe you are waiting to find out what you’re having. How can you
stand it? Even I had to know so that I could get everything ready.”
Ignoring her, Laura idly paged through a book of decorating ideas. “What do you think of this?” She
held up the book.
Her sister pushed it down. “Laura!”
Laura grinned. “Not knowing is driving Remington crazy.” In reality, she was just as eager to know if
they were having a boy or a girl, but keeping her partner on the edge of his seat was nearly as satisfying
as knowing. “Besides, it’s keeping him guessing on names. As long as we don’t know, he can’t settle on
any one thing.”
“You mean you two don’t have names picked out either?” Astonished, Frances wondered where her
control-freak sister had gone.
Laura shook her head. “Not yet.”
Throwing her hands in the air, Frances yanked the book out of her sister’s hands. “No names, no sex,
no nursery, and you’re due in ten weeks. What are you looking--oh, Laura, that’s adorable!” she
squealed. “A circus theme. That’s perfect for you two. You’ve always loved the circus, and didn’t
Remington tell me he worked in one for a while?”
“As a fire breather. Okay, Frances, how do we do this?”
“Well, we’ll start with circus colors--red, white and yellow for your base colors. Since you have the
white, we’ll just add wide red stripes maybe? Or a whole accent wall? Do you have a measuring tape?”
Laura listened as her sister eagerly demonstrated how the paint, rugs and curtains should look. When
Remington popped his head around the corner, he found Laura writing notes in the margins of the book
with a pencil.
“Oh, we need to go get paint chips. And we need to pick out furniture--white furniture to go with the
theme. And you’ll need to pick out bedding.” Frances’ head was already buzzing with ideas for the
surprise baby shower she and Kate were planning for Thanksgiving week.
Remington leaned against the door frame as he overheard their conversation. “Ah, paint? Did you
actually get Laura to pick out paint? What are we doing in here?”
Laura handed him the book, and he pondered it for a while. When the silence stretched too long, she
asked, “What do you think?”
With a little flick of his eyebrows, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be back.” Laura raised her hands
in confusion at Frances’ quizzical expression. She went back to making a list of things her sister insisted
she had to have. A few minutes later, Remington returned with the fantastic musical carousel that had
been given to them years ago for solving a case. Practicing trapeze work and flying through the air with
Laura in those days was one of his favorite memories.
He set it on the floor, and Frances touched it gingerly to start the music. As twinkling sounds filled the
unfinished room, Remington borrowed Laura’s pencil and began sketching broad outlines directly on the
walls. The sisters watched--Frances in amazement and Laura in delight--as comical elephants began
trampling through the room, topped by silly clowns dancing on their backs. In one corner, tigers stacked
vertically on top of each other. Little monkeys climbed up a ladder in another.
Stepping back, he added, “I can put in a couple of trapeze artists if you’d like?”
Amused at the scheme he’d created, Laura quipped, “If you have time, you mean? You’re going to paint
all this before Thanksgiving?”
“Of course not, Laura. That’s why we hired Juan and his crew. If I sketch it, he’s got a nephew who
can paint it.”
“Of course,” she echoed.
Days later, red stripes graced the walls, and those little creatures came alive to romp around the nursery
waiting for its new tenant.
“Slide that big one into place,” Laura murmured.
“Like this?”
“Oh, yeah, just like that,” she said with a slight groan.
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“Just give it a shove. Ouch!”
“Sorry, love. I thought you wanted it there.”
“I do, I do … I just wasn’t ready.”
“Laura, how are we supposed to build this crib if you can’t hold up your end?”
Glaring at him, she rubbed her elbow where it had banged into the wall. “Fine. You try turning that
miniscule hex wrench with your hand jammed between the slats.”
He eyed her position on the ground and decided it would be too hard to change places with her. “Let’s
try it again.”
This time, the railing sat squarely on the screw. Laura twirled the tiny wrench to tighten it down. She
sat against the wall with a sigh of relief. Now she only had to support the one end while Remington
made short work of assembling the rest of the crib.
“Care to do the honors?” he asked as he waved to the side rail just begging to be dropped down.
Her eyes lit up. She took his hands, and he groaned comically as he pulled her up. Snatching a pillow
from the pile of fabric on the chair, she swatted him. “I’m not THAT huge.”
He looked her up and down, musing, “Hmm, Murphy told me the answer to this question. No, of course
not, love.”
