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 Seven: Quickening
Wednesday, 17 August 1988 -- 21 weeks, 6 days
Two weeks later, Laura was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner. Siobhán and Remington sat at the
island making a list of school supplies and looking over her new schedule. With school scheduled to start
in a week, the new family flurried about making transportation arrangements and getting signed up for
after-school activities. Last night had been “Meet the Teacher” night, and only Laura had any level of
comfort with the process. Remington pretended well enough, and Siobhán kept her head up as she
walked around the school and met a number of girls in her class.
So far Laura thought the girl was handling herself well. She’d been calling them “Mum and Da” all week
so as not to stumble at school, and neither of them pointed out when she missed. Siobhán was nervous
enough.
At the office that morning, Laura had sorted through the stack of paperwork they’d received from the
school, and now she passed it over to Remington along with their checkbook as he and Siobhán debated
on which activities to choose.
“Keep it to two,” Laura suggested, “at least for this semester. Sometimes the extracurricular activities
cause you more work than the classes themselves. What looks interesting to you?”
“Ah, art, piano and riding lessons,” Siobhán replied.
“I’m impressed, Laura. I didn’t realize the school boasts a stable where the girls can learn to ride,"
Remington interjected as he began rifling through the stack of papers.
Siobhán nodded. “We have to take care of the horses three times a week, but I think I’d like that.”
“It sounds like fun,” Laura agreed.
Picking up the checkbook, Remington asked, “What’s this for?”
“For uniforms, class t-shirts, field trips, fundraisers or whatever else Siobhán needs. Plus, her tuition is
due on the first day of school. It’s all in that paperwork.”
With an arched brow, he began sorting the papers to figure out which ones required money. “Good
Lord, what a racket!”
Laura laughed out loud. “I remember Mother's agonizing over the first month of school and all the
checks she had to write.”
Siobhán became very still, afraid of becoming a burden. She liked it here. Remington and Laura treated
her as an adult, asked her opinions and included her in nearly everything they did. She thought the old
movies they liked to watch were a little weird, but some of them had turned out to be pretty good. She
still wasn’t comfortable calling them “Mum” and “Da,” but they didn’t seem to mind, even though the
adoption paperwork was nearly finalized.
Laura saw her face fall and leaned across the counter to catch her hand. “Siobhán, it’s okay. We
expected this.”
Remington patted her back. “Of course, a stór.” He’d started calling Siobhán by the Gaelic endearment,
meaning “my darling” or “my treasure,” depending on whom you asked. She liked it and had turned
pink the first half-dozen times he’d said it. “I doubt we’ll have to sell the Auburn to pay your tuition,” he
joked.
The teen cracked a smile that grew broader when Laura added, “We’ll give up your tailor first, Rei.”
Remington pretended to sulk as he flipped open the checkbook.
As he wrote out the first one, he looked up to ask his wife a question and discovered she was staring off
to the side and had her hand low on her belly. “Laura, are you okay?” Color left his face as he
scrambled off the chair to reach her.
Siobhán froze in her place, not knowing what to do.
But Laura reached for his hand and placed it under hers. “I felt the baby move for real that time. I’ve
been feeling odd little sensations--like butterflies--all week. I wasn’t sure if they were real, but this one
was a … a little thump.”
Siobhán watched Remington embrace Laura and stroke her hair … feeling as if she had intruded on a
special moment.
The feeling stayed with Siobhán the night before school started. Nervous and unable to sleep, she tossed
and turned for nearly an hour before floating down the hallway for a drink of water. She found
Remington--Da--watching an old movie in the dark with Laura’s head on his lap. In the flickering light of
the television, she could see his hand on Laura’s--Mum’s--rounding belly, and they were speaking in low
tones to one another. He had the oddest smile on his face.
Siobhán started to withdraw, but Remington called her name; she came out, nervously twisting her hair
around her finger. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.
She shook her head as she drifted toward them.
Laura looked up at her. “I never could either before the first day of school. I was too excited and
nervous all at the same time.”
“Come. Sit.” Remington patted the cushion next to him, and Siobhán curled up on the sofa, a little away
from them. “We were just talking of you.” Seeing her apprehension, he smiled softly. “No, it’s not
anything bad, Siobhán. We were wondering if you were okay. You’ve been rather quiet since last
week.”
