by Julia London
But it didn’t really matter, because the sad truth was, Evan just did not float her boat. Robin did not feel the rush of blood when he walked into a room like she did with Jake, or think about him like she did Jake. Like today, with just a memory of his kiss to go on, she had thought constantly of Jake, wondered what he was doing, remembered the feel of his lips on hers, the rough texture of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his smile. The harsh words she had spoken, which made her wince. When she looked at Evan, she wondered if he still sorted the underwear in his drawer by color, or if he had ever mowed a lawn in his life.
“So what do you think?” Evan asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Think?”
He frowned lightly. “About Peerless? The thing I’ve been going on and on about for the last fifteen minutes? What’s the matter, Robin? Why are you so distracted?” he asked, leaning across the table to grasp her hand.
Robin looked down at his hand, his perfectly manicured hand, and thought of Jake’s scarred one. “Evan . . .”
Slowly, he withdrew his hand. “Oh,” he said with a heavy sigh, reading her thoughts. “That again. Look, Robbie, I told you, I’m through. You’ve made your wishes perfectly clear. You don’t want a relationship in spite of your curious lack of judgment in sleeping with me—”
“Hey—”
“Uh-uh, no ‘heys’ this time,” he said. “It was a damn stupid thing to do. But okay, what’s done is done. I’m done. I’m not trying to get in your pants, I’m not trying to do anything but make you an executive in this company. A good executive. So you can quit reading something into everything I say or do. Let’s at least be adults about this for the sake of the company. Just . . . just get over yourself, will you?” he said and picked up the martini he had ordered and took a deep drink.
“Okay,” she said weakly, feeling his irritation. “I won’t mention it again.”
“Good,” he said gruffly. “Now, about Peerless. I want to hear what you think of their potential,” he said and stabbed his elbows onto the table, looking at her with gray eves so cold that she shivered in her linen jacket.
In spite of the wind and chill of the night’s hard freeze, the day dawned sunny and pleasant in Minot. Lou Harvey was at the motel at 8 A.M. sharp. He shook Evan’s hand (SLEEP ALL RIGHT? he boomed with a wink and a nudge), smiled at Robin’s breasts, and ushered them out into the Oldsmobile Cutlass. They sped across town to Bubble Wrap City, where they spent the morning until it was time to go to the Lion’s Club.
They careened to a halt in front of the municipal center and entered an open room where round tables had been set for lunch. Robin thought she had walked into a sea of Q-tips. A string of lady blue hairs and geezers—some actually too young to be geezers, but what the hell—advanced to introduce themselves. Lou Harvey was beside himself, practically bursting at his polyester seams with pride over his sophisticated guests.
It had all the markings of being the longest hour and a half in her life, but a funny thing happened at that Lion’s Club luncheon, something that both astounded Robin and touched her. It wasn’t the Pledge of Allegiance, with Evan saying it louder than any of the Q-tips. Or the invocation. It wasn’t even the singing of the Lion fight song that stirred her, or the surprisingly pleasant conversation with Barbara, who declared Robin’s very expensive Hermès purse inadequate in the compartment department (which it was) and told her about her softball team (the Peerless Pretties). It wasn’t the bland salad or blander chicken, or the amazingly insightful and surprisingly amusing luncheon speech by the local medical examiner.
It was, Robin decided over yellow cake with red, white, and blue icing, the sense of camaraderie, the feeling of belonging. These people gave awards to one another for the most mundane things and little personal accomplishments in their unimportant lives. They asked each other about their loved ones, seemed interested in the details of gout, legal troubles, or softball scores. It was the fierce way in which they pledged allegiance to the flag—so fiercely, one could believe that they would pick up arms in a moment and form a battalion if challenged. It was that they seemed to really care about one another. As Robin watched the members around her trading jokes only they found funny, she felt the strange empty feeling come over her again. She actually envied these people, she realized. She envied their belonging. She wanted to belong. To someone. Something. Anything.
