Girl in the Spotlight

by Virginia McCullough

  “Sounds like a great idea,” he said in an energized, upbeat voice. “Make the reservation. I think I know exactly where it is.”

  “Great. I’ll send them a text as soon as we get off the phone,” Lark said. “Meanwhile, I suppose I should get some rest.”

  “Yes, see you in a few days, then. Shall I pick you up?”

  “No need, Miles. It’s practically walking distance for me. I’ll meet you there. So, ’bye for now.”

  Lark felt unreasonably happy. Their dinner, she wouldn’t call it a date, was only four days away. She hadn’t made a really fun plan for Christmas Eve in a long time. Virtually all her friends had family plans that packed the two days. Lark hunched her shoulders and clasped her hands in front of her chest. In a million years, she’d never have imagined having plans with Miles.

  As she finished getting ready for bed and turned off both her phone and the light, she realized that when he’d suggested getting together for Christmas Eve, Perrie Lynn hadn’t immediately come to mind. She looked forward to seeing Miles just for himself.

  * * *

  LARK HAD BEEN avoiding Dawn ever since the night of their double date. First, she’d begged off their regular coffee meeting, and then had answered a couple of texts with rapid-fire responses promising “more later.” But when she saw Dawn’s name appear on her phone, she knew she couldn’t dodge her friend any longer.

  “Hey...how are you? Sorry it’s—”

  “Save it, Lark. You’re going to tell me it’s been crazy and you’re scheduled to the minute.”

  “Well, it’s true,” she said defensively.

  “Do you have a minute now?” Dawn asked, exasperation coming through.

  Lark checked her watch. Needlessly. She had no phone interviews that afternoon. “Sure.”

  “Good. Then tell me what’s going on?”

  “Uh, what do you mean?”

  “Oh, please... I just talked to Chip, and he’d spoken with Bruce. What’s this about a family issue that’s suddenly come up? The reason you gave for not going out with him again.”

  “I can explain.” She might have known something as simple as cutting things off with Bruce—before they even started—would get back to Dawn.

  “But I thought you liked Bruce. What gives?”

  “I did... I do. But something really has come up and I can’t get involved with anyone just now.”

  Silence on the other end.

  She drummed her fingers on the desk, then crossed and uncrossed her ankles. This was no way to treat Dawn, who’d been a good friend to her. “Uh, it’s something kind of private.” Maybe that would buy her some time.

  “I don’t mean to pry, Lark, but since when do we keep secrets? Are you sick? Is there some kind of diagnosis that you’re not telling me about?”

  “Uh...” The nerves in her gut tingled. Was it fear? Apprehension? She didn’t know, but words wouldn’t form.

  “Well, okay. I get the message.”

  “No, no. Wait, Dawn. I do need to tell you about this. But not on the phone. Can you meet me this afternoon?”

  “When and where?”

  “Now. At the Bean Grinder.” She tried to keep a casual tone in her voice. “That will give us time to talk before we have to pick up the boys after practice.”

  “Okay. Like I said, I didn’t want to pry, but you’ve been putting me off for days.”

  “You’re right. I am keeping secrets. One secret. A big one. But it’s not a bad diagnosis or anything like that. I’ll tell you what’s going on. But only you.”

  They agreed to meet in thirty minutes, which left little time for second-guessing herself. Just as well, because the instant Lark ended the call, she wanted to back out. She’d been silent so long it was difficult to come up with the right words to tell the story.

  She ran a brush through her hair and gave her lips a quick once-over with fresh gloss. Looking in the mirror, she noted her pink cheeks. Probably flushed from stress, she mused. She’d been on high alert for a few days now.

  When Lark arrived at the Bean Grinder, Dawn had already found a table for two and was absorbed in jotting notes in her thick day planner. Lark smiled at the reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Their color, bright teal, was a perfect contrast to her strawberry blond hair.

  Lark navigated her way around tables and chairs to join her, but didn’t sit. After a quick glance around the crowded café, she knew they couldn’t stay there.

