Chapter Sixteen

Laney had a boy, and Wes was so thrilled that Andi suspected they heard his shouts of joy all the way to east Texas. As she stood at the nursery window looking in at the little wonder that had caused such commotion, she felt a deep sense of loss. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy for Wes and Laney. She was. It was just that the chances of her ever experiencing the excitement of motherhood were looking slimmer and slimmer. She wondered if God had called her to be single, if Promised Land was to be her only offspring. If that was the case, she should be happy, but her faith hadn’t been what it should be lately. Joy was difficult in the wake of grief and disappointment.

She leaned her forehead against the glass as a tear rolled down her cheek. What should I do, Lord? I’m so confused.

It came to her that she should stop thinking of herself and start concentrating on Justin. He had been kind to her in her time of need, for whatever reason, and now she needed to make amends for the fight they’d had before he left.

The least she could do was offer him some token of regret, some clue that she hadn’t meant the ugly things she’d said. Torn between fighting for him and fighting for control over her emotions, she at least wanted to be his friend.

“Hey, those aren’t tears, are they?”

She looked up and saw Clint Jessup, Sherry’s Embarrassed, she wiped her face. “Yeah. He’s just so sweet. I got a little emotional.”

He smiled and gazed through the window. “He’s gonna be a great nephew. I’m gonna be one of those uncles that spoils him rotten. And when Sherry and I have our own … man, I’ll probably strut around like the king of the world. Wes is so blessed.”

She dried her tears and grinned up at him. “Sherry’s the lucky one, Clint.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “Why do you say that?”

“To be marrying someone who looks so forward to the home and hearth stuff. It’s rare, these days.”

“Well, look at him,” he said, pointing at the baby. “How could you not want that?”

Her smile softened, and she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

They watched as the nurse took the baby out of his crib.

“You know who’d make a great mom?” Clint asked.

“Who?”

“You. With your organizational skills, you could probably handle a dozen kids. And they’d have such a cool backyard to play in.”

Andi laughed. “I think I’ll wait until I have a husband.”

“That shouldn’t be too far off,” he said. “I’ve noticed a glint in the eye of a certain animator …”

Her smile faded, but before she could answer, Sherry came running up the hall. “Clint, do you want to come hold the baby?”

Clint dashed toward her. “Are you sure? They’re not scared I’ll break him?”

Sherry waved for Andi to join them. “Come on, Andi. Laney wants you to hold him too.”

Surprised that she would be included in such an intimate family moment, Andi followed them to Laney’s room.

Andi gave Justin sufficient time after being back from New York to respond to the gift of apology she’d sent down to him. The little gold statue of Khaki Kangaroo had been custom-made in a frenzy when she’d ordered her jeweler to have it ready immediately.

Hoping the gift had paved her way back into his friendship, she rode the elevator to the sixteenth floor and smiled at the sounds of diligent activity that greeted her. To her left she could hear the tracks being recorded in the sound studio and unable to resist, she followed the high voice of Khaki Kangaroo and peered through the window to see a short, balding man with wild, laughing eyes reading the script. That’s Khaki? she thought with a laugh. Deciding not to disillusion herself by waiting to see the people behind the other voices, she tore herself away and hurried to Justin’s office.

His door was open, but there was no sign of him. Stepping inside, she saw the opened gift box on his desk and wondered where the statue was. Had she missed him on his way up to thank her? Or had he taken it to show his staff?

A woman’s gurgling laughter sounded outside and Andi turned around to see Madeline coming out of one of the offices, holding the statue for some of the employees to see. Pivoting in the corridor, she saw Andi. “Did you send us this?” Madeline asked in a lilting voice as she rushed into Justin’s office, brandishing the statue like a child with a new Christmas toy. Her thin eyebrows arched in delight and her dark eyes danced.

Andi forced a smile. “I sent it to Justin,” she said, tempering her voice with cordiality rather than animosity. “It’s kind of a congratulatory gift.”

“It’s great!” the woman said, straightening her pink headband over her unruly curls. “Wait until he sees it.”

“He hasn’t seen it?” The anger that she deliberately kept from her voice was apparent in the color rising to her tanned cheeks.

“No,” Madeline said nonchalantly. “He’s watching one of the Leica reels. You know, checking to make sure the pencil drawings match well with the sound track before they’re inked and—”

“I know what a Leica reel is,” Andi interrupted.

Madeline set the statue down and shrugged. “Well, I’ve been taking care of his mail today, trying to help him get caught up on some of the important stuff.”

“And that includes opening his gifts?”

“I didn’t know it was personal,” Madeline said, her voice beginning to edge with “sue me” irritation. “It didn’t even have a card.”

Andi picked up the statue, turned it upside down, and thrust it toward Madeline. “Wrapped gifts are usually personal. And it doesn’t need a card. It’s engraved.”

