1022 Evergreen Place (16 page)

“Marrying you.”

Not that again. “Mack, thank you, but no.”

He stared at her, and for an instant she saw hurt and disappointment in his eyes before he could disguise his feelings.

“Haven't we been through this before?” she asked, hoping to make light of his proposal. “The last time, your proposal was prompted by another one of David's threats.” If he really wanted to marry her, Mary Jo wanted to be loved for
herself
and not because Mack was afraid of losing her or Noelle to David Rhodes.

“I guess I forgot,” he muttered, striding toward his side of the duplex.

“Mack!” she called.

Abruptly he turned to face her. “What?”

“You're still coming for dinner, aren't you?”

He shook his head. “No, thanks. I've lost my appetite.”

S
hirley Bliss was curled up on her living room sofa, feet tucked beneath her and a cup of tea in her hand. Her friend Miranda sat across from her, holding an identical mug, also filled with steaming tea. Miranda had recently accepted a part-time job with Will Jefferson, which in Shirley's opinion was good for Will
and
for Miranda. Her friend didn't need the money, but she was at loose ends and Will could use the help. Besides, Miranda had connections that could benefit the gallery.

Her husband had been a well-known landscape artist. Miranda dabbled in art, too, although she lacked the discipline to capitalize on her talent. However, she had an excellent eye and her criticism was incisive.

“I've been dying to hear about your hot date with Will Jefferson,” Miranda said.

“I wouldn't exactly call it a hot date,” Shirley said, not meeting her eyes. Shirley felt mildly guilty for accepting Will's invitation. In all likelihood, she would've found yet another excuse to refuse if not for the fact that he'd asked her to the gallery event, where she'd met Larry Knight. Shirley couldn't turn down the opportunity of a lifetime.

When they did meet, Larry was everything she'd imagined and more. They hadn't spoken long. He'd told her he'd lost his wife five years earlier, and an instant rapport had developed between them. Those minutes alone with him—despite being in a room full of people—had been magical.

“Will took you to Canlis, didn't he?” This was one of the most exclusive and expensive restaurants in Seattle.

“Uh, yes.”

Miranda gave a short laugh. “Apparently he didn't get the message that you don't eat red meat.” Shirley wasn't a full vegetarian and did on occasion eat beef, but not often and never steak.

“He got it by the end of the night.” The message about her food preferences wasn't the only one. She couldn't have been any clearer—she wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship with Will Jefferson. While she appreciated everything he'd done for Tanni and Shaw, that appreciation didn't imply any kind of romantic relationship.

“He talked you into letting him display your dragon piece.”

That, too, had been prompted by the guilt Shirley felt over using Will, primarily in the situation with Tanni and Shaw. The dragon was a deeply personal work of art that she'd never allowed in public before and wouldn't again. He wanted it up for the summer and she'd reluctantly consented, after initially agreeing to only one month.

To her, the dragon symbolized the fiery grief the death of her husband had brought into her life. Shirley had made the fabric collage shortly after her husband, Jim, was killed in a motorcycle accident. Will had taken one look at it and practically begged her to let him display it. After weeks of turning him down she'd finally acquiesced, with the proviso that specific measures be taken to protect it. Will had accepted her conditions.

“Have you talked to Will since last Sunday?” Miranda asked.

Shirley shook her head. His reticence was mildly surprising. He'd been finding one reason or another to contact her every other day and then…silence. Not that Shirley was complaining.

“Does the fact he hasn't called concern you?” Miranda asked.

Sipping her tea, Shirley watched her friend over the rim of her mug. “Why all these questions about me and Will Jefferson?”

Miranda shifted uncomfortably. “No reason. I was just wondering.”

“I enjoyed talking to Larry Knight for five minutes far more than I enjoyed that expensive dinner with Will.”

“But you would never have met Larry if it hadn't been for Will.”

That was true enough. “I know.”

“And you feel guilty about that, right?”

Shirley sighed. “Right.”

“I did,” Miranda mumbled, looking decidedly un comfortable.

“You did what?” Shirley asked in confusion.

“I heard from Will.”

“Will Jefferson? He called you about work, you mean?”

