Drape Expectations (20 page)

The truck rammed her again. Before she could come up with a plan of action, it dropped back and sped forward. This time, it didn't ram her in the rear bumper. It slid up beside her left side; then before she knew it, it had plunged into her left fender.

The steering wheel slipped through her fingers in spite of her efforts to direct the car where she wanted it to go. Her Camaro lurched into a muddy ditch on the right side of the road. As Caprice struggled to recover from the shock, she heard the pickup's gunned engine as it sped away, disappearing over the rise of a hill.

Caprice's left shoulder had hit the door. She felt woozy, whether from an overwhelming sense of disbelief or the accident itself, she didn't know.

Taking several deep breaths, she took stock of her situation. Unhooking her lap belt, she moved her arms first and winced. Her left shoulder was definitely bruised. She moved her hand and fingers. All of that was in working order. She turned her head from left to right. No problem there. She leaned forward a little, then moved each leg. There was always an adrenaline rush after an accident, and the people involved didn't always realize how badly they were injured. But she really did think she was okay.

Her car might be another matter. The idea that her car was badly damaged almost brought tears to her eyes. She loved this car.

She managed to pry her door open. The car leaned to the right and it was a huge step to reach the ground.

When she did, she sank into mud over her instep. These shoes might not survive the accident, either.

After a look at how the Camaro was leaning and a glance around at all the mud, she knew her vehicle would have to be towed. Pulling her cell phone from the pocket of her bell-bottoms, she touched contacts, then the number for the auto service. A dispatcher informed her someone would be there between forty-five minutes and an hour.

Still standing in mud, worrying whether or not her car could be repaired, analyzing who could have done this to her, she felt frustrated and out of sorts, weary and teary. Before she thought better of it, she speed-dialed Grant.

Ten minutes later, Caprice sat in her car, thinking that was the safest place to be, when she spotted Grant's vehicle coming from the opposite direction. He must have broken all the speed limits. The shoulder on the other side of the road wasn't as muddy, and he managed to pull off. Exiting his car, he rushed over to hers.

She pushed open her door again, fighting against gravity. But she didn't have to exert too great an effort because Grant was there, standing in the mud, opening it the whole way.

His eyes were an intense gray. “Are you sure you're all right? We can still call the paramedics.”

He looked all macho and worried and completely unconcerned that his navy suit slacks were soon going to have mud edged around the hem that might not be so easy to get off.

“I'm okay,” she assured him.

He held out his hands to her. “Let me help you out. You can sit in my car until the auto service and police arrive.”

“I didn't call the police.”

“I'm calling them now.” He dialed 9-1-1 and gave them the appropriate information.

They were out of Kismet jurisdiction, but whoever responded would file a report. She would contact Detective Carstead later to fill him in ... if he didn't get to her first.

After Grant was finished, he said, “It isn't safe to stay in your car. Let's go to mine.”

No, sitting here wasn't safe. Apparently, driving on this back road hadn't been safe. Watching a horse gallop as she cruised by him hadn't been safe. She took Grant's hands and slid forward on the seat, but the bucket was an impediment to her sliding out easily. She couldn't help but wince when she moved her shoulder forward.

Grant muttered something unintelligible; then he leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her, and, more or less, carried her free from the car. Once she was on solid ground that wasn't oozing water and dirt, he took her hand and guided her to his SUV.

At the passenger door, she murmured, “I've got mud all over my shoes and pants, and your car's going to be a mess.”

“I am not worried about the car,” he said in a firm, strained tone.

After she slid inside, and he took another look at her from head to toe—probably to make sure she wasn't going to faint on him or something worse—he shut the door. The words “white knight” kept running through Caprice's head and she wondered if she hadn't been shaken up more than she thought.

 

 

An hour and a half later, Caprice was settled on her sofa, an ice bag on her shoulder, Lady at her feet, Mirabelle to one side of her, Sophia peering down from her cat tree. Oh yes . . . and Grant was bringing her a cup of hot peach tea.

“Are you sure you don't want something to eat?” he asked. “Your hands are still shaking.”

After a sip of tea, she put the cup and saucer on the coffee table right next to her silent butler. What had been her affirmation this morning?
Breathe and enjoy your day.

It had been some day.

“Talk to me some more about what you were doing in York,” Grant said as he sat beside her.

