Instructions for Love (7 page)

In the hall bathroom, she found another old free-standing lavatory and a built-in modern shower. A stained-glass window high up in the wall attracted her eye. This diamond-shaped window was smaller than the one in the master bathroom, its glass portions creating a single pink rose. After sunup this morning she’d seen that the window in the master bathroom held pieces of glass creating roses in varying colors. Someone connected to this house had surely admired those flowers.

Erin cleaned her hands and returned to the kitchen. Dane was drying his hands near the sink, and Mom Bea was filling glasses with ice.

“Sit down, Erin,” Mom Bea said, “and see what you think.” She pointed to the chair next to the one at the end.

“You’ll join us?” Dane asked her.

“I nibbled enough while I was cooking.” She patted her round belly, her shirt tightly stretched across it. “But I’ll sit with y’all while you eat.”

Dane’s eyebrow raised a fraction. Mom Bea took the chair beside the one she’d indicated for Erin. After the ladies sat, Dane took the chair at the head of the table.

Mom Bea had set everything out. At Erin’s and Dane’s places, she’d served large bowls of gumbo filled with chicken and sausage, small pieces of okra with other seasonings, and rice. Beside their bowls sat smaller ones holding potato salad, and near those plates, saucers held chunks of French bread. A dish of butter sat beyond that, and she’d served all three of them tall glasses of tea.

“This looks like a feast,” Erin said. She moistened her throat with the icy drink and then tried a spoonful of warm gumbo. “My gosh, this is scrumptious.”

Mom Bea’s cheeks glowed.

Dane ate without looking at them, an occasional clink of his spoon the only sound from his place.

Erin found the potato salad especially tasty with sweet relish mixed into it and a surprising barely discernable tang of onion. The gumbo was a thick dark blend with rich tasting sausage, the chicken especially tender. “Mm, you made us such a special treat.”

“We eat like this all the time,” Mom Bea said, patting her belly. “Can’t you tell?”

Erin shook her head. “You aren’t too big.” And she wasn’t. Mom Bea’s size appeared perfect for her boundless personality. “I’ve had gumbo before,” Erin said, “but it didn’t taste anything like this.”

Dane made a small laugh. “If you ate it up north, it wasn’t real gumbo.”

Erin gave him a testy smile. “The menu said it was.”

He sniggered, his eye contact remaining with his food. He buttered a chunk of French bread and ate it.

Mom Bea broke the tense silence. “Erin, I love
Shadowed Lives
. I watch the show every day.”

“Thank you. We try to create interesting stories.” She glanced back at Dane. His face remained downward as though he only noticed his food, but his head made a small shake.

Erin felt a growl in her throat. Who did he think he was, judging her food, and now judging what she did for a living?

“The storylines are great,” Mom Bea said, her thick hands spreading apart expressively. “I love the way y’all make some of the cast die and then you bring them back to life, and then we find out they weren’t really dead all along. And everybody’s running around with everybody else and his brother. How interesting.”

Dane snorted. Erin was certain she heard him give the derisive sound, although when she glanced at him, he pretended total interest in the tea he swallowed.

Her temper flared. Maybe the gumbo was too hot. Surely she was.

Mom Bea touched her arm. “And that pretty Jessica Timberwolf is such a sweetheart, I’d like to make her a batch of my best date loaf. Is she really like that?”

Erin considered the blond beauty, the star of the show. If Jessica didn’t throw tantrums to get her way with producers, Erin would enjoy her job a whole lot more. Of course it wouldn’t be right to criticize the actress. “She can be nice,” she said, remembering once such time.

Mom Bea clapped her hands with delight. “I knew that was her real character.”

Scraping against the floor came from Dane’s chair. He’d pushed back in it. “Good meal,” he said when they looked at him. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Bea,” the squat woman at Erin’s side said as though finishing a sentence for him. “But don’t get up yet. I made some bread pudding.”

“No room for dessert.” He placed his hand over the top portion of his jeans.

Erin decided he had room for much more food. His stomach was washboard flat. His jeans had seen much wear, with parts of them fading.

