Wish on the Moon (11 page)

***

With a cautious look, Sonya had given Laura
the keys to the display cases. Perusing each one, she glanced up
with a ready smile when a customer came into the store. She felt at
home in this environment, sure of herself. Handling the gold,
watching its buttery glow under the lights and the sparkle of
precious gems thrilled her. She saved the case with the sapphires
for last because she enjoyed them the most.

She lifted out a velvet tray and stared at
the rings with longing. Jewelry was beautiful, but she loved
handling it more than owning it. Except for the sapphires.
Sometime, when Mandy was older, their finances in good shape...

Choosing a ring with fifteen, deep
brilliant-cut sapphires in an S shape, she slipped it on her
finger. Too big for the fourth digit, she switched it to the middle
finger and pushed it on. It was tight, but splendid.

She jumped when a voice behind her asked,
"Sampling the inventory?"

Mitch's chin almost touched her shoulder as
he leaned toward her. The hairs on her neck stood at attention. Oh,
Lord. Every time he got this close, she felt like jumping out of
her skin. She was quickly discovering Mitch wasn't a "type." Mitch
was Mitch. How she ever had the audacity to approach him the way
she had last night, she'd never know.

Gulping in a draft of air, she blurted,
"Wouldn't I like to! Sapphires are the most mysterious yet the most
practical. Can you imagine them surrounding a blue topaz? The
Caribbean surrounded by midnight sky."

He seemed surprised by her suggestion. "Maybe
you should think about designing."

She shook her head and backed away a few
inches. "No, I don't have the imagination. I just know what I like.
And I like this ring too much to wear it any longer."

When she tried to slip it off, it wouldn't
budge. She gave Mitch a sheepish smile. "I might have to keep
it."

His long stare judged her before his words.
"Don't you think before you act? We always size a customer before
we try to slip a ring on her finger. You should know better."

She twisted the ring around but only
succeeded in making her finger red and swollen. "I get excited
around jewelry. I merely wanted to see how it looked."

"Well, now you see. And now it's stuck. How
inconvenient."

They'd been friendly in the office. Sort of.
What had happened to make him suspicious again? Doubts and
misconceptions shadowed his eyes. Did he think she'd keep the ring?
That she'd done this on purpose? Wise enough to know nothing she
could say would change his mind, she decided only her actions in
the next six weeks would prove she could be trusted, that she
wouldn't manipulate him or the circumstances for her own
benefit.

"This isn't a major catastrophe, Mitch. Don't
you keep lotion nearby for situations like this?"

"I've never had to--"

She pointed to the shelf below the cash
register. "Maybe Sonya does. That looks like lotion."

With a speculative look, he stooped to
retrieve the plastic bottle and handed it to her.

Laura squeezed a small dab of the pink liquid
into her palm, applied it to her finger, gave the ring a twist, and
slid it off.

Her gaze and Mitch's caught, and his
expression shook her. There was primordial desire there that
stopped her breath because she felt it too. But she could see he
resented feeling it and that made him sharp. "I know you're an
intelligent woman, Laura. But from what I've heard, your judgment
takes second place to your impetuous nature."

Her patience melted like a snowflake on a hot
iron. "Have you always lived your life with a step by step plan?
Hasn't anything ever thrown it off?"

"My father's binges threw it off plenty. So
did Carey's escapades. But I always managed to get it back on
track."

She heard pride, but she also heard grief.
She hadn't meant to remind him of days better forgotten. The
sadness on his face squeezed her heart until she felt it too. She
wanted to wrap her arms around him and make it go away.

Softly, she said, "Being on track doesn't
have to mean being bored, or not having fun."

"I've never been bored."

"Have you ever had fun?"

"Of course."

"When?"

His eyes were shuttered to keep her from
seeing too much. "My first ride on a roller coaster."

"That's it?"

"Of course not."

"Well? What else?"

He gave her a menacing look but answered her
question. "Horseback riding."

"And how long's it been since you've done
that?"

"Laura--"

"How long?"

