Foolish Notions (17 page)

She smiled weakly when she sensed
James’s perceptiveness. “I think I’ll just grab a
little something in the fridge.” She eyed them both. “I
promise.”

“If you’re sure,”
Samantha said, not knowing what else to say. Marie was making it hard
to put up an argument. What was her rebuttal going to be? “No,
Marie, you don’t need any private time of your own”?

“Of course I’m sure. Now,
please go so I can soak in a long, hot bath.” She winked. “I
might even walk through the house naked.”

James shook his head, and then kissed
her cheek. “Lock the door when we leave and call my cell phone
if you need anything.”

“All right. Have a wonderful
evening.” Marie leaned against the closed door with a smile.

“Do you really want Chinese?”
James asked as he opened the car door for Samantha. He couldn’t
believe that he had just been thrown out of his own house, by him mom
no less, and he had a nagging suspicion that it wasn’t entirely
because she wanted to be alone. That woman was relentless.

She shook her head as she slid into the
soft leather seat. “No, not really.”

“Me neither. If we’re going
to be coerced to go out together so my mom can”—using his
finger, he made air quotes—“ ‘have some alone
time,’ we might as well go somewhere we’ll enjoy.”

She reached for the seatbelt and looked
up at him as he held the door open. “Do you really think we’ve
been smothering her?”

“I see her twice a day. I can
hardly call that smothering.”

“Perhaps I’ve been too
attentive.” Samantha said after James climbed into the car and
started it.

“No.”

She turned to him. “Are you sure?
I thought if I kept her busy it would take her mind off things. Maybe
I need to pull back a little.”

“You don’t need to pull
back. She enjoys every minute with you.” He turned onto the
street. “Don’t tell me you’re buying in to all this
alone stuff.”

“She sounded convincing.”

He sighed theatrically as he muttered
her name repeatedly under his breath.

Samantha smiled. “Stop. There’s
nothing wrong with being concerned.”

“No, there isn’t. But trust
me, I know my mom. So, where to?”

“I don’t care, you pick.”

“Okay. I have the perfect place
in mind.”

* * * * *

James requested a table located
outside. Once seated, Samantha took in her surroundings. The open
seashore was only several yards away. It was too dark to see the
water, but the roar that came from the unlit darkness made the
ocean’s presence known. The intense tang of salt wrapped itself
around them like a warm, familiar blanket.

The small candle placed in the center
of the table didn’t give off much light, but instead added a
cozy feeling. The tablecloth was stark white, floor length, and
danced against her legs in the soft breeze.

“I’ve never been here
before,” she said as she watched the flame of the candle
flicker.

“Neither have I. I just read a
review on it. It’s supposed to be excellent.”

“If the food is anything like the
ambiance, it will be wonderful,” she said as she glanced at the
huge potted palm trees that surrounded them. The long pointy leaves
sounded like a dozen baby ducks shaking as they dance in the breeze.

“I agree.”

A waiter appeared out of the dimly lit
area by the door and moved to James’s side. After a warm
greeting, he asked, “What may I get for you and the lady?”

James ordered a bottle of white wine
and some appetizers. He gave a concise nod as the waiter gave a short
bow and slipped away into the darkness between the two palms framing
the door.

Samantha leaned back in her chair to
look up at the sky. “It’s beautiful tonight.” The
moon was a hazy half crescent. The industrial clutter of civilization
that stretched for miles on either side of them went unnoticed. It
was as if the world started at the beach and extended outward into
infinity.

“Yes, it is.”

The breeze pushed her hair forward,
wrapping it against her face. “This is lovely.” She
turned her head, allowing her hair to blow in the opposite direction.
She laughed when the wind shifted and it covered her face again. She
gathered the strands at the base of her neck and held them firmly as
she reached for her purse.

“Don’t.” James’s
voice was like a velvet whisper in the night.

Samantha’s hand stopped rooting
around in her purse and she looked up. “What?”

He shook his head. “Please, don’t
pull it back.”

Samantha let go of the barrette in her
hand and set her purse to the side. She didn’t move when he
reached across the table and took hold of the hand that held her hair
firmly in place. The small gesture was temptation in itself.

