Pillow Talk (22 page)

"The sugar cane harvest is almost done but there's one field left to cut. Put on some old clothes and I'll show you how much there is to do at Sugar Bridge."

Meg's surprised expression held an appreciative smile. She probably thought he'd never walked barefoot or dressed down in his life. Two points that were pretty much true, except for the times Grandfather had let him spend summers at Sugar Bridge. Away from Teensy and his father, he'd roamed, explored, swam, fished, and rode.

"Kids?" Meg looked from Ellen to Teddy to Samantha.

"Sounds kind of hokey to me," Ellen said, one eye on Gus.

That was evidently all it took for her brother to say, "Best plan I've heard all day. Let's get Jem and go!"

"Jem's my dog," Gus said. "If I say he goes,
he goes. And if I say he doesn't, he doesn't."

"Oh, yeah?" Teddy doubled up his fists.

"Last one ready to leave is a rotten egg," Meg said. "And Jem goes only if Parker says it's okay for him to go in the car."

"Car? Hmm, we'll need a bus, but don't worry, I'll find one." Parker mentally counted heads. For this group, they'd need a van. Thankfully, Horton drove one. He'd go arrange to borrow it, change clothes, and call the office.

That conglomerate would have to wait another day to talk to
him
. He was leading a field trip to Sugar Bridge.

Twenty

S
ugar Bridge had been in the Ponthier family since
the days the family had settled in Louisiana in the late 1700's. The upriver plantation had served as home and production facility; the original Ponthier city home had naturally been in the French Quarter. It had been burned down twice and rebuilt, until the Ponthiers made the move to the Garden District, then on to Uptown in Grandfather's father's day.

Meg learned all this history from Parker as they drove out of the city, following the Mississippi River. Family tradition alone, though, didn't explain the almost boyish excitement in his voice as he described the country home.

When they approached the house from the river side, Meg immediately understood Parker's fondness.

A lane of massive oaks, trunks swayed this way and that as if giving testimony to a century of storms, led through a grassy park to a
two-story house. Meg caught a glance of pink or maybe rose through the trees.

Parker drove past the front and turned onto a gravel side road. As they approached the house from the side, Meg saw it was painted a shade of pink that shimmered from rose to pale raspberry depending on how the light touched it through the trees.

"How beautiful," she said.

Parker nodded. He stopped the van next to a small pickup.

"Does someone live here?" Meg asked as the kids tumbled out.

"Right now only the caretaker." With a rueful smile, he said, "In my dreams I'd live here, but it's so far from town and I'm always—"

"—so busy," Meg finished Parker's sentence along with him. It was a darn good thing she had to go back to Las Vegas. Here she was, falling for another workaholic. Hadn't she learned her lesson?

Halfway out of her seat, Meg stopped. Panic clutched at her like a spider web that, no matter how she pulled at it, wouldn't let go. Falling for Parker? No. No. No.

"No," she whispered, setting her feet on the gravel drive and staring at her Reeboks as if they could save her. It was one thing to give in to a night of passion, of lovemaking sweeter than she'd ever known. It was quite another to fall in love.

Parker held out his hand. "Coming?"

She lifted her head slowly. His hair, usually so neatly combed, had ruffled in the breeze. In contrast to his usual suits, he wore a Tulane sweatshirt, faded jeans, and trail boots. The expression in his eyes was warm and gentle and full of anticipation for the day.

"Yes," she said, knowing that as soon as possible, she would have to leave.

Rather than dampen her spirits, that thought motivated her day. Determined to savor every last minute of her time with Parker, she accepted his outstretched hand as she climbed from the van.

Jem danced around, yelping delightedly. A rooster pecked at the edge of the gravel and Jem took off after it. So did the boys and Ellen.

Samantha clung to her Ken and Barbie, a speculative look on her face as she skipped alongside Parker.

"You've got a new playmate," Meg said.

Parker smiled. "And if we were Ken and Barbie, I'd know exactly what to do on a date." He winked. "Maybe we'll get to practice soon."

She colored and pointed up the brick pathway that led to the house. "Time for a tour?"

"Think we should let them run off some of that energy first?"