He rifled his hand through his hair. "About
two years."

She shook her head in exasperation. "Do you
have fun at Christmas?"

"It's pleasant."

"What do you do?"

He appeared ready to wring her neck as he
stepped closer, "Last year Mom made dinner and your dad joined
us."

He smelled of wind and fall and everything
basic, earthy and male. Curiosity pushed her to keep at him. "Did
you sing carols, trim a tree, play in the snow?"

"We're adults, Laura. We ate dinner and spent
time talking. The inquisition is now over. My free time isn't the
issue, your judgment is. Make sure you use it wisely when you're in
this store."

She saluted sharply. "Yes, sir. As soon as I
wipe off this ring and put it away, you can introduce me to your
records. If your program is as rigid as your life, it'll be simple
to learn."

He gripped her elbow firmly. "Laura..."

She gazed down at his fingers--long fingers
that were stern yet gentle as if he was afraid she'd snap if he
pressed too hard. Knowing she was dabbling with the dangerous but
unable to resist, she flashed him a smile as dazzling as the
sapphire ring on her hand. "Careful. Sonya's watching. We wouldn't
want to start any rumors, would we?"

His answer was a fake smile as he glanced at
the assistant manager and released Laura's arm. "The program is
fairly easy and not open to misinterpretation. Maybe you can learn
something from it."

As clearly as she knew her name, Laura
realized nothing would be easy with Mitch--not work, not the
subject of her father, not the time they'd spend together. They
were attracted to each other, fighting it, neither of them knowing
exactly why. This might be the most interesting six weeks of her
life.

***

Saturday morning Laura frowned at the
computer monitor. She'd become familiar with the numbers, the
lists, the inventory. She'd analyzed the projected sales for
December, also looking at profits for the year at both stores. She
was surprised at what she'd found. The York store was falling
behind. It was making a profit but not like Harrisburg.
Automatically she'd asked herself what to do about it.

Watching the clientele had helped. They were
older, steady customers who'd been coming to the store for years.
She'd also examined the Christmas ad campaign--what there was of
it. That was another problem. She'd bet that sapphire ring out
there that Mitch's ad campaign included special publicity about his
exhibition and brought in all age groups. She'd also bet his ads
were more comprehensive year round. Had he looked at the
differences in profit margins? Had he discussed sales techniques
with her dad? Neither of them even had a website. In this day that
was a necessary part of PR as far as she was concerned.

Ideas began clicking. November and December
were the months to pick up new customers. If the store offered
something unique, a service--Ladies' night, Men's night, a new line
to pique interest like some of the chains had. She'd have to talk
to Mitch about it with a clear head, without being distracted by
the tension between them.

"Are you ready?" Mitch asked, sticking his
head into the office.

Sure, not be distracted. Fat chance when his
voice echoed through her and his appearance accelerated her heart
rate. "Did Dad call?"

"Yep. He can't wait to get home. Discharge
papers are signed. He just needs our chauffeur service." Mitch's
smile was free and wide. Ray's recovery meant a lot to him.

Laura was concerned. "He seemed anxious last
night. As if he's afraid to come home. But he insisted he didn't
want a private duty nurse."

Mitch's smile faded but his expression was
still relaxed. "I think he's more concerned he won't recover as
fast as he wants to. He was delighted by Mandy's visit."

"She's a little afraid of him."

Mitch shrugged. "He's a stranger."

Laura switched off the computer and stood.
"So were you but that didn't stop her from being curious and
friendly."

"What do you think the problem is? Maybe it
was the hospital setting."

"I hope that's all. Sometimes I feel like I'm
watching her too carefully, looking for signs of withdrawal again.
If she misses George and Anne too much, we might have to-- Never
mind. I'm worrying too much."

"I've heard that's a parent's prerogative." A
partial smile chased away his seriousness.

Laura crossed to the old fashioned clothes
rack and took her poncho from a hook, trying not to be apprehensive
about bringing her father home. They hadn't been together in that
house for six years.

"What's wrong?"

