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beam. “Happy Birthday, Momma.” He threw his arms around her, hugging tightly. “I love you.”
    Donna felt tears spring into her eyes. Nigel had a way of doing that to her. He was so sweet, so compassionate. Somehow his lovable nature made her feel a strange void.
    Nolan unfolded the morning newspaper. “Donna, my shirts should be ready at the cleaners. Before you take any more in, call around and get some prices. I think they’re screwing us.”
    “ I could do them myself.”
    “ We’ve been through that before. You have enough to do at the station. In fact, I wish you’d look into getting help around the house. I don’t want my wife having housemaid hands and knees.”
    “ I’d rather do it myself. Really. I’ll wear gloves.”
    “ Amelia recommended a cleaning service. Why don’t you get the number from her.”
    Donna inhaled deeply, but said nothing. How could she find fault with a man who wanted her to have more leisure time? He pampered her, spoiled her, made her feel important. If only Daddy— her thoughts were interrupted by a deep baritone voice.
    “ Greetings,” Stanley Cragg, Donna’s father, called out as he stepped through the slider, his arms filled with gift-wrapped packages.
    Nolan quickly stood, went to his father-in-law, and heartily shook his hand. “Good to see you, sir. Can you stay a bit? We have champagne for a mimosa.”
    “ Not for me. You go right ahead though.”
    Donna felt a surge of elation. He had brought her birthday presents. Making an effort to hide her eagerness, she crossed to him and kissed his cheek. “Oh, Dad, you remembered.” She touched the bow on the top package.
    “ How could I forget my grandsons. Sort of a belated Easter. Men,” he said to Junior and Nigel, “come and see what your grandfather picked up for you in New York.”
    Donna dropped her hand, rubbed the palm along the side of her cotton slacks as she shifted uneasily from one foot to another.
    The boys raced to their grandfather. The old man handed out the gifts and tousled their hair. “We’d better be going, men. We don’t want to miss the first match. Open your presents in the car.” He steered the boys ahead of him through the door.
    “ Oh, Dad,” Donna said. “I hate to sound like a broken record, but don’t forget brunch here on Father’s Day.”
    A stricken look came over his face. “Good gracious, Donna, I’m sorry. I’d forgotten you’d made plans. Warren called and invited me to join him in a regatta in San Diego, and I accepted. I suppose I could ...”
    “ No, no, that’s okay, Dad.”
    “ Next year, I promise.” He waved and hurried through the door.
    Nolan gathered up the discarded wrapping paper and headed toward the trash can. Donna slowly sat back down. She sighed, then began to pick absently at her nail polish.
    Warren again. This year she had asked her father well in advance and still her brother had won out. And she was certain her father remembered every one of Warren’s birthdays.
    When Donna was eight and her brother ten, their parents divorced. Every other Saturday he picked them up and took them to his ranch in the country for the weekend. Stanley and Warren engaged in fishing and hunting, all male activities, not suitable for young ladies, her father said. Donna spent her hours with her stepmother.
    Warren graduated with honors and went on to Harvard. Two years later when she graduated, also with honors, the final blow was yet to come. Her father refused to pay her tuition to college, saying that attractive women enrolled for only one reason, to snare a suitable husband. His offer to her was a new car and a trip to Europe. She could take it or leave it.
    She took it. Then she sold the car, banked the $5,000 vacation check, and enrolled at San Francisco State, where she majored in theater arts. She went to school by day and bussed tables at Tarantino’s on the wharf at night.
    A drama professor had encouraged her to enter the Miss Classic Pageant.