She'd given him a very brief explanation when she'd phoned him. Just that she'd been visiting a dance studio. She'd been too tired and upset to talk on the way home and Grant had respected that.

Now she went into more detail. “When I was staging Alanna's house, I saw Alanna studying a photograph of a little girl, which she quickly hid in her desk drawer.”

“Hid?”

“That's the way it seemed to me. She didn't want me to see it. I didn't think a lot about it then, but after the funeral reception, I asked Twyla if we could see if it was still there, and it was. The little girl was dressed in a recital costume and the name of the dance studio was on the back. Twyla let me take it with me. So today I went to the dance studio. At first, the instructor was reluctant to tell me anything, but then she realized I was searching for a murderer.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Grant asked. “Do you know how chilling that statement is?”

After what had just happened to her, she realized exactly how chilling it was.

“I was simply searching out clues. The little girl and her mom came to the next dance session, and I approached the mom.”

Grant groaned. “You never should have done that. You should have given the picture to Carstead.”

“Maybe, but what good was the photo without information to go with it?”

Grant's jaw was a chiseled, stubborn line; and his expression, more than anything, told her that he didn't approve of any of this. Yet, he let her go on without saying he didn't approve ... without saying,
I told you so.

“I was reasonable about this, Grant, really I was. I told Sherry Duncan's mother she had until Monday. If I didn't hear from her before then, I would give the photo to the detective in charge, and she'd have to answer his questions instead of mine.”

Grant's jaw became a little less stonelike, and the look in his eyes softened. “That made sense. But what if
she
was the one who tried to run you off the road? About fifty yards up that road, there was a line of decades-old maples. Do you realize if you'd been run off the road there and crashed into one of those trees, you'd be dead?”

His voice wasn't filled with disapproval now. It was filled with so much concern that Caprice's throat tightened and tears threatened once again.

He must have seen her eyes glisten because he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tight against him. “You make me crazy sometimes,” he murmured, looking deeply into her eyes.

She searched his face. Exactly what did that mean? She made him crazy? Crazy with—?

In the next moment, she found out. For Grant, “crazy” meant he wanted her, he needed her, and he cared about her. As the ice bag slipped from her shoulder, his lips on hers told her all that. The kiss was passionate and masterful and absolutely everything a first kiss should be.

When he leaned away, their eyes locked and neither of them seemed able to speak.

He cleared his throat and spoke first. “That kiss was a long time in coming.”

“Do you regret it?” she asked, thinking he might. After all, everything up until now with Grant had been tense, sometimes awkward, but always filled with a bond they didn't want to admit they shared.

“I don't regret it. How about you? You're involved with Seth Randolph.”

She let out a sigh and shook her head. “Can I talk to you honestly about this?”

“You mean—do I want to hear I'm in second place?”

“Nothing like that. I'm beginning to think that Seth and I . . . maybe I was infatuated with the idea that a handsome doctor would want to date me. Maybe I was infatuated with the idea of connecting again with a man who thought I was special.”

Grant frowned. “Maybe
I
think you're special.”

“Yes, but you didn't want to admit it. You didn't want to admit anything, not even honest-to-goodness friendship. On Valentine's Day, I was so disappointed you didn't ask me to dance. I was so disappointed you left. I was so disappointed that we couldn't talk about ... us.”

“I wasn't ready,” Grant admitted.

“I know, and I didn't want to push you. I also really thought Seth and I had something that might last.”

Grant cocked his head and studied her. “So, what makes you think differently now?”

“I was supposed to meet his family this weekend.”

Grant's eyebrows shot up and his mouth tightened.

“But he called yesterday and canceled. He had a critical patient and he had to stay. And I understand that. I feel terrible thinking that we don't have a relationship because of his career. But he's never here. Even when he's here, I get the feeling he's not. He doesn't know what's going to happen after Baltimore, and he'll go where the best job is. He'll go where his career leads him.”

“And you?”

“I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay here with my family.”

Grant opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it again.

“What?” she prodded. “I want you to be honest with me and tell me what you're thinking.”

“I'm thinking that if you really love this guy, you'd follow him anywhere. Yes, family is important to you. But so are love and a relationship and having a family of your own.” Then he shook his head. “But I'm the wrong one to talk to about this, because I'm totally prejudiced. Now that
that kiss
happened, I'd like it to happen again.”