The teen just shook her head again and played with a curl. She pretended to watch TV while keeping an
eye on her parents out of the corner of her eye.
Remington didn’t miss her look and wondered again why she had suddenly become withdrawn these last
few days. Laura assured him that teenage girls did this from time to time, and that if they stayed
attentive and patient, more than likely she would come around. He wasn’t so sure. He didn’t think
Siobhán trusted them quite yet to come to them if she had a problem.
Movement under his hand distracted him as it had this whole evening. He grinned in awe at Laura. “I
felt that.” Two nights ago, while sleeping with his hand resting on her belly, he’d woken to an odd
sensation. Those little bumps and shifts against his sensitive fingers had brought tears to his eyes, and
he’d been grateful that no one had seen him lose his composure. Since then, though, he’d found every
excuse under the sun to keep Laura nearby where he could keep a hand on her.
With a flash of insight, he drew Siobhán closer and placed her hand on Laura’s belly near his. The baby
kicked. Siobhán gray eyes grew enormous. “Was that the baby?”
“Uh-huh,” confirmed Laura. They stayed that way until the baby fell asleep again and stopped the
fluttery thumps. Siobhán pulled her hand back and started to get up, but Remington stopped her by
putting an arm around her shoulders.
“Stay, a stór. Stay until you’re ready to sleep.” Siobhán settled down against, laying her head on his
shoulder. Remington laced his fingers with Laura's. With his cousin in one arm, his wife on his lap and a
hand resting on his growing child, he closed his eyes--wondering what he’d done to deserve this much
happiness.
Nearly an hour later, when the movie credits rolled (Sunset Boulevard, William Holden, Gloria Swanson,
Paramount, 1950), both Siobhán and Laura had fallen asleep, leaving Remington to figure out how to
extricate himself from the tangle of ladies. He laughed at himself. Ten years ago, two women meant …
best not to think of that. He’d take these two any day.
Laura woke to his gentle shake. At her questioning look, he pointed to Siobhán. She smiled at the
sleeping teen, and Remington carefully scooped the girl up. Together they tucked her into bed, and
Laura touched the girl’s cheek before leaving the darkened room.
Remington and Laura retreated to their bedroom, and she changed into a sheer nightgown that hugged
her curves. He came out of the bathroom and halted in his tracks. “You look beautiful, Laura.”
She blushed from head to toe. “I’m sure you’re just telling me that. I’m five months pregnant. I think I
might be waddling.”
“Not yet. I’ve seen some of those women at the doctor’s office. I can’t wait until you do, though.”
“Why?”
He came up behind her and ran his fingers through her hair and down her body before hugging her
waist. “I don’t know. You remind me of one of Botticelli’s Madonnas. There’s a portrait in Naples.
Ah, Madonna con il Bambino e due angeli, 'Madonna and Child and Two Angels.' I thought it lovely at
the time.”
She shot him a sly look. “And what were you doing in Naples?”
“Picking up a painting, of course. Not that one. But it was nearby. I was rather taken with it.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t lift it too.”
“No. I didn’t have a buyer. Jewelry--now that I might lift on a whim because one can almost always
find a way to fence the goods. But paintings? I did those by commission. Unless, of course, there was
a hefty finder’s fee for recovering a piece. Then it might be worthwhile to have a go at it.” He distracted
her by sliding his hands under her nightgown and nuzzling the back of her neck.
It worked. She leaned in and teased, “I take it you aren’t one of those men who can’t have sex with a
pregnant woman?”
“Laura, after years of chastity, I will take you any way I can have you. I still don’t think we’ve made up
for all that lost time. Besides, I rather think I’ll have to take the blame for getting you pregnant so
quickly in the first place.” There was a certain amount of masculine pride in that statement as he cupped
her swelling breasts. “And it wouldn’t be fair of me to deprive myself.”
She turned and pushed him toward the bed with a laugh. “That much charm in one man ought to be
illegal.”
He eased her down to him and began flipping the buttons of her gown open. “If it gets me what I want--”
The first day of school made all three Steeles nervous. Siobhán’s classes began at eight-fifteen, which
meant either Laura or Remington had to leave the flat with her by seven-thirty. Today, they all went
together, but Remington had lost the coin flip for Tuesday--and he wasn’t entirely sure Laura didn’t have
a hand in that. She’d been entirely too smug when she’d flipped her wrist over and uncovered the
quarter.
