Twilight (45 page)

There was nothing like the smell of spring, not in the woods after a rain. The last few months had been wetter than usual, and the blooms would be profuse once they started. Cal squelched the wet leaves under his boots and watched Annie bound off after a squirrel. The critter led her on a merry chase, staying close enough to tantalize, then blithely going its own way. Annie returned frustrated and panting.

Cal laughed and reassured her with his hands. “Maybe next time, girl.” He breathed the March air deeply into his lungs. There was still a twinge sometimes when he fully expanded his diaphragm, but it was good to breathe without having to guard himself. Cal bent and picked up a long, straight branch, stabbing it into the earth as he walked.

The new buds gave the woods a hazy green hue that the evening light played on through the shadows. It was the kind of beauty that choked you up if you weren’t ready for it. It still got to him sometimes.

Annie bounded off again. She obviously hadn’t taken her defeat too badly. There were more squirrels, more opportunities. More roads not taken. Cal caught that thought and held it, though it brought an all-too-familiar pang.

Pastor Lucas had spoken on the aftereffects of forgiven sin. Forgiveness didn’t negate the effects of wrong actions. There was still a price to pay. Cal had made love to Laurie when she wasn’t his by covenant. He hadn’t known it was wrong when it felt so right. But his ignorance hadn’t changed God’s immutable law. He’d taken what didn’t belong to him, ruined her virtue, and hurt her in a way he only now understood.

Maybe that was why he’d never have her again. He had stood at the fork and taken the wrong road. What if he’d taken the other?

Cal stopped and eyed the gnarled feet of a granddaddy oak, then perched on one woody knee. He leaned his head back against the trunk and watched the night steal into the woods. The sun had departed, but the aura of it still remained, leaving streaks of fire across the sky, fading from gold to gray. Twilight.

One star winked at him overhead. Not a star really; it was Venus. Annie came back and lay panting at his feet, turning her head occasionally to follow a sound, then licking her chops and settling in again. He reached down and stroked her ears. If this was all he ever had, he’d be grateful.

Annie whined softly and licked his hand.

“I know. You want your supper.” He stood and headed back with Annie making circles around him.

For some reason, he pictured Laurie, stooping down and fondling the dog’s head.
“So this is Annie. Why would anyone dump such a nice dog?”
And his smart-mouth reply:
“I don’t know, but she keeps my bed warm at night.”
“That’s right, Annie.” He stooped and fondled her head. “Guess dog is man’s best friend.”

She bounded ahead and returned, faithful in every part of her nature. They reached the house, and he scooped the daily paper from the stoop where it had lain all day, then climbed the stairs. He could smell the new coat of beige paint he and Ray had given the place. That had been an adventure he wouldn’t repeat soon. Ray meant well, but don’t ask him to hold your ladder.

He went inside and tossed the paper on the table, filled Annie’s bowl, and changed her water. Then he sat. He should eat something, too, but some nights it just wasn’t worth the trouble. He opened the paper and perused the pages.

He was on his forty-eight hours off after two twenty-four hour shifts on the line. He made sure his other job description didn’t keep him from active duty as often as Frank allowed. To accommodate the community service hours ordered by the court, he volunteered for small “rescue missions” with the Chr istian Fellowship Church Brother Lucas pastored. Through the winter, he’d delivered meals or groceries to shut-ins, mainly elderly folk who couldn’t go out in the cold on bad roads. He’d done whatever odd-jobs they had for him.

Now with spring on the way, he still made the rounds. They needed conversation and attention as much as any errand he might run. Missie Jones always had something. She’d been crankier than Mildred the first time he brought her a meal, even accused him of conniving to get inside her home and steal her china. Now she had tea or lemonade waiting in the pitcher and a dozen little things she couldn’t quite manage on her own.

Cal looked up from the paper and smiled. Missie was a little wasp of a woman with a terrier temper, but he’d won her heart somehow. Then there was Douglas Walberg, a stately gent who hated the fact that his arthritic body would not allow him to care for himself entirely. Cal was careful never to overstep what Douglas actually could do.

