Always Florence (18 page)

“Hunter, if she loves you and you love her, you’ll figure it—”

“No,” he said simply. “I’m not going to let her assume part of my debt.”

“And she doesn’t get that?”

He grinned mirthlessly. “Not at all. She figures that means I don’t really love her, and that I don’t want to marry her because I don’t want to take on two little girls.”

“I suppose you’ve tried to explain how you feel?”

“You’ve seen her in action. You don’t explain to Sandy. You listen or you comply with whatever it is she wants.” He shook his head and straightened. “Well, she’s not going to win this one. Come on. Let’s go get some of that pizza before Jonni and Karen eat it all.”

* * *

O
N
W
EDNESDAY
,
THERE
was an afternoon Christmas musical program at school. Bobbie, Dennis and Stella went together and Nate arrived just before it began.

Sheamus seemed more interested in the room’s architecture than singing, but Dylan was into it, working his bracelet of bells in accompaniment to the tune. End of the year was exhausting for accountants, but Nate felt grateful to have this pure moment of Christmas cheer.

After the concert, he hurried to say hello to Stella, shook hands with Dennis and was pleasantly surprised when Bobbie caught his hand.

“Hi,” she said softly. “I don’t suppose you have time to talk?”

He glanced at his watch and shook his head apologetically. He’d have done anything to be able to say yes, but he had a call scheduled with the Binghams’ IRS agent, who was beginning to see things their way. “I’m sorry. I’ve got an important date with the IRS in about fifteen minutes. Can we talk tonight?”

“Sure. You’ve been coming home late the last few nights. End-of-the-year deadlines, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Roberta Louise, have you been spying on me?”

“Yeah. Just a little.”

“Well, I’ll be on time tonight.”

“All right, I’ll see you then. Go, so you’re not late for your call.”

He wasn’t, and it went well. Nate packed up his briefcase just before five, feeling victorious and really, really satisfied. The IRS had accepted the Binghams’ offer and the reverse mortgage process had begun.

In a happy mood, he now focused on what it was Bobbie might want to talk about. Still distracted by the thought, he locked the office door behind him and started off in the direction of his car, until the blare of a horn stopped him. He looked up to find a familiar red truck parked in front. The passenger door swung open and Bobbie leaned across the seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other beckoning to him.

“Hey, sailor,” she said with a flirtatious batting of her eyelashes. She wore a white turtleneck with a silver snowflake pendant around her neck. “Can I take you somewhere?”

He stared, wondering if he’d heard her correctly. She really did want to talk. “Ah...”

“Stella and my father are with the boys,” she coaxed. “Nothing to worry about. My dad’s a doctor.”

Nate put a hand to his heart. “I feel like
I
need a doctor. You’re sure you have the right sailor?”

“I’m positive,” she said with flattering certainty. “Get in before I embarrass us both by hauling you in.”

He slipped his briefcase behind the seat and climbed into the front, his heart palpitating just a little. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I told you we need to talk.” She checked her side mirror and pulled into traffic. Darkness had fallen and Astoria’s rush hour was fully in play. Headlights swerved around them and a horn honked loudly. “I want to take you to one of my favorite places.”

He buckled his seat belt. “We’re going to Florence?”

She drove with scary abandon. Or maybe he was dreaming and the world was flying past him.

“No.” She laughed lightly. “There’s an overlook on Grand where I always stop on my way home from school. I’d like to share it with you.”

“You want to share something special with me,” he taunted gently, holding on as she drove hell-for-leather. “You who insists that this relationship can never be anything but—”

“Yeah, well, that’s all about to change.” She smiled at the road. “If you still want it to, that is?”

If he still wanted it to change. He had to lean back and draw a breath. And that had nothing to do with the fact that they nearly rammed a camper moving too slowly for her. She swerved and roared ahead of it.

“So, you’re telling me you’re...staying?”

“Would you like me to?”

She made a quick right turn and drove up the Sixteenth Street hill to Grand and turned right again. She pulled up in the middle of the block and parked where a deep lawn attached to the Grandview B and B sloped down, clearing a dramatic view of rooftops and the Columbia River. It was breathtaking during the day. Tonight, several cargo ships had dropped anchor in the channel, waiting for space to offload upriver in Portland. They were brilliantly lit under a rare starry winter sky, their glow reflected in the water.

She was out of the truck before he could do the gentlemanly thing and hold her door. She ran around the hood, caught his hand and drew him to the edge of the lawn. “Look at that!” she breathed, awe in her voice. “I’ll never get used to how magnificent that is. I’ve painted it in my mind a dozen times, but I have to really do it when all my work responsibilities are met. I’ve decided that I can’t leave it.” She tightened her grip on his hand and turned to look up at him. “Or you.”