Letting out an exclamation of frustration, she pretended to throttle him, but he neatly stepped into her
embrace so he could brush her lips with his. As her belly pressed hard against his stomach, he could feel
the baby kicking in protest. The thrill of it skittered into his heart, making it dance. “You’re beautiful,
Laura. Lovely.”
“Stop charming me,” she retorted as she melted into him.
“Ah, but it’s one of the very things you adore about me. ... No, don’t hide your smile. I saw that.” He
caressed her cheek with a thumb.
“I seem to be shaking my head at you a great deal lately.”
“Only because you know I’m right.” He landed another kiss on her lips before she turned away to play
with the crib railing.
“Nice job, Mr. Steele.”
“Well, you see, I have this very able-bodied associate.”
“Associate?” she chided.
“Partner,” he corrected.
Laura reached for the mattress, but he beat her to it and lifted it over the side of the crib. Together they
arranged the sheet and bumper pads. She hung the blanket on the rail while Remington assembled the
mobile and attached it to the crib. When they were done, little monkeys, giraffes and elephants rioted
across the bedding.
Remington felt a smidgen of guilt over assembling the nursery at the agency without Siobhán, but she’d
wanted to spend the weekend at Ms. Mildred’s and didn’t seem to mind. Earlier that week, two of
Juan’s men appeared at the agency to tint the walls of the safe room a hazy yellow. Since then, Laura
had talked only of getting the little room converted for the baby.
Unconsciously, he chewed on his thumbnail while Laura sorted through old circus posters she’d found in
an antique shop. Alone with Laura, he thought this might be a good chance to ask her a few tough
questions. He’d noticed in the past few weeks that she danced around certain topics. Fully expecting
careful sidestepping with friends and family, he’d been surprised when she’d done the same with him.
Taking care to start off on the right foot and with an easy question, he called her name, “Laura?”
“Hmm?”
“What was so special about this weekend that you wanted to get this nursery done so quickly?”
Pursing her lips, she tilted her head to the side. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because my sisters and
Mother have something up their sleeves about a baby shower. I’m sure they’ll have our nursery at home
outfitted by the time they are done. I wanted this for us.”
He grinned. “And you wanted it first.” Never say she misses a trick.
She copied his expression and handed him a nail. “Rei, you know me entirely too well. Besides, this
agency is … ours.”
Catching the hesitation on the last word, he chased it with his first tough question while hammering the
nail where she indicated. “Laura, why do I get the feeling that the agency is still more of a home to you
than the penthouse?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the faint irritation cross her face and the way she drew in her breath
to retort … then slowly let it out. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it that way. It’s not more of a
home but maybe as much of one.”
Surprised by her outright admission, he stated, “A great deal of your identity is wrapped up in the
agency.”
“True,” she answered without thinking, then realized what she’d said. “It is true. Now why does that
surprise me? And why does it occur to me that your identity has nothing to do with the agency?”
Really, Laura? Six years and you’ve just figured that out? “Because without the agency, I’d survive.”
Thoughtfully lowering herself into the rocking chair, she leaned back and scratched her belly. “That’s
twice you’ve brought up something along those lines. What’s on your mind, Rei?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, leaning against the wall as he sorted through his words to find ones that
wouldn’t needle his wife. He had her full attention and needed to be careful. Most of the time their
retorts and ripostes were strictly a game they played, but the habit could--and had, at times--turn into
bitter arguments. He didn’t want that now and knew he had to tread carefully in this conversation.
“I worry, Laura. I worry that when you find yourself torn between your child and the agency, you’ll be
angry with yourself, regardless of what choice you make. In a way, the agency is your first baby.
You’ve nurtured it and cared for it all these years.”
“But it can’t come first anymore; is that what you are trying to say?”
He knew he walked a thin line here. “Actually, no. I understand that the agency provides our living,
Laura. We can’t simply abandon it now that we have family.” He touched the picture he’d hung to
move it a fraction to the left.
“We haven’t seemed to have any difficulties with Siobhán,” she offered.
“No, but Siobhán has spent quite a few afternoons and evenings at the office or alone at home while we
work a case. More than I like,” he admitted.