Miranda shrugged. “At first I thought he wanted me for the gallery. I've already worked a couple of afternoons. However, this time he called and…asked me out to dinner.”

That was encouraging news. “And?” Shirley asked, excited for her friend.

“Absolutely not.” Her reply was forceful. “I wouldn't go out with the man my best friend's dating if you paid
me a million bucks.” She grinned. “Well, maybe I would for that kind of money.”

Shirley smiled, too. “I get your drift, but you don't have to turn him down.”

Miranda looked in every direction except Shirley's.

“In other words, it wouldn't bother me in the least if you wanted to go out with Will,” Shirley said, hoping to reassure her.

“But it would bother me.” Miranda spoke just as adamantly as she had earlier. “He's interested in you. The only reason Will asked
me
is to get a reaction out of you.”

“Why would you think that?”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”

“Okay, you could be right.” Shirley laughed. “So call him back and tell him you've had a change of heart.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Shirley repeated. “Because I have a feeling you might actually be interested.”

“You've got to be kidding! That man's used to women falling all over themselves to make him happy. He's had his way for far too long.” Amusement glimmered in her eyes. “You were the exception, the woman he couldn't get.”

“Well, rumor has it there were others,” Shirley said, thinking of Grace.

“He needs a woman who'll tell him what's what.”

“The woman he needs, Miranda, is you,” Shirley said.

“Sorry, not interested.”

Shirley wasn't convinced that was even close to the truth. “Whatever you decide is fine with me. I don't want him, so he's all yours.”

“I don't want him, either,” Miranda said stubbornly. “It would take far too much time and effort to whip him
into shape. I don't have the inclination or the patience to take on that project.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I'm serious,” Miranda insisted.

“If you say so.” Shirley had seen the spark in Miranda's eyes whenever Will's name was mentioned.

“Don't you start with me, Shirley Bliss.”

“Fine. I won't,” she returned, smiling. Oh, her friend was interested, but at the same time she was afraid. Miranda's marriage hadn't been nearly as happy as Shirley's. For all his talent, Hugh Sullivan had been a difficult and demanding personality.

A half hour later, Shirley was in the kitchen preparing a chicken-and-rice casserole dish when Tanni came home.

Her relationship with her teenage daughter was rocky and hadn't improved much. Shirley tended to tread lightly, always unsure of Tanni's mood. It was usually best to wait for her to speak first.

“What's that?” her daughter asked, wrinkling her nose as she watched Shirley work.

“Dinner,” Shirley said without elaborating.

“You aren't putting mushrooms in it, are you?”

“No.” She
had
planned to add mushrooms but wouldn't now. “This is chicken with cheese and rice. Does that meet with your approval?”

“Sounds okay, I guess.”

Evidently Shirley had deflated her daughter's indignation. She chanced a look in Tanni's direction and took a leap of faith. “Is everything all right?” she asked tentatively.

Tanni whirled around, and Shirley was shocked to see tears in her eyes. In the past she would've pretended she hadn't noticed, but she couldn't do that anymore. She reached out her arms and hugged Tanni.

Tanni released a sob as she slid her arms around her mother's waist. “He won't even answer my text messages anymore,” she wailed.

“Shaw?”

Tanni nodded jerkily.

The two of them—Tanni and Shaw—had been together constantly for about eight months. Shirley had been nearly frantic with worry that they might become physically involved. Her fear was that they'd already crossed that line. Will Jefferson had thrown her a life preserver when—with Larry's assistance—he'd arranged for Shaw to attend the San Francisco Art Institute.

At first Shaw and Tanni were in frequent communication, but then as the weeks passed, Tanni heard from him less and less often. In the beginning she'd made excuses for Shaw. “He's busy,” she'd say, keeping her cell phone close at hand.

“I thought he loved me,” Tanni blurted now. Shirley could feel her daughter struggling to control her emotions.

She had no words of advice to offer. It didn't matter. What Tanni needed was comfort and love, and Shirley had both in abundance.

“I volunteered at the library because I thought it would help take my mind off Shaw, but that's no good, either.”

The Reading with Rover program was going well, and Shirley assumed Tanni enjoyed being part of it. Every indication from Grace Harding suggested that Tanni was doing a terrific job.

“You seemed to like working with the kids.”