For someone who seemed to close off his
feelings, Mitch certainly was aware of hers. She suspected he was
still analyzing her--or at least attempting to. If she evaded him,
he'd think she was hiding something.

She groped for an explanation that wouldn't
put disapproval back in his eyes, but gave it up when she found
approval and honesty didn't always go together. Slipping on the
poncho, she said, "Dad's not easy to live with under the best of
terms." When Mitch started to speak, she stopped him. "You asked me
what was wrong. I'm worried. I don't want to upset him. But just
being in the house with him brings back memories, some I'd rather
forget. He and I have to establish a new relationship. I'm not sure
either of us is ready for it."

Mitch stuffed his hands in his front trouser
pockets. "Can I say something now?"

"Not if you're going to tell me I'm the one
who has to make all the concessions." She stood silently
waiting.

His blue eyes darkened and she couldn't
understand their message. It didn't seem to matter because he
turned his back on her. "Let's go."

***

As Mitch helped her father into his house,
Laura felt like crying. She should have realized she'd be a fifth
wheel. The only time her father had paid attention to her after her
mother died was when she'd gotten into trouble. He'd thought
grounding or cutting off her allowance or forbidding her to see her
friends would solve the problems. He'd never realized she wanted
his love, his time, and his attention.

Why should he be any different just because
he'd had bypass surgery? While she was growing up, he'd used his
work to close her out. Now he could use Mitch and the years in
which they hadn't talked to keep her at a distance. Was she wrong
not to have made further attempts to resolve their differences?
Possibly. But her letters had been returned unopened the first
year. It had hurt too much to be rejected over and over.

Her father had looked to Mitch at the
hospital to help him into the wheelchair, to pick up the suitcase,
to drive him home. Laura had sat in the back seat, trying to make
conversation, but not doing much better than the weather, something
they had thoroughly discussed on each of her visits.

Nora met them at the door and ushered Ray
into the living room, motioning toward the wing chair. "Would you
like to go to your room and rest? I'll bring lunch up to you. Mitch
and I discussed the diet your doctor gave you. I made chicken salad
with low fat dressing."

Ray gave Nora a wan smile. "To keep you from
running up and down the stairs, I think I'll stay in the
housekeeper's quarters." He looked at Mitch. "The sofa in there
opens up. Could you sleep there a few nights in case I need
something?"

Laura could see her father was scared and
uncertain about being home. She wanted to hug him, comfort him,
tell him he'd live a long, happy life. But he was looking to Mitch
for help, not her. She glanced at Mandy sitting on the sofa,
watching everything with wide eyes, and felt very much like her
daughter looked--awkward, unsure, wondering what came next.

Making an attempt to help, Laura offered, "I
can help Nora, Dad, if you want to stay in your room. The bed's
probably more comfortable. We could put a bell--"

"Ray can probably relax better down here,"
Mitch interrupted. "He'd have his own living room and TV and the
kitchen right outside. I think his idea is a good one."

Laura protested. "We haven't cleaned it or
aired it out."

Nora intervened. "Give me fifteen
minutes."

Laura expected a smug look from Mitch, but
didn't get one. He strode over to Mandy and crouched down in front
of her. "Maybe this afternoon you could keep your grandfather
company. I bet he'd like to look at your new books."

Mitch had bought Mandy a talking book and a
puppet to go with it. He's also gifted her with a couple of
classics. When he'd presented the gifts to her, his face had lit up
as if he was the one receiving a present. Laura had been touched by
his thoughtfulness. But he'd brushed her thanks aside, saying he
just wanted Mandy to feel at home. Now he was promoting the
relationship between grandfather and granddaughter. Laura should be
doing that herself.

"Honey, do you want to help us get a room
ready for grandpa?" she asked to include her daughter.

Mandy jumped off the sofa and stuck her hand
in her mother's. "Okay. Can I show him my puppet?"

Ray boomed, "Sure you can. We'll get to know
each other this afternoon when your mom and Mitch go to the
store."

Her hand tightened around Laura's. "Mommy,
you're not leaving, are you?"