Love With A Stranger (16 page)

As Cass glanced about their surroundings, she noticed another man. He seemed to be watching her and averting his gaze every time she looked in his direction. She could not recall ever meeting him. She tensed as she wondered if it was a television or newspaper reporter who would do a story about her painting the town red so soon after her husband’s death. Perhaps it was a detective, as the investigation into Tom’s accident was still in progress as far as she knew. Perhaps he was nothing more than an inquisitive person who had seen hers and Tom’s pictures in the media or seen them together at some past occasion. Or perhaps it was just her imagination running wild again. No, Cass deduced, she was right, because the man’s female companion became aware of his behavior and twice traced his line of vision to see who had captured his attention. Cass told herself to ignore him, or he’d wonder why he was making her so edgy.

The musicians started to perform on the ragtime piano and assorted Dixieland instruments: drums, horns, tamborine, kazoo. Patrons with birthdays and anniversaries were serenaded. Some diners clapped their hands in time with the music and sang along to tunes of long ago. Others filled the dance area and spilled over into the nearby aisles as they made merry, which blocked the stranger’s view of her; and hers, of him.

After he finished eating, Jason put aside his fork and said, “I wouldn’t be a good host if I didn’t ask you ladies if one or both of you want to dance.”

“Not me in that crowd,” Linda responded in haste.

Cass smiled and said, “Put me on your card for another time, but thanks for the offer.” She would love to discover what it felt like to be held in his arms and to be pressed close to his body, but she didn’t think it would look proper tonight. To distract herself from his potent allure, she said, “I’m thinking
about getting involved in some local activities and perhaps starting tennis again when you give the okay, Doctor.”

“That sounds wonderful, Cass, but you should give yourself another week or so to get fully rested and to take care of any business matters. You don’t want to leap into new things too fast and exhaust yourself.”

“What about taking a course or two at Brunswick College later?” Linda suggested. “You could audit the classes of your choice. Or you could join some organizations or clubs, like the historical society. You said you wanted to learn more about this area.”

“You’re right, Linda, and I also need to learn my way around better. I think I’ll stop in at the Chamber of Commerce and the Visitor’s Center and pick up some packets of information.”

Linda gave directions to both locations, then added, “There are some old cotton and rice plantations you might want to visit; maybe we can do that together one day. I’ve always been a history nut, and there’s certainly plenty to see around here. But you shouldn’t have any trouble finding your way around the city or islands because they’re small and laid out well. I have a little house on St. Simons; it’s the largest of the Golden Isles, but we only have a population of about thirteen thousand. I take it you’re planning to stay on Sea Island and not return to Augusta or your hometown?” Linda asked for Jason’s benefit.

“That’s right, Except for a few friends, I don’t have any other ties to either place.”

That isn’t exactly accurate; Jason thought, you have the business in Augusta. Or maybe Peter inherited it. I wonder what Grantham left to you. If he was as wealthy as I’ve heard, you should be a very rich woman. That means too many hungry men will be chasing after you soon, and I don’t mean for just your money. Lordy, the competition is going to be heavy!

After their dessert orders were taken and their dinner plates removed, Linda asked, “Did you enjoy your career before you married and do you plan to return to it in the future?”

Cass reasoned that Linda, as a working woman, must assume that she would want or need to work and hadn’t stopped to think that it was hardly necessary. “I haven’t thought about it, but if I do, it won’t be anytime soon. I am planning to make some changes at home that will take up a lot of my time and energy.”

“You have a beautiful home, Cass. What changes are you planning?”

“I’m not sure, just things to make it look and feel different.”

Linda didn’t press the subject. She was aware that Cass had not removed her wedding rings yet, but perhaps Cass was worried about how that would appear to others if she took them off so soon after becoming a widow.

As they ate large slices of Key Lime pie, Jason asked, “Would you ladies like to join me for church and lunch tomorrow before my golf game? I attend First Baptist here on St. Simons. We could eat at Chelsea’s on the same road.”

“That sounds nice. Linda and I can meet you there. What time?”

“There’s no need to take two cars. Since I live down the street from you, I have to drive by your house, so I can pick you up. It won’t be any bother because I have to return home afterward to change into my golf clothes. What about ten-thirty? That will give us time to drive over, park, and get seated before the eleven o’clock service begins.”