Laura crossed her arms. “You’re exaggerating. She’s had a handful of afternoons after school, which
isn’t unreasonable for a fifteen-year-old, and the occasional evening in the office isn’t going to scar her
for life. Most of the time she does homework at my desk anyway.” She paused and eyed him
thoughtfully. “Remington, I understand that our lives are about to be very different. Having Siobhán
with us has made that point crystal clear.”
Still unsatisfied with her answers, he touched his lips before asking again. She’d been silent on the
subject of working for too long. “How are we to make this work, Laura? We haven’t even discussed
how long you’re planning to stay home.”
She eyeballed him suspiciously but answered. “I’m planning to be gone for the whole of January. I’ve
blocked out both of our calendars with Ian. I’m anticipating that we’ll get the occasional call that one of
us will have to handle. Quite frankly, I think it’s going to land on you to deal with them. After January,
or when I can’t stand it anymore--and your guess is as good as mine as to how soon that will happen--I’ll
pack up our newest Steele and bring him or her to the office.”
He nodded in agreement; that answer was more than he’d expected. “What about after that?” he asked,
pressing hard.
Laura raised her eyebrows. “I suppose … I thought I could work during the baby’s naps. Maybe I can’t
put in the hours I do now, but I should be able to do a decent amount. I … for a while I’ll be doing more
of what I’m doing now: case work from the office. I might be able to do some fieldwork, but I don’t
know how much.”
“And what about me?” There’s the hard one, love.
She frowned. “What about you?”
“What’s my role going to be?”
He could see her thinking carefully about her response and tried not to hold his breath in anticipation. At
last she asked, “What do you want it to be?”
Right on target. “Ah, that’s the question I’ve been waiting to hear.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Laura, you don’t have to raise our child and run the agency by yourself. I’ve had the feeling lately that
you’ve forgotten that you have me to help you with both. I plan to change my fair share of diapers--
though I may regret saying that--and while I may not have your management skills, I’ll do in a pinch.”
“But I just said that I fully expected you to pick up the slack while I was out,” she responded with a
furrowed brow.
“Love, I need you to understand that I’ll be there as both a parent and a partner at the office too.” He
tried to be solicitous but she wasn’t having any of it.
Struggling to get out of the chair, she waved off his proffered hand. As she got to her feet, she snapped
back. “Stop patronizing me, Rei. I wouldn’t be pregnant if I didn’t think you were willing to do your
share--both at home and the office. If you want to solve a problem that annoys the hell out of me, figure
out how we can go back to solving cases together without handing our baby over to someone else during
the day. I didn’t build my own business so that someone else could raise my children. But--” She put
the heel of her hand on her forehead.
He saw her face crumple before she turned away to finger the baby blanket on the crib. As the silence
stretched, he eased behind her to lay his chin on her shoulder. He rubbed her arms for a moment before
holding her in his embrace. He’d wondered when this was going to come out. He’d seen her struggling
with her own restrictions these past two weeks.
When she partially turned in his arms, her dry face belied the sadness in her eyes. “I miss taking on the
tough cases with you. I don’t like being sent home the moment a case gets interesting.” He started to
protest, but she stopped him, saying, “I understand it. I know better than anyone how quickly a day can
go from excruciatingly routine to dodging bullets without any notice. I don’t like stepping back, but I
wouldn’t change anything right now. You’ve been very quiet on the issue, which I appreciate, but we
both know that the situation at the software company could have turned out very differently if you hadn’t
been there. For now, this is simply the way it has to be.”
He waited her out, knowing there was more.
“I’m jealous. Terribly jealous watching you and everyone else do my job. I already feel as if I’m losing
a part of myself. I don’t recognize me anymore. I’m not ‘Laura Steele, private investigator’; I’m ‘Laura
Steele, gestating detective stuck in an office all day.’ ”
He looked away quickly to hide his twitching lips, but it was too late.
“Stop laughing at me. It’s not funny.” She glowered at him.
“I’m not laughing. I’m deciding what to paint on the ceiling.” He clutched her shoulders when she
moved to pull away. “Laura, love, you own this agency. Which means you, and only you, decide what
you will do here. And it’s not forever.”
She leaned back in his arms. “No, we own this agency. We built it together, Remington Steele. I might
have started it, but it would never have become what it is today without you. Which means you have
just as much of a say in it as I do.” There was a long pause before she said, “Sometimes I wish--” She
stopped again.
“Wish what?” But she shook her head and wouldn’t continue.
