Remember the Time (19 page)

“Yes, ma’am,” he said respectfully. “Oh, and ma’am? Anytime you’re ready to give me an answer to my question, I’ll be ready.”

“I have no doubt about that, Matt,” she said matter-of-factly.

Mike’s voice reached them from the back porch. “How much time do you need to take a leak?” He entered the kitchen. “If you’re done, run down to Lowe’s and pick up that paint I ordered.”

“Yes, sir,” Matt said, passing his uncle on the way out.

“Yes, sir?” Mike repeated. “What brought that on?” Kate shrugged, and went back to emptying the grocery bags. “Hey, Kate?” She looked at him over her shoulder. “Sheryl wanted to know what you had planned for Thanksgiving.”

Turning back to the groceries, she said, “Unfortunately, I promised Paul’s family I’d spend the day with them. But tell Sheryl thanks anyway.”

“Sure,” he said, knowing Kate would rather cut off her thumbs than visit Paul’s mother and sister. It was an interesting lie. “I’ll let her know. Oh, and Kate? The Cobble Hill inventory … They stepped it up a couple of
days. We need to start work on that on the twenty-ninth. Is that okay with you?”

Folding up the last brown bag, she nodded. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up on Monday, then. Around nine?”

She finally turned around, and he was glad. He was tired of talking to her back.

“Pick me up? What for?”

“I’ll need to show you around. Introduce you. Don’t worry … after that you’re on your own. I’ll still be working over here. I’d really like to get this house done before Christmas.”

“Whatever you say, Mike.”

A beat passed and then he said, “Yeah.
Right.
”

“S
o, how’s the Armstrong clan these days?” Mike asked, waiting for Kate to buckle her seat belt. “Fine. Paul’s mother asked about you.”

Mike put the truck in gear and pulled away from the curb. “And how was the dinner?” He glanced over at Kate, who was busily rummaging through her purse.

“The turkey was dry and she made oyster stuffing, which I hate.”

Mike nodded to himself. “Did Patty make her famous Jell-O mold?”

“You mean
Patricia
,” Kate stated, referring to Paul’s sister who had always been Patty growing up, but after marrying Gordon the lawyer, became Patricia at all times. “Yes. It was disgusting, as usual.”

Mike kept on, knowing he was annoying her. “Did Gordon make it in time for dinner this year?”

“Yes, but the kids didn’t. They were on a ski weekend.” Kate pulled a small mirror and a tube of lipstick out of her purse.

As she began applying a second, unnecessary, coat, he finally said, “Come off it, Kate. I know you weren’t there.”

She calmly replied, “Well, if you know that, why the third degree?”

“I just wanted to see how far you’d take it.”

“Now you know,” she said, staring straight ahead. “And how was your Thanksgiving?”

“Not nearly as inventive as yours,” he answered.

Kate had missed Mike, but wasn’t ready to admit that to him. The four days he wasn’t in her house had seemed like forever, and those days seemed to blur together. She’d wandered from room to room, looking for something to distract her. Out of desperation she’d actually finished her To Do list. She read three books—all mysteries. Rented two movies—psychological thrillers. Love stories were out of the question. She’d managed to keep her drinking confined to a glass or two of wine after what passed for dinner. Thanksgiving Day she’d called her parents and then eaten a turkey sandwich. And all the while, she had to keep telling herself to stop thinking about Mike, which only served to make her think of him more.

She continued, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Did Sheryl have to cook a second turkey just for Matt?”

Kate in denial was more stubborn than any mule. “No, but my mom sent us a five-pound box of chocolate-chip cookies. I think I got to eat one,” Mike replied.

They sat in silence, waiting for the light to change. Mike searched for something to say. “Speaking of Matt, you’ve made quite an impression on him. One could even say he was smitten.”

“He’s a walking hormone. What does he know?” Kate said sharply, but she secretly smiled.

“More than you or I think.” Mike turned the truck into the long, curving driveway of a stucco and stone mansion. The front door opened and a slim, elegant woman smiled and gave Mike a small wave as he stepped out of the truck. “The owner,” Mike said under his breath, ushering Kate up the stone path.