That went for Donny too. Highly functional Down’s syndrome meant Donny just needed checking on. Cal had quietly taken care of a few potentially dangerous situations in Donny’s trailer, but mostly just befriended him. Donny smiled more than anyone, and wouldn’t you know, his grin was as contagious as Reggie’s. Cal was a sap.

Annie finished her meal and lay down at his feet. He kicked off his shoe and stroked her with his foot as he flipped a page of the paper. Maybe he’d write a new skit. Maybe not. These days he gave himself permission to do nothing. He turned to the classifieds, saw Ray’s ad for odd-jobs right there, top billing. Good for Ray.

He turned the page again, and there she was. Laurie’s face, radiant and lovely, heartbreakingly so. He felt it deep inside, just looking at her in ink on newsprint. Reluctantly, he took his eyes from the photo and read the caption.
Announcing the engagement of Laurie Sutton Prelane, daughter of Marjorie Welks Sutton and Leonard Sutton, deceased …

Engagement
. Cal’s throat tightened as he scanned the words. Engaged to Stuart Frederick Prelane, Jr; son of Wanda Prelane and former-California senator and business mogul Stuart Prelane, Sr. Nuptials are set for …

He expelled his breath with a sharp laugh that actually hurt. Brian’s brother. Did it never end? He dropped his face into his hand, fighting to find the gratefulness he’d known in the woods, the acceptance of God’s will. He looked again at Laurie’s picture. At least he knew now that road would never be taken. He snatched up his jacket and headed back out to the woods.

Laurie hadn’t expected Stuart. She had the table set with paper wrappers from the McDonald’s burgers and plastic packages of ketchup beside the fries. Luke was sucking noisily on his soda when she went to open the door.

“Hi.” Stuart handed her a single rose.

“Stuart, I … did we have something I forgot?”

“No. Thought I’d surprise you.” Something spontaneous from Stuart Prelane?

She touched the rose to her nose, breathing lightly, and forcing a quick image of peach roses and baby’s breath from her mind. “We were just having dinner.”

He glanced past her to the dining room, partly visible from the entry.

“We’re in the kitchen, the kids and me—having McDonald’s. If I’d known you were coming,” she sent him an impish smile, “I’d have ordered you a Big Mac.”

His smile was passive and indulgent. “No thanks.” He took her into his arms. “I thought I’d steal you away to the Douglas party.” As in Michael Douglas. Malibu Colony.

“Oh.” She’d known Stuart’s theater work and political contacts had opened doors to Hollywood’s activists and that he’d developed relationships with actors, writers, and producers. But she hadn’t realized … Brian had mingled with the big names in sports, but to walk into a room filled with faces she’d seen larger than life on the screen … And here he was asking her along.

But she had two eager children waiting for her at the table, and a burger—no ketchup, extra pickles—on her own paper wrapper. They hadn’t had dinner together in too long, thus the splurge to McDonald’s. “Well, come in.”

He cocked his head. “Am I interrupting?”

“Of course not.”

“Then …” He lowered his eyes to her lips.

She reached up and kissed him. People Magazine had done an article on the men women most wanted to kiss. Stuart had been among them.

“What about my offer?”

She settled back and looked toward the kitchen. “The children …”

“Isn’t Gail here?”

“Yes, but …”

He pulled her back to his chest, caressed her hair. “Is it too much to take my fiancée to a great party unexpectedly?”

She smiled. “No. I had just planned on an evening with the kids. I’ve been so busy. Why don’t we … I could make you a sandwich?”

“Now that’s exciting.”

She couldn’t tell by his smile if he were irked or not, but he motioned her on. As she led him into the kitchen, she hoped the children would behave. Lately Luke had been acting out in small but annoying ways. And Maddie was not her best in the evening, even with McDonald’s.

“Hi, Uncle Stuart.” Luke’s greeting was at least congenial.

“Hi, Luke.” Stuart patted his head.

Maddie drenched a fry in ketchup and held it up. “Want a French fry?”

“No thanks.” Stuart removed his suit coat and started to hang it on a stool back, then folded it onto a far counter instead. Smart man. Meticulous.