“Linda, how does that sound to you?” Cass inquired.

“Perfect, because that’s where I go when I’m not on a case.”

They chatted for a while longer. After the bill came and was paid, Jason escorted them to the car and drove them to Cass’s home, where he dropped them off and departed.

As Cass prepared herself for bed, anticipation flowed through her. She decided she was going to start enjoying life and her new freedom. She wasn’t going to bury herself with her deceitful husband, but she would be careful with her conduct so she wouldn’t cause any gossip or annoy Peter.

Thanks to Jason and Linda, she felt as if she were being reborn, and she mustn’t, she vowed, let anything or anyone trample her down again.

As Cass settled herself on the pew next to Linda, thinking it unwise to sit beside a distracting and well-groomed Jason, she adjusted the hems of the skirt and jacket to a pale-pink wool crepe suit from Bicci by Florine Wachter. Her fingers checked the bows sewn just above the wrists on the long sleeves of the jacket. A gold clasp connected a double strand of pale-pink pearls that rested at the hollow of her throat, and matching drop earrings dangled from her lobes. Her outfit was completed by Anne Klein scalloped pumps with sling backs and skinny heels in grosgrain and a matching handbag. She was fond of this suit and shoes because she, not Tom for a change, had selected them. Now that Tom was gone, she could part with garments and footwear he had chosen which she didn’t like, and she had the money—a nice “allowance”—with which to replace them.

As she glanced around before and after the service began, Cass noticed that the First Baptist Church on Ocean Boulevard was large and lovely. The congregation members smiled and nodded when she caught their eyes; the choir was talented, the music soothing and familiar; the paster was an excellent speaker; and the atmosphere was calming. Her tension faded; her spirits were uplifted, and her past seemed a million miles away.

Afterward, they lunched at Chelsea’s down the street, a restaurant that seemed nestled in an alcove of live oaks, palms, and other greenery. The building had a quaint Victorian flavor, and looked deceptively smaller from outside. Rattan chairs with
turquoise seats were placed beside tables with aqua cloths over white ones, and sat atop a shiny brick floor.

They dined on Chelsea salad, chilled jumbo shrimps with remoulade and red sauce, and seafood fettuccine alfredo with shrimp, scallops, mushrooms, and scallions piled atop the pasta.

“You must eat out a lot, Jason, because you know all of the good restaurants. This place is wonderful and the food is delicious.”

“Thanks, Cass. I suppose dining out frequently is one of the problems of being single. I much prefer quiet meals at home, but I’m not the world’s best chef and I’m usually too tired to cook after I get off work. I surely did enjoy eating with you and Linda those two nights. It was kind of you ladies to take pity on me,” he jested.

“Then we’ll have to do it again some time soon.” Cass responded. “Eating alone isn’t any fun, nor is cooking for one person.”

Jason nodded agreement. “Did you enjoy yourself this morning?”

“Yes, I haven’t been to church in years and it felt good to be there again. During my youth and before I married Tom, I attended regularly, but I got out of that good habit. Tom wasn’t a religious man and we stayed on the road too much during our first two years of marriage to attend one. I should be ashamed of myself for not finding a place of worship since I moved here.”

“If you liked mine, Cass, I try to go almost every Sunday, so you’re welcome to join me. And, as Linda told you, that’s where she goes, too, when she isn’t confined to a house with a patient.”

“It’s nice having a patient who isn’t confined to bed or home,” Linda added, “Cass and I have been having a wonderful time together. I almost hate for her to get better so I’ll have to leave.”

“Me, too,” Cass concurred with a grin. “But we can still
get together whenever you have time. Make sure you keep me posted on your schedule.”

As the two women ate and chatted, Jason wished he were the one who would be entertaining Cass and spending time with her. Considering her improvement, he couldn’t use her health as an excuse to visit her much longer. He wondered how many weeks he should wait before asking her out on a real date and, when he did, would she accept? She seemed to like him and enjoy his company, but she was so conscious of her image and obligations as a recent widow to risk doing anything that might look inappropriate. He just didn’t want her to start going out where she could meet another man and become interested in him before he himself could attempt to win her. Yet, he didn’t want to offend her by pursuing her too soon after her loss. He needed to discover if her marriage had been a happy one and what kind of man Thomas Grantham had been; knowing those two facts would tell him how deeply and how long she would mourn her lost husband.

