“Autumn? Are you okay?”
Two seconds passed before Tawnia remembered that tonight she was Autumn. “I’m fine. Thanks. I was just thinking.”
“I do that, too. It’s normal when you’ve lost someone. The trick is to let it pass and go on.”
She could do that. She hadn’t even lost someone, not really. Neither Bret nor Christian had been hers. And she had never known her birth mother.
“Do you have a picture of your daughter?” she asked.
He reached in a pocket of his tux for his wallet, passing it to her. There was a portrait of a younger Orion with a pretty blonde woman and a teenager at that awkward stage everyone seemed to pass through. The next photo showed that same girl as an older, attractive teen, now in full bloom.
“Arleen was eighteen in that one. It’s the last picture I have of her.”
The girl had blonde hair like her mother, though a bit darker, but her eyes were Orion’s brown. Her heart-shaped face held a fragileness that didn’t belong to either of her parents. Had the fragility been what had led her to jump from the bridge?
Next to the photo was a drawing of the girl, the strokes lovingly outlining each curve. Tawnia felt she had seen the drawing before. But where? She looked again at the photograph. No, she’d never seen the girl before, so why did the drawing look familiar?
Then she had it. Bret’s drawing, the one of the girl, Sheree. The girls depicted were different, but the drawings themselves were familiar. “Who drew this?” she asked.
Orion leaned forward. “Oh, that. It was done by one of Arleen’s friends. I don’t know which one. It was about a year after my wife’s death, and I still wasn’t coping very well. But Arleen loved it. She had it in a frame by her bed. I still have it. I made this copy to carry with me. I love how happy she looks in it.”
More than happy, like a woman in love. But Tawnia didn’t say that aloud. It wouldn’t be a good thing, because the boyfriend’s desertion was apparently the last push she’d needed to end her life. Poor thing, Tawnia thought.
Orion had survived, though. Orion, who was looking at her with an emotion in his eyes that she could not classify. Tawnia swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream with joy or run for the hills.
“How about a little dessert? If you’re finished.” Orion arose and went to the trolley. “We have chocolate mousse.”
“Mmmm,” Tawnia said, all the while thinking that Autumn might ask if the cream had come from a grass-fed cow, and, if the recipe contained eggs, if the chickens were free-range or fed slop in crowded pens. She took a bite without mentioning any of it. “Wow. This is excellent.” The richest kind of chocolate with a hint of rum flavoring.
The night didn’t end with the mousse. “Shall we dance?” Orion took her hand and lifted her from her chair.
Tawnia hadn’t been dancing since that time with Bret here in Portland. The lights had been low and the music slow, and she’d thought all her dreams were coming true.
Orion drew her close and they did the sort of tight waltz that most people reverted to when dancing for the first time alone. Her arms rested on his shoulders. Because of the angle of her brace, they had to be quite close. She could smell his cologne mixed with the heat of his breath.
He kissed her after the second song, a slow kiss that tested the waters. She felt an answering passion in her response—and a tremor of fear as well. If this was the beginning of a relationship, she couldn’t let him keep believing she was Autumn.
She stepped away, trying not to see the disappointment in his eyes. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“My feet. These heels are killing me.” It was true, too. At the moment she envied Autumn her bare feet.
He led her to the chair and crouched in front of her. “Let’s take them off.” His hands were strong and gentle, sending warm shivers up her back. “There. Is that better?” He was massaging her foot now, and it did feel delicious. There seemed to be nothing more natural in the world than being on a secluded rooftop with this strong, handsome man rubbing her foot.
Maybe she liked Autumn’s life.
“Look, Orion. There’s something I want to tell you.”
“What?” He glanced over his shoulder where the helicopter had reappeared, as though out of nowhere, the engine
and the whirring sound of its blades growing louder as it approached.
“It’s just, well, you don’t really know me.” She raised her voice. “I mean, we’ve just met, and there’s a lot you don’t know.” Like the huge fact that I’m not Autumn.
He released her foot and took her hands, pulling her face close to his. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, either, but does it really matter? I know what I feel here and now.”
That wasn’t good enough for her. She didn’t want here and now, she wanted forever. “I’m not looking for a fling.” He didn’t hear. The helicopter was landing behind her, and he stood, pulling her to her feet.
They rode back to the limousine in awed silence. The lights were breathtaking, and Tawnia felt as though the whole city had dressed up just for her. Somewhere down below, Bret and Autumn were in a restaurant together. Were they enjoying themselves as much as she had? Because whether or not Orion was her future, this had been the most magical, romantic night of her life.
At the limousine, Orion paused before opening the door. He took her in his arms. “I’m not looking for a fling, either,” he whispered.
Then he kissed her again. Long and slow and deep.
Chapter 18
Autumn was a mess. The minute Tawnia walked out the door, the apartment seemed to squeeze in on her. Everywhere she looked were memories of Winter: the colorful afghan Summer had made for him, his favorite spot on the couch, the round stain on the antique coffee table from the herbal tea he’d taken each evening before bed, the pictures of them together on the end tables.