She'd like that, too.

Grant gently touched her face and pushed her hair behind her ear. He ran his thumb over her chin and afterward placed his hand on her shoulder. “How does this feel?”

“Like I need ice on it again.”

“I'll get the other cold pack in your freezer. What kind of takeout do you want?”

“I don't do takeout. I cook.”

“Not tonight.”

She sighed. “Morelli's has steak sandwiches to die for, and they deliver. The number's on my refrigerator.”

“So you don't do takeout?” he asked with a smile.

“Once in a very blue moon.”

“I'll check the color of the moon tonight. And while I'm calling to order, you need to call Carstead and ask him if he received the police report.”

That was a call she didn't want to make because she suspected his reaction would be even more vociferous than Grant's. She'd much rather just sit here and think about Grant's kiss. She'd much rather just sit here and consider the future.

Since that was so confusing, however, she took out her phone and she made the call.

Chapter Seventeen

When Caprice's mom phoned her early Saturday and asked her to come to Sunday dinner, Caprice was grateful she'd be spending her birthday with her family. She just hoped they wouldn't want to talk about her canceled weekend with Seth . . . or her feelings about it. So many mixed feelings about beginnings and endings, family and commitment. Nana and Grandpa De Luca had always been there for each other. Her parents' devotion to each other had never wavered. If her mom called her dad for help, he was there. If her dad needed her mom's strength, she gave it. Marriage was about giving 100 percent to a relationship. It was about putting your partner first.

To be honest, most of her thoughts had returned to Grant and his kiss and the conversation they'd had. That had occupied her waking moments.

Turning her attention to work, she planned for the open house fast approaching on Tuesday. While she did, the murder suspects ran through her head. Would she hear from Sherry Duncan's mother? Because if she didn't, she'd be calling Detective Carstead again. It was the right thing to do. When she'd called him last evening, the desk officer had informed her the detective was unavailable until Monday. Working on the case? A personal matter? None of her business. She'd simply left a message, asking him to call her as soon as he could.

Caprice had managed to convince Grant she'd be perfectly safe on her own until Carstead knew the situation. But Grant had insisted Juan pick her up today and bring her home from her work staging the glass house. She'd acquiesced.

Studying the glass walls, moving her shoulder a little to work out the stiffness, she decided the house, after a few hours of work, was stunning. The amount of sunlight flowing through the windows gave the interior an otherworldly feel as light bounced off the glass tables, as well as the crystal vases. Russet and green upholstered love seats, along with sofas and drapes, brought the exterior colors inside as the real estate agent shot photos and videotape. Caprice hoped for lots of sunlight on Tuesday to make the staging dramatic for the open house.

After early Mass on Sunday, Caprice walked through her neighborhood with Lady, making it a Zen experience. She breathed in deeply, took notice of every color and bud, listened to birdsong. Today was
her
day that she was going to enjoy in the ways she liked best—walking her dog, gardening, and spending time with family. What better way to spend her birthday.

Mirabelle, Sophia, and Lady thanked her for an extra round of treats with meows, purrs, and, in Lady's case, a little yip. Sophia and Mirabelle seemed to have drawn a truce. But Mirabelle still ran from Sophia, now and then, when Sophia gave her that big golden-eyed stare. Animals could communicate in telepathic ways so much easier than humans could.

Caprice gave thought to what she wanted to wear that evening and pulled out several outfits for Mirabelle and Lady's approval. Sprawled comfortably on Caprice's bed, Mirabelle slept through her first two choices. Lady cocked her head at each one, but she gave a flap of her ears that appeared to indicate she wasn't impressed.

Caprice finally pulled out a bohemian-style maxiskirt with ecru lace around the flowing handkerchief-style hem. The top was the same material as the skirt, with three-quarter bell sleeves trimmed with the same ecru lace as the hem.

At this choice, Mirabelle raised her head, yawned, then purred in approval. Lady stood, came to sniff at the hem, and then sat at Caprice's feet, looking up at her with an expression that suggested,
This one works.
From atop the chest of drawers, Sophia lounged, raised a white paw to her orange ear, and nodded.

“Okay, then,” Caprice told them. “All I need to complete it is that cute marcasite kitty necklace I found at the flea market.”

