Eleven
A storm rumbled through during the night. As a result Saturday morning dawned bright and relatively cool. Still, Julie slathered on sunscreen and poked her hair through the back opening of a ball cap to get it off her neck. Loose and comfortable in cargo shorts and a short-sleeved T-shirt, she pushed through the glass door to the Dalton International building just as Delilah pulled up in a gleaming, cherry red Cadillac SUV.
Delilah popped the door lock and Julie slid into the passenger seat, blinking a little at the driver's accoutrements. Delilah wore crops, a sleeveless linen overblouse, wide bangle bracelets and sandals-all in eye-popping lemon accented with a profusion of daisies. Even the bright yellow diaper bag propped against the center console sported a field of flowers.
"Morning," Julie got out, blinking a little at the sartorial splendor.
Delilah returned a noncommittal grunt and took a swig from the travel mug she plucked from its holder.
Refusing to let the less than enthusiastic reply daunt her, Julie twisted to smile at the baby strapped into a rear seat carrier. Daisies adorned Molly, too, from her little floppy brimmed hat to her cloth sandals, one of which she'd kicked off so she could play with her foot.
"Hello, Mol."
The baby was busy with her toes but paused long enough to gurgle. Or maybe that was a burp. Hard to tell, but the gummy smile that accompanied the sound tugged at Julie's heart as she faced front and snapped her seat belt in place.
"So Grace isn't joining us?"
She made the observation casually, more as an ice breaker than anything else. Unfortunately, Delilah took instant exception to it.
"I'm fully capable of tending my granddaughter for a few hours without assistance."
Julie thought back to how Alex and Blake had conspired not to leave Delilah alone with Molly on Grace's day off, but decided discretion was the better part of valor. She couldn't quite keep the tartness out of her reply, though.
"Ooh-kay."
Delilah shot her a quick look. "You tryin' to be smart with me, girl?"
"I wouldn't say I'm trying."
The response elicited a huff of something that could have been smothered laughter. Flicking a glance at the rear and side view mirrors, Delilah pulled away from the curb.
"I'm not spoiling for a fight," she informed Julie.
"Good to know." She paused while Delilah negotiated a double row of orange barrels. "What are you spoiling for, exactly?"
"I told you last night. I want to talk to you about Alex. But let's wait 'til we get to the zoo and I'm not having to run an obstacle course."
Once clear of the downtown construction, it took only fifteen minutes to reach the sprawling hundred-acre Oklahoma City Zoo and Botanical Garden complex. Julie had visited the state's number one tourist attraction a number of times, either with her parents or on school field trips. This was the first time she'd made an entrance with one of the zoo's most generous benefactors, however.
The bronze "Donor Honor Roll" plaque mounted just inside the entrance attested to Dalton International's financial contributions. The effusive welcome Delilah received from both staff and volunteers suggested her interest was personal as well as financial-an impression Delilah confirmed when she steered Molly's stroller to the palatial new elephant habitat.
"Look at this," she exulted. "Nine and a half acres and the best facilities anywhere in the country!"
Their elevated viewing spot overlooked a sweeping vista of jungle, grassland and watering holes. In the hole directly below them, a shaggy pachyderm trumpeted ecstatically, snarfed up a trunkful of water, and threw spray over his back at the caretaker scrubbing his-her?-hindquarters with a long-handled brush.
"Did you help build all this?" Julie asked, as goggle-eyed as Molly at their proximity to the giant Asian grey.
"I'm on the fund-raising committee. We're at thirteen million and counting," she added with smug satisfaction.
Julie might not like the woman very much but had to admire her active involvement in her community. And, she conceded reluctantly when Delilah steered them to a tree-shaded bench, her mother's right to meddle in her sons' affairs.
Popping the seatbelt on the stroller, Delilah lifted out a squirming Molly. "Here, hold her while I fish out a bottle."
The baby fit perfectly in the crook of Julie's arm. Her still pale blue eyes peered up from under the brim of her daisy hat solemnly until Delilah produced a bottle from a cool pack inside the diaper bag. Fists waving, Molly demanded instant gratification.