On the flight back to Houston, Evan settled back in his seat and chuckled to himself. “Could you believe that crowd?” he asked with a roll of his eyes. “The Pledge of Allegiance? Shit, I haven’t said that since I was ten!”
Neither had she. Maybe that was what was wrong with people like her and Evan. They had no allegiance.
Evan drifted off to sleep; Robin stared out the window, mulling over the surprising fact that she actually liked Barbara. She even liked ol’ Lou Harvey for reasons that were not completely clear to her, but something about him made her suddenly sentimental. She picked up the phone, dialed her mother’s cell. “Mom? It’s Robin,” she said when her mother answered. “How’s it going?”
Mom sighed. “Hi, honey. Your father isn’t feeling too well. We’re going back to New York tomorrow to see his doctor.”
The news unleashed a dull panic in Robin. “Is he there? Can I talk to him?”
“Sure. He’s right here.”
“Robbie? What are you doing?” Dad asked after a moment.
“How are you, Dad?” she asked, her eyes misting.
“Oh . . . I don’t know. Kind of tired, I guess. Where are you, Minot?”
“We’re on our way back to Houston now,” she said, remembering that she had specifically not told him she was going to Minot, and gave Evan a frown that would have made him wince, had he been awake.
“How did it go?”
“Pretty well. I’m not sure Peerless is who we want, but they seem to have a good solid operation.”
“What did Evan say?”
Robin closed her eyes, tried to swallow the disappointment.
“Pretty much the same thing. I’d let you talk to him, but he’s asleep.”
“Yeah, let him sleep. I’ll see him in New York this week anyway.”
“So how do you feel, Dad?”
“Don’t worry about me, Robbie,” he said gruffly.
But she wanted to worry about him. She wanted to be part of his crisis. “Dad, I’ve been thinking about you, and I—”
“I hope you’ve been thinking about what I said. I hope you have slowed down a little and taken stock of your life.”
“I was going to say that I have been thinking about how you are doing, and I thought maybe I could come to California, or New York, if you are going to be there. You know, spend a little time with you.”
There was a noticeable hesitation; she heard Dad sigh. “No, that’s not a good idea. I may have to have more radiation, and I don’t want you around for that. I’d rather you stay in Houston and find your footing. You need to focus on your issues, not mine.”
His rejection stung and as tears welled, she resented him deeply for it. “Sure. My issues. Gotta whip them into shape.”
“What? Okay, well . . . you and Evan getting along?”
She was too stung to even notice the question, really. “Fine. Just fine.”
“Good. Tell him to call me about Minot when you get to Houston, will you?”
Right. He needed a real report. Not one from someone with issues. “You bet. Hope you get to feeling better. I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yep.”
She had no idea what else to say. “Well then, bye.”
“Bye-bye, baby,” he said, and hung up the phone.
Robin put the airphone back in its cradle and stared blindly at the pale blue sky through the little portal, feeling more lost than ever. Her relationship with her father had never been exactly rosy, but this was just hurtful. Since the astounding news of his cancer and the loss of her job, nothing seemed right anymore, nothing felt right anymore. It
was as if she had nothing to lose, nothing to find, that her life was just a series of moments wasting away. In fact, the only thing that was clear to her was that she wanted to see Jake’s smile and feel its warmth wash over her. Now, please.
In California, Aaron put down the cell phone and grinned at Bonnie. “I think we’re seeing some progress, Bon-bon,” he said cheerfully. “I think Robin is seeing Evan again.”
Bonnie frowned lightly, picked up her fork, and stabbed at the pineapple on her plate.
“What’s the matter?” Aaron asked, confused.
“I’m not sure if Evan is Robin’s choice or yours, frankly,” she said. “You may think you know what’s best for everyone, but you’re not always right.”
“Well, I am right about this,” he said with a snort. “Evan is a good man. He’s thoughtful and will take good care of her and he knows the business inside and out. I could not ask for more at this point.”
Bonnie put her fork down, stared across the table at him. “Would you stop that?”
“Stop what?”