She added the last two words very softly. He was sure he’d misheard her.

“Did you say,” he asked, barely breathing, “that you didn’t want to leave me? Nathan Jeremy Raleigh. Me?”

Her face was lit by the spotlights surrounding the B and B. Her eyes were a little anxious, but filled with a wonderful softness as they looked into his.

“I love you, Nathan Jeremy Raleigh,” she said, without pausing for breath, “and while I was sure for so long that any deviation from my Italy plan was lax and cowardly, I just realized that I promised
myself,
and that I can cut
myself
some slack. Plans can change when events warrant it, no matter how true to yourself you want to be.”

She turned to place her hands at his waist and lean into him. The tender surrender of that action touched him to the center of his being.

He looped his arms around her. She felt so slight in his embrace. He had to hear the words. “So, you’re staying?”

Her eyes widened. “Do you still
want
me to stay?”

“More than I want my next breath.”

She wrapped her arms around him and held on. “Then I’m staying. But I’d like to reserve the right to go to Florence for a month one summer. Maybe take you and the boys with me.”

He’d never been the kind of man who’d been able to get in touch with his feminine side. All he’d ever found there was the desire for more hot wings, more football, a greater need to keep emotional stuff close to his core. The boys might have forced him to dig deep and find a paternal side, but there wasn’t much female about that. Still, tears bit the backs of his eyes.

Nate blinked quickly and rested his cheek atop her head. Her hair was silky and smelled of pomegranate. “Bobbie, is that a proposal?”

Puzzlement puckered her forehead. She seemed to be thinking back. “Didn’t
you
propose to
me?
”

“When?”

“Um...I don’t know. I mean, you’re always saying we should be together. Hmm. You never did ask me?”

“Not in so many words, but let me correct that. Bobbie, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she replied in a breathless voice.

“Then, yes,” he said. “I’ll marry you, too.”

“Good. That’ll work best.”

* * *

A
RMS
STILL
ENTWINED
, they looked into each other’s eyes and, curiously, she giggled and he laughed. It had been such an ordeal to get to this point.

She grew suddenly serious. “What we have to talk about sometime is the boys. I mean, they know I was sick, but they should be gently prepared in case...”

He squeezed her to him to stop her. “You know, anyone can die at any time. I don’t know that it’s necessary to make them worry about it when your foreseeable future is bright.”

She seemed about to disagree, then nodded. “It’s your call.”

He held her even tighter, feeling humbled yet fiercely possessive. “You’re always saying you don’t have forever, but I think the only way to approach our lives is as though we do. And who knows that we don’t?”

* * *

S
HE
SO
WANTED
to believe that. In fact, at that moment, she did. All the cavalier acceptance of a shortened life was gone and she wanted to reach old age with Nate more than she’d ever wanted anything.

“You’re right,” she said, reaching up to kiss him again. “We’ll operate on the belief that we do have forever, and that Florence will always be there.”

His loving gaze ensnared her. Love rained over her, wound around her, seeped into her pores and probably changed the construction of her DNA. It might even have killed her cancer, she felt so changed.

He leaned over to kiss her thoroughly. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said. She loved that light in his eyes. But then she couldn’t see his eyes because he was kissing her again.

When he finally came up for air, they both laughed. He hesitated before suggesting, “Since the boys are well cared for, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

They were heading toward her truck when she stopped suddenly, remembering Crystal and her family. “Oh! I wanted to tell you about a little girl in my art class,” she said.

“Yes?”

Bobbie explained about Crystal’s father.

“Okay.” Nate frowned. “I can get them food and presents for Christmas. I’m not sure I can do anything about her dad’s jail time, but there might be someone in Sandy’s office who could help. I’ll call her.”

“That would be wonderful.”

His frown deepened. “Did you know she and Hunter are off? At least for the moment. He’s broke and worried about how to support them if they got married, and she insists she’s working so it shouldn’t be a problem. She doesn’t want to wait. But he doesn’t want her to take on his debt from the embezzlement. They’re at an impasse.”

So that was it. “I wondered what was going on. She hasn’t answered my calls. Darn.” Bobbie gave Nate a wan smile. “Isn’t there someone in your arsenal of friends who can fix
that?
”

“I wish. Let’s celebrate
us
right now. Come on, I’ll take you to The Rio. Please drive carefully. We have a lot to live for and you’re a bit of a cowgirl behind the wheel.”

