Paper Moon (28 page)
“Not a problem,” Blaine insisted. “We've been fascinated.”
By the time dessert was served, the sisters had exchanged addresses with Caroline. On hearing that Caroline ran a day care center, Eloise insisted on sending to the children a burro piñata that she'd won in a drawing.
“What would I do with the bloomin' thing?” she blustered when Caroline tried to refuse. “I'll pay the postage to get it off my hands.”
“No need. If you insist on giving it away, it will fit into my spare case.” God worked in strange ways. Caroline had reconciled herself to doing without a piñata after giving so much of her change and paper money away. Mexican money didn't look real, so it seemed to go faster . . . and the people needed it more than her kids needed piñatas. “Thanks so much.”
“You can thank me with a wedding invitation.”
“A what?”
The big woman took Caroline's hand. “Sweetie, if you aren't married to this handsome fella here, you ought to be.”
An outbreak of applause saved Caroline from having to reply.
Below on the viewing platform, a torch-lit parade parted the thick sea of onlookers.
“Maybe we should listen to our elders,” Blaine whispered in her ear.
Despite his impish expression, Caroline missed the first men diving into the water below the cliffs. By the time her shock thawed, they were swimming toward the opposite cliff.
Was that a proposal?
The surf on the ragged rocks below mirrored the sudden churn of delicious beef she'd shared with Blaine at dinner . . .
for two
. Toy-sized at the distance, the dark, sun-bronzed swimmers heaved themselves up on a craggy ledge.
Did she even want a proposal?
Blaine was probably just playing along with their guests, she told herself, focusing on the four scaling the cliff side like human spiders. In a distant dimension of the present, Annie, Karen, and the two sisters rated the divers on a hunk scale of one to ten.
“Scrawny, but brawny,” Eloise declared in defense of her score.
Enchanted by the lively senior duo, Annie giggled. “You are
so
funny.”
But what if Blaine was serious? Was she ready for that? She'd only
known the man five days. But then the passage of time didn't exactly
ensure love everlasting. She'd dated Frank all through high school, and
look at the disaster that turned out to be.
Once they reached the top of the cliff, the men prayed and crossed themselves at the shrine of the Lady of Guadalupe, silencing the crowd with their reverence. In order to see more clearly, Blaine scooted closer. With one set of senses, Caroline noted that the divers had taken positions farther down the cliff side, while another set registered Blaine's nearness. His body heat, alternately soothing and arousing, mixed Caroline's thoughts with blades of confusion.
Across the rocky, narrow channel, a single diver saluted the crowd and leapt into thin air.
Her heart did a simultaneous flip with the man before he plunged into the thrashing surf below. Was she willing to take such an emotional plunge?
Cameras clicked and flashed. Applause erupted from the onlookers, but it was just background noise to the quandary brewing in Caroline's mind. Divers two and three now saluted the crowd.
Besides, she wouldn't be leaping alone. There was Annie to consider. Sure, her daughter was charmed by Blaine, but Caroline knew all too well that courtship and marriage were two different matters. Annie was in love with love.
The two athletes flew off the jagged rock in a choreographed air ballet and struck the water below at the same time.
What if she and Annie didn't bob to the surface like the men below when the tide overwhelmed them? Caroline had survived one marriage on the rocks. Dare she risk two?
The narratorâover speakers placed strategically throughout the crowdâcalled for silence. Everyone's attention now focused on the last man, who stood at the highest peak. The lights went out, casting the cliff side in dramatic darkness. Not only had the sun sneaked down during dinner, but it had dragged the last remnants of light below the horizon with it. Tall, wiry, and straight-backed, the diver was a silhouette against the evening sky.
“Omigosh, look.” Annie pointed below where the previous divers lit newspapers. They lined the rocks below with the makeshift torches, creating a primitive ring of fire to guide their colleague to the fluctuating pool.
“Good thing they prayed first,” Karen quipped to no one in particular.
Good thing they prayed first.
The remark robbed the wind from the sails of Caroline's doubt. She let out the breath she'd inadvertently held and, with it, the gathering anxiety.
If or when the time came for her to make such a dive, all she had to do was pray first. Until then, she needed to follow Eloise and Irene's philosophy. Grab life while she could still catch it. And she'd come to Mexico to grab. Turning from the table to fold her arms on the adjacent balcony rail, Caroline rested her chin on them to watch the last man. Like him, she was in God's hands.