Remington sighed. Sometimes in her quest to be a strong woman, Laura still tamped her emotions down
instead of working through them, despite the trust they’d built between them. But he had an idea of
where she might be going with this. “Laura, I miss having you with me.”
“Do you?” she breathed.
“Of course I do, love. The whole reason I’m in this thing is because of you.” He drew his eyebrows
together. “That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? That you won’t be needed when it’s time for you to
come back. That I’ll get used to working with someone else and won’t want to have you as a partner
anymore. Am I right?”
This time tears did fill her eyes, and she rested against him. “Rei … I--yes,” she admitted.
Concealing his frustration at her periodic streaks of insecurity, he held her to him. “Laura, I’m not
interested in a new partner. I like what I do. Kaleb fills in admirably, but he’s not you.” She looked up
then. “Who would Nick be without Nora? If I have a choice of partners, I’d much prefer a lovely
brunette with a smart mouth and an attitude. You’re a damned sight prettier than Carter. I assure you
that if I have to wiggle through an air vent, I’d rather be looking at your assets than anyone else’s.”
Gratified to see a glimmer of a smile, he hugged her again.
Grateful maple eyes blinked back the wet and cleared. “I don’t think I can do that at the moment.”
“No?” He touched her swollen stomach. “Perhaps not at the moment, but soon enough, love. One step
at a time, Laura.”
Her confidence back in place, she nodded and eased away, but not before laying a hand on his cheek.
“Will you hand me a nail?”
Dropping a kiss into her palm, he answered, “Of course.”
5 November 2009
Chapter Twelve: Clues
Monday, 3 October 1988 -- 27 weeks, 4 days
As Laura drove to the agency after dropping off Siobhán at school on Monday, she realized that the short
vacation had clarified two issues for her.
First, she had very much enjoyed her time with Remington and Siobhán. Ireland hadn’t been the idyllic
vacation she and Remington had planned, and the months since had held their own share of difficulties.
The trip to Catalina was truly the first time since that they’d taken the time to relax. Having Siobhán
along now seemed only natural. The three of them had enjoyed a wonderful time together.
The suite that Remington had booked in Catalina gave them privacy without making Siobhán feel
uncomfortable or alone. Laura reflected again that Remington didn’t seem to mind confining their
dalliances to the bedroom. After the wanton nature of their first two years of marriage, she’d been a little
concerned that he would come to resent Siobhán’s constant presence.
But true to his nature, he’d only viewed it as a challenge of a different sort, and she realized she should
have expected it. Laura rediscovered his knack for knowing exactly where to lay his fingers or a chaste
kiss to elicit a rush of desire from her. She still wasn’t quite sure how he did it. Last night as she dried
the dishes, he merely grazed the back of her neck with warm lips, chasing it with a single finger across
the moistened skin. Her quick inhalation told him all he needed to know, and he’d sauntered out of the
kitchen with a gleam and a wink. Siobhán missed the entire exchange from her place at the island where
she fretted over her government paper.
The ensuing evening had been … memorable. Shaking her head, she knew she had to wipe the silly
blush off her face before opening the office door or Mildred, and probably Ian, would have her pegged in
seconds.
She sobered as she thought of the agency. She hadn’t talked to Remington about her concerns yet, but
the trip had clarified those issues too for her. Blowing out her breath, she wondered how to make light of
the changes that were coming. This would be her last month for working outside the office for a while.
By seven months, her doctor insisted she give up the legwork. Laura still thought it was overprotective,
but she’d seen the relief in Remington’s face when he heard the doctor’s orders, and she’d found it
impossible to argue. In two days, she would take on her last undercover assignment. She would continue
to meet with clients in the office and selected ones out of the office, but the other detectives would pick
up the investigations after she culled the initial information from the client.
Perhaps as a holdover from the early days of the agency, where she'd had to scrape up every last penny
to make sure the bills were paid, Laura found it difficult to turn away clients even when their books were
full. These days, it wasn’t unusual for a new client to have to wait a day or two before meeting with
Laura. She wondered how much business they would lose while she worked an abbreviated schedule.
Fretting over it, she pulled the car into the garage and headed up to the agency.