Groaning this morning when the alarm went off at six-thirty, he slapped it off and pulled the sheet over
his head. Laura rolled off the bed, taking the covers with her and dove into the shower. A very grumpy
Remington wandered into the kitchen to make tea and breakfast for Siobhán.
The teen was extraordinarily quiet as she picked at her eggs and toast.
“Nervous?” Remington asked as he sipped his own tea.
Siobhán nodded.
“Good. Then I’m not the only one.”
She giggled.
“You think I’m joking, a stór. But I am nervous. I’ve never taken my daughter off to school before.
Am I supposed to wave? Kiss you on the cheek? Pretend I’ve never seen you before? Do I give you a
personal escort to the classroom or drop you off at the front door? Or perhaps I should slow the car and
sort of let you jump out and run along?”
Now Siobhán shook with soft laughter. “How about you give me a hug when we get in the car, and then
I get out at the front door--after you’ve stopped the car--and I’ll walk in by myself?”
“Excellent idea. Now I think I can breathe a little easier for the next hour.”
Laura did a fair job of acting as a typical mom as they readied to walk out the door. “You have your
backpack with all the paperwork that needs to be turned in and your lunch money?” Siobhán nodded.
“Okay, then we’ll pick you up at three-fifteen.”
The anxious parents dropped off their daughter in front of the school and waved as she shrugged the
backpack over her shoulder and walked through the doors.
Remington turned to Laura. “Well, now I’m in a nervous twitter. How about you?”
She laughed and nodded in agreement.
The Steeles accomplished very little that day in the office. Remington spent most of it annoying Laura
between clients. She wasn’t any better--shuffling paper from one side of her desk to the other.
She shook her head in irritation at the file in her hand. If Laura thought being a young, single, female
detective was difficult, being a married, pregnant one was nearly impossible. At five months, she
couldn’t hide the evidence even if she tried. The client whose file she held had been the third in a week
to recoil in horror at the idea of her personally investigating a case. Laura had quickly resorted to the
polite phrases that she would “be supervising the resolution of the case” and that “in the event she was
unavailable, Mr. Steele would step in to personally assist.” It wasn’t exactly fiction, but it wasn’t reality
either. Remington had his own plate full, and the work would more than likely land on Sandra or Kaleb’s
desk. The clients didn’t need to know that for the time being, Laura continued to do her own casework
with few problems.
Aware of their nerves, Mildred took both of them out to lunch and then had a surprise suggestion for
them.
“Why don’t you let Siobhán stay with me on Saturday night? You’ve had her all summer. You two can
have a night on the town by yourself, and we’ll do some girl things.”
Remington glanced at Laura and rubbed the back of his neck. “I, ah, sure … if it’s okay with Laura.”
His wife grinned. “I think we’d better ask Siobhán, but considering she was asking about you, Mildred,
over dinner last night, I think she’ll be happy to stay.”
Remington leaned back into his chair, and suddenly, a broad smile appeared. “Well then, Laura, love, I
think we need to consider some sort of plans for Saturday night. It seems we have a date.”
“I will leave them in your capable hands, Mr. Steele.”
Mildred happily dug into her lunch, knowing she’d successfully distracted the pair from their nerves--at
least for a little while.
The first week of school came off without a hitch, although Remington discovered that six-thirty came
entirely too early in the morning for his taste. He negotiated a deal with Laura after the first day that
whoever took Siobhán to school that morning got to sleep in until seven before diving into the shower
and dressing in short order. The other was responsible for breakfast.
Laura snickered on Thursday when it was his turn again, and he yawned as he snatched up the thermos
of tea she’d made--he still didn’t approve of her coffee--on his way out with Siobhán. She hugged her
daughter as they went, and she turned back to dress at her leisure. She still liked getting to the office
before Ian came in at nine, but Mr. Steele was notorious for not showing up before ten unless Laura
made it worth his while to get up any earlier.
Each day this week he’d taken Siobhán to school, he’d come in well before nine, and today he sulked
about the injustice of people starting their days so early in the morning.
“I do think we need to petition the schools into starting at a much more reasonable hour, Laura,” he
complained from where he perched on the corner of her desk moments after he had arrived.