She looked away. Mom Bea stared at her. Erin hoped neither the older woman nor Dane could tell of the unwanted sudden warmth she experienced. “I couldn’t eat anything else now either,” she told her elder, watching her smile diminish. “But I want to try it later.”

“Wonderful. You and Dane can eat some then and compare notes.”

Dane carried his used dishes to the sink but glanced back. He gave Mom Bea a raised eyebrow.

She made an angelic smile at him.

He turned around and rinsed his plate.

Both women gathered the other dishes. Erin leaned close to her elder, lowering her voice. “He eats all of his meals here?”

Dane made an abrupt turn. “Why shouldn’t I? I told you this is my house.”

Erin’s heartbeats sped. She wished her voice hadn’t carried. She wished this man wouldn’t act so certain that he’d get this entire place.

Maybe he would, once an attorney read a will. Erin’s mouth quivered when she recalled her aunt. If only she could see her again, feel Aunt Tilly’s arms around her and hear her laughter.

But she never would again.

Erin looked at Mom Bea, the sparkle in her blue eyes the closest she might ever come to finding the same motherly warmth she’d experienced with her aunt.

“Tilly wanted you to do some things, didn’t she?” Mom Bea asked, putting away the butter.

“Yes. The envelope you gave me had some requests from her.”

Dane washed his silverware. “You know she wanted Erin to see the place.” He glanced over his shoulder. “For some reason.” He surprised Erin by taking the used dishes from her hands. “I’ll get those.”

Erin smiled. He washed her things, and she found a wet sponge and used it to clean off the table.

Mom Bea stood with hands on wide hips, grinning at both of them. “And did you see everything here?”

Erin dropped breadcrumbs into the small trashcan. “I think so.”

“Did you check out this whole house? And view the gardens?”

Dane’s head snapped back, his eyes smoldering at Mom Bea.

What
was
his problem? Erin wondered. Did he have something to hide in this place? Or did his preponderance with believing himself the new owner make him believe no one could inspect the grounds without his permission?

Until this moment, Erin had entertained no desire to walk out around that vast space with the steamy humid air. Dane’s attitude made her change her mind.

“I didn’t see everything,” she told Mom Bea. “But I will.”

Silver fillings in the older woman’s rear teeth showed with her smile.

Erin had no idea what the man behind her was doing. No sound came of him washing dishes. She thought she could feel his warm breath on her back.

Dane needed to ask Erin what he’d hoped. “Did you read Tilly’s other papers to see what else she said?”

Erin stood in front of him when he turned from the sink. His mother, near the table, glanced from one to the other of them, listening intently.

“No,” Erin said. “I didn’t read past what she wrote as instructions for day one, which I imagine this is.”

“Day one,” Mom Bea said, and Erin couldn’t tell whether she was asking a question or repeating what she already knew.

Erin took it upon herself to explain. “Aunt Tilly asked me not to look at the next page until day two.”

Dane thought his mother’s grin and nod suggested that she’d already known what was in that letter.

He needed to get this Erin, with her unsettling presence, to hurry back to where she came from. But today she wasn’t rushing. Rolling his eyes up slightly, he considered how he might get her to leave faster. An idea came, brightening his spirits. “But Tilly probably meant for yesterday to be day one, since it was your first day here. So today would be day two. Why don’t you go get her letter and see what it says for the second day?” He hoped it said to go home and work at her job.

Erin stared at the floor, eyes blinking, the knuckles of her hand covering her mouth while she thought.

She raised her head and glanced at Dane’s mother. Already he was thinking the name
Mom Bea
instead of just
Mom
seemed to fit her just fine.

The happy nod she gave Erin made Dane satisfied. Her affirmation of his suggestion might make their visitor read more of the letter, where he hoped Tilly would’ve explained that the instructions on her first page had been for play. Tilly, like his mother, had a great sense of humor, something Dane thought he’d also had once, but lost somewhere along the way.

“All right. I’ll get the letter.” Erin spun and left the room.

When Dane no longer heard her footsteps, he clasped his mother’s arm. “What’s all this foolishness about?”

She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Foolishness? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her arms slid up and wrapped around him. She gave him a squeeze. “Hm, I do wish you’d eat more.”