Delilah passed Julie the bottle and waited until she had Molly sucking greedily before launching her attack.
"You and Alex sleeping together?"
Julie whipped her gaze from the baby's pursed, rosebud mouth and locked on Delilah.
"Yes."
"I thought so."
Her scowl suggested she wasn't particularly thrilled to have her suspicions confirmed.
"He's got more than just a bad case of the hots for you, you know."
Startled, Julie looked from her to the baby and back again. "No, I don't know. We, uh, haven't gotten around to dissecting our feelings for each other."
"Dissect 'em now. You just scratching an itch with Alex, or is it more serious?"
Well, she couldn't say she hadn't been warned. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell the woman to butt the hell out when Delilah preempted her.
"Don't get all hot and bothered with me, Julie. I love my son. I don't want anyone stomping on his heart."
"We're not to the stomping point, Delilah."
"You sure about that? I saw him getting kissy-eyed with you at the Civic Center last night. He never made that kind of public display with any of the women I've pushed at him these past couple of years."
"Probably because you pushed them at him."
"Probably," Delilah conceded grudgingly. "It's just … "
She paused while Julie hitched Molly a little higher in her arm.
"It's just I'm not getting any younger. I want to see Alex settled down. Alex and Blake both. With the right women."
The pointed addendum had Julie bristling again.
"I'm not sure how you define 'right', but I'll tell you this. Whatever's between Alex and me has nothing to do with you. Or with Molly."
She glanced down at the child in her arms, and her heart gave a little lurch.
"Sorry, kiddo," she said softly. "I'm not your momma."
When she lifted her gaze and repeated that emphatically, Delilah flapped a wrist loaded with plastic yellow bangles.
"Oh, hell, I know that. I sent the water glass you used at brunch that first morning for DNA analysis. Shelled out big bucks to get the results the next day."
Julie's jaw dropped. Snapped shut. She had to wait until she could trust herself to utter something other than four-letter words to reply, however.
"You didn't have to shell out any bucks. I gave Alex a DNA sample the second night I was here. It's not my fault he chose not to tell you."
"Doesn't matter." The bangles flapped again. "A mother does whatever she considers necessary to protect her offspring. Which brings us back to you and Alex."
"Delilah … "
Ignoring the irritated growl, the older woman gestured to Molly. "She needs burping."
She dove into the diaper bag, produced a folded pad, draped it over Julie's shoulder, and waited only until the baby was positioned and being patted to pick up where she'd left off.
"When I said I wanted my sons to settle down with the right women, I wasn't throwing stones at you. I was thinking of what you do for a living."
Julie's hand paused in mid-pat. "How does that factor into the equation?"
"I'm Oklahoma born and bred, girl. I've been around enough crop dusters to know it's a dangerous occupation."
"Probably as dangerous as wrestling pipe with two small boys hanging on your arm," Julie retorted.
A satisfying belch put a temporary halt to their skirmish. Hostilities resumed as soon as Molly was tucked back in Julie's arms, sucking happily.
"Big Jake and I did what we had to do to keep food on our table," Delilah argued. "If you and Alex connect, you sure certainly don't have to worry about where your next meal's coming from."
"I don't worry about that now!"
"No need to get huffy. I'm just telling it like it is."
Julie shook her head in mingled amazement and exasperation. "You're a piece of work, lady. A real piece of work."
Delilah brushed that aside as irrelevant and pressed ahead. "Alex told me how you took to the air in the Lane 602. Said you fly like you were born with wings. He also said his heart damned near stopped when you did wheelies in the sky."
"I'm a good pilot," Julie retorted, stung.
"Didn't say you weren't. But you and I both know it's not just the flying that makes what you do so dangerous. It's also breathing those chemicals day in and day out."
Julie bit back a hot retort. She could counter that she took every safety precaution in the book when she mixed fertilizers and pesticides-long-sleeved shirts, pants, boots, goggles, rubber gloves. Even a mask for her mouth and nose when she worked with particularly toxic liquids. But she couldn't deny that the risk was always there. One spill, one splash, one deep, unprotected breath could sear skin, eyes or lungs. Mouth clamped shut, she returned Delilah's unwavering stare.