She laughed and kissed him soundly. “I love you, Nate. Do you want me to pick you up at work Friday to help decorate the Banker’s Suite, or will you have time? I know you have deadlines.”

“Hunter volunteered to stay and work. I imagine he’d rather put in overtime than have to deal with Sandy. I’ll have to go home and change first, so I’ll drive you.”

“You’re afraid of my driving, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You keep gasping.”

“You keep tailgating and cutting people off. But I adore you.”

“It’s a good thing I adore you, too, or I’d be offended.”

He laughed and climbed into the truck as she ran around to the driver’s side.

* * *

A
FTER
DINNER
, B
OBBIE
drove Nate to his car, then headed home. Nate returned just after she did, freeing Stella and Bobbie’s father of their babysitting duties. Dennis walked into the kitchen and stopped in the doorway as Bobbie puttered with the teakettle. His blue eyes were wide with anticipation, since she’d shared her plan for the evening with him.

“Well?” he asked.

She threw her arms around him and held him fiercely. “You’re going to get to pay for a wedding, Dad!”

He cheered loudly and lifted her off her feet.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

B
OBBIE
WENT
TO
Sandy’s Thursday night with a Christmas movie for the girls, a bottle of white zinfandel and a big bag of Cheetos. Sandy did not seem happy to see her.

“I’ve got so much to do before tomorrow.” She pointed to a kitchen table covered with gold stars and several rolls of fishing line. “I have to—”

“I’m here to help,” Bobbie said, trying to push her way in.

Sandy stopped her. “You’re here to talk about Hunter and I don’t want to.”

Bobbie stood her ground. “A year ago when I didn’t want to talk about my fear of dying, you made me do it. You said you’d read that it was important to face it, then put it aside. Well, that’s what you have to do with Hunter. Let’s talk and see if it’s something that can be fixed, and if it can’t, he’s not the only wolf in the forest.”

Sandy blinked. “Wolf in the forest?”

“Fish in the sea is so cliché. Especially in Astoria.”

Sandy rolled her eyes and let her in. The girls jumped up and down when they saw her because she usually brought presents. They were ecstatic with the movie. Sandy went into the living room to start it for them. When she returned, she handed Bobbie a spool of fishing line and a pair of scissors. “I need ten two-foot lengths, ten eighteen-inch lengths and about twenty twelve-inch lengths. We’re going to tie them to the stars and attach them to the Banker’s Suite ceiling.”

Bobbie put the wine in the refrigerator and the Cheetos bag on the counter. She reached for a yardstick on the far side of the table and sat down to work.

“He doesn’t love me,” Sandy said, reaching for a box of plain ornaments in red, green, gold and silver. She applied a sticker to each one. It read “An Old Astoria Christmas.”

“You know that isn’t the problem,” Bobbie scolded gently as she reeled out a length of line. “Are those ornaments table favors?”

“Yes. And how do
you
know what the problem is?”

“Nate told me.”

She looked indignant. “Hunter told
him?
”

“Well, of course. He’s entitled to a confidant. He’s as upset as you are. He’s just trying to do the noble thing, Sandy.”

“I know. But if we wait until he can support us without me helping to pay off his old debts, we’ll never be able to be together. What purpose does that serve? He gets to maintain his pride while the girls and I go without a husband and father?”

Bobbie smiled at her patiently. “It isn’t simply pride. He knows you’ve worked hard to take care of the girls on your own, and he doesn’t want you to have to take on his problems.”

Sandy dropped an ornament back on the table and started to cry. “I thought this was going to work,” she wept. “I thought I’d finally found someone who’d be the kind of man I was looking for when I got married the first time.”

“Come on. You’re mad at him because you can’t have your way. That isn’t fair. Give him a little time to come up with a solution.”

“And what would that be that wouldn’t take us into old age?”

“I don’t know, but miracles happen all the time. And it’s the season. Don’t be angry at him for refusing to use you.”

Sandy put both hands over her face and continued to sob. “I just want to love him.”

“Trust is part of loving. Trust him to find a solution and don’t just walk off because you can’t have it all your way.”

Sandy glared at her. “You’re going to Italy and leaving a wonderful man and two of the cutest little boys behind so you can have things
your
way.”

Bobbie enjoyed being able to deny that. “Actually, I’m not. I’m staying with Nate and we’re getting married.”

Sandy sat a moment in stunned silence, then screamed. Her daughters came running in to see what had happened. Still sobbing, she wrapped Bobbie in a bear hug, then drew the worried girls between them. “I’m so happy for you! Oh, that’s wonderful! But what made you change your mind?”