After she attached the necklace, she caught sight of Seth's bracelet stretched out on her dresser. Tonight she'd leave it at home. She wasn't angry with Seth because of the canceled weekend. Anger didn't enter into it at all. She was disappointed they hadn't talked further about it. She was upset he hadn't called again. Most of all, she was confused by what had happened with Grant and what it meant going forward.

Dinner with her family tonight was just what she needed to ground her.

She soon discovered that grounding might have to come from somewhere else.

Her van and her uncle Dom's car were the only vehicles parked in front of the family home. That wasn't unusual, since there was a detached garage around the back where her parents parked. Lady seemed abundantly eager as she and Caprice exited the van, climbed the steps to the yard, and then those to the porch. At the door, Lady did something she rarely did. She scratched at it.

Caprice laid her hand gently on Lady's head. “Whoa, girl. Eh-eh. Not something we do,” she said in a firm voice.

Lady just looked up at her and whined.

So, what was that about? A new behavior she'd have to work on discouraging?

When Caprice opened the door and stepped inside the foyer, she was surprised at all the quiet. Her mom, her dad, Nana, and her uncle did not come out to greet her. Had something terrible happened that she didn't know about? Certainly, someone would have called her.

Lady, however, didn't wait for questions to be answered. She ran ahead into the dining room; and to Caprice's amazement, two dogs came to meet her—Dylan and Patches.

Before she knew it, she was moving forward and then everyone was shouting, “Surprise!”

With her mouth agape, she scanned the crowd gathered and found not only her family, including Vince and Roz, Nikki, Bella, Joe and the kids, but Grant and—marvel of marvels—Seth.

“Happy birthday,” she heard again from her left, and there was Isaac Hobbs, and beside him was Dulcina. It was quite a gathering, and the table was laden with so much food she thought it might spill off.

“What did you do?” she asked her mother in a stern tone.

“It was Nana's idea,” her mom responded with a shrug and a broad smile.

When she rushed forward to hug them both, tears sprang to her eyes. Her thirty-third birthday was going to be an occasion she wouldn't soon forget. In a corner beside the buffet, which was loaded with beverages, Caprice caught a glimpse of a stack of presents. As the dogs ran into the living room to play, Caprice began a round of hugs for her other guests.

Isaac looked a bit embarrassed when she kissed him on the cheek. Then he muttered, “I couldn't miss my best customer's birthday.”

She laughed.

Dulcina said, “Your family knows how to make a girl feel at home. When your mom called, I knew I had to be here. Everyone's been so welcoming.”

“That's my family,” Caprice agreed. “Quirky but welcoming. I'm so glad you could come.”

After hugging the rest of her family, Grant came next. He was looking at her as if he wanted to kiss her again. He was smiling, but there was something else lurking in those gray eyes. She wondered if she'd find out tonight what it was.

“I'm glad you could be here,” she whispered into his neck as he hugged her.

He leaned away, but kept his arms around her. “I'm glad I could be here, too.” His voice was a bit husky and she wondered what else was going on in his mind. But this definitely wasn't the time or place to ask.

When she hugged Roz, Roz told her, “Your mom said Dylan was welcome to come.”

“He and Patches and Lady can have their own party,” Caprice assured her friend.

The last guest she was ready to welcome was Seth. He looked apologetic as he said, “Hi. I was surprised when your mom e-mailed me. I didn't know it was your birthday. I can't stay long, but I didn't want to miss your party. I thought it would be better to talk face-to-face than over the phone. Do you think we could snatch a few minutes later?”

How much later? How long could he stay? Would “can't stay long” mean he'd be here an hour ... two hours?

“Sure,” she assured him. “We can talk later. Just let me get my bearings and see what Mom has planned.”

When she moved away from Seth to speak with her mom, she realized she and Seth hadn't even hugged.

Her mom clapped her hands to catch everybody's attention. She announced, “First we're all going to enjoy some of this delicious food. Nikki and Bella and Nana and I don't want any leftovers. We set up folding chairs in the living room and the library. Pile up your plates and find a place to land. Then Caprice can open her presents and we'll have birthday cake. It's not an ordinary cake. Nana made one of her famous rum cakes, with a vanilla-cream center.”

“I hope it's big enough for all Caprice's candles,” Vince joked.

“Plenty of room for the candles,” Nana assured him. “And Dom will make certain we don't light anything on fire.”