Madeline seemed undaunted by the personal touch. Taking it again, with no regard for keeping her fingerprints from smudging it, she read aloud. “‘To Justin, for victories without wars. You win, I win … Love, Andi.’ That’s nice,” she said mildly, handing the statue back to Andi and leaning against Justin’s desk. “Sorry. Guess I goofed. I didn’t know.” The genuinely apologetic look in her eyes softened Andi’s anger a little.

Andi nodded in reluctant acceptance of the apology and set the figure back down. “So,” she said, pushing back a wisp of hair that had feathered out of her chignon and seeking a new direction for the conversation. “Did you enjoy New York?”

“It was great,” Madeline enthused. “My first time. I went to the School of Visual Arts and found some new animators who are coming next week to start working with us. And then last night we went everywhere.” Her shoulders rose dreamily with the last word.

“Celebrating?”

“Yeah,” Madeline sighed. “Justin took me out to eat at The Russian Tea Room, and then we went to hear some great music—”

“Where were the others?” Andi cut in, realizing as she spoke that her voice was peppered with jealousy, an emotion she hated worse than any other.

Madeline crossed her arms defensively and narrowed her eyes at the floor. “We couldn’t find them. Later we learned that Nathan went to the Brooklyn Tabernacle for a special prayer service they were having. And Gene was with one of the new animators.”

Andi swallowed the knot constricting her throat and tried to think rationally. It wasn’t a surprise. She had known Justin was taking Madeline with him and she had known why. But coming to terms with their involvement was going to take time. It was hard to fight when her opponent didn’t consider her a threat, she thought miserably. Either Madeline was naive or didn’t care that Andi and Justin had spent so much time together before New York. But Andi couldn’t accept it so easily. Though there had been no declarations of love, no kiss, not even many touches except when she’d been distraught. Justin had done nothing that a brother wouldn’t have done. She was the stupid one for reading so much into it.

Before she could give it more thought, she heard Justin coming through the outside offices, answering questions on his way in and giving mild commands to the employees who scurried efficiently around him. An aura of self-confidence and success radiated from him, though the light blue shirt and tan slacks he wore gave a casual effect to his unself-conscious style. His eyes sparkled with reeling thoughts, but when he stepped into the office and saw Andi, the shutters closed visibly over them, and his cool hello left her feeling shunned and alone.

“Hi,” she said. When Madeline didn’t make a move to leave, Andi glanced uncomfortably at her, then dragged her eyes back to Justin. “I came to congratulate you.”

“Thanks,” he said, a cool smile lighting his eyes a degree.

Clearing her throat, Madeline grinned awkwardly and backed out of the office. “I have work to do. I’ll see you folks later.”

The obvious way she left the two of them alone bewildered Andi, and she watched her leave in amazement. Was she so secure with Justin that she trusted him completely? The idea was disheartening, for it had been her experience that self-confidence was the best defense against adversity. And if that was the case here, Andi was distressingly unarmed. It might be easier to deal with, Andi thought with chagrin, if she could make herself dislike the woman. But despite her efforts, she couldn’t manage to do even that. “How was your trip?” she asked finally.

“Great,” Justin said, setting down the papers he held and shuffling them absently on his desk. “Gave me plenty of time to think.”

From the deliberate way he tried to ignore her, Andi had no doubts that she had been the subject of those thoughts. “Me too,” she said in a hoarse voice, then cleared her throat. “I’ve realized I was a little … short with you before you left, and I shouldn’t have been.”

“It’s okay,” Justin said, bringing his vacant eyes up to hers. “I won’t let it affect our business relationship.”

The tone of his voice ranked somewhere between sarcasm and sincerity, and not prepared for such a comment, Andi couldn’t answer. There seemed nothing more to say as they held each other’s gaze across the room. Finally Justin looked down at his desk again.

“What’s this?” he asked, noticing the small, polished statue on his desk. He picked it up and examined the smooth golden lines of his star character.

“A gift,” Andi said carefully, waiting for some sign of pleasure in his eyes, but there was none. “I’m afraid Madeline got to it first.”

At the mention of the dark-haired beauty, Justin broke out in a grin. “Never leave a wrapped gift around Madeline. She can’t stand the suspense, and she’ll find some excuse to open it every time. She’s the same way with secrets, I’m afraid. But she means well.” As he spoke, he unbuttoned his cuffs and began rolling his sleeves up corded forearms, shifting the statue from one hand to the other. “What is it? Solid gold?”

Andi nodded proudly. It had cost a fortune, but it would be worth it if he would just flash her that smile that would tell her he forgave her for her outburst before his trip.

A muscle rippled in his jaw. “I’ll pay you back for it,” he said, setting it down. “We can afford to decorate our own offices now.”

A suffocating lump formed in Andi’s throat and her smile faded. “I don’t want you to pay me back, Justin. It was a gift.”

