Her mood switched again. She should have phoned him, but there was the small difficulty of not knowing the number. Asking Steve was out of the question. The trouble was, not everyone liked surprises. Still, she could wander over to the cabin, nonchalantly explain that her dad had asked her to come because he needed her help in the store. No. That wouldn't work. Better to be up front about her intentions. Especially as she didn't want to even
pretend
to go near her parents. What she wanted was to spend every second of the weekend with Paul. Get as much of him as possible. Then she'd be satiated, overstuffed, and finally satisfied. Come Monday she'd close the door on the whole episode, don her wig, get dressed in her proper Jade business suit and never open herself to that side of her nature again.
Tweety flapped just above her head, whistling a mocking tune.
You really believe you can do that?
She pressed her lips together and sent a telepathic message. “I'll flip you the bird, if you're not careful.”
Other people had solemn consciences. Why did she have to have this stupid bird?
⢠⢠â¢
The plane landed as smoothly as any waterfowl. In a few minutes Jade was on terra firma again.
A skinny, familiar figure lounged in the hangar, chewing gum. Her brother.
“What are you doing here, Adrian?” she asked in surprise.
“Duh,” He slouched toward her. “I came to meet you; what did you think?”
She shrugged. “I didn't let you know I was coming.”
“No, but I knew you'd be here for the party.”
“What party?”
Adrian looked at her strangely. “You suffering from a sudden case of amnesia? It's the parents' anniversary bash tonight.”
She blinked at him. “But that was supposed to happen
next
weekend.”
“Pam couldn't make it, and they wanted the bridesmaid there ⦠I wrote you an email. It sent okay.” He picked up her bag and they began walking toward the boat. “Didn't you get it?”
“No. For some mysterious reason, my email wasn't receiving. I expect the gremlins got it instead.”
“Let's hope they don't turn up at the party.” He dumped her bag in the boat and hit his forehead with a mock gesture of despair. “But they will! There's no escape. Like, the little terrors will be there with Granny Pam.” The sound of a hideous groan made her laugh â Adrian's Halloween special for scaring the daylights out of unsuspecting trick-or-treaters.
Jade reached out and tweaked his ear affectionately.
During the trip across the water, she tried to regroup, shifting her focus from seeing Paul right away to being with him later. Oh groan. She'd left behind the anniversary present she'd bought, a large, Provençal-style pottery dish, just perfect for serving Marigold's special vegetarian lasagna. Not only that, but the clothes she'd packed for seducing Paul were not suitable for a party. At lunch that day, she'd buttonholed Suzy and together they'd done a little shopping, including buying a new set of flimsy underwear.
At the top of the steps, she found Frank preparing the barbecue. He gave her a big hug.
“It's great you're here, kiddo,” he said.
Adrian held up her bag. “Drop this off inside for you?”
“Thanks. And for the welcome committee, too.”
“Let's call it a trade-off. You make sure to save me from the gremlins tonight, see.”
That made her chuckle.
The smell of garlic and olive oil greeted her as she walked into the house. Marigold and three friends had the small space humming with activity as they prepared for the party. In the kitchen, every possible surface was crammed with dishes and bowls and plates containing salads, breads, cheeses, and desserts. A couple of large quiches waited on the dining table, and two already marinated chickens were primed for the barbecue.
After giving her mom a kiss and a hug, Jade rushed to rummage in her closet. Surely she'd find something suitable to wear? Nope. Nothing but ratty old tee shirts and the threadbare denims she used for fishing. Now what?
Out in the hallway, she slid open the door to the closet that contained old and out-of-season clothes. At the bottom, an old box caught her eye. Adrian's LEGO sets. Just the thing for amusing those gremlins. She pulled it out, ready for the inevitable moment when a little distraction would be required.
Above the box hung a calico garment bag. She opened it. Dresses and caftans from Marigold's younger days looked decidedly unpromising, but Jade decided to go through them, in any case. To her delight she unearthed the perfect thing for a retro party: a garment she remembered her mother wearing years ago.