Sunday evening following his round of golf, Jason received partial answers to his earlier queries when he decided to grab a bite to eat in the Putter’s Club at the Sea Palms Resort before going home, as his friends already had left to join their families for dinner. As he sat in the grill area, sipped his drink, and awaited his food, a colleague noticed his presence and approached his table to speak with him.

“Hello, Jason, how are you doing?”

“Fine. How about you?” he asked the female gynecologist who practiced in Brunswick and often referred patients to him.

“No complaints. I saw you at church and lunch with a new patient of mine, Cassandra Grantham. It’s terrible what happened to her, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Does she have any medical problems I need to be aware of? I’ve been treating her for mild anxiety and depression
since her husband’s death. I have a private nurse staying with her and taking care of her for a couple of weeks so she won’t be alone.”

“I know Linda Carnes, and I saw her with you two earlier. I assumed they were friends of yours. Mrs. Grantham didn’t mention she’s under your care or on medication. I wonder why.”

Jason was glad he was sitting at a corner table and no one was close enough to overhear their talk. “Probably because she’s embarrassed she went to pieces for a while.”

“I can understand why. I mean, besides losing her husband, she has other worries on her mind. I’ll send you a copy of her blood work, but I didn’t find anything unusual. I ran a full screen and other tests.”

Jason tried to mask his personal concern and to sound only professional. “What other tests?”

“She wanted a full female check-up; she was embarrassed about the situation, but she requested the full range of STDs and an AIDS test. She said she suspected her husband was having an affair when he was killed and she wanted to make certain, if it was true, she hadn’t caught anything from him. I take it she didn’t mention those fears or suspicions to you?”

“No, and I can understand why she wouldn’t. That’s a shame, because Cass is a nice lady. She didn’t deserve that added problem.”

“So, you two are friends; she’s not just a patient?”

Jason waited until the house specialty—Cajaibbean shrimp—was placed before him and the waitress departed before he answered the rather nosy question, “Yes, we’ve known each other since she moved here last fall. I only met her husband on a few occasions, but that’s because he traveled a great deal. I do know her stepson, Peter; he runs Grantham Seafood and Grantham Electronics in Brunswick.” Jason noted the mischievous grin that creased the gynecologist’s face.

“Ah, yes, Peter Grantham; I’ve seen him many times, even
been hit on by him at least twice. He thinks he’s a real charmer and irresistible to women. Well, he isn’t my type and I told him so. I pity Mrs. Grantham having to deal with him; he strikes me as being real money and power hungry, and a sex fiend to boot. Perhaps father and son weren’t very different, if you catch my meaning. She was plenty worried about it.”

Jason didn’t like the way she was acting more like a gossip than a physician, but he didn’t stop her, wanting to learn more about Cass. “You said all of her tests were either negative or normal?”

“That’s right; I gave her the good news when she called me on Friday. I couldn’t miss her sigh of relief even over the phone. I’ll send you a copy of her file for your records.”

“Thanks, but don’t mention that to Cass; she’ll be embarrassed. Would you like to join me?” Jason felt compelled to ask the woman.

“Thanks, but I’m joining friends in the Main Course. They’re probably waiting for me now and wondering where I am. Perhaps we can get together another time; I hope so. It was good to see you.”

“You, too,” he half-lied before she left for the main dining room.

As he ate his food with a now lagging appetite, Jason didn’t know if he should be elated or saddened by the news of Tom’s adultery. Without strong suspicions or proof she’d found in Tom’s possessions, Cass wouldn’t have requested those humiliating tests and examination. If it was a recent discovery, he reasoned, that betrayal and her health fears could have been partly responsible for her emotional crash. His heart ached over her sufferings. He didn’t understand how her husband could have been unfaithful to such a wonderful woman. It was selfish on his part to hope Tom was guilty, because an adulterer would be easier to get over, wouldn’t he? He wanted to be the man to teach her to love, trust, and commit again. If only his lover’s
skills could match his medical ones, he could help heal her wounded heart and injured soul.