“You do that, Mr. Steele, and let me know how it goes.”
He grinned. “Or perhaps we can discuss long lunch breaks instead.” She pretended to ignore him.
“No? Laura, there has to be some sort of compromise here. I can’t possibly work under these kinds of
conditions.”
“Well, Mr. Steele,” she said as she ran a hand along the inside of his thigh, “you are your own boss.
What do you think we should do?”
Remington blinked, crossing his arms as he thought about it. “Laura, that’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair, Mr. Steele?”
“Well, if I can’t rail about my working hours and feel thwarted by your imposing harsh working
conditions upon me, then it takes all the fun out of my tirade.”
She laughed. “Would it make you feel better if I insisted that you sleep in on those days you don’t take
your daughter to school?”
He frowned. “It might. Ah, Laura?” She looked up again. “Are we in for this with our impending little
tyke?”
Leaning back in her chair, she tilted her head, resting her hands on her belly. “I think it’s safe to say we
shouldn’t plan on getting much sleep for the next twenty years or so.”
“Oh good. So long as you realize the realities of the situation. Somewhere in here we’re going to have to
figure out how we’re to run this agency with both of us staggering in on a short night’s sleep.” He leaned
over and kissed her square on the lips before escaping into his office.
Laura could only stare at the door with her mouth open. Remington had a better grasp of what was
coming than she thought.
Siobhán stayed Saturday night with Mildred. The teen had been thrilled at the idea of hanging out with
her, eating popcorn and chocolate, and watching a sappy romantic comedy. Remington took Laura on a
date for the first time in two months. It started with dinner and ended with a long walk along the piers of
Marina del Rey.
Alone with his wife for the first time in weeks, Remington enjoyed being able to focus entirely on Laura
and their child without feeling as if he were leaving Siobhán out of the equation. Listening to the waves
lap against the pylons, they found a quiet bench at the end of one of the walkways. Remington straddled
the bench and sat behind Laura, wrapping his arms around her so that she leaned against him.
They didn’t speak for the longest while, simply enjoying the quiet and the beautiful night.
3 November 2009
Chapter Eight: Names
Wednesday, 17 August 1988 -- 21 weeks, 6 days
Two weeks later, Laura was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner. Siobhán and Remington sat at the
island making a list of school supplies and looking over her new schedule. With school scheduled to start
in a week, the new family flurried about making transportation arrangements and getting signed up for
after-school activities. Last night had been “Meet the Teacher” night, and only Laura had any level of
comfort with the process. Remington pretended well enough, and Siobhán kept her head up as she
walked around the school and met a number of girls in her class.
So far Laura thought the girl was handling herself well. She’d been calling them “Mum and Da” all week
so as not to stumble at school, and neither of them pointed out when she missed. Siobhán was nervous
enough.
At the office that morning, Laura had sorted through the stack of paperwork they’d received from the
school, and now she passed it over to Remington along with their checkbook as he and Siobhán debated
on which activities to choose.
“Keep it to two,” Laura suggested, “at least for this semester. Sometimes the extracurricular activities
cause you more work than the classes themselves. What looks interesting to you?”
“Ah, art, piano and riding lessons,” Siobhán replied.
“I’m impressed, Laura. I didn’t realize the school boasts a stable where the girls can learn to ride,"
Remington interjected as he began rifling through the stack of papers.
Siobhán nodded. “We have to take care of the horses three times a week, but I think I’d like that.”
“It sounds like fun,” Laura agreed.
Picking up the checkbook, Remington asked, “What’s this for?”
“For uniforms, class t-shirts, field trips, fundraisers or whatever else Siobhán needs. Plus, her tuition is
due on the first day of school. It’s all in that paperwork.”
With an arched brow, he began sorting the papers to figure out which ones required money. “Good
Lord, what a racket!”
Laura laughed out loud. “I remember Mother's agonizing over the first month of school and all the
checks she had to write.”
Siobhán became very still, afraid of becoming a burden. She liked it here. Remington and Laura treated
her as an adult, asked her opinions and included her in nearly everything they did. She thought the old
movies they liked to watch were a little weird, but some of them had turned out to be pretty good. She
still wasn’t comfortable calling them “Mum” and “Da,” but they didn’t seem to mind, even though the
adoption paperwork was nearly finalized.