She sat on the couch and drew her bare feet under her. Feeling cold, she pulled the afghan up to her neck. The yarn was fuzzy from years of washing, but the stitches were close enough to keep her warm on even a cold night.
At what point would they give up looking for Winter? She’d called the county several times, but they had only assured her they would find him. They hadn’t yet given his identity to the media, but it was only a matter of time until word got out. People talked, and even the best intentions went awry. Then she would have hordes of strangers asking her what it was like to have her father missing.
How long had she been staring at the wall, reliving the moment the car had plunged into the water? If only she’d understood that it would be the last time she’d see him. If only she’d held his hand.
Her body was shaking, her breath coming fast. She pulled the afghan over her head and tried to breathe slowly. Her right arm began to ache as it did sometimes in the night, a dull, persistent ache that drove her insane. During the day she barely noticed.
The medication. Tossing off the blanket, she went to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboards. Where had she left it? That’s right. In Winter’s room. The nightstand near the bed. She ran to the room, fumbled with the package. Only one pill left. She gulped it down without water, calculating the moments before it would take effect. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Her limbs felt leaden.
“Autumn? Autumn?” a voice penetrated her thoughts, but she didn’t move from the spot. She could still smell Winter here. How long until his smell faded?
“Autumn!” Bret appeared in the doorway to Winter’s room. “I’ve been ringing and ringing. I finally just came in. Did you know your door’s unlocked?”
What a silly question. Who cared about locking doors? Summer had never bothered when she was alive. Maybe Autumn would never lock her door again. What did she care if someone stole her antiques? The most important thing was already missing.
“Autumn, what’s wrong?”
She looked in his direction, though her tears blurred his face. “I miss him,” she whispered. “I miss
him so much. And I keep thinking of him under the water. I keep thinking of him somewhere else missing me. Or maybe he’s with Summer and doesn’t care that I’m not there at all.” Grief felt heavy over her entire body. She couldn’t move. Maybe she would sit here forever in this exact spot.
“They’ll find him, and of course he’s missing you—wherever he is.” He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. The silence grew loud enough to penetrate her grief.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “Sorry that you have to see me like this.”
“Actually, you were like this the first time I met you.” His words were matter-of-fact, not meant to wound.
“You gave me Tawnia.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke the words. “I know this is really stupid and strange, but when I’m with her I don’t feel so awful. It’s like we’re a part of each other. Just like Winter and I are. When she left tonight, I suddenly felt . . . alone.” Alone didn’t begin to touch what she felt, but it was the best word she could find.
“That’s not stupid; it’s called distraction. You don’t feel alone at work, do you? When you’re busy or talking, there’s no time to think of the grief.”
He was wrong. Several times at work, even when she’d been helping a customer, the blinding, horrible loss had hit her so hard it was all she could do to continue whatever she was doing. Sometimes customers had bought things and left without her even remembering what they had bought or how much they had paid.
“He’s always been the most important part of my life.”
“I know what you mean. I think my brother was that for me. I admired him more than I ever told him, even though he was totally irresponsible about so many things. But he was so happy, and he enjoyed life to the fullest. I wanted to be just like him.”
“He was an artist?”
“When he had time. He worked in advertising, like Tawnia. That’s how they met.”
“She met your brother first?”
“She was on a date with him when he died.” Now it was Bret’s turn to look away. “It wasn’t her fault. He climbed a tree to take a picture. He was reckless.”
“And you wanted to be just like him?”
He looked at his fingers in his lap. “Everyone loved my brother.”
“Even Tawnia?”
“I don’t know.”
Silence fell, but the medication was taking effect. The pain in her arm was subsiding, and suddenly Autumn thought how funny the poster of John Lennon looked on the wall. She grinned. “A grown man with a John Lennon poster. Winter loved John Lennon.”
“Christian had one of Julia Roberts,” Bret said.
That made Autumn laugh. She flopped herself back on the bed, giggling, her legs still dangling over the side. “I bet that went over well with his girlfriends.”
“They usually weren’t around long enough to give an opinion.”
“Usually?”
“I think Tawnia might have been the exception—if he’d lived.”
“Might?” She sat up. “I was under the impression you two had dated.”
“For a while. It got too hard.”
“Why?”
“I guess I kept wondering how Christian would feel about me dating his girl.”
“His girl? But he was . . .” Dead. Autumn stopped herself from saying the last word just in time. Even in her present disoriented state, she knew that would hurt him. But the thought of his not dating Tawnia because his brother had liked her made the giggles bubble up inside her. It was so ridiculous.
One giggle escaped. “I’m sorry,” she gulped. “That wasn’t for you. I don’t know what’s happening. It’s that stupid medication.”
Bret stood. “Come on. Let’s get you out on the couch.”
“Aren’t we going to dinner?”
He paused, standing so close she started thinking he might kiss her. Or was it in case she fell? “I think maybe we should stay in.” He rubbed a thumb over her cheek, wiping off the drying tears. “I could order pizza, and we could get a movie. How does that sound?”
“I love pizza. I know a place that does organic.”
He grinned. “I assume that means it costs twice as much as a regular pizza.”
“It’s cheaper than eating out.”
“Good point. So what video do you want to see?”