She unhooked the hanger and, facing the mirror, held the shiny, slinky, purple catsuit against her. Pursing her lips, she considered. Yes, this would do. Only problem was, she hadn't brought a strapless bra with her. She'd have to go without.
But first, she had to check with her mom.
Upstairs, Marigold said, with a reminiscent smile, “That old thing. It's too tight for me now. I guess I should have thrown it out years ago.” She stroked a small, tanned hand down the knitted fabric. “Of course you're welcome to wear it, Dipity.” Taking Jade's elbow, she drew her a little aside. “I wanted to invite Paul tonight and hoped he'd pop in at the store so I'd meet him, but he didn't. Why don't you give him a call?” Marigold brushed her ribbon-braided hair away from her face. “There's still time to invite him.”
“I don't know the number at the cabin.”
“Well, why not go and fetch him?”
How great it would be to have his company, especially when she'd imagined being there with him by now. If he were here, that would ease the frustration a bit. And he'd fit in with the crowd, she was sure. The local gossips might even stop their whisperings and wonderings as to why she never brought a man home. But no. If Paul came there would be difficulties. Making sure he only heard her pre-Jade, higher voice would overtax her ingenuity and could ruin the whole evening, not to mention causing all sorts of questions and comments among the guests. Apart from the problem of her voice, there was the greater danger of someone asking about her work.
Tempting, but ⦠.
“No, I don't think so. I need to help with everything here.”
“We can manage. There are too many helpers in this small house already.” Someone called Marigold over to answer a question, so Jade was spared having to explain herself any further. She went to help her dad set out the drinks and get the ice. He was looking rather strained, and she thought his bluff heartiness rang a bit false.
“Is something wrong, Dad?” she asked as they worked side by side.
Busy lining up the wine glasses, he spoke in a quiet voice.
“Don't say anything to your mother, but I'm a tad worried.”
“Oh?”
He sighed. “Yup. Looks like Kip really is going to sell the business. What I'll do if there's a new owner, I don't know.”
“Wouldn't they keep you on?”
“Who knows?” He pushed a glass nearer to the edge of the table and then back again. “Without Kip to attend to the business side of things, they might need to hire somebody. And there's not really enough in the single store to support two, let alone three. People today have such high expectations.” His voice sounded rueful.
“Don't you think Kip might offer the store to you?”
“He's made some noises in that direction. But again, I couldn't handle the business side of things.” He shook his head. “Oh well. No sense borrowing trouble. I'll put it out of my mind. For tonight at least.”
He crouched down to place a few bottles of pop into a plastic bowl containing ice.
Busy finding and setting out cutlery, Jade thought about her dad's situation. Despite the fact she helped out with the mortgage, if he lost his livelihood her parents would be in real difficulties. Local jobs were scarce.
There was nothing she could do about it at the moment. She headed into her room to change.
Four hours later, everyone had eaten. Most of the adults sat chatting and drinking in the living room, perched on any arm or chair they could find, while the teenagers hung out outside. The two gremlin terrors were marvelously quiet, busy with the LEGO sets Jade had found. Music wafted through the gathering dusk, the stereo playing sixties' golden oldies.
The Beatles belted out one of their early hits. Jade, in the midst of chatting to Pam, broke off. How much longer before she could make her escape and head over to the cabin, to Paul? Time, her precious, last-chance time, was passing. She couldn't endure the wait any longer.
“Pam, I'm so sorry. I need to have a word with Marigold.”
“Are you feeling all right?” the gray-haired woman asked.
“I'm not quite sure.”
Which, for once, was pretty much the truth.
Jade threaded through the thinning crowd. Most of the families with small kids had left. Only about a dozen of her parents' contemporaries and a few of Adrian's pals remained.
“Dipity dear” â her mother sent her a sunny smile â “I'm so happy we could all be together tonight.”
“Me, too. It's been a fun celebration. But I need to go now.”
Marigold's gaze grew intent. “Guess I know where.”
