The Giannakis Bride(12)

Brianna's experience with the garment industry was such that she  recognized fine clothes when she saw them, and this was a gem; a  special-occasion dress designed by someone with a true eye for elegance  and style. But she had weightier matters on her mind, and the only  special occasion in her near future was a date with a team of doctors in  a private clinic. So, with a last fond glance at the dream of a dress,  she continued down the street and found herself outside a shop catering  to babies and small children.

The door stood open and, on impulse, she stepped inside. Stuffed toys,  hand-made quilts, pint-size furniture and other nursery accessories vied  for space with adorable dresses, beaded socks, dainty little shoes and  lace-trimmed sun hats. Delightful outfits of the kind that Poppy should  have been wearing, rather than the hospital gowns that presently  comprised her entire wardrobe. But she lived in such a protected  environment, she couldn't cuddle a plush teddy bear or a favorite doll.  If an object couldn't be wiped off with germicidal solution morning,  noon and night, it didn't get past the door to her room. Even the book  Dimitrios had been reading to her had laminated pages.

Until that moment Brianna had been drawn more by idle curiosity and  wishful thinking than by any serious intention of shopping for her  niece. With so many restrictions in place, there hadn't seemed much  point. But faced with such an abundance of riches, as it were, she  suddenly found herself asking, Why not? If ever a child needed and  deserved a little spoiling, that child was Poppy. Surely there was  something here, some inoffensive, pretty thing that could soften the  barren confines of her room without compromising her health?                       
       
           



       

The shop owner approached, and after ascertaining that the woman spoke  English, Brianna explained, "I'm looking for a gift for my  three-year-old niece, but it can't be clothing or anything like this."  Regretfully, she picked up a gorgeous velvet rabbit with long, silky  ears. "She's hospitalized, you see-and in isolation."

"She is in the children's wing of the Rosegarth Clinic?"

"I'm afraid so, yes."

"Ah." The woman clicked her tongue sympathetically. "Then certainly she  needs something to make her smile when you're not there, but it must be  something which will not expose her to risk of infection, yes?"

"How did you know?"

"Because you're not the first to come here, my dear lady. Many families  with children at the Rosegarth end up at my door, hoping to find just  the right gift to cheer up their sick little ones." She indicated a row  of glass-domed porcelain figures, some perched on swings, some skating  on mirrored surfaces, others riding on painted carousel horses or Ferris  wheels, and all mounted on sturdy metal bases. "These are very popular.  They're actually battery-operated music boxes with colored lights that  rotate as the figures move. They can be kept out of reach of the  patient, but still be enjoyed. I also have a wide selection of pretty  mobiles-butterflies, humming birds, swans and such-which also sell very  well."

Given a choice, Brianna would have left with enough packages to fill the  trunk of the Mercedes, but when Spiros came to collect her, she'd  managed to confine herself to one bright-red Ferris wheel music box, and  a mobile of iridescent butterflies. "Although I'll probably be back  again before long," she warned the saleswoman as she left the shop.

It was after five by then, and the traffic exiting the city was  horrendous. What had been only about a thirty-five-minute drive that  morning took almost twice as long in late afternoon, making it close to  half past six before she finally arrived on Dimitrios's doorstep a  second time.

Erika answered the door. "We were beginning to think you were lost," she  said, her glance suggesting she'd have been just as glad if that had  been the case. "Dimitrios has been waiting well over an hour for you to  show up."

"What for? You told me yesterday that he always spends the evening with Poppy at the hospital."

"As a rule, I do," he said rather curtly, emerging from what appeared to  be some sort of library to the right of the front door, "but I thought  you might like to come with me tonight, seeing that your visit was cut  short this morning. Since you've been out all afternoon, though, you're  probably too tired and would rather not bother."

"I'm not in the least bit tired. As for seeing her again, I'd love to, because I went shopping and bought her a gift."

"That's thoughtful of you, Brianna," he said, his tone softening slightly, "but we're pretty restricted on what we can take in."

"I know," she said. "Noelle explained all about that, but look, this  will be acceptable, don't you think?" Carefully, she unwrapped the music  box and held it up for his inspection. "See, it even has a glass dome  covering it that can easily be cleaned, and if it was put someplace  where Poppy could see it but not touch it … ? Then there's this mobile. I  thought it might hang near the window where it would catch the sunlight.  What do you think?"

"They might work," he allowed, "and there's no question but that she'd  get a kick out of them. You obviously went to a great deal of trouble to  find something she'd really enjoy."

"Which is a lot more than the other one would have done," Erika muttered grudgingly. "Will you be back for dinner, Dimitrios?"

"Yes." He glanced at Brianna again. "How hungry are you? Can you hold  off until about nine, or would you like a snack before we leave?"

"I can wait."

"Then let's get going, or Poppy'll be asleep before we arrive."

He hustled her outside, not to the Mercedes, as she'd expected-it, along  with Spiros, had disappeared again-but to a low-slung black sports car  built for comfort and speed. Erika watched them leave, her expression  stony with disapproval.                       
       
           



       

"That woman doesn't like me," Brianna observed, as both housekeeper and villa disappeared from view.

Zooming past the gates that marked the boundary of his estate, Dimitrios  made a sharp turn to the road and shifted into high gear. "You can't  blame her. You remind her of Cecily."

"Well, if she had an ounce of brains … !" Annoyed with herself, because  this was an irritation she'd lived with all her life and she ought to be  over it by now, Brianna abruptly halted in midsentence.

"Please don't stop now," he urged, not taking his eyes off the road. "Get it off your chest, whatever it is."

"All right. Cecily and I were two individuals who happened to look  alike, but too many people, including you, seem to believe we  were-are-interchangeable."

"I soon learned differently. To my cost, I might add."

"And that's another thing! I know better than anyone that Cecily had her  faults, but I'm getting sick and tired of hearing other people  criticize her. Regardless of what she did or didn't do, she was still my  sister. More to the point, she was Poppy's mother, and for that reason  alone she deserves a modicum of respect, because no child should have to  grow up never hearing a kind word about the woman who gave birth to  her. You might be glad Cecily's out of your life, Dimitrios, but I was  deeply saddened by her death. Believe it or not, there was a time when  she was sweet and kind and loving."

"Before Crete, you mean?"

"No," Brianna admitted, quelling a sigh. "Her decline began long before  then. The pity of it was, I didn't recognize it soon enough to put a  stop to it."

He spared her a swift glance. "Just yesterday, you told me not to blame  myself for the way she ended up. I suggest you take your own advice. And  for the record, I did my best to be a good husband, Brianna, and I  would never criticize Cecily to Poppy. I tried to make it work between  us, if for no other reason than that I don't deal well with failure.  It's not in my nature to accept defeat."

"Because you're a control freak," she said.

"Maybe I am, but one thing I learned the hard way is that even I can't  control love. I couldn't conjure it up on command, and in all truth, I'm  not sure it would have made any difference if I had been able to. You  probably don't want to hear this either, but the fact is, Cecily wasn't  looking for a husband, she was looking for a meal ticket."

"And what were you looking for, Dimitrios?"

"You," he said candidly. "I was looking for you. And by the time I  realized the carbon copy didn't measure up to the original, the damage  was done. Now I'm looking for ways to undo it."