The case they'd taken on bordered more on boring than interesting. Laura was posing as a temporary
secretary beginning on a Thursday. That day, Friday and Monday, she'd generated a mound of letters
and filed papers in addition to answering the telephone. Most of the time, this kind of undercover work
didn’t bother her; she used her free moments to read proprietary manuals and study up on the latest
technologies of whatever industry she was investigating.
By Tuesday though, she'd decided her obstetrician was kidding herself if she thought Laura was going to
do little more than hang out in the office for the next two and half months. Her back ached from sitting
in a chair all day; her swollen feet hardly fit into her shoes; and the baby kicked until she got up and
moved around.
Fortunately for her sanity, on Wednesday morning the employee in question--her “boss” at the moment--
took a suspicious phone call. The caller was one of the names Laura had memorized as being a
competitor to this firm. As soon as her temporary boss left the office, Laura called Kaleb on the Rabbit’s
car phone. He’d been parked outside the building since Thursday, twiddling his thumbs and working
crosswords in sheer boredom. Happy to have something to do, he tailed the suspect to the meeting and
began snapping photos on the sly.
Carter called both Remington and Laura with the news in carefully coded wording before having the
photos developed. Just after three in the afternoon, Remington arrived with their client, photos in hand.
Laura’s “boss” protested heartily at the accusations until he saw the pictures. Not a stupid man, it didn’t
take him long to put two and two together to realize that Laura was the undercover operator. In his fury,
he lunged toward her desk, but Remington neatly tripped him up and forced him to the ground while
Laura danced back, well away from the action.
What started as an internal civil issue to the company became a criminal charge with that move. The
police were called to escort Laura’s “boss” to jail.
Remington said nothing about the incident itself, but that night he pulled her into his lap on the couch to
hold her for the longest time.
Siobhán spent the following weekend decorating her new bedroom and bathroom in a snazzy black and
white motif punched up by electric blue and shocking pink accents. She filled the walls with posters of
her favorite bands. Books and magazines covered the new white desk.
On that windy Sunday afternoon in late October, while Remington moved the last of Siobhán’s things
into her new room, Frances brought her two girls along while she and Laura decided on how to decorate
the nursery. Mindy and Laurie Beth sprawled out on the floor of Siobhán’s bedroom flipping through
teen magazines, eating more of Unca Remy’s cookies while something by U2 thumped on the new CD
player.
Laura and Frances wandered through the new rooms. Frances admired the workout space and playroom
as her sister explained what still had to be done in the renovation. “The demolition of the bathroom is
almost done, and the flooring in the main part of the apartment hasn’t been started yet. Otherwise, it’s
nearly complete. I really want it all to be done by Thanksgiving,” Laura said in a loud voice as her
husband tried to slip into the old guest room unnoticed. Remington visibly ducked as he heard her
comment.
“But you still have to decorate the baby’s room,” Frances said as they surveyed the plain white walls of
the nursery-to-be. “I still can’t believe you are waiting to find out what you’re having. How can you
stand it? Even I had to know so that I could get everything ready.”
Ignoring her, Laura idly paged through a book of decorating ideas. “What do you think of this?” She
held up the book.
Her sister pushed it down. “Laura!”
Laura grinned. “Not knowing is driving Remington crazy.” In reality, she was just as eager to know if
they were having a boy or a girl, but keeping her partner on the edge of his seat was nearly as satisfying
as knowing. “Besides, it’s keeping him guessing on names. As long as we don’t know, he can’t settle on
any one thing.”
“You mean you two don’t have names picked out either?” Astonished, Frances wondered where her
control-freak sister had gone.
Laura shook her head. “Not yet.”
Throwing her hands in the air, Frances yanked the book out of her sister’s hands. “No names, no sex,
no nursery, and you’re due in ten weeks. What are you looking--oh, Laura, that’s adorable!” she
squealed. “A circus theme. That’s perfect for you two. You’ve always loved the circus, and didn’t
Remington tell me he worked in one for a while?”
“As a fire breather. Okay, Frances, how do we do this?”
“Well, we’ll start with circus colors--red, white and yellow for your base colors. Since you have the
white, we’ll just add wide red stripes maybe? Or a whole accent wall? Do you have a measuring tape?”
Laura listened as her sister eagerly demonstrated how the paint, rugs and curtains should look. When
Remington popped his head around the corner, he found Laura writing notes in the margins of the book
with a pencil.