Jade nodded. “Across the water to Paul. I'll take the boat. Don't expect me back before Sunday.”
Marigold flung happy arms about her daughter and hugged her tight. Jade pressed her cheek against her mother's.
Marigold released her. “That's just wonderful. You know how I'm dying to have grandkids.”
The pang was brief but definitely there. Jade didn't have the heart to say there was no chance, that this would be the last hurrah.
“Take some muffins with you,” her mom urged.
After making a stop in the kitchen to do just that, Jade went to her room, picked up her bag and, watching her step, clomped down to the dock.
Deep night fell over the North Shore of Lake Huron. In the wooden fishing cabin, Paul shed his tee shirt and sank down on the edge of the bed. Over the past week he'd slipped into a very different rhythm of life, the old “early to bed, early to rise” routine instead of “late to bed, even earlier to rise” he'd been practicing. He sure felt better. More relaxed.
This morning he'd woken with a surging energy. Ever since last weekend, a new enthusiasm for living had been pumping through him. Outside, he'd relished the chance to appreciate the fresh air, the sunlight, the beauty of his surroundings. He'd done a bit of fishing, quite a lot of work on the piece of driftwood, and much contemplating â of nature, the meaning of life in general, and his life in particular. More and more he was getting the sense that drastic changes needed to be made.
At eight-thirty, the phone rang. Steve.
“Hi guy. What you up to?” His buddy's voice with its husky edge growled through the line.
“Me? I'm navel gazing.”
“Oh, I see. Those Canadian Coast Guards. They're always moored or chugging around somewhere out there.”
“No, I meant I'm contemplating life, mine in particular.”
“Sounds as if the cabin's doing the trick, then. But aren't you getting tired of solitude?”
“Not really. Only the right kind of company would do.”
“Sorry, I'll have to deprive you. I'm all tied up this weekend.”
“Please tell me it's not Maryanne.”
“Wellll ⦠”
“Some guys are devils for punishment.”
“You can talk. The day you stop working so hard I'll go cold turkey on her.”
“I'm chilling, so start preparing that bird for the freezer.”
After the call, he headed for bed to read the prizewinning novel he should have gotten to years ago. Trouble was, time had done that Latin
tempus fugit
thing.
Life was good. Only one thing could make it better, and that was to have a woman around â specifically, Serendipity.
Laying down the book he'd just picked up, Paul folded his hands behind his neck and leaned against the propped-up pillows, imagining her, wishing she'd suddenly manifest right there beside him. Come to think of it, he'd gladly sacrifice the book if it would be so obliging as to transform itself into the living, breathing Serendipity. But Steve wouldn't be too impressed if he told him he'd traded his original edition, a hard-backed copy signed by the author, for a mirage.
⢠⢠â¢
During the ride over the dark lake, all Jade's nervousness returned. The cooling air brought goose bumps to her skin. She was crazy to do this. If only she'd been able to go with her impulse earlier and not put it off until hours later, then maybe she wouldn't be in such a state now.
On reaching the resort, she secured the boat and walked for twenty minutes toward the cabin. Trudging along the narrow country road, bag in hand, she wasn't able to shake the fear Paul might not want her. On either side of her, trees clustered, huddling together, watching her take this uncharacteristic risk. Oh, it would be too dreadful if he rejected her.
Down the drive she walked, the gravel crunching under her sandals, as if complaining at being disturbed. Ahead, a light glimmered in the bedroom of the cabin. At least Paul was awake.
Standing on the doorstep, she shifted her bag to her other hand and knocked. Please God, don't let there be another woman in there with him.
She knocked again, louder this time.
The door flew open.
“What the â ”
Shorts riding low on his lean hips, lover-man stood there, tall and bare chested, his chin dark with a growth of stubble. He was frowning.
All she could do was gape like a ninny, stunned by the impact of his presence, thrilled throughout her body and her soul that he was actually standing in front of her, no illusion or creation of her overheated imagination, but a man of real flesh and blood. Real flesh. Oh yes.