Laura saw her face fall and leaned across the counter to catch her hand. “Siobhán, it’s okay. We
expected this.”
Remington patted her back. “Of course, a stór.” He’d started calling Siobhán by the Gaelic endearment,
meaning “my darling” or “my treasure,” depending on whom you asked. She liked it and had turned
pink the first half-dozen times he’d said it. “I doubt we’ll have to sell the Auburn to pay your tuition,” he
joked.
The teen cracked a smile that grew broader when Laura added, “We’ll give up your tailor first, Rei.”
Remington pretended to sulk as he flipped open the checkbook.
As he wrote out the first one, he looked up to ask his wife a question and discovered she was staring off
to the side and had her hand low on her belly. “Laura, are you okay?” Color left his face as he
scrambled off the chair to reach her.
Siobhán froze in her place, not knowing what to do.
But Laura reached for his hand and placed it under hers. “I felt the baby move for real that time. I’ve
been feeling odd little sensations--like butterflies--all week. I wasn’t sure if they were real, but this one
was a … a little thump.”
Siobhán watched Remington embrace Laura and stroke her hair … feeling as if she had intruded on a
special moment.
The feeling stayed with Siobhán the night before school started. Nervous and unable to sleep, she tossed
and turned for nearly an hour before floating down the hallway for a drink of water. She found
Remington--Da--watching an old movie in the dark with Laura’s head on his lap. In the flickering light of
the television, she could see his hand on Laura’s--Mum’s--rounding belly, and they were speaking in low
tones to one another. He had the oddest smile on his face.
Siobhán started to withdraw, but Remington called her name; she came out, nervously twisting her hair
around her finger. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.
She shook her head as she drifted toward them.
Laura looked up at her. “I never could either before the first day of school. I was too excited and
nervous all at the same time.”
“Come. Sit.” Remington patted the cushion next to him, and Siobhán curled up on the sofa, a little away
from them. “We were just talking of you.” Seeing her apprehension, he smiled softly. “No, it’s not
anything bad, Siobhán. We were wondering if you were okay. You’ve been rather quiet since last
week.”
The teen just shook her head again and played with a curl. She pretended to watch TV while keeping an
eye on her parents out of the corner of her eye.
Remington didn’t miss her look and wondered again why she had suddenly become withdrawn these last
few days. Laura assured him that teenage girls did this from time to time, and that if they stayed
attentive and patient, more than likely she would come around. He wasn’t so sure. He didn’t think
Siobhán trusted them quite yet to come to them if she had a problem.
Movement under his hand distracted him as it had this whole evening. He grinned in awe at Laura. “I
felt that.” Two nights ago, while sleeping with his hand resting on her belly, he’d woken to an odd
sensation. Those little bumps and shifts against his sensitive fingers had brought tears to his eyes, and
he’d been grateful that no one had seen him lose his composure. Since then, though, he’d found every
excuse under the sun to keep Laura nearby where he could keep a hand on her.
With a flash of insight, he drew Siobhán closer and placed her hand on Laura’s belly near his. The baby
kicked. Siobhán gray eyes grew enormous. “Was that the baby?”
“Uh-huh,” confirmed Laura. They stayed that way until the baby fell asleep again and stopped the
fluttery thumps. Siobhán pulled her hand back and started to get up, but Remington stopped her by
putting an arm around her shoulders.
“Stay, a stór. Stay until you’re ready to sleep.” Siobhán settled down against, laying her head on his
shoulder. Remington laced his fingers with Laura's. With his cousin in one arm, his wife on his lap and a
hand resting on his growing child, he closed his eyes--wondering what he’d done to deserve this much
happiness.
Nearly an hour later, when the movie credits rolled (Sunset Boulevard, William Holden, Gloria Swanson,
Paramount, 1950), both Siobhán and Laura had fallen asleep, leaving Remington to figure out how to
extricate himself from the tangle of ladies. He laughed at himself. Ten years ago, two women meant …
best not to think of that. He’d take these two any day.
Laura woke to his gentle shake. At her questioning look, he pointed to Siobhán. She smiled at the
sleeping teen, and Remington carefully scooped the girl up. Together they tucked her into bed, and
Laura touched the girl’s cheek before leaving the darkened room.