When Nana gazed at her son, Caprice could see that her grandmother really had forgiven him. Maybe the tension would leave the family now.

However, as Caprice took a seat in the living room with a full plate, and found Seth on one side of her and Grant on the other, she could feel plenty of tension. In the past, when Seth was around, Grant had just taken a backseat ... or left.

Tonight, however, he was doing neither.

Because of all the guests, Isaac's colorful anecdotes about his customers, a discussion of whether a school day should be longer than it was, her father's input on new houses that were being constructed, and Bella and Nikki discussing a few new recipes, her conversation with Grant and Seth was kept to a minimum. She tried to give them equal time—talking to Grant about the renovations Kismet was planning to make for the dog park, and conversing with Seth about the traffic from Baltimore and if his patient was recovering. The man was. It seemed Seth had helped save another life. Caprice so admired his dedication, but ...

She about felt torn in two, sitting between Grant and Seth. After everyone had finished with their plates, and her father had gathered all of the paper into a large trash bag, Uncle Dom theatrically set a folding table in front of Caprice.

“Your Nana's rum cake needs a sturdy place to sit.”

“Now if we can convince the dogs not to run into the table . . . ,” Caprice said with a laugh.

Bella heard her. “Or Megan or Timmy!” She pointed to them as they sat with their electronic games on the other side of the room. They'd obviously had their orders to behave.

“After cake, if they're bored, they can play with the dogs on the sun porch. They won't be able to hurt anything in there.”

Bella just rolled her eyes. “We know how that goes.”

Joe chimed in. “I'll watch them so they don't get too rowdy.” He was holding baby Benedict and rocking him back and forth. “I can't believe Benny is still sleeping. I wish I could sleep that good.”

Caprice and Nikki and Vince were Benny's godparents. She hadn't spent as much time lately with him as she'd like. “Can I hold him for a little while? Until the cake comes in, anyway?”

Joe helped transfer the baby to her arms. He was three months old now and looked like a cherub as he slept. Caprice knew he could squall with the best of them, but holding him like this tugged on a corner of her heart. She wanted her own family. She wanted children. She glanced from Grant to Seth, and her heart began giving her answers. Nana had told her when Caprice figured out what she wanted, she should jump without a net. She might just have to do that tonight.

Nana's cake was absolutely scrumptious, even though Caprice was out of breath from blowing out thirty-three candles. And after the cake—who didn't like receiving presents? She was delighted by Isaac's present, a creamer shaped like a cat, reminiscent of the 1950s. Dulcina knew how much she liked flowers and had gifted her with four colorful place mats decorated with hydrangea sprays for her table.

And on it went. Roz gave her a vintage purse. Nana presented her with a beautiful turquoise sweater that had tiny pearl buttons. By the time she reached Grant's present, she didn't know what to expect. It was a gift box, about a foot square, wrapped in fuchsia paper, topped with a yellow bow. He knew she liked those sixties colors.

When she lifted the lid from the box and brushed the tissue aside, she gasped. It was a
Lady and the Tramp
statue. The two dogs were seated at a table covered with a checkered cloth sharing a spaghetti dinner. Grant knew
Lady and the Tramp
was her favorite Disney animated film. Was there a subtle message behind the gift? She and Grant were different in so many ways. Yet, when it came to gazing into each other's eyes over a spaghetti dinner ... maybe differences were what made life spicy.

After opening her uncle's gift, a book about gardening, she gave him a hug. Apparently, he'd been listening when she talked about what flowers she planted in her yard.

Next she turned to Seth's gift. He handed her an envelope. Inside she found a birthday card, as well as a generous gift card to her favorite online bookseller.

More presents, another piece of cake, and a second cup of coffee. The group was engrossed in animated conversation as Patches, Lady, and Dylan slept together near the fireplace hearth.

Seth stood and extended a hand to her. She had promised to give him a few minutes alone so they could talk. But as she stood, Grant touched her elbow. “Are you leaving?”

She looked around at all the guests who had come to celebrate with her. “No, I'm not leaving.”

He nodded. “Good, because I want to talk to you about having dinner later in the week.”

He obviously wanted to spend more time with her. She wanted to spend more time with him.

“I won't be too long,” she said, giving him a smile. She knew Seth would be leaving ... as he'd left before.