Matchmaking Mona. Diana Mars
a woman’s league in Europe or South America, I’ll just be postponing my real dream,” Mona said after taking a sip of orange juice. “And if I do, it will be only long enough to finance my education and my research trips and expeditions.”
“Well, I’m sure if anyone can accomplish combining Mead, Leakey and Indy into a career, it’s you,” LJ. said.
As the waiter approached with a tray laden with food—most of it Mona’s—L.J. asked Cooper, “That was an astute observation, Mr. Channahon. Have you ever taken an anthropology course?”
Cooper waited until they sorted out their dinners. He noticed LJ.’s hidden quick smile at the plethora of plates surrounding Mona like Indians circling the proverbial wagon train in those musty Westerns, and felt his spirits lift. Anyone that attuned to a youngster could not remain unthawed for long.
At least he hoped not. So far, Dr. Livingston did not seem to be responding to what his sister, Corliss, had called his legendary charm.
Which reminded him. “Would you prefer to be addressed as Dr. Livingston?” LJ.’s initial friendliness toward him had deteriorated after Mona’s lethal comments, and he wanted to make sure Mona did not overstep her boundaries.
LJ. almost choked on a piece of shrimp. “For heaven’s sake, no! Not only does it remind me of that old African Continent chestnut I’ve had to hear all my life, but it’s far too stuffy.” Turning to Mona, who was helping tame her spaghetti with a fork and a bagel, she offered, “You may call me LJ.”
Mona’s eyes lit up, but she waited until she gulped her spaghetti down before saying, “Thank you, Ms. Livingston. I mean, L.J.,” she added shyly.
Cooper hadn’t seen the shy side of his niece in ages. She really had a bad case of hero worship.
He just hoped that Dr. Livingston—he would always remember their inauspicious beginning, and it was going to take a while for him to accustom himself to thinking of her as L.J.—realized it.
As their eyes met across the table, Cooper saw that L.J. had, indeed, recognized the extent of Mona’s adoration. Her look was less frosty, and her gaze telegraphed reassurance.
Cooper’s fierce protectiveness quieted. He had been at the hospital when Mona had been born. His brother, Corbett, had been out of town on business, and because of a blizzard, had not been able to return immediately when the baby had made a premature appearance. Corliss had still been away at school, and Cooper had been at Lauren’s and Mona’s sides when the doctors had not been sure if either of them would pull through.
As much as he liked L. J. Livingston, he would never let anyone harm Mona or make her unhappy.
Not even a woman he was coming to like and admire as much as L.J.
Mona’s piping voice distracted him from those dark hours, a long time ago...
“You stated you were not married, right, L.J.?”
His niece’s question alerted all of Cooper’s senses. It sounded like the beginning of a typical Mona interrogation.
He knew there had to be one good thing about being closely related to a teenager...they really did go where angels feared to tread.
“No, I’m not,” L.J. said, her voice laced with amusement.
To disguise his curiosity, Cooper offered her some more wine, which she declined. He served himself one more glass, and set the bottle down.
“Because I was wondering, like, if you had a husband, or boyfriend, or something, wouldn’t it be hard to be here, so far away.... I mean, won’t it take you weeks to excavate this site?”
“Months, actually,” LJ. answered after slowly chewing some rice. She wiped her mouth delicately with a white cloth napkin, and added, “I wasn’t supposed to be here for another few weeks, because of the weather—it’s been unusually rainy, as well as unseasonably cold—but I couldn’t take a chance with the APs.”
“Accounting Programmers?” Cooper asked, perplexed.
Well, that answered one question, L.J. thought. He was not one of the Aliens and Other Paranormals true believers.
Smiling, she answered, “I wish that were the case. No such luck. There is a convention of Aliens and Paranormals in the farm field next to the site, and I came down early to make sure they don’t disturb anything while chasing and investigating flying saucers and other phenomena. While one of their directors, Serena, seems a levelheaded young woman, the more extreme members keep drilling me as to whether I’ve found the link with lost civilizations.”
“Then it’s true?” Mona asked excitedly. “My teacher, Ms. Thompson, said you were trying to uncover connections to the Maya and Aztecs.”
“It’s too early to tell. Supposedly stones depicting Great Temple altars and Maya glyphs were found by some farmers, but we still have to do carbon dating, and ensure that artifacts were not intentionally interred. A certain AP element believe that the Maya were ancient voyagers, and that the lights they sighted in the sky signal their return in their advanced vessels.”
“With the popularity of Independence Day, ‘X-Files’ and ‘Dark Skies,’ there are a lot of people who seem to believe in UFO’s and extraterrestrials. The more ruthless elements could really do some damage,” Cooper said thoughtfully, pouring the last of the sour cream on a potato already heaping with butter and cheddar cheese. He saw both Mona and LJ. observing him, and added some more butter. He didn’t often indulge like this, but watching LJ.’s generous mouth thin with concern for his arteries, he figured he would brave some hardening of his vital vessels if it got him some attention from the aloof doctor.
While LJ. politely refrained from chastising him on his unhealthy habits, Mona had no such compunction.
“Too much cholesterol,” Mona said with typical teenage inconsistency. Her many plates more than doubled Cooper’s intake of heart-sabotaging foods. “You know Mom said it will be the death of you, yet.” To LJ., she confided, “My Mom used to be a nurse.”
“Oh, did she change careers? Or did she just want to stay home for a while?” L.J. asked, spearing her last shrimp.
“Oh, neither. Mom died a year ago. A heart attack.”
Four
The words were spoken casually, and Mona dug into her fruit salad, picking up her favorite, the pineapple bits.
LJ.’s fork remained frozen on the way to her mouth for an instant. Then she set it down.
The shocked look on her face was quickly replaced with one of concern. Her hand went to Mona’s slender wrist.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean—”
Mona looked up quickly, and then back down to her salad. She said casually, “Oh, that’s okay. You couldn’t have known.”
LJ.’s comforting hand remained on Mona’s for another instant, her face a study in compassion. It was at that moment that Cooper realized he could easily fall in love with Dr. Livingston.
The thought struck fear into his heart. He had dearly loved Lauren, and had seen the devastation the loss of his brother’s high school sweetheart had wrought on his previously carefree younger sibling. Corbett had not recovered yet. He was dazed and confused, daunted before the prospect of raising a teenager without the levelheaded, loving discipline of Lauren.
Cooper pushed that fear aside. Lauren had never been a strong, healthy person. She had been advised against bearing children, but had decided to have Mona at all costs. It had eventually cost Lauren her life.
L.J. seemed a more robust specimen of womanhood. At least, he hoped to God she was. It had been agonizing dealing not only with the loss of a dear sister-in-law, but with the heartache his brother and niece had experienced.
Cooper noticed L.J.’s concerned glance. She was obviously puzzled