  “Let’s take a walk first. Then we can come back and get coffee,” Lark said, still standing next to the table. She nodded at the crowded room, silently communicating the lack of privacy.

  At first, Dawn looked mildly miffed, but her expression instantly changed to concern. She packed her shoulder-bag-style attaché case and put on her coat.

  “You were madly writing notes for something,” Lark said, leading the way out the door and onto the sidewalk. “Is it urgent?”

  “New client. The Party Perfect women want to start a major PR program after the first of the year. They’re booked for the holidays, but they have holes in the schedule after Valentine’s Day.” Dawn leaned forward and whispered, “They offered a six-month retainer. With any luck they’ll get so much coverage, they’ll sign up for the rest of the year.”

  “Without question,” Lark said, grinning. “You’ll dazzle them with creative ideas, as usual.” She pointed down the side street away from the waterfront park, where the Bean Grinder occupied an old but refurbished octagonal wooden building “Let’s head that way, toward the winery. At least it will get us out of the wind.”

  “If you say so,” Dawn said, pulling up the collar of her coat. “It’s such a perfect day for a stroll through town.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lark said, meaning it, “but I should have thought about the café being crowded. It’s critical that no one overhear what I have to tell you.”

  Dawn shook her head. “This must be some secret.”

  Lark closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “It is. Trust me. And I wasn’t planning to talk about it. Yet.”

  Once they reached the Silver Moon Winery, Lark led them across the street to a small playground. On such a cold afternoon, no kids or parents were around. “We probably can’t get much more isolated than this,” she said.

  Dawn frowned at the benches. “If the weather were different, I’d say we should sit, but not today.”

  Lark put her hand on Dawn’s arm. “I don’t know what I’m waiting for. And it’s nothing you should worry about.”

  “That’s reassuring,” Dawn said, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

  “It’s about a baby, a girl. A girl who just had her eighteenth birthday.” Tears pooled in her eyes but she blinked them back. “My baby.”

  Dawn slowly drew her into a hug. “You had a baby before Evan? That’s what you’re telling me?”

  Lark nodded. “Before I met Lyle.” She quickly filled in the background, including a quick sketch of Miles. “He’s the one who alerted me about the possibility this girl is ours.”

  “And you know for certain she’s the baby?” Dawn asked, lowering her arms and peering into Lark’s face.

  Lark smiled. It took less than thirty seconds to explain how she came to talk with Maxine on the phone. “Little coincidences piled up and here we are.”

  “You referred to her as ‘this girl.’ Are you afraid to tell me her name?”

  She nodded. “I suppose I am. But since I’ve revealed this much, I’ll tell you. As long as you promise—”

  Dawn groaned. “Of course, I promise.”

  “Do you follow figure skating?”

  With her forehead wrinkled in a frown, Dawn stared off in the distance as if considering her answer. “Not really, but I saw something about a young American skater
who’s rising really fast. It was on one of the news sites.” Her eyes opened wide. “Is she...?”

  Lark drew in a breath. “Yes. Perrie Lynn Olson. She’s the rising star they’re talking about. And her celebrity is precisely why Miles and I can’t talk about her. We can’t meet her now, either.”

  This time, when Dawn hugged her she added an extra squeeze. “Wow, wow, wow. That’s all I can say.”

  Lark crossed her hands and pressed them against her chest. “But I’m so impatient. Miles keeps reminding me that we have no say about anything that happens next. The Olsons are in control.”

  Dawn tilted her head from side to side, considering the situation. “I guess that’s true enough, and the way it should be, frankly. But I can understand why you’re jumping out of your skin.”

  Lark laughed. “Thanks for understanding. Miles is being so calm, at least compared to me. But I feel better now that I’ve revealed my secret. Helps lessen the burden. You can understand why I can’t think about Bruce and dating and all that. Even though I won’t have a chance to meet Perrie Lynn for a long time—several months, if all goes well for her. She’s a girl—a young woman—with a goal. With a steel spine, too, from the looks of it.”