“I don’t want your gifts,” he parried, lowering himself into his chair. Then, as if catching his bitterness, he set the kangaroo down and raked a hand through his dark hair.

“It was for your staff,” she lied quickly, desperate to keep all painful inflections from her voice. “From my staff. I’ll be sure and tell them you appreciate it.”

The words seemed to change things, yet he studied her with suspicion. “Oh. I thought … Well, in that case I accept. For my staff. I’ll be certain to thank your people for it myself.”

“Don’t bother,” Andi said, lowering to one of his chairs and crossing her arms, as if somehow that would protect her from any more blows. “It was really no big deal.”

Justin picked up the statue again, seeming to fondle it with deeper appreciation now that he knew it was impersonal. As he turned it over in his hands, Andi prayed that he wouldn’t see the inscription. Maybe he would never see it. Silently, she lashed herself for making the foolish move, wishing that just this once she had not been so impetuous. “If you have time, I’d like to touch base with you about a few things,” she said, hoping to distract him.

He set the kangaroo down and leaned back in his seat, bringing his frosted eyes back to hers. “All right,” he said.

Andi propped her elbows on her knees, desperately trying to relax. “I kept B.J. pretty busy while you were gone. We got a good bit of work done on the designs for the automated figures, and I talked to him about some possible changes in your settings if you got the network contract. He seemed to like my ideas.”

Justin bit the inside of his cheek and drummed his fingers on his desk. “I haven’t had time to talk to him much since I’ve been here today. I’ve been in meetings all morning. You mind filling me in?”

Andi nodded. “I’d like for you to move your characters from the farm setting where you have them to a sort of Promised Land-type setting for both the feature film and the television segments. Your segments could have to do with areas of the park. The Noah’s Ark area, or Jonah’s Ride, or Jacob’s Ladder, or Canaan.”

Justin leaned back and laid his palms down on his desk. “Andi, I’ve been considering ways to bring Promised Land into my cartoons. But I am the animator. I’m the one who comes up with the ideas. Not you.”

“Fine,” Andi clipped. “Then talk to me about them. We’re in this together, Justin.”

Justin tapped the tips of his fingers together, a frown buckling his brows. “I kind of liked the idea of reworking some of your rides so that they fit more into my farm theme. I can’t exactly see Ned the nearsighted farmer trekking up Mt. Sinai.”

Her feigned composure shattered like crystal. “You want to rework my rides? Do you know what you’re asking?”

“Not to any great extent,” he said, stemming further objections with his hands. “We wouldn’t reverse any of the progress already made on them. But since most of them aren’t finished yet, there’s plenty of room for improvement on the original plans.”

“Improvement? I have some of the best creative minds in the world helping plan my park. It would be easier to change the cartoons.”

“Forget it,” Justin snapped. “If it doesn’t fit my story line, I won’t even consider it.”

“That isn’t what B.J. said,” Andi flung back. “He and the others have already come up with ideas for the stories.”

Justin dropped his hands with a loud thud. “Who gave you the right to give assignments to my staff? I don’t like being undermined. I’m the animation director here, not B.J. They’re my characters, and I make the decisions.”

Andi’s voice flared louder than she expected. “You gave me the right when you told me that B.J. could make decisions for you while you were gone.”

Justin sprang out of his chair and slammed it back against his desk. “I didn’t know you’d go behind my back and try to rewrite the scripts for me. There’s timing to consider, and the possibilities for gags, and the potential for a different story each week without overdoing the same old things. You think just because you dreamed up Promised Land that you can come in here and do the same thing with my cartoons? Forget it! I’d rather let you sue me!”

Andi stood up and cast a murderous stare at the man across the desk. “I might just have to do that if you don’t stop attacking me every time I approach you with an idea! There are decisions that have to be made immediately. Like how to handle the advertising for the park. Are your characters going to be associated with that or not? And the cartoon that coincides with our opening. Since I’m paying for that, I expect to be in on the planning stages. That’s how I work, Justin! Like it or not. And we can make it as easy or as difficult as we want to. But as long as we keep butting heads, neither of us will make any headway, and we’ll have to give up on this merger as a bad idea.”

Justin sucked in a dramatic breath. “Do you think there’s really hope of that?”

For lack of anything else to lash out at, Andi knocked her chair over with a crash and pointed a shaking finger at him. “There’s always hope,” she seethed. “But if I were you I’d think about it for a while! And when you think you’re ready to sit down and discuss this reasonably without blowing a fuse every time you disagree with me, then you know where to find me!”

The door slammed behind her, leaving Justin fuming with impotent rage. After a moment, he stepped out into the open area of his offices and thundered out Madeline’s name, ordering her to gather his senior animators for a conference. “I’ll come up with some ideas all right,” he mumbled, jerking the chair off the floor and setting it upright with a clatter. “But I won’t need Andi Sherman to help me do it.”