“Oh, we need to go get paint chips. And we need to pick out furniture--white furniture to go with the
theme. And you’ll need to pick out bedding.” Frances’ head was already buzzing with ideas for the
surprise baby shower she and Kate were planning for Thanksgiving week.
Remington leaned against the door frame as he overheard their conversation. “Ah, paint? Did you
actually get Laura to pick out paint? What are we doing in here?”
Laura handed him the book, and he pondered it for a while. When the silence stretched too long, she
asked, “What do you think?”
With a little flick of his eyebrows, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be back.” Laura raised her hands
in confusion at Frances’ quizzical expression. She went back to making a list of things her sister insisted
she had to have. A few minutes later, Remington returned with the fantastic musical carousel that had
been given to them years ago for solving a case. Practicing trapeze work and flying through the air with
Laura in those days was one of his favorite memories.
He set it on the floor, and Frances touched it gingerly to start the music. As twinkling sounds filled the
unfinished room, Remington borrowed Laura’s pencil and began sketching broad outlines directly on the
walls. The sisters watched--Frances in amazement and Laura in delight--as comical elephants began
trampling through the room, topped by silly clowns dancing on their backs. In one corner, tigers stacked
vertically on top of each other. Little monkeys climbed up a ladder in another.
Stepping back, he added, “I can put in a couple of trapeze artists if you’d like?”
Amused at the scheme he’d created, Laura quipped, “If you have time, you mean? You’re going to paint
all this before Thanksgiving?”
“Of course not, Laura. That’s why we hired Juan and his crew. If I sketch it, he’s got a nephew who
can paint it.”
“Of course,” she echoed.
Days later, red stripes graced the walls, and those little creatures came alive to romp around the nursery
waiting for its new tenant.
“Slide that big one into place,” Laura murmured.
“Like this?”
“Oh, yeah, just like that,” she said with a slight groan.
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“Just give it a shove. Ouch!”
“Sorry, love. I thought you wanted it there.”
“I do, I do … I just wasn’t ready.”
“Laura, how are we supposed to build this crib if you can’t hold up your end?”
Glaring at him, she rubbed her elbow where it had banged into the wall. “Fine. You try turning that
miniscule hex wrench with your hand jammed between the slats.”
He eyed her position on the ground and decided it would be too hard to change places with her. “Let’s
try it again.”
This time, the railing sat squarely on the screw. Laura twirled the tiny wrench to tighten it down. She
sat against the wall with a sigh of relief. Now she only had to support the one end while Remington
made short work of assembling the rest of the crib.
“Care to do the honors?” he asked as he waved to the side rail just begging to be dropped down.
Her eyes lit up. She took his hands, and he groaned comically as he pulled her up. Snatching a pillow
from the pile of fabric on the chair, she swatted him. “I’m not THAT huge.”
He looked her up and down, musing, “Hmm, Murphy told me the answer to this question. No, of course
not, love.”
Letting out an exclamation of frustration, she pretended to throttle him, but he neatly stepped into her
embrace so he could brush her lips with his. As her belly pressed hard against his stomach, he could feel
the baby kicking in protest. The thrill of it skittered into his heart, making it dance. “You’re beautiful,
Laura. Lovely.”
“Stop charming me,” she retorted as she melted into him.
“Ah, but it’s one of the very things you adore about me. ... No, don’t hide your smile. I saw that.” He
caressed her cheek with a thumb.
“I seem to be shaking my head at you a great deal lately.”
“Only because you know I’m right.” He landed another kiss on her lips before she turned away to play
with the crib railing.
“Nice job, Mr. Steele.”
“Well, you see, I have this very able-bodied associate.”
“Associate?” she chided.
“Partner,” he corrected.
Laura reached for the mattress, but he beat her to it and lifted it over the side of the crib. Together they
arranged the sheet and bumper pads. She hung the blanket on the rail while Remington assembled the
mobile and attached it to the crib. When they were done, little monkeys, giraffes and elephants rioted
across the bedding.
Remington felt a smidgen of guilt over assembling the nursery at the agency without Siobhán, but she’d
wanted to spend the weekend at Ms. Mildred’s and didn’t seem to mind. Earlier that week, two of
Juan’s men appeared at the agency to tint the walls of the safe room a hazy yellow. Since then, Laura
had talked only of getting the little room converted for the baby.