With a final salute, he launched from the highest peak, plummeting like a hawk after prey, ever lower and lower. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause at his seamless entry through the ring of fire and rock into the sea. Smiling, Caroline joined them.
On returning from the diving exhibition, Blaine pocketed the receipt for the family snorkeling adventure he'd booked for the morning and made his way from the tour office to the Cabana Azul. One of the two excursions the girls wanted was better than none, he thought, although they'd be disappointed. The excursion to a private island for fishing and horseback riding was sold out. End of story.
A mingle of cigarette smoke, perfume, and salt sea air assailed his nostrils as Blaine searched for his little group. Guests relaxed on the rattan furniture, which was arranged in cozy clusters throughout the spacious open-air room. He found Caroline beyond a screen of a large fanning palm plant saying good night to the two sisters, who, it turned out, were staying at the same hotel.
Karen and Annie had reunited with John and his friend, taking seats across the room as far as possible from the adults. Like a bad penny, that boy kept showing up, Blaine thought, dropping down on a tropical-print love seat next to Caroline.
“What a pair,” she observed a few minutes later when the ladies took their leave.
Eloise parted the crowded lobby like the Red Sea with her booming voice and her sister's wheelchair.
“When I grow up, I want to be just like them . . . living life to its fullest. I don't want to miss anything.”
She leaned her head against the arm Blaine had slipped behind her and gave him a look that made him forget everything but the woman behind the many dimensions of her gaze. Who needed a night sky when all the stars in the universe twinkled there? He wanted to spirit her away and kiss the sweetness of her smile, hold her soft body, show her just what she was missing . . . what they both were missing.
A squeal from across the room braked the passion that was gaining momentum in his blood. Karen had launched a playful attack on John, and in response he had pinned her against the couch and was tickling her. Blaine glared in the teens' direction, a cross between a groan and a growl vibrating through his lips. No man should be torn between kissing a captivating woman and protecting his daughter from another male with the same hormones stampeding his brain. Not at the same time.
“Time to go to bed.” Caroline's tired purr and feline stretch turned up Blaine's frustration another notch. “We have to be at the dock at eight, right?”
His throat went dry as a desert wanderer's, the water just beyond his reach. He cleared away the dust and frustration. “That's the plan,” he answered. Not
his
plan, but the plan nonetheless.
The following morning, Karen awoke in a major tizzy. With the drapes thrown back to bathe the hotel room in the morning light reflecting off the bay, she dug through the bags of souvenirs that Caroline had packed in the spare cases. “I can't find it.”
“It's got to be there somewhere,” Annie assured her.
Caroline tugged on a big gauze overshirt that matched her swimsuit. “Find what, honey? What are you looking for?”
Staring at the pile of purchases in exasperation, Karen put her hands on her hips. “A stupid card . . . I . . . I had a card for John, and I've lost it.”
At that moment, a sharp knock sounded on the connecting door. “You ladies almost ready?”
Caroline pulled it open. “Sure, come on in.”
“I missed you on the beach this morning.” Blaine leaned against the doorjamb, head cocked. He'd tried to talk her into joining him for a morning jog on the beach, to no avail.
“As someone somewhere once said, my idea of exercise is a brisk sit.”
“You missed a beautiful sunrise.”
“I'll buy a postcard.” She turned her attention from his vexed face to where the girls stuffed, rustled, and zipped the booty-to-date in the bags.
“Honey,” she said to Karen, “I'm sure we can buy another one in the hotel gift shop.”
“Another what?” her father asked.
“Karen misplaced a card she got for John,” Caroline explained.
Blaine's face darkened for a split second, but he mastered his disdain. “We have to get going now. She can get it later.”
“Yeah,” Annie consoled her friend. “We don't have to have it until tonight, and it's not like it has to be that very one, right?”
Karen shrugged in reluctant resignation. “I guess not.”
A ping of suspicion surfaced on Caroline's motherly radar, but she quickly dismissed it.
It was probably personal,
she thought, as the girls ran ahead to ring for the elevator.
“How about a compromise?”
Caroline gave Blaine a blank look. “A who?”
He put his arm around her and coaxed her into the elevator like a carnival hawker about to fleece an unsuspecting country girl. “A compromise,” he repeated. “Join me for a
walk
on the beach tomorrow morning.”
She pretended to contemplate the offer on the way down to the lobby. “Okay,” she said when the doors rolled open, “but I'm warning youâ”
“I know.” He held the doors back until the others were off. “You don't do mornings.” Turning, he gave her a peck on the cheek.
“We'll have to work on that.”