"Right! Whatever am I saying?" Parker at least was thinking logically. For her part, Meg was wishing she was still holding Parker's
hand, but she didn't want to confuse the children by doing so in front of them.

Thankfully, they'd accepted her presence and their visit without much questioning. As cozy as Mrs. Fenniston and Grandfather had been, Meg suspected the children had decided they were old friends, which explained their stay with the Ponthiers.

"Remember the day Gus ran away?"

Meg nodded. While she'd been lost in her thoughts, they'd walked towards one of several side buildings. Parker opened the door to the low-ceilinged rambling structure.

"I thought we'd take everybody fishing."

Fishing. Meg pictured squirming worms but if it meant she'd be plastered to Parker's side, she'd squelch her queasiness. "I've never done that before," she said, "but I love to try new things."

Gus came barreling over, his sweatshirt and baggy shorts flapping. "I don't remember that rooster from last time."

Parker turned back from his search within the building, three fishing rods in his hands. "That rooster probably wasn't allowed indoors," he said.

Gus made a face of disgust. "Yeah, and when I came here I had to sit on that damn"— he spotted the rods, and a smile creased his face—"da
rn
porch."

Parker
handed a rod to Gus. "No porch-
sitting today," he said. "I'll go find Mr. Solomon—he's the caretaker—and get the rest of the things we need."

"Are we going out on the river?" Gus asked.

"Better than the river," Parker said. "We're going to my super secret fishing hole on Sugar Bayou. That's the stream that runs through the back of the land." And to Meg so only she heard he said, "An excellent spot for skinny dipping in the summer."

Her heart skipped at the image. Dappled sunlight reflecting on water that rippled and danced where she and Parker, deliciously naked, cavorted in the water before retiring to the bank to—Meg jerked her mind away from the thought.

Next summer she'd be back in Las Vegas, alternating between sweltering out of doors and freezing in the air-conditioned civilization fashioned out of the desert.

Fortunately she was distracted by the need to gather supplies, haul the ice chest Horton had packed out of the van, load everyone with gear, and march away from the house. Between her and Parker, they shared the load of the ice chest and trooped past a weathered semi
-
decayed structure that Parker identified as the remains of the earliest sugar mill on the plantation.

Jem ran ahead yelping and running back as if to announce he'd cleared the way for them. Soon they reached the banks of a narrow stream at a curve where it widened and rippled
over a cache of huge boulders piled at the bend.

“Jules and I pulled those rocks out of the middle of the stream so we could dive. Every summer we'd clear them again."

Parker gazed in silence for a moment, then
he
lowered the cooler to the ground. "I'm glad
we
came here."

“Clearing the rocks was one goal you and your brother agreed on."

He gave her a swift look. "That's exactly what I was thinking and it made me feel a lot better."

For the next hour Parker showed them the art and craft of fishing. To her relief, he used oddly shaped, brightly colored plastic lures rather than slimy worms. Gus, Ellen, and Teddy each wielded a rod with Parker moving among them along the edge of the stream.

Meg was more than happy to lean against a boulder with her youngest and play Ken on a
picnic
date with Barbie. Gus kept jerking on his pole and crying, "I got a bite! I got a bite!" He'd yank his line out of the water to find it dangling only the lure.

Teddy sat quietly, lost in his thoughts. Meg sometimes worried that Ted's death had scarred him in a way she wouldn't be able to help him heal. He'd been quieter than normal, acting older than his ten years. Meg was sure her husband had never taken Teddy fishing given they lived in the desert and she couldn't
remember any day trips to Lake Mead. Teddy had been his father's companion to basketball and baseball games.

It made Meg feel both sad and happy to see how easily her son took to Parker, patiently accepting instructions and then casting his line as if he'd been sitting beside a Louisiana stream for the ten years of his life.

Ellen's approach had a lot more in common with Gus's.

Meg watched Parker with a full heart as he worked with the kids. Her mind told her she hadn't known Parker long enough to have fallen in love with him.

But her heart answered otherwise.

After Barbie and Ken's end-of-date kiss, Samantha fell asleep with her head in Meg's lap, arms curled around her dolls. Meg stroked her hair lightly. Parker helped Gus cast his line yet again, then turned to her. "Sure you don't want to take a turn?"