  Lark grabbed Dawn’s sleeve and turned around. “Back to the Bean Grinder. I’m ready for our latte, my friend. My treat. You’ve been so patient with my evasiveness.”

  “Good, I’m freezing out here,” Dawn said, but with a happy lilt in her voice. “And by the way, you never mentioned Miles before. Was he important?”

  Lark shrugged. “No, that’s the thing. He was a good guy. Like me, he had some ambitions and was pretty serious about school. But he was fun, the type who liked to go out to see the bands that came to town. He was a great dancer, and so many other guys I dated weren’t. But we both understood it was just fun and games. Casual college stuff.” Lark stopped walking and stared into space. “That all went wrong, obviously.”

  “But what about now? Do you trust him? Do you like him?”

  Lark smiled at the question. “It never occurred to me not to trust him.” She explained what steps she’d taken with the adoption agency, all on her own. “My challenge was getting Miles to trust me. It was complicated. I figured he had a wife and a family.”

  “So he’s married?” Dawn asked.

  “He was, but it didn’t last long—his little girl was only two when they separated. He spends a lot of time with her, though, which is how they happened to be watching the figure-skating competition on Sunday afternoon.” She paused and took a few steps in silence. “To think, eighteen years ago, Miles and I were, for a brief hour or so, in the same building as the Olsons. And now, next year, I’ll meet them.”

  “Have you thought much about Miles over the years?”

  Good question, and with bigger implications than the simple words would imply. Did she think of him, or regret not working something out with him in order to keep their baby? “No, to tell you the truth I’ve barely thought about him all this time. I was focused entirely on the baby, Perrie Lynn.” And asking herself why she hadn’t kept her, why she hadn’t made a plan.

  “Perrie Lynn,” Dawn repeated slowly. “Such a lovely name.” She paused. “Did the Olsons choose it?”

  Lark nodded. “I always wondered what they’d decided to call her. Perrie Lynn could be a family name, I suppose. The Olsons took her home when she was only two days old. When the hospital released me, they released her.” She smiled wistfully. “Miles and I agree that somehow, it’s a perfect name for a skater.”

  “Hey, didn’t you once tell me you skated as a kid?”

  Lark chuckled and shook her head. “I did, briefly, and I loved it. But it wasn’t figure skating. My mom used to drive me and a bunch of my friends to the outdoor rink. Sometimes we’d skate on the river for the eight or ten weeks a year when it was frozen solid.” A wave of nostalgia hit hard. She hadn’t thought about those days for years. “I used to win a few impromptu races. I’d hoped Evan would show some interest, maybe in speed skating or even hockey. But no, basketball is it—and chess. And now skiing.”

  When they got to the Bean Grinder, Lark put her hand on Dawn’s arm before going inside. “When you asked about Miles, I didn’t know exactly what to say. I can’t really describe him, other than to say he’s a really decent man.” She stared down the street. “Back in college, we weren’t in love or anything like that. But now that we’re adults with kids and professional lives, he’s made me wonder why I settled for Lyle.”

  Dawn let out a soft groan. “That’s rough. And complicated.”

  “And kind of useless to dwell on.” Lark playfully tugged on Dawn’s sleeve. “So, now you’ll tell me all about Party Perfect and your plans for them. Okay? You’ll shush me up if I say one more word about me and my life.”

  “Hey, there’s some work for you, too, my friend,” Dawn said, moving toward the door. “These women are serious about expanding and hiring more staff. So, they want a party-planning handbook and some tip sheets for their clients. I told them I had a writer in mind.”

  “You’re such a good friend,” Lark said. “Even more reason the lattes are on me today.”

  When they’d placed their order and claimed a table, Dawn leaned forward in her seat. “One last question,” she whispered. “When will you tell your parents and brother? What about Evan?”

  Lark instinctively put her hand across her middle, as if trying to settle the powerful ripples of anxiety there. “I haven’t decided how to approach any of my family, including Evan. Much less when. But for sure it won’t be until I’m closer to actually meeting Perrie Lynn.”