A video meant his going to the rental store, and because she couldn’t face going there, that meant waiting in the apartment alone. She didn’t want to be alone. “I have cable,” she said. “There should be something on.”
He took her arm as they walked to the living room. She tripped on the carpet and laughed hard as Bret caught her. He laughed with her.
• • •
Once again Autumn had gone from crying to silly to morose as the medication took its course. It was getting late, but Bret was loath to leave her alone. They sat together on the couch, staring at an old black-and-white film. Something about a couple who bought an old house and sank into debt because of all the problems related to it. He disliked films like this because how could anyone be so stupid? Everyone with sense knew it was easier to be happy without huge debt than with it.
Autumn laid her head on his shoulder, a tear sliding down her cheek. “See?” she said. “It doesn’t matter about how much the house cost or the trouble they’re in. They have each other and the children. They’ll make it work.”
He felt a rush of emotion for her then because she was right. Family was what mattered. He’d learned that a little too late, at least where Christian was concerned. He could never make up the time he should have spent with his brother, but he could learn for the future.
Autumn wiped her face with the ridiculously bright afghan that she’d draped over them, though he wasn’t cold, and then snuggled closer to him. His arm went comfortingly around her narrow shoulders. Her face lifted to his. They’d been close all evening, and it would be natural to share a kiss, and he’d be crazy not to take the opportunity because he did like her, but he kept thinking of how she had been crying about her father when he’d arrived. Wouldn’t he be taking advantage of her?
“I should go,” he said. “It’s late.”
Her mismatched eyes studied him. “Don’t you want to kiss me?” Her tone was curious.
“Actually, I do. More than anything.” His voice was gruff. “But you’re . . . grieving.”
“So? It’ll take my mind off things.”
She said that now, but what if in the morning she changed her mind? What if she hated him for taking advantage of her vulnerability?
What if Tawnia came home?
“Is Tawnia coming back here?”
Autumn’s eyes flew to the large clock on a corner table. “She’s supposed to.” She drew away from him slowly, her face thoughtful. “I hope everything’s going well with her date. She was pretty nervous when they left. I think she really likes him. You should have seen how wonderful she looked.”
Bret swallowed hard. He could imagine. Autumn herself was looking incredibly attractive, her brown hair tousled and her eyes heavy-lidded with sleep. She was rising now, and he wished he could turn back the clock to the moment when she’d asked to be kissed. Why did he have to be so chivalrous? Christian wouldn’t have hesitated.
“I should go,” he repeated. “But you shouldn’t be alone.”
She smiled at him. “You could always sleep on my couch.”
That was when they heard noise outside the door. Autumn froze, but then her sleepiness vanished. “Hurry,” she hissed. “They’re here. We can’t let him see us. We’ve got to hide!” She ran toward Winter’s room, pulling him along. They hid behind the door, which Autumn left open a crack.
“You don’t lock your door?” came a male voice.
“Must have forgotten.” There was a healthy dose of nervousness in Tawnia’s voice. “Well, I had a wonderful time tonight, Orion. Thanks for everything. It was beautiful.”
“Like you.”
There was a long moment of silence, an
d Bret’s fists tightened at his side. What was going on? He wished he could see into the living room, but the opening Autumn had left was too small and at the wrong angle.
They started talking again, but quietly, so this time Bret couldn’t hear the words. “Should I go out there?” he mouthed to Autumn, hoping she could see him well enough in the darkened room. Maybe Tawnia was having trouble getting rid of the guy.
Maybe she didn’t want to get rid of him.
Autumn shook her head violently. “He can’t see you,” she mouthed back.
Bret guessed it wouldn’t be too good for Tawnia’s chances with the fireman if there was a man waiting for her in her apartment.
More silence. Interminable silence. And then, finally, the door closing.
“Autumn, are you here?”
Autumn burst from the room and practically threw herself at Tawnia. Bret held back, emerging more slowly.
“Well?” Autumn demanded. “How’d it go? Tell me everything. Everything.”
“Oh, it was exactly like a movie,” Tawnia gushed. “First we went in a limo, and then a helicopter—such beautiful scenery! We had dinner on a rooftop. I have no idea where, but it was the most incredibly romantic date I’ve ever been on. I mean, honestly, it was so impractical. Silly, really. A waste of money this early in a relationship, almost like he was trying to make something up to me.”
“You nut—he was trying to impress you.”
Tawnia laughed, “Well, I was impressed and surprised.”
Autumn was pulling Tawnia toward the couch. “So did he kiss you? How’d it feel? Tell me!”
“Autumn, it was amazing. I thought—” Tawnia must have sensed Bret’s motion because she fell silent, her eyes flying to his in surprise. She’s not wearing her contact, he thought. That meant . . . what? He didn’t know.
“Bret,” Tawnia said weakly. “You’re here.” She looked past him to Winter’s darkened room.
“We stayed in,” Autumn told her. “My arm was hurting so I took the pain medication, and I got sort of silly.”
“She giggled an awful lot,” Bret confirmed.
Tawnia grinned. “You did that the first night I met you.”
Eyes of a Stanger Page 22