“Love, I guess. It’s so strong.” Bobbie rubbed that spot in her chest where warmth had invaded the day she’d met Nate, knowing for certain now that it wasn’t radiation burn. “I still want to be a fine artist, want it passionately, but I’ll have to find a way to do that while being a wife and mother.”

“Oh, Bobbie. And the best part is you’ll be nearby. Do you think your dad will move here?” Sandy narrowed her eyes and asked cautiously, “Is there something going on between him and Stella?”

“Friendship, at this point.” Bobbie laughed and hugged her again. “He’s talking about joining Doctors Without Borders and she really likes working for Nate, so while they love being together, I don’t know that anything immediate is going to happen. She plans to visit him in the spring in California.”

Sandy pushed Bobbie gently back to the table. “You get to work again, I’ll open the wine and we can plan your engagement party! I’ll bet Laura will be excited. Anything new with her on the baby front?”

Bobbie reeled out more fishing line and began cutting. “I got a Happy Thanksgiving text from her, but I haven’t heard from her since. She hasn’t even answered my cell phone messages. They’re probably busy with Christmas stuff.”

“Maybe you should call Sean.”

“I will.”

Bobbie attached a length of line to a large gold foil star and held it up to be sure it was the right length. It bobbed and spun and caught the light in a way that portrayed the warmth of the season—the warmth she felt. She couldn’t recall ever being this happy.

* * *

“B
OBBIE
! G
UESS
WHAT
happened?” Crystal came to wrap her arms around her as their last art class began.

Fernanda distributed large envelopes on which Bobbie had placed Christmas stickers. “When you’re finished with your ornaments,” she told the class, “put them in here to keep them from getting messy.”

“What happened?” Bobbie asked in a whisper as Fernanda went on to give them instructions about putting their names on the envelopes.

“Santa came!” The little girl’s eyes were enormous, her cheeks pink with excitement. “I didn’t get to see him. And I don’t know why he came early. But he brought dolls for me and my little sister, jackets for us and my mom, and lots and lots of food. And he did something with the furnace, too, ’cause Mom turned it on so we could get warm!”

Bless Nate and his connections, Bobbie thought with a swell of pride and gratitude. “Wow! That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah! And my dad gets to come home for Christmas!”

That was beyond anything she’d hoped for. “Really?”

“Yeah. He has to go back afterward. But he might not have to stay as long as we thought.” She hugged Bobbie again. “He’s going to love my ornaments.”

“Yes, he is!”

The bell rang more than an hour later, announcing the end of school until after the holidays and the final art class. Children ran out of the room yelling their goodbyes and waving at her as they passed. Crystal stopped to give her another hug.

“Bye, guys!” Bobbie shouted back, a little off balance at how disappointed she was that this was the end. But it didn’t have to be, she realized with a sudden burst of excitement. She wasn’t going anywhere. She could teach this class again next fall. Or possibly offer art classes during the year. “Merry Christmas!” she called.

Fernanda helped clean up cookie crumbs and cocoa cups, and put the room back in order. She retrieved her coat and purse, then wrapped her arms around Bobbie. “I’m going to miss you,” she said. She pulled a small gift out of her purse and showed her that the tag with Bobbie’s name was the back side of her husband’s business card.

“If you are staying after all, call Joel. I think you’d be brilliant at art therapy. Merry Christmas.”

Bobbie stood alone for a few minutes in the empty classroom, rain pouring against the windows, and thought about how much she’d enjoyed this time. Art therapy. That was so not where her dreams lay, but she’d loved the sparkle she’d seen in the children when they’d become involved in their projects, and she couldn’t deny it had ignited something in her.

She put a hand to her eyes and drew a deep breath, dizzy with the sudden spin her life had taken. She needed quiet and maybe even solitude to think about Fernanda’s suggestion, but the Christmas season wasn’t the time to hope for that.

She glanced at her watch. There was time to do a little shopping and wrap presents before Nate picked her up tonight. She’d conscripted her father and Stella to help decorate.

By ten that night the Banker’s Suite, a beautiful space to begin with, was a re-creation of Christmas in Old Astoria, as the fund-raiser’s theme promised. Floor-to-ceiling photographs from the nineteenth century had been affixed to foam core and stood up against the walls as though the old downtown had been brought inside. Lights had been inserted in every window in the photos, and Bobbie had led a group of artistic volunteers in adding color to the figures visible in windows and on the street.

Old nets had been strung along the sides with additional photos of the waterfront, and the items to be raffled were placed in front of the shops.

