Free The Homecoming Baby by Kathleen O`Brien Page A

created a monster.
    Now what? He had lowered his face again, his lips rooting around, searching for hers.
    Just her luck. At that very moment the silver bell rang out one more time.
    And Patrick Torrance walked into the restaurant.
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    T WO HOURS LATER , Celia wanted to kill them both.
    The three of them had eaten dinner together, all in the same roomy horseshoe-shaped booth. It had been a downright surreal experience. She’d expected tension, lots of it. Jerry might be suspicious of Patrick, the handsome stranger. Patrick might be jealous of Jerry, the cozy old boyfriend…
    But she couldn’t have been more wrong. Apparently it hadn’t occurred to Jerry that Patrick might be anything more than what she said—a visitor to Enchantment who had courteously rescued one of her patients. Jerry’s lack of imagination, she remembered, always had been one of his most annoying shortcomings.
    Even worse, Patrick hadn’t seemed to mind one bit seeing Celia in Jerry’s arms, with her lipstick all over Jerry’s mouth. He hadn’t even blinked. It was very depressing. Apparently he didn’t give a darn who she kissed.
    In fact, the two men had hit it off like long lost brothers. Which, in a way, it turned out they were. Fraternity brothers, though from different universities, different years. Before the first course, they were exchanging hell week stories. By dessert, Patrick was cheerfully encouraging Jerry to sing the old fight songs, even though Jerry managed to hit only about one of every three notes correctly.
    Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer.
    She was sandwiched between them, so when she said “Excuse me,” both men moved instinctively.
    Everyone laughed, and then Patrick relinquished the honor to Jerry gracefully. In her mood, that annoyed her, too. Patrick wasn’t even interested enough to fight for the right to let her out.
    She didn’t head for the ladies’ room. Instead she went back to the kitchen, where Mitch was sitting on the counter, trying to keep his chef, a big geniusnamed Julio, from quitting over a half-eaten duck breast with papaya vinaigrette.
    â€œBe reasonable, Julio. Gina Vaughn is only five feet tall. Where would she put all that duck? She ate as much as she could.”
    â€œIt is an insult. My Duck Papaya is light, the wings of angels. Size does not matter when the food is made of the clouds of heaven.”
    â€œEveryone knows your duck is the best, Julio.” Mitch turned toward Celia with the desperate face of a man at the end of his rope. “Don’t they, Celia?”
    Celia looked at the chef without a lot of sympathy. Julio’s face was as red as a tomato, and he was brandishing a very large, very pointed knife. In her personal opinion, Celia thought, people like Julio should not be allowed to handle anything sharper than a butter knife.
    â€œOf course,” she said, trying for Mitch’s sake to swallow her annoyance. But good grief, what an ego. “It’s a sad fact, Julio, that some people just don’t have a very sophisticated palate.”
    His face calmed a little, and the knifepoint wavered, dropping an inch. “Yes,” he said, considering. “Tragically, that is true.” He turned to Mitch. “From now on, you will not let such people come into this restaurant.”
    That was too much even for the patient Mitch. “You’re right, Julio,” he said, climbing down off the counter with a grunt. “In the future I’ll give them a palate-check at the door. It’s not like we need the business or anything.”
    The knife went up again, along with Julio’s color. He knew sarcasm when he heard it.
    â€œMitch,” Celia put in. “Can I see you for a minute? It’s important.”
    Julio growled, but Mitch followed Celia into his office. “God,” he said as he closed the door. “I hope you and your two boyfriends ate every damn bite of