Taking his hand in hers, the woman said, “Well,
hello, you handsome thing,” in a husky voice laced with generations of Virginians. “And this must be Kate Armstrong?”

“Kate, I’d like you to meet Julia Parrish.”

Kate took the perfectly manicured hand of the stunning blonde. A thick gold bracelet circled a wrist covered in cashmere. The rock of a diamond perched on Julia Parrish’s ring finger cut into Kate’s skin. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Parrish.”

“Oh, please!” The woman smiled warmly, revealing beautiful pearly white teeth. “I haven’t been Mrs. Parrish in several years. Call me Julia.” She took Kate’s arm, leading her inside. “You are a gorgeous thing.” Her voice dropped a notch. “Nothing like the ladies from the Hysterical Society.”

“You’re exaggerating, Julia.” Mike chuckled, following them into the foyer.

Julia Parrish looked over her shoulder. “Well, maybe. But not by much.”

“You have a lovely home,” Kate said, realizing the word “lovely” didn’t begin to cover it.

“Well, thank you, sugar. Let me give you the ten-cent tour. Michael, there’s coffee in the kitchen. You make yourself at home while I get to know your pretty young aide.”

Young?
Kate thought. Julia Parrish couldn’t be a day over forty herself.

“Why don’t we start upstairs?” The word came out of Julia’s mouth
up-stay-uhs
, and Kate hid a smile. She’d always loved hearing the various accents that Virginia spawned and Julia Parrish had one of the most charming.

Kate followed Julia up the sweeping staircase, detecting a subtle hint of a flowery-spicy perfume. She couldn’t name it, but knew it was something very French and very expensive.

When the two women reached the landing on the second floor, Julia turned her silvery-blue eyes on Kate,
and they sparkled as she said, “So, tell me the truth, sugar. Is he as good as he looks?”

Kate was so startled by the question that came out of this refined beauty’s mouth, that she was momentarily struck dumb. But Julia was peering at her with eager curiosity, and Kate finally stuttered, “Excuse me?”, thinking maybe she’d misunderstood her.

“Come on, honey. What’s he like in the sack? I’ve been dying to know.”

Oh, God. She’d heard right. The woman’s eyes were actually twinkling. Kate was searching for something to say, when a look of concern came over Julia’s face.

“Oh, Lordy! You mean to tell me you haven’t bedded that gorgeous man?” Then, to herself, “Ole Julia’s put her foot in it again.” She took Kate’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Kate wondered if she was sorry for what she’d said, or sorry that Kate hadn’t slept with Mike. A little of both, she suspected, and smiled. “It’s all right. You couldn’t know.”

“I am
constantly
opening my mouth without thinking.”

“I’ve been accused of the same thing. Don’t apologize.”

Kate liked this woman who reminded her of a Southern Lauren Bacall. It struck her that she hadn’t met anyone new in a very long time, and that she’d been missing out. This was someone she wanted to get to know.

Mike could hear the easy conversation between the two women as they made their way to the back of the house, and he smiled. He stood as they entered through the batwing doors. “Well, I guess it’s safe to leave now?” He spoke to Kate.

Julia watched the two interact with great interest.

“I think so,” Kate answered, taking her briefcase from him.

“What time do you want me to pick you up?”

Kate looked at Julia, then back at Mike. “I’m not sure. Why don’t I call you?”

“Good enough. Julia? Neil Shafer from the foundation said he’ll be dropping by this afternoon to see how the inventory is progressing.”

“That’s fine, Michael. Thank you,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Oh, Michael? Did you remember to bring me that article?”

“It’s in the truck. I’ll get it.”

“I’ll save you a trip.” Julia took his arm as they walked out of the kitchen. Over her shoulder she said, “Be right back, sugar.”

As Mike handed Julia the July issue of
Historic Preservation
, she said, “I’m disappointed, Michael.”

“What about?”

“You didn’t tell me you were in love with her. Now all my hopes are dashed.”

Mike smiled. “I think you and I took it as far as either one of us was willing to go at the time.”

Julia studied his face, then said, “Yes, I suppose the gazebo at Neil’s house wouldn’t have been the best choice.”

Mike chuckled. “It was fun. Right up till the moment his son found someone else in his own personal make-out spot.”