Unconsciously, he chewed on his thumbnail while Laura sorted through old circus posters she’d found in
an antique shop. Alone with Laura, he thought this might be a good chance to ask her a few tough
questions. He’d noticed in the past few weeks that she danced around certain topics. Fully expecting
careful sidestepping with friends and family, he’d been surprised when she’d done the same with him.
Taking care to start off on the right foot and with an easy question, he called her name, “Laura?”
“Hmm?”
“What was so special about this weekend that you wanted to get this nursery done so quickly?”
Pursing her lips, she tilted her head to the side. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because my sisters and
Mother have something up their sleeves about a baby shower. I’m sure they’ll have our nursery at home
outfitted by the time they are done. I wanted this for us.”
He grinned. “And you wanted it first.” Never say she misses a trick.
She copied his expression and handed him a nail. “Rei, you know me entirely too well. Besides, this
agency is … ours.”
Catching the hesitation on the last word, he chased it with his first tough question while hammering the
nail where she indicated. “Laura, why do I get the feeling that the agency is still more of a home to you
than the penthouse?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the faint irritation cross her face and the way she drew in her breath
to retort … then slowly let it out. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it that way. It’s not more of a
home but maybe as much of one.”
Surprised by her outright admission, he stated, “A great deal of your identity is wrapped up in the
agency.”
“True,” she answered without thinking, then realized what she’d said. “It is true. Now why does that
surprise me? And why does it occur to me that your identity has nothing to do with the agency?”
Really, Laura? Six years and you’ve just figured that out? “Because without the agency, I’d survive.”
Thoughtfully lowering herself into the rocking chair, she leaned back and scratched her belly. “That’s
twice you’ve brought up something along those lines. What’s on your mind, Rei?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, leaning against the wall as he sorted through his words to find ones that
wouldn’t needle his wife. He had her full attention and needed to be careful. Most of the time their
retorts and ripostes were strictly a game they played, but the habit could--and had, at times--turn into
bitter arguments. He didn’t want that now and knew he had to tread carefully in this conversation.
“I worry, Laura. I worry that when you find yourself torn between your child and the agency, you’ll be
angry with yourself, regardless of what choice you make. In a way, the agency is your first baby.
You’ve nurtured it and cared for it all these years.”
“But it can’t come first anymore; is that what you are trying to say?”
He knew he walked a thin line here. “Actually, no. I understand that the agency provides our living,
Laura. We can’t simply abandon it now that we have family.” He touched the picture he’d hung to
move it a fraction to the left.
“We haven’t seemed to have any difficulties with Siobhán,” she offered.
“No, but Siobhán has spent quite a few afternoons and evenings at the office or alone at home while we
work a case. More than I like,” he admitted.
Laura crossed her arms. “You’re exaggerating. She’s had a handful of afternoons after school, which
isn’t unreasonable for a fifteen-year-old, and the occasional evening in the office isn’t going to scar her
for life. Most of the time she does homework at my desk anyway.” She paused and eyed him
thoughtfully. “Remington, I understand that our lives are about to be very different. Having Siobhán
with us has made that point crystal clear.”
Still unsatisfied with her answers, he touched his lips before asking again. She’d been silent on the
subject of working for too long. “How are we to make this work, Laura? We haven’t even discussed
how long you’re planning to stay home.”
She eyeballed him suspiciously but answered. “I’m planning to be gone for the whole of January. I’ve
blocked out both of our calendars with Ian. I’m anticipating that we’ll get the occasional call that one of
us will have to handle. Quite frankly, I think it’s going to land on you to deal with them. After January,
or when I can’t stand it anymore--and your guess is as good as mine as to how soon that will happen--I’ll
pack up our newest Steele and bring him or her to the office.”
He nodded in agreement; that answer was more than he’d expected. “What about after that?” he asked,
pressing hard.
Laura raised her eyebrows. “I suppose … I thought I could work during the baby’s naps. Maybe I can’t
put in the hours I do now, but I should be able to do a decent amount. I … for a while I’ll be doing more
of what I’m doing now: case work from the office. I might be able to do some fieldwork, but I don’t
know how much.”
“And what about me?” There’s the hard one, love.
She frowned. “What about you?”
“What’s my role going to be?”
He could see her thinking carefully about her response and tried not to hold his breath in anticipation. At
last she asked, “What do you want it to be?”
