She did not respond. He cleared his throat and changed the subject because evidently he had overstepped that damned line again.
On Thursday it did not take her long to pull in a very nice catch. They returned to Ray's house and decided to go for a run before the first football game started. Before they turned around to go back to his house, they ended up at the public beach which was nearly deserted. They slowed down and walked along the shore to the end of the beach. She was quiet. He felt awkward with her for some reason. He decided to ignore that feeling. He took her hand. He was encouraged by the fact that she did not pull away.
They walked in silence for a while, hand in hand. Finally, he got up the courage to say, “I'm sorry if I came on too strong in the Keys. I don't know what got into me. Since we've been back, I noticed you have been a bit distant. I hope you are not upset with me.”
She was very tense. For just a fraction of a second it seemed to him she was about to recoil. He expected her to let go of his hand and pull away. She did, in fact, let go of his hand. He felt his whole body deflate. He had blown it!
But she surprised him. Instead of pulling back and telling him she wasn't ready for a relationship, she slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. He circled her waist with his arm. They slowed even more and walked along the shoreline, staying just far enough away from the water to avoid getting their feet wet, but close enough that their shoes squished in the wet sand. They walked to the end of the public beach, and then paused to rest on a bench near the jetty. She was very tense but she never let go of him. He put his hand on her hair and then it fall to her shoulder.
He whispered, “I know you are not ready for a relationship yet. I promise to try to be patient and give you all the time you need. I guess I would appreciate it if you would give me a chance when you're ready.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and tightened her grip around his waist, “Oh, we are way too far down the road for that. I guess that's the problem. That night in the Keys when we sat outside and talked, I felt something I haven't ever felt with a man before.”
“What was that?”
“Safe. I guess it scared me a little.”
“Forgive me for pointing out an obvious fact: that makes no sense.”
“Since when do matters of the heart make sense? Actually, it makes perfect sense to me. I am used to always being on guard. I am used to having to be on the defensive all the time. I have never had anyone in my life, at least not since my mother died, with whom I could completely relax and who I felt I could trust without reservation. After Mama died, I never felt that way again until that evening with you. The reason it scared me was because I didn't know what to do next. I still don't.”
He leaned his head against hers and whispered, “When the time comes for us to do something different than what we are doing now, I think we'll both know.”
She looked up into his eyes, “Did I not recently brag about being utterly fearless?”
He smiled back at her and said, “I believe you did.”
She looked away and smiled with her mouth, but not her eyes, “I think I finally found something I am afraid of.”
“What?”
“You.”
“I thought you trust me and feel safe with me.”
“I do feel safe and trust you. That's what scares me: What if I'm wrong?”
“You aren't wrong.”
She chuckled, “Worse still: what if I'm right?”
He laughed too, “Then I guess we'll sort of be stuck with each other and we'll have to deal with that.”
She sighed, but it didn't strike him as a contented sigh at all. It struck him much more as frustration. He didn't quite know what to make of that. She shook him out of his worry, though, by tilting her chin up and kissing him – softly and quickly – on the lips. Before he had a chance to kiss her back, she stood up and said, “Come on. Your football games await you and there's a stringer of fish waiting for me that isn't getting any fresher.”
They walked for a short distance and then started running back in the direction of his house. When they arrived she suggested he take his shower first while she cleaned the fish. He usually did not catch fish, so he had no permanent cleaning station. When he bought whole fish from the market, he cleaned them outside on a piece of wood he laid across a couple of saw horses. He set her up under a tree and hooked up the hose so she would have water. Then he went inside to shower.
He was amazed at how quickly and efficiently she worked. By the time he came back outside, she was finished cleaning the fish and had the fillets bagged and on ice in a small cooler. The rest of the carcasses were bagged just as neatly and ready for the garbage. She was hosing down the cleaning station when he came outside. She looked up at him and laughed, “Maybe you should bring me some soap and just squirt me off here. It would avoid messing up your bathroom.”
He smiled and said, “Hand me the hose!”
Instead she turned it on him and sprayed him. He jumped over the railing and wrestled it away from her, soaking them both as they struggled for control of the nozzle. Eventually, she managed to turn it off. She looked up at him and said, “Well, that was mature.”
He pulled her close and pushed her wet and tangled hair from her face. “You will have to admit it was kind of fun.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I think you need another shower..... a cold one.”
He said, “You want some company?”
She pulled away, “No thanks. I think I can manage.”
She was back from her shower in a flash, bustling around the kitchen, making an unholy racket, in his opinion. He went into the kitchen to fetch a beer and said, “I take it your husband was not a football fan.”
She thought about that for a minute and said, “I think he enjoyed the game, but he was not what you would call a fan. We went to a lot of games, but usually for business reasons. He watched games on TV, but I think mainly for the purpose of knowing what happened in order to talk about it at work the next day. He never yelled or hollered. And he never made those horrible faces if I made noise during the games. I will note here that we had kitchen help and the kitchen was very far from the TV room. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll try to be quiet.”