“It’s beautiful when it’s
down.” James gently removed her hand. The breeze caught the
silky strands immediately, sending them flying in all directions. He
took a handful and held it.

“Your wine and appetizers.”
The waiter appeared from the darkness, carrying a tray.

James sat back and made room for the
food. He ordered for them both and when the waiter had gone he looked
back to Samantha. “Why are you smiling?”

“You remembered my favorite
entrée.”

He watched her for a moment. “I
remember everything you like.”

Samantha ran her hands over her arms
and looked out into the roaring darkness.

“Are you cold?” He stood
and began to take off his coat.

Samantha shook her head and motioned
for him to sit. “No. I’m enjoying it. Besides, my sweater
is in the car if I need it.” She lifted her hands into the air.
“It’s refreshing and stimulating.” She enjoyed the
breeze blowing over her for a moment and then finally said, “I
love it.”

“Yes, it is refreshing.”
There was something in her eyes that captivated him. They came alive
as she spoke in a vibrant, content voice. She swayed her arms
gracefully through the cool air in a simple gesture that made him
want to hold her close beside him.

“It’s invigorating, yet
relaxing at the same time.” She linked her fingers together as
she stretched them over her head and smiled. “I think that’s
why I love the ocean.” Her laugh was full and deep in her
throat. “I know that’s a little contradicting, but when I
hear the rhythm of the waves and the familiar scent of the air, all
my uncertainties vanish. There’s no stress when this surrounds
me.” She tucked her arms against her body as she rested them on
the table. “It’s comforting. But at the same time it
almost seems to recharge me.”

He poured wine into their glasses and
nodded. He knew what she meant. He always knew what she meant. She
made him feel what she was experiencing and sometimes no words were
even necessary. She drew him in, she always had. He envied how
carefree she was. How she could let everything go and simply enjoy.
That was what was missing from his life. He hadn’t simply
enjoyed anything in a long time.

“It’s like a child’s
favorite blanket.” She took the glass he offered and sipped.
“It’s a security that calms me almost instantly. It’s
not as easy to snuggle up to but it’s always there, consistent
and never-ending.” She shook her head delicately.

“Listen to me. I’m sorry
for carrying on.”

“Don’t apologize.” He
loved to hear her speak of things that meant something to her. It was
one of her qualities that he found endearing. She was passionate
about things that touched her and she never seemed to mind voicing
them. She used to be passionate about him, too. When he heard her
speak to others about him it left him speechless. He would savor
every word she used because each was so descriptive and heartfelt. It
never ceased to amaze him how much respect, admiration, and love she
held for him. Was it lost forever?

He reached for his glass. “A
toast, to my mom. May she beat her cancer.”

Samantha raised her glass and tapped
his lightly. “To Marie.” She took a sip and said, “And
she will beat it.”

“I know.”

She took another sip and set her glass
back down. “She had blood work done today. Her counts are lower
but still in the normal range.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“She goes in for her next round
in two days, providing her cell count remains good.”

“It’ll be a shame to see
all the vigor, she so obviously had today, gone.” He offered a
plate with square flaky pastries on it.

She nodded in agreement. “It’ll
be back.” She took a taste of the golden pastry. She savored it
for several seconds before she spoke. “This is heaven. You have
to try this.” Without thinking she reached across the table and
gave him a bite of hers. “It tastes like spinach and—”

His lips brushed her fingers as he
finished her sentence.

“Feta cheese.”

“That’s it.” She
popped the rest of the appetizer in her mouth—licking every
last flake from her fingers. “I think this is going to become
my new favorite restaurant.”

James reached across the table and with
his thumb brushed away the crumbs on her lips. “Mine, too.”
He allowed his thumb to linger a little longer than it should have.
It felt good to be with her like this. He felt like they were the
only two people in the world. Nothing existed but them and the
elegant restaurant. Bad memories and deadly diseases were worlds
away. Right now that’s what he needed. That’s what they
both needed.