Julia laughed. “The look on his little girlfriend’s face really told the tale, didn’t it? Well, honey, thanks for Kate. It must be hard to part with her.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile. “Oh, that it is.” Leaning closer, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Me, too, sugar. Hope everything else does.” She winked and turned up the walkway.

Julia was more than a little disappointed. Michael Fitzgerald would have been a pleasant diversion. Okay. Truth be told, he would have been much more than that. But she could see the situation was hopeless. He had
that look of a man helplessly in love. What she hadn’t realized until she’d met Kate was that he was suffering with it. A man like that shouldn’t have to suffer.

Kate was eating her way through a mouthwatering crab omelet that Julia had prepared for lunch, the spinach salad that accompanied it long gone. The inventory had progressed only through the living and dining rooms. There were so many treasures in Julia’s collection—and so many fascinating stories behind them—that Kate found herself doing more listening than cataloging.

“Julia, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Not at all. My life is an open book.”

“How long have you been divorced?”

Julia arched an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m divorced?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just assumed …”

“I lost Jeffrey five years ago. Heart attack. No warning. He was only forty-six years old. Which, by incredible coincidence, is my age now.”

She’d said it all so matter-of-factly that Kate didn’t know how to react. Everything about this woman was surprising. Kate recovered, and quickly said, “I’m so sorry, Julia.”

“Well, I’d rather be forty-six than not,” she teased.

“Jesus, Julia. You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, sugar. And thank you.”

Kate hesitated, then asked, “Were you happy? You and your husband?”

“Very. We had our disagreements, but look who he had to live with.” Julia grinned mischievously. “And we went through a few rough periods. Listen, sugar, do you mind if I smoke? Eating takes away all my resolve.” Kate shook her head and Julia got up to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from a drawer. Lighting one, inhaling deeply, she went on. “But all in all, it was a wonderful ride. Short, but wonderful.”

“How short?”

“Jeffrey died a few months before our sixth anniversary.”

“Only six years …” Kate breathed.

“Took me a long time to find him. And, no, we didn’t have any children.” She watched Kate shut down. Wondered how long it would be before she confided in kind.

Julia Parrish already knew Kate’s story. Not many people in Staunton didn’t. But she wanted to hear it from her own lips. When Mike told Julia it was Kate Armstrong who would be helping out with the inventory, he told her the subject of Paul was very touchy.

Kate was beginning to sense a setup. “Tell me something, Julia. How long have you known Mike?”

Julia’s mouth formed an O and she blew a perfect smoke ring. Then, as if reading Kate’s mind, said, “Don’t worry, honey. He didn’t ask me to talk to you. Staunton’s a small town. Everyone knows everybody else’s business. I just wanted to let you know I’ve been through it. And if you ever want to talk, well, I’ll listen.” Crushing the cigarette into a Wedgwood ashtray, she pushed her chair back. “Think we should get back to work? Wouldn’t want Mr. Shafer to get here and find us with idle hands.”

Mike picked Kate up at four.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Good. It was fun. We didn’t get very far, though.”

“Yeah, Julia’s a talker. What do you think of her?”

“She’s fascinating. I really like her. She’s a beautiful woman.”

“She surely is that,” Mike said, reaching over to adjust the heater.

A small prick of jealousy stung Kate, and she glanced at Mike. But his face was unreadable and on the ride home she asked about the work he’d done on the house instead of the question she really wanted him to answer.

“L
ooks like snow, sugar. Better pack it in for the day.”

Julia Parrish stood at the library window, the smoke from her cigarette hovering over her head like a miniature wraith. Kate didn’t look up from the Rozenburg vase she was examining, too wrapped up in her work to hear Julia’s statement.

“Where and when?” Kate asked, holding up the delicate piece of porcelain.

“Here and today.”

Kate finally raised her head. “Huh?”

Julia smiled. “Snow. Today. We’d better quit now, or you’ll get caught in it.”

Kate joined Julia at the window just in time to see the first fat flakes drift down.

“Any plans for the weekend?” Julia asked as they walked to the front door.

“Nothing special. With this snow I’ll be stuck inside anyway. You?”

“An old friend of the family is driving down from DC to keep me company.” She peered outside. “I hope he got away before it started coming down.”