Right on target. “Ah, that’s the question I’ve been waiting to hear.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Laura, you don’t have to raise our child and run the agency by yourself. I’ve had the feeling lately that
you’ve forgotten that you have me to help you with both. I plan to change my fair share of diapers--
though I may regret saying that--and while I may not have your management skills, I’ll do in a pinch.”
“But I just said that I fully expected you to pick up the slack while I was out,” she responded with a
furrowed brow.
“Love, I need you to understand that I’ll be there as both a parent and a partner at the office too.” He
tried to be solicitous but she wasn’t having any of it.
Struggling to get out of the chair, she waved off his proffered hand. As she got to her feet, she snapped
back. “Stop patronizing me, Rei. I wouldn’t be pregnant if I didn’t think you were willing to do your
share--both at home and the office. If you want to solve a problem that annoys the hell out of me, figure
out how we can go back to solving cases together without handing our baby over to someone else during
the day. I didn’t build my own business so that someone else could raise my children. But--” She put
the heel of her hand on her forehead.
He saw her face crumple before she turned away to finger the baby blanket on the crib. As the silence
stretched, he eased behind her to lay his chin on her shoulder. He rubbed her arms for a moment before
holding her in his embrace. He’d wondered when this was going to come out. He’d seen her struggling
with her own restrictions these past two weeks.
When she partially turned in his arms, her dry face belied the sadness in her eyes. “I miss taking on the
tough cases with you. I don’t like being sent home the moment a case gets interesting.” He started to
protest, but she stopped him, saying, “I understand it. I know better than anyone how quickly a day can
go from excruciatingly routine to dodging bullets without any notice. I don’t like stepping back, but I
wouldn’t change anything right now. You’ve been very quiet on the issue, which I appreciate, but we
both know that the situation at the software company could have turned out very differently if you hadn’t
been there. For now, this is simply the way it has to be.”
He waited her out, knowing there was more.
“I’m jealous. Terribly jealous watching you and everyone else do my job. I already feel as if I’m losing
a part of myself. I don’t recognize me anymore. I’m not ‘Laura Steele, private investigator’; I’m ‘Laura
Steele, gestating detective stuck in an office all day.’ ”
He looked away quickly to hide his twitching lips, but it was too late.
“Stop laughing at me. It’s not funny.” She glowered at him.
“I’m not laughing. I’m deciding what to paint on the ceiling.” He clutched her shoulders when she
moved to pull away. “Laura, love, you own this agency. Which means you, and only you, decide what
you will do here. And it’s not forever.”
She leaned back in his arms. “No, we own this agency. We built it together, Remington Steele. I might
have started it, but it would never have become what it is today without you. Which means you have
just as much of a say in it as I do.” There was a long pause before she said, “Sometimes I wish--” She
stopped again.
“Wish what?” But she shook her head and wouldn’t continue.
Remington sighed. Sometimes in her quest to be a strong woman, Laura still tamped her emotions down
instead of working through them, despite the trust they’d built between them. But he had an idea of
where she might be going with this. “Laura, I miss having you with me.”
“Do you?” she breathed.
“Of course I do, love. The whole reason I’m in this thing is because of you.” He drew his eyebrows
together. “That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? That you won’t be needed when it’s time for you to
come back. That I’ll get used to working with someone else and won’t want to have you as a partner
anymore. Am I right?”
This time tears did fill her eyes, and she rested against him. “Rei … I--yes,” she admitted.
Concealing his frustration at her periodic streaks of insecurity, he held her to him. “Laura, I’m not
interested in a new partner. I like what I do. Kaleb fills in admirably, but he’s not you.” She looked up
then. “Who would Nick be without Nora? If I have a choice of partners, I’d much prefer a lovely
brunette with a smart mouth and an attitude. You’re a damned sight prettier than Carter. I assure you
that if I have to wiggle through an air vent, I’d rather be looking at your assets than anyone else’s.”
Gratified to see a glimmer of a smile, he hugged her again.
Grateful maple eyes blinked back the wet and cleared. “I don’t think I can do that at the moment.”
“No?” He touched her swollen stomach. “Perhaps not at the moment, but soon enough, love. One step
at a time, Laura.”
Her confidence back in place, she nodded and eased away, but not before laying a hand on his cheek.
“Will you hand me a nail?”
Dropping a kiss into her palm, he answered, “Of course.”
5 November 2009
Chapter Twelve: Clues