When the waiter arrived to serve the
main course, Samantha’s eyes grew double in size as she looked
at the plate he set in front of her. “I’ll never be able
to eat all of this.” She laughed at the huge portion.

James eyed his plate. “I don’t
think I’ll have a problem with mine. After eating soup and
salad for weeks on end, I’m ready for this.”

“I’m not going to feel too
sorry for you.” She disregarded his pout. “Ginger said
she made several casseroles a week. And countless loaves of bread.”

The aroma had James’s mouth
watering before he’d even taken a bite. He reached for his
knife. “True. Mom and I would swarm around it like vultures.”
He chewed the first bite slowly, enjoying the flavor.

She laughed again as she drove her fork
into the huge pile of pasta covered in a spicy red sauce. “I
might be going to yoga class twice this week.”

Paul’s face popped into James’s
mind. The man was a nuisance. He pushed the image aside. “I
know it’s not part of your job, but I can’t tell you what
a relief it’s been having you fix the meals.” He took
another bite, chewed, and then swallowed. “I know Mom hasn’t
been eating much over the last few months but I was struggling just
to remember to go shopping once a week, much less trying to remember
that she eat.”

“You know I don’t mind. I
enjoy cooking.”

James took a long sip of wine. “I
appreciate it.”

Samantha smiled up at him. Her eyes
darted to his breast pocket when she heard the low ring of the cell
phone. “Is it Marie?”

James just shook his head in irritation
as he glanced at the number. “Taylor.” He listened for a
few seconds. “Couldn’t this have waited until morning?”
There was another pause. “I’m listening . . .”

Samantha leaned in and whispered. “It’s
fine. Take the call.”

The authority and control in his voice
as he spoke was that of a powerful man. Impatience with the caller
caused the wrinkle across his brow to slowly etch its way into his
expression. When James felt her fingers softly glide over the crease,
everything inside of him loosened up. As she lowered her hand he
looked up to see her mouth the word “better” and wink.

All irritation vanished. She held a
power that could make him feel good regardless of the situation. He
took her hand in his, not wanting to lose the contact, and stared at
her fingers linked in his as he spoke. For this brief moment his
world was complete again. It didn’t matter that work was on the
line. Samantha was there when he got off the phone. It wasn’t
the dark solitude of his home or the endless amounts of work that
would be his only place to turn. Samantha, once again would provide
that much-needed balance for him. “As long as we disclosed it
in the contract, we’ll be fine.” He paused. “Have a
copy faxed to me by morning and I’ll go over it.” There
was another moment of silence. “Relax, this isn’t going
to be a problem.”

“Everything okay?”

James returned the phone to his pocket.
“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

He watched her for a moment. “Of
course.” And if it wasn’t he would make it. That’s
what he did. He made sure things ran smoothly. “Now, where were
we?”

She tore off a chunk of bread and
dipped it in a pool of sauce. “You were thanking me profusely
for my culinary skills.”

“Was I, now?” He smiled.
“You’re much better at creating a meal than you are a
flowerpot constructed of shells.”

She bit the bread and looked up. “It’s
a lovely pot.”

“Yes, I must look at it daily now
that it adorns my mantel.” He watched her closely. “Did
you put it there on purpose to torture me?”

“I merely suggested to Marie that
I thought it would look nice there. She agreed.” She dabbed her
napkin against her lips.

“That was wonderful.”

“Dessert?”

She shook her head. “I don’t
think I could eat another bite. I could use a warm cup of coffee,
though.”

As James spoke with the waiter,
Samantha rose and moved to the railing. They were completely alone
now. The other couple that had arrived halfway through their meal
left moments before. She closed her eyes and let the breeze blow her
hair back and caress her face like a thousand gentle fingers. She
felt James come up from behind her and drape his coat over her
shoulders. She didn’t refuse it this time. It was big, it was
warm, and it was him. It smelled like him, a deep, warm, exotic
scent. The touch was him, ardent and protective. It felt good and
familiar. It was like he was holding her, but without having the
contact that she feared would drive her crazy. Feeling him watching
her, she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why are you
looking at me like that?”