He grinned at her and handed her a bottle of beer, “Why don't you do even better. Why don't you sit down and watch the game with me?”
“Really?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I don't know. I guess I always thought football was a guy thing. I was hauled along to Super Bowls with other spouses, but I was never invited to sit down and watch televised games.”
“Well, this is Florida, honey. Florida gals, of which you are one whether you like it or not, are expected to paint up, tease their hair and holler and scream along with the menfolk. Football is a family event in my world.”
She took the beer, looked around the kitchen and satisfied herself she was in good shape and then said, “Okay. Lead on. It's been ages since I sat actually watched a whole football game. You may have to explain things to me.”
She didn't know the players or the current standings, but it quickly became apparent that she understood the the game well indeed. She always knew who had the ball. She spotted penalties before refs did and she understood all the intricacies of the rules. Ray said, “I thought you said you hadn't watched football before.”
“I said I hadn't watched football in a long time. I didn't say I had never watched it. My dad was a big football fan. Unlike you, he didn't really want company when he watched games, but I had to be quiet and the only other thing to do on Sunday afternoons when we didn't have charters was homework, which was the bottom thing on my priority list. So I'd sit quietly in a corner of the room and watch the games, too.”
They watched the Lions game until they got hungry. It wasn't much of a game, so they turned off the TV and Marcella finished up in the kitchen while Ray manned the grill. They finished eating about the time the Dall
as game came on. They curled up on the couch together with coffee and enjoyed the game. At half-time she called her driver to pick her up when the game was over.
About mid-way through the fourth quarter Ray saw the headlights of her car pull in the driveway. Immediately the driver turned off the lights and the engine. He would wait until she came out, whenever that might be. Ray wondered what the driver did sitting out there in the dark. He thought it must be a hell of a boring life. He would have got up and invited the driver inside, but Marcella didn't appear to have even noticed. The driver was her employee so Ray did not butt in.
When the game was over, Ray walked her to the door. As she reached for the knob, he put his arms around her and drew her to him. Her arms went around him as well and they clung to each other for a long minute. She kissed him quickly and said, “Thank you for perhaps the best Thanksgiving I have ever had.” He held her tightly for a moment, but she pulled away and murmured, “He's waited a long time already.”
Chapter 16
As the high school football season reached its climax and the college bowl games loomed, Ray was working harder than ever. He decided he wasn't quite so thrilled with the life of a sportswriter after all. Attending so many sporting events soon got to be a drag, especially when it became obvious the paper wasn't going to let up on any of his other job requirements. The good news was that he was getting a lot of good feedback for his writing for the first time in a long time. He seemed to have rediscovered his voice, and writing was fun again.
He had received the invitation to Victoria's fund-raising event before Thanksgiving. He delayed mentioning it to Marcella until it was almost too late. The week after Thanksgiving, they ran on Longboat Key and then ordered pizza delivered to Marcella's house. While they were sitting on the lanai waiting for the pizza, he said, “I feel like a jerk for waiting so long to mention this; I have no excuse other than that I am an idiot. Anyway, Victoria Caruthers is hosting a charity event to raise money to expand the children's wing of the hospital. It won't be a Palm Beach ball, because Victoria a serious fund-raiser as opposed to a party-girl who uses charities as an excuse to throw a bash. Her fund raisers are all about raising money for the intended charity. It won't be opulent. It will be expensive. They will squeeze us for money at every turn all night long. I know that sounds like positively the most wonderful evening imaginable, but I want to go and I would love for you to be my date.”
She laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. She said, “Honestly, I have never heard such a delightful proposition, one I absolutely could not imagine rejecting. Let me guess. Victoria wanted to invite me directly but figured that if she invited you, you would invite me to be your guest. That way Victoria can hit us both up for donations.”
He nodded, “That's pretty much the way it was presented to me.”
She looked at him strangely, “You like that old battle-axe, don't you?”
“Yes, I do. I really would appreciate it if you would give her a chance. She is different from most of the other old bats in her circle. She's tough and smart and direct. She calls it like she sees it. I am sure that she can employ plenty of cattiness when the situation calls for it but she strikes me as being more of an in-your-face kind of person as opposed to someone who would stab you in the back. When it comes to raising money for the community, she is without peer.
“I know I made it sound bad, but it really won't be all that awful. I know the caterer Victoria uses; the food will be fabulous. There will be music by the best big-band orchestra around.” He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Best of all, you'll get to see the unusual sight of me dressed up in a tux.”
She laughed, “That would be worth a few hundred dollars all by itself.”
He frowned and said, “Oh, yeah??”
She asked, “How much are the tickets?”
“I've already bought the tickets. That and the cash bar will be my contribution to the Cause. Should you wish to make a donation, it will go straight into the kitty.”