Remington and Laura retreated to their bedroom, and she changed into a sheer nightgown that hugged
her curves. He came out of the bathroom and halted in his tracks. “You look beautiful, Laura.”
She blushed from head to toe. “I’m sure you’re just telling me that. I’m five months pregnant. I think I
might be waddling.”
“Not yet. I’ve seen some of those women at the doctor’s office. I can’t wait until you do, though.”
“Why?”
He came up behind her and ran his fingers through her hair and down her body before hugging her
waist. “I don’t know. You remind me of one of Botticelli’s Madonnas. There’s a portrait in Naples.
Ah, Madonna con il Bambino e due angeli, 'Madonna and Child and Two Angels.' I thought it lovely at
the time.”
She shot him a sly look. “And what were you doing in Naples?”
“Picking up a painting, of course. Not that one. But it was nearby. I was rather taken with it.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t lift it too.”
“No. I didn’t have a buyer. Jewelry--now that I might lift on a whim because one can almost always
find a way to fence the goods. But paintings? I did those by commission. Unless, of course, there was
a hefty finder’s fee for recovering a piece. Then it might be worthwhile to have a go at it.” He distracted
her by sliding his hands under her nightgown and nuzzling the back of her neck.
It worked. She leaned in and teased, “I take it you aren’t one of those men who can’t have sex with a
pregnant woman?”
“Laura, after years of chastity, I will take you any way I can have you. I still don’t think we’ve made up
for all that lost time. Besides, I rather think I’ll have to take the blame for getting you pregnant so
quickly in the first place.” There was a certain amount of masculine pride in that statement as he cupped
her swelling breasts. “And it wouldn’t be fair of me to deprive myself.”
She turned and pushed him toward the bed with a laugh. “That much charm in one man ought to be
illegal.”
He eased her down to him and began flipping the buttons of her gown open. “If it gets me what I want--”
The first day of school made all three Steeles nervous. Siobhán’s classes began at eight-fifteen, which
meant either Laura or Remington had to leave the flat with her by seven-thirty. Today, they all went
together, but Remington had lost the coin flip for Tuesday--and he wasn’t entirely sure Laura didn’t have
a hand in that. She’d been entirely too smug when she’d flipped her wrist over and uncovered the
quarter.
Groaning this morning when the alarm went off at six-thirty, he slapped it off and pulled the sheet over
his head. Laura rolled off the bed, taking the covers with her and dove into the shower. A very grumpy
Remington wandered into the kitchen to make tea and breakfast for Siobhán.
The teen was extraordinarily quiet as she picked at her eggs and toast.
“Nervous?” Remington asked as he sipped his own tea.
Siobhán nodded.
“Good. Then I’m not the only one.”
She giggled.
“You think I’m joking, a stór. But I am nervous. I’ve never taken my daughter off to school before.
Am I supposed to wave? Kiss you on the cheek? Pretend I’ve never seen you before? Do I give you a
personal escort to the classroom or drop you off at the front door? Or perhaps I should slow the car and
sort of let you jump out and run along?”
Now Siobhán shook with soft laughter. “How about you give me a hug when we get in the car, and then
I get out at the front door--after you’ve stopped the car--and I’ll walk in by myself?”
“Excellent idea. Now I think I can breathe a little easier for the next hour.”
Laura did a fair job of acting as a typical mom as they readied to walk out the door. “You have your
backpack with all the paperwork that needs to be turned in and your lunch money?” Siobhán nodded.
“Okay, then we’ll pick you up at three-fifteen.”
The anxious parents dropped off their daughter in front of the school and waved as she shrugged the
backpack over her shoulder and walked through the doors.
Remington turned to Laura. “Well, now I’m in a nervous twitter. How about you?”
She laughed and nodded in agreement.
The Steeles accomplished very little that day in the office. Remington spent most of it annoying Laura
between clients. She wasn’t any better--shuffling paper from one side of her desk to the other.