Chunky Christmas garlands stretched from wall to wall, just as they did across Commercial Street, and several old globed streetlamps salvaged from Astoria City Hall’s basement provided lighting. The foil stars Bobbie had worked on at Sandy’s now dangled from the ceiling and twisted gently in the air, catching the light. The atmosphere was touchingly nostalgic.

Everyone stood in a large knot in the middle of the space and gazed around in awed silence until Clarissa said, “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” Applause and whoops of satisfaction followed.

Then the weary group dispersed. Nate caught Bobbie’s hand. “We’re all going to Mr. Fultano’s for pizza. Okay with you?”

“Sure. Who’s everybody?”

“Your father, Stella, Jerry Gold and his wife, Clarissa, a lot of the crew. But Sandy has to get home to relieve the babysitter.”

“Oh. But she’s worked so hard.” Bobbie turned to see her friend placing the ornament favors on the tables.

“I know. She told Libby she was too tired to party. You can’t fix everything, Bobbie.” Nate put an arm around her, caught her neck in the crook of his elbow and pulled her toward him to kiss her temple. “Come on. You’re okay with anchovies on the pizza, right?”

“I absolutely am
not.
Or olives. I can pick olives off, but anchovies leave a taste. No anchovies!”

He tightened his grip ever so slightly at her emphatic refusal. “Well,” he said with sudden gravity. “I’m glad I found this out before we got married.”

“You’re telling me anchovies are a deal-breaker?”

“No.” He lowered his head to kiss her lips. “But I guess we have to take them off the reception menu.”

* * *

N
ATE
COULD
NOT
recall feeling so... He didn’t have a word for it. He
had
to cultivate that feminine side. A woman would probably have a word for happiness that seemed to color everything, even the things one was usually
un
happy about.

But it was all right. He didn’t have to define it; it was wonderful, a life-revelation to simply feel it. And he did every time he looked at Bobbie in the red dress that hugged her tiny waist and small breasts, with the skirt that floated out around her and whispered when she walked.

Holding her in his arms while they danced in this holiday fairyland was exquisite. Her small body nestled comfortably against his and filled him with a sense of possession he knew he could never express aloud. It wasn’t that he wanted to own her, but to protect and indulge her—a thought he knew she’d hate as much as the sense of possession.

“You’re very quiet,” she observed as they swayed to a bluesy Sinatra medley played by a local band. Couples in elegant dress danced around them, many talking and laughing, but some, like him, overtaken with the mood, the ambience and the partner in their arms.

In the middle of the room, Dennis and Stella chatted happily, arms wrapped around each other, smiles on their faces.

Hunter talked and laughed with Jerry Gold and his wife, who were out for the first time since the baby was born—if you didn’t count pizza after decorating the night before—and Sandy danced very decorously with a senior partner in the firm she worked for.

“I’m afraid to speak,” Nate admitted.

“Since when?” Bobbie teased.

“Since I’ve started having possessive thoughts. You’d misunderstand.”

She surprised him by smiling. “No, I wouldn’t. You don’t mean you think of me as chattel, but that your heart wants to own me. Two very different things.”

“How very insightful of you!”

She pretended modesty. “It’s nothing. My father explained it to me.”

That surprised Nate again. “How does he know?”

“Oh, it seems you’ve been looking at me possessively for a long time. Ah! Time for the raffle. I want the winter wardrobe from Clarissa’s! I bought ten tickets!”

They went back to their tables when the music stopped, and Clarissa called Sandy up to draw names from a large basket decorated with a Christmas bow. She held it up so that Sandy couldn’t see inside.

Jerry Gold produced a cobalt-blue scarf, which Clarissa explained represented the winter wardrobe from her store. He then wound it around his throat and threw the long, beaded end over his shoulder with great style. Everyone laughed, then fell silent. Sandy reached up into the basket and handed Clarissa the folded square of paper she’d chosen. Clarissa opened it and read, “Cecelia Moreno!”

Bobbie stared in disbelief, then squealed delightedly. Nate whispered in her ear, “That’s not your name, Bobbie!”

She turned to wrap her arms around his neck. “I know! That’s Crystal’s mom! I bought a few tickets for their family.”

She went to accept, explaining to Clarissa that the winner wasn’t present. Jerry wrapped the blue scarf around Bobbie’s neck and Clarissa handed her a silver-and-black gift certificate.

Item after item was handed out. Bobbie’s father won a barbecue, Jonni jumped up and down over a golden Labrador puppy from a local breeder, a very cheerful older woman with a sequined poinsettia in her hair won one of Nate’s free tax returns. He groaned.