She nodded, “Okay, since you asked so nicely and since it is for a good cause, I will play Cinderella to your Prince Charming and I will make a donation that will be large enough to make Victoria Caruthers happy but not so large as to attract any undue attention from people who think I should not have any money. If we can work it out, I would like to make my contribution anonymously. Maybe I can work that out with Ms. Caruthers or someone on her committee.”
She cocked her head and looked at him with an appraising eye, “Do you own a tux?”
He shook his head and laughed, “Of course not. I already have reserved a rental.”
It was her turn to shake her head, “Oh, no you don't. There is a big difference between a rented tux and a tux owned by and tailored to the wearer. I'm not going to a party with a man in rented clothes. Stand up.”
“What?”
She hurried into the bedroom and was back in a flash with a tape measure. “I said, 'Stand up.'” He stood and she took his measurements like a professional tailor. She looked at the clock and said, “I can never figure this stuff out. What day and time is it in Hong Kong?”
He looked at the clock, “Yesterday afternoon.”
She clicked open her cell phone and found a number in the contacts. A few minutes later she was giving someone his measurements and ordering a black tuxedo for rush delivery by the end of the following week, to allow time for local alterations if necessary. When she was finished, he asked, “How much is that going to set me back?”
She smiled, “Consider it an early Christmas present from me. You'll need it if I'm going to let myself be drawn into the social life of Sarasota.”
He started to object, but she put up her hand. He knew he couldn't afford the suit anyway, so he'd let her pay for it. He wondered for a second just how much money she had. He let that thought go as soon as it broke the surface of his consciousness.
Later that week he stopped for tea at Victoria's and told her that he would be attending the event with Marcella. She looked at him through narrowed eyes and said, “Are you sure you are not getting too involved with her?”
He made a face, “What does 'too involved' mean?”
“I thought reporters tried not to get emotionally involved with their stories.”
“I guess I've sort of given up the idea of making Marcella the subject of a story. If there is a story there, someone else will have to tell it. There is definitely a mystery about her, and I'd like to find out more about her, but I want to know for my own purposes and not for publication. I've promised her that much.”
Victoria did not say anything, but Ray could feel her disapproval in the air.
A few days later, Marcella called to tell him the tux had arrived. She asked him to stop by to try it on. He drove to her house with some trepidation. She had ordered not only the suit and cumber bun but also two shirts and the requisite studs and other go-withs. The only thing he needed was patent leather shoes. She handed him the suit and motioned him toward the bedroom to try it on. He was absolutely amazed. It fit perfectly in every dimension and it was unbelievably comfortable. He felt as though he were wearing pajamas. He came out of the bedroom beaming, “This is fabulous!”
“Did I not tell you there is no comparison – absolutely none – between a rented tux and one made for you. There is nothing better a man can do for himself than to spend the money on a perfectly tailored and fitted suit. You look very handsome. A nice pair of shoes and a haircut, and I think Victoria will be very pleased.”
“Victoria? What about you?”
She smiled, “Personally I prefer you in shorts and a sweatshirt, at the helm of your boat steering me around from one school of fish to another. I will say, however, that if you have to dress up, that does look just mighty fine.”
He grinned. “I have never worn anything so comfortable.”
She laughed, “My guess is you have never looked so fabulous.”
He asked, “What are you wearing?”
She shook her head. “Oh no you don't. My outfit will be a surprise. You'll see it for the first time the night of the party. No peeks in advance. By the way, we shall go in style. My driver will pick you up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. They usually serve really nice wine and liquor at those affairs, the better to break down the inhibitions of the would-be donors. Since you're already in for a few hundred dollars, you might as well enjoy the evening without worrying about getting a ticket on the way home.”
He chuckled, “I never thought of that, but you're right. Thanks. That will be swell.”
The evening of the party arrived. Ray had gotten a haircut and had purchased exactly the shoes Marcella suggested, even though he thought they were a bit effeminate. This was a whole new experience for him, but it was the world Marcella had inhabited for a number of years. He assumed she knew what she was doing, and he trusted himself to her care. He dressed early and then paced the house until Marcella's car pulled into the driveway. He slid into the back seat beside Marcella, and caught his breath. She was wearing a champagne satin dress that was completely unadorned. What made the dress so stunning was the cut. It clung to her body's curves without revealing too much but showing her figure off to its best. Her only jewelry were diamond stud earrings. Her makeup was very subtle. Her hair was done in a very elegant classic French twist. By the standards of Sarasota's society ladies, she was seriously under-dressed. At one glance, he knew she was going to be the star of the evening.
She smiled at him and winked, “For a boater-reporter you clean up mighty fine, Mr. Bailey.”
He looked at her, then made a very exaggerated tour from top to bottom and back. He grinned, “You look like the goddess Aphrodite, as opposed to your usual Diana the Huntress.”
She laughed until she had to wipe her eyes. “Didn't anybody ever tell you never to make a lady cry before a party. It smears the paint.”
Just before they got out of the car, she took his hand and whispered rather frantically, “Don't leave me alone tonight, please.”
Baiting & Fishing Page 17