She shook her head, too content to move. Or, as content as she could be knowing she would be heading back to Las Vegas with a hole in her heart bigger than Ponthier Place.

"What's next?" It was Ellen who asked the question. "This is getting bor—"

Her question ended in mid-sentence. "Hey!" She grabbed at her pole, which had jerked from her hands. She missed it and the pole skidded towards the stream.

With a shout, Gus threw himself on the pole
and clung to it. Parker grabbed Gus's original pole. "Easy, easy. Hang tight. Bring it up. Okay, now wind it in. Slowly. Nice and easy. That's it." The line broke the plane of the water and a flash of silver danced on the end of the line.

No matter what, Gus wasn't letting go. His face a study in determination, he fought the fish as it flung itself to and fro.

Ellen, standing now, was watching, her eyes fixed on the flapping fish.

Samantha woke with a start. Another commotion sounded and as Parker was helping Gus dump his prize into the bucket Mr. Solomon had provided, Teddy in much quieter fashion reeled in a fish, too.

Meg thought it likely Ellen would insist on sitting on the edge of the bank the rest of the day and night if it took that long for her to reel in her own fish, but she complained not at all when Parker said they needed to have their picnic and think about heading back.

And later, as they hiked back to the house,
her usually tough no-nonsense daughter took her hand and whispered, "I'm glad I didn't catch a fish because I felt sorry for it. It was so pret
ty and it was fighting for its l
ife but it lost."

Having sympathized with the fish, too, Meg gave her a hug, preparing to find words of comfort. But as soon as her daughter had pronounced her sentiments, she dashed off in pursuit of Gus and Teddy.

Parker smiled as Meg's daughter raced to catch up with the boys. Their start back to the house had been delayed by Gus and Teddy negotiating over who got to lug the bucket containing their catch. Gus had claimed precedence as he'd not only caught the first fish, but had saved Ellen from losing hers. Teddy refused to relinquish the honor, insisting reasonably enough that they had each caught one fish, therefore they could both carry the bucket.

Gus had finally settled by offering to let Teddy play with his prized pocketknife for the next hour if he let Gus have the sole privilege.

Parker enjoyed the exchange. Gus had mellowed so much in just the short time he'd been away from St. Suplicius.

Thanks to Meg.

He smiled at her over the ice chest they carried between them. During their picnic and walk back, the sun had dipped farther toward the west than he liked. He wished he could raise his arms and hold it back, delaying their return to New Orleans, to his life of putting duty before pleasure.

He still had to ask her about birth control and apologize for his rash behavior. He couldn't say he regretted the moment but his irresponsibility rankled with him. Well, he wouldn't be caught with his pants down again. Even today he'd come pr
epared. Just in case.

Okay, Parker, admit it, you w
ant her. And bad.
He
glanced back at Meg. She'd been awfully quiet all afternoon. "Penny for your thoughts."

A flash of her usual spirit crossed her face. "Does anyone really say that?"

He nodded, what he knew must be a goofy grin on his face.

"Okay, then," she said, "I'm just absorbing the moment. What's it like here in the summer?"

Had she
been thinking about his skinny-
dipping comment? He hoped so. "I wish I could say it's equally beautiful in the middle
of
July but actually it's hot and humid and the air is abuzz with mosquitoes."

She looked surprised. "But you said you loved coming here in the summer."

"The bad stuff fades in your memory, doesn't it?" He grinned. "What's a ten-year-old care about a few dozen insect bites? Imagine Gus and Teddy. If they're that happy with one fish apiece, they'd go nuts over a basketful."

She laughed. "Do you still spend summers here?"

"Only a few days here and there. But now I plan to spend a lot more time."

"Now?"

"Sure. I can't let Gus and Teddy grow up without bucketsful of fish."

"Teddy?"

Her voice carried an edge to it. He'd gone
and
done it again. Organizing her life like a
bossy Ponthier. "I mean, if you'd want me to invite Teddy, I'd bring him, too.”

"Oh." Either his answer or the question or both made her sad. He felt the weight of her sorrow. Her step slowed.

He matched his pace to hers. Before he could say anything else, Ellen and Samantha ran back to them. "What's next?" Ellen asked, clearly expecting to be entertained further.