She let him go and traipsed to the counter. Retrieving a thick towel from a drawer, she started to take dishes out of the drain. “I’ll just dry these and put them away for you.”

Dane stepped closer to her, his sneaky suspicion growing. “You never dry dishes. You’ve always let them air dry before you pick them up.”

She shook the dry towel in his face. “It’s the change,” she said, fluttering the towel down to her hip. “Maybe I’m becoming a new woman. And soon I might have a great new body.” Her laugh was loud and warm.

Dane couldn’t help but laugh with her.

Erin returned, her steps quiet, her expression solemn. She held Tilly’s loose-leaf papers in one hand, the manila envelope in the other. She leaned back against the doorjamb and looked at both of them. “I read her next page.”

Dane stared, anticipation building while she didn’t move. Once he could stand the wait no longer, he asked, “Can you tell us what she said?”

She held out the pages that were clipped together.

Even while he was taking them, Dane could see that only a few words had been written on the top sheet.

Erin, again I ask you not to read farther than this page today. You are such a sweetie. You are the little girl I never gave birth to. Always remember, I adore you.

Day Two Instructions: Catch a fish.

“That’s all?” Dane lifted the bottom of the sheet to see what came next.

Erin grabbed the papers from him. “On this page, yes. But as you can see, she didn’t want the next pages read yet.”

His mother waited quietly beside them. She didn’t ask, but Erin told her what the instructions said. His mother grinned. “We have fish,” she said. “Dane used to catch lots of them all the time.”

He tightened his lips, feeling like they were sputtering. What did Tilly mean by instructing Erin to do such a thing?

She stared at the top piece of paper. Her eyes turned up to meet his, and her expression looked vacant. Surely she missed her pleasant aunt. And with Tilly calling Erin the child she’d never had….

Dane took hold of her hand that gripped the papers. Her face flashed surprise, and he gave her hand a small squeeze. Her lips, staying tight, spread into a smile of appreciation.

“Well then,” his mother said, reminding Dane of her presence, “I’ll just go on.”

“Can’t you stay?” Erin reached out to her with the hand that Dane released.

His mom gave Erin a hug. “Not now. You have things to do. Remember, you didn’t finish inspecting the plantation. I’m sure Dane will help you.”

He shook his head at his mother but stopped its shake when Erin looked at him. She gave him a questioning smile.

He could only, with lips tight, smile back at her.

Chapter Eight

Erin and Dane walked out the dining room’s door with the short, sturdy woman. She hated to see Mom Bea leave. After they’d all told each other goodbye and the red truck sped off, Erin kept the impression that the matronly figure hadn’t only been a cook in this house.

The truck disappeared on the highway. Erin turned to Dane. “Well,” she said.

His gaze had been aimed at her but shifted away. He peered at the vast lawn, and Erin looked there, too. She had noticed the large trees before, but now recalling the instruction to inspect the plantation, stared at each one.

The greenery was unbelievable. She had often seen small plots of grass, but here the lawn appeared to extend forever, finally disappearing from view into a stretch of distant woods. Massive oaks cloaked with moss dripped from big branches, many like heavy shoulders extending all the way to the ground. A hammock hung from the branch of the closest tree, with a brick barbecue pit standing nearby. Scattered in patches across the lawn, yellow and purple irises stood healthy and tall. Banana trees flourished near the detached two-car garage with its doors raised. One car was parked inside. Erin peered at Dane’s truck in the driveway beside her rented car. Did his truck usually occupy the garage’s empty space? The late-model car in the garage must have been used by her aunt and Cliff.

Erin felt Dane in a space too close to her side. She shifted away and pointed to trees that looked similar. “What are those?”

“Pecan trees.”

“Do they bear?”

“Those trees have been responsible for too many batches of fudge and pecan pies to count.”

“Yummy.”

“Did you want to go out there?” he asked, tipping his head toward the lawn.

She stared out. The hammock lay limp. Not one breeze stirred the moss. Muggy air added to the heat of the early afternoon. “Not now, thanks. Everything about this whole place appears to barely move, and I’m used to the hub of the big city. Where’s your hub around here?”