  Dawn showed her skepticism with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think you should prepare everybody for this? Especially Evan.”

  “I will, but it has to be on my own timetable. And to tell you the truth, I don’t care much about my parents’ reaction. Dealing with Evan is much more important. Back when Miles and I were hanging out, my parents were fighting over everything, including custody of my brother. That’s why I never seriously considered telling them I was pregnant, and I never mentioned Miles, either.” She shrugged. “Besides, it’s almost Christmas. I wouldn’t drop something like this on any of them. Besides, it’s risky to tell too many people—one slip and it could end up a media story.”

  “I get it,” Dawn said with a supportive nod. “Who to tell, and when, is your call.”

  Lark stared out into the crowded café. “It’s kind of odd how much I’m looking forward to seeing Miles on Christmas Eve.”

  “What?”

  Lark chuckled. “I guess that sounded like an afterthought. He called the other night and suggested it. We’re going to the Half Moon for their special buffet.”

  Dawn leaned across the table and patted Lark’s hand. “Well, well, well.”

  Lark put up her palm. “Stop. It’s dinner. I’m sure we’ll spend all our time talking about...” She glanced around the room. “You know.”

  Dawn rolled her eyes. “For once in your single life, keep your heart open.”

  Her impulse was to laugh dismissively, but her friend’s earnest expression stopped her. Instead, Lark squared her shoulders and said, “Back to the party planners.”

  For the next half hour she gratefully detoured away from Perrie Lynn and Miles. By the time she and Dawn hurried to their cars to pick up their sons, the late-afternoon light was fading fast.

  Lark maneuvered her car down the streets to the middle school and mentally prepared herself to deal with her son, who was becoming more temperamental as he neared his official teenage years. With arms and legs out of proportion to the rest of him, Evan was, Lark hoped, nearing the end of his awkward stage. Ah, probably wishful thinking.

  Evan’s turned-down mouth and frown warned her about his mood. He yanked open the car door in back and tossed his backpack inside
. Then he settled into the passenger seat and grabbed the seat belt as easily as anybody in a puffy down jacket and heavy gloves could. He was hatless. She decided against mentioning it.

  “What’s up?” Lark asked, disheartened by his glum expression.

  “Nothing. I’m just hungry.” Evan jerked his head back and to the side, his futile attempt to get the hair out of his eyes.

  “Grab a package of peanut-butter crackers out of the glove box.” Lark clamped her lips together to avoid adding a comment about Evan’s bangs. If Lyle hadn’t insisted on being in charge of their son’s haircuts, she’d have detoured to the quick-cut shop and solved the problem in ten minutes. Not my concern. She’d sworn off getting in the middle of the father-and-son battles over hair length. One day soon, none of it would matter and Evan would make his own decisions about the full head of light brown hair he’d inherited from her.

  “What’s for dinner?”

  The perennial question.

  Lark abruptly flipped the turn signal and maneuvered into the left lane. “Pizza. At Lou’s.”

  “Really? How come?”

  “No reason. I’m in the mood for a treat.” She glanced at her son’s face, a little more pleasant now. “You got a problem with that?”

  At last, Evan laughed at her tough-guy tone. It was a real laugh, too, the kind that made her heart hum a little melody.

  “No, as long as it has extra cheese and extra sausage, at least on my half.”

  “You’re pushing it, I see.”

  Evan snickered. “I guess.”

  Lark pulled into the parking lot of Lou’s, her favorite place for pizza since she was Evan’s age. Walking inside, she studied his easy, loose-limbed gait. A couple of years ago, they’d stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Now he towered over her, and he wasn’t yet thirteen.

  A sense of excitement began to build. By the time they finished this ordinary event, ordering their large pizza with extra everything, Lark was nearly euphoric, ready to explode with a kind of joy she’d never experienced before. For the first time in eighteen years, she knew for certain that both her children were taken care of, safe and deeply loved.