“I do, but I hate having to deal with Kristen.” She twisted her lip as she pronounced the other girl's name. “She's such a goody-goody,” Tanni spat out. “And Grace wants me to make nice. Give me a break.”

“I'm sure you'll work it out.” Shirley couldn't think of anything else to tell Tanni.

“I want to quit, but I can see how much the little kids love reading to the dogs. And if I left, Grace would have to remove someone from the program. That'd be wrong. Besides, I'd just go back to worrying about Shaw.”

“You can't quit without a good reason.”

Her daughter glared up at her as if Shirley had uttered the stupidest words ever spoken by a parent. “Thanks, Mom, but I already figured that out on my own.”

“Oops, sorry.” They rarely had a conversation without Shirley making at least one critical error in judgment, saying either too much or too little.

Tanni broke out of her arms. “I'm not calling or texting Shaw ever again.”

That was no doubt for the best, although hard to pull off, especially since these kids seemed to have cell phones permanently attached to their hands.

Tanni hesitated. “Not today, anyway.”

“Do you want me to hold on to your cell phone for you?” Shirley asked, thinking it might help if she kept temptation out of the way.

“No.” Tanni sent her a scornful look and went into her bedroom, closing the door.

“Okay, sorry I asked,” Shirley muttered.

The phone rang and caller ID said it was a private number. As usual, Tanni answered after a solitary ring. Two or three seconds later her daughter shrilled down the hallway, “It's for you!”

“Who is it?” Shirley asked. If she didn't get this casserole in the oven, dinner wouldn't be ready until eight.

“I don't know. Some man.”

“Some man” probably translated into Will Jefferson, but if that was the case Tanni should have recognized his voice. He certainly phoned often enough.

Sighing, she reached for the phone. “This is Shirley.”

“Shirley, it's Larry Knight. Am I calling at a bad time?”

Shock and delight rippled through her. “No, not at all. This is perfect.” Any time he called would be perfect as far as she was concerned. She hadn't dared to hope she'd hear from him.

“I wanted to tell you what a pleasure it was to meet you last week.”

“The pleasure was mine.” The expression was commonplace, but she meant it sincerely.

“I'm going to be in the Seattle area again soon.”

“That's…wonderful.” She wished her voice wasn't so breathless.

“It's another show.”

“Of your work?”

“No, a friend of mine.”

Shirley waited for him to continue.

“I'm calling to ask if you'd be free to join me.”

“I would,” she said, regardless of the details.

“It's on Sunday the twenty-seventh.”

“That's perfect.” She bit her lip, embarrassed that she no longer seemed to know any other words.

“I can get a third invitation if you'd like to include Will.”

“No. No, that isn't necessary.”

“You're sure?” Larry asked.

“Oh, yes.”

“I arrive early Saturday and fly out Monday morning.”

“Would you like to come to Cedar Cove?” she asked, and immediately regretted it. She imagined how awkward it would be if they ran into Will Jefferson.

“Perhaps,” he said, “but I have commitments in Seattle on Saturday.”

Of course he would. Shirley felt gauche for having made the suggestion. Larry was an important artist, a celebrity, and he had better things to do than visit Cedar Cove.

“Would it be possible to see you on Sunday? Have dinner after the show?”

“No…I mean, yes, it would be possible.” Every time she opened her mouth she seemed to say something stupid. She had to wonder why Larry wanted to see her at all.

“Great.” He sounded pleased, which only added to Shirley's delight.

“I'm so glad you called,” she said. “I didn't expect to hear from you, and, well, I'm…more than a little flattered.” It was probably all wrong to tell him that, to be so effusive, but she didn't care.

They talked for another five minutes while they made arrangements. He'd send a car for her and, if he could manage it, he'd come with the car, although at this point that looked doubtful. As he spoke, Shirley got a pen and pad from the kitchen junk drawer and wrote it all down, certain that if she didn't she'd forget every word.

As soon as she was off the phone, Shirley rushed down the hallway to her daughter's bedroom and threw open the door. Tanni lay on her bed, cell phone in hand, text messaging.

“You'll never guess who that was!” Shirley cried.

Tanni looked up with a bored expression. “Hugh Jackman.”