She shook her head in irritation at the file in her hand. If Laura thought being a young, single, female
detective was difficult, being a married, pregnant one was nearly impossible. At five months, she
couldn’t hide the evidence even if she tried. The client whose file she held had been the third in a week
to recoil in horror at the idea of her personally investigating a case. Laura had quickly resorted to the
polite phrases that she would “be supervising the resolution of the case” and that “in the event she was
unavailable, Mr. Steele would step in to personally assist.” It wasn’t exactly fiction, but it wasn’t reality
either. Remington had his own plate full, and the work would more than likely land on Sandra or Kaleb’s
desk. The clients didn’t need to know that for the time being, Laura continued to do her own casework
with few problems.
Aware of their nerves, Mildred took both of them out to lunch and then had a surprise suggestion for
them.
“Why don’t you let Siobhán stay with me on Saturday night? You’ve had her all summer. You two can
have a night on the town by yourself, and we’ll do some girl things.”
Remington glanced at Laura and rubbed the back of his neck. “I, ah, sure … if it’s okay with Laura.”
His wife grinned. “I think we’d better ask Siobhán, but considering she was asking about you, Mildred,
over dinner last night, I think she’ll be happy to stay.”
Remington leaned back into his chair, and suddenly, a broad smile appeared. “Well then, Laura, love, I
think we need to consider some sort of plans for Saturday night. It seems we have a date.”
“I will leave them in your capable hands, Mr. Steele.”
Mildred happily dug into her lunch, knowing she’d successfully distracted the pair from their nerves--at
least for a little while.
The first week of school came off without a hitch, although Remington discovered that six-thirty came
entirely too early in the morning for his taste. He negotiated a deal with Laura after the first day that
whoever took Siobhán to school that morning got to sleep in until seven before diving into the shower
and dressing in short order. The other was responsible for breakfast.
Laura snickered on Thursday when it was his turn again, and he yawned as he snatched up the thermos
of tea she’d made--he still didn’t approve of her coffee--on his way out with Siobhán. She hugged her
daughter as they went, and she turned back to dress at her leisure. She still liked getting to the office
before Ian came in at nine, but Mr. Steele was notorious for not showing up before ten unless Laura
made it worth his while to get up any earlier.
Each day this week he’d taken Siobhán to school, he’d come in well before nine, and today he sulked
about the injustice of people starting their days so early in the morning.
“I do think we need to petition the schools into starting at a much more reasonable hour, Laura,” he
complained from where he perched on the corner of her desk moments after he had arrived.
“You do that, Mr. Steele, and let me know how it goes.”
He grinned. “Or perhaps we can discuss long lunch breaks instead.” She pretended to ignore him.
“No? Laura, there has to be some sort of compromise here. I can’t possibly work under these kinds of
conditions.”
“Well, Mr. Steele,” she said as she ran a hand along the inside of his thigh, “you are your own boss.
What do you think we should do?”
Remington blinked, crossing his arms as he thought about it. “Laura, that’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair, Mr. Steele?”
“Well, if I can’t rail about my working hours and feel thwarted by your imposing harsh working
conditions upon me, then it takes all the fun out of my tirade.”
She laughed. “Would it make you feel better if I insisted that you sleep in on those days you don’t take
your daughter to school?”
He frowned. “It might. Ah, Laura?” She looked up again. “Are we in for this with our impending little
tyke?”
Leaning back in her chair, she tilted her head, resting her hands on her belly. “I think it’s safe to say we
shouldn’t plan on getting much sleep for the next twenty years or so.”
“Oh good. So long as you realize the realities of the situation. Somewhere in here we’re going to have to
figure out how we’re to run this agency with both of us staggering in on a short night’s sleep.” He leaned
over and kissed her square on the lips before escaping into his office.
Laura could only stare at the door with her mouth open. Remington had a better grasp of what was
coming than she thought.
Siobhán stayed Saturday night with Mildred. The teen had been thrilled at the idea of hanging out with
her, eating popcorn and chocolate, and watching a sappy romantic comedy. Remington took Laura on a
date for the first time in two months. It started with dinner and ended with a long walk along the piers of
Marina del Rey.
Alone with his wife for the first time in weeks, Remington enjoyed being able to focus entirely on Laura
and their child without feeling as if he were leaving Siobhán out of the equation. Listening to the waves
lap against the pylons, they found a quiet bench at the end of one of the walkways. Remington straddled
the bench and sat behind Laura, wrapping his arms around her so that she leaned against him.
They didn’t speak for the longest while, simply enjoying the quiet and the beautiful night.
3 November 2009
Chapter Eight: Names