Laurie walked to the refrigerator. “Turkey, ham, or beef?”

“Why don’t you just have your burger while it’s semi-palatable.”

She glanced at him. “I can cut it in half.”

Maddie held up her own half-eaten burger. “Want mine?”

Stuart held up his hands. “No thanks, Maddie.”

Now Laurie did detect annoyance. Her appetite died. The levity they’d shared moments ago when Luke walked his French fries like stilts had evaporated. It wasn’t Stuart’s fault. He just changed the dynamic.

Maddie dipped a French fry in her Coke and tried to feed it to Luke. Luke pushed her away.

Maddie wiggled it under his hand. “Eat it. It’s good.”

Luke pushed again.

Giggling, Maddie slipped out of her stool and ran over to climb the legs of Stuart’s stool. “Eat it, Uncle Stuart.” Her exuberance carried the fry into his cheek.

“Stop it, Maddie.” He pushed it away and wiped the salty moisture from his face, then caught her hand when she lunged once more with the French fry.

“Maddie.” Laurie went around and caught her. “He doesn’t want it.” She took the fry from Maddie’s hand, then scooped her up and replaced her in her stool.

“Cal would eat it.” Luke opened his bun and pulled out a pickle.

Laurie tensed.

Stuart dabbed his fingers on an extra napkin. “No one would eat a soggy French fry soaked in Coke.”

“Cal would.” Luke rolled the pickle into a worm. “He ate a grasshopper once.”

“Yucky.” Maddie scrunched up her nose.

“I think your friend is telling you tales, Luke.” Stuart rested his elbow on the chair back.

Luke shot him a glance that sent Laurie’s warning flags to full mast. “Cal doesn’t lie. I asked him why the fish liked eating bugs, and he said they were good.”

“Sometimes kids say things.”

“He’s not a kid.”

“Luke.” Laurie handed him a fresh napkin for his messy fingers. “Don’t play with your food.”

“He did it on a dare.”

Laurie could hardly doubt it. Knowing Cal, it wasn’t the worst thing he’d done on a dare. But she did not want that discussed now. “Finish your hamburger, Luke.” The meal had lost all magic. It was now a marathon.

“He ate a grasshopper and an ant, but the ant was covered in chocolate.”

“Uh-huh.” Stuart flashed a quick smile, then looked at Laurie and tapped his watch. “Do you think …”

“You wouldn’t eat a grasshopper.” Luke poked his finger at Stuart.

Stuart turned back to Luke. “No, I wouldn’t. Neither would you.”

“I would too. I’d do anything Cal did.”

Laurie noted the flush creeping into Luke’s cheeks.
Please let him stop now
. “Honey …”

Stuart cocked his head. “So if your friend jumped off a bridge, you would too?”

“He wouldn’t jump off a br idge. It’s dangerous. He teaches
safety
.”

“Is that right.” Stuart stood and reached for his suit coat.

“He’s a clown.” Maddie soared her French fry into the ketchup and sank it up to her first knuckles.

“Maddie.” Laurie lifted her hand and rubbed the fingers with a napkin.

Stuart raised his eyebrows. “They’re nearly finished. I think we should go.”

“Mommy’s reading stories.” Maddie stood up on her stool and wrapped her arms around Laurie.

Laurie looked from her daughter’s upturned face to Stuart. “I did promise.”

“You could tell me a story.” Luke’s tone was almost belligerent. “Cal’s a fireman. He fought a wildfire. They have these little tents they carry, and if the fire turns back they zip themselves into the tents and the fire burns right over them.”

Laurie had sudden images of smoke and flame and Cal’s grip on her arm, pushing her to safety when the roof crashed down around him. They’d had no little fireproof tents then. When had Luke gotten all this from Cal? What time had they spent …

“I bet
you
never fought a fire.” Luke jabbed a finger toward Stuart.

“No, you’re right. But I fly a jet. Want to hear about that?”

Caught off guard, Luke cocked his head. “Okay.”

Laurie turned to Stuart. He raised his brows, and she quickly hid her surprise.

Luke slid out of his stool. “Did you ever crash one?”