“Charting your daughter’s life. You sound like you are more interested in the business than you are Robin. She will find her own way without you dictating the course for her—just let her choose her own path.”
Aaron waved a hand at her, looked down at his plate, and saw several strands of his hair. “Robbie could do a whole lot worse than Evan Iverson. Trust me, this is the right thing for her,” he said and pushed up from the table. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to lie down.”
He walked out of the room, but not without hearing Bonnie utter, “That is so like you, Aaron. You know better than all of us put together. It’s the same arrogant attitude you accuse your daughter of having, you stubborn bastard.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jake had not known until today that one could catch up to four episodes a day of Wheel of Fortune on cable TV. This information, courtesy Elmer Stanton, who had brought a little portable TV and set it up so he’d have something to do while Zaney was working. Shortly thereafter, Jake could hear Zaney shouting out the wrong answers (Can’t take it with y’all! Can’t TAKE IT WITH Y’ALL!). He had finally convinced them to turn the damn thing off, but it was too late—he figured they had lost at least an hour to Vanna. Since Robin wasn’t due back until tomorrow, Jake decided to work late and catch up.
A demolition crew had come in and taken out the two walls upstairs, another crew had stripped the paint and wallpaper in the house. There were two old fixtures in the upper master suite that needed to be disconnected, and the wiring was so old and corroded that he had to carefully peel them apart before pulling it all out.
That’s what he was doing when he heard the kitchen door open and shut. He thought it was Zaney, but then he heard the unmistakable click of heels and his heart did a funny little flip in spite of his disappointment. He had known what she was from the beginning, and still he had allowed himself to get caught up, to hope she was different.
Jake quickly wiped his hands on his workpants, then shoved one through his hair for want of a comb. The heels were on the stairs now, and he walked out of the master bedroom just as Robin reached the top landing. The sight of her stopped him—she looked absolutely gorgeous, even more so than when she’d left yesterday.
“So you’re still here,” she said, ruining the effect.
“I didn’t think you’d be back until tomorrow. I was trying to catch up on some work.”
She took a measured step toward him, seemed not to know what to do with her hands, and finally letting them settle on her waist.
“How was Minot?” he asked.
“Cold and windy.”
“So . . . did you acquire anything? Like a packing supply company?”
Robin laughed, shook her head. “No. But I said the Pledge of Allegiance.” She took another careful step forward. “And I ate a cheeseburger. With fries.”
“Wow. Better call Ripley’s. Pretty soon we’ll have to tether your legs and arms so you won’t float away before the parade.”
She laughed lightly, her teeth snow white in the early evening light. “So what about you? Did you renovate anything?”
“You mean, did I manage to accomplish anything between your grandpa’s jokes and Zaney’s new addiction to Wheel of Fortune?”
“Oh no,” Robin groaned.
“I’m really glad you’re back,” he blurted, surprising himself with the admission.
“Yeah, I know—I’ll call Grandma tomorrow. I bet she doesn’t know he’s over here.”
She missed his point completely, and Jake had noticed she had a real knack for doing that. They stood awkwardly. There was so much Jake wanted to say about yesterday, so much he didn’t know how to say. Deep conversations about his feelings were not exactly his forte. But then he remembered something. “Come here,” he said, unconsciously extending his hand to her. “I want to show you something.”
Robin glided forward, slipped her hand into his. He liked the feel of it—small and soft. He led her to the big bay window. “I found this earlier,” he said, pointing to a scratch in the woodwork. “Looks to be pretty old.”
She leaned forward, peered closely at the inscription:
LH and DD
Forevermore
“Oh my,” she whispered. “Forevermore.” She looked at it wistfully, then shrugged. “Kids, I guess.”
“Kids? I thought maybe it was a man who loved a woman very much.” And since when had he become so sentimental?
“Then it’s a wonder he didn’t come back and scratch it out.” She glanced up at Jake, and laughed. “You don’t really believe it was forevermore, do you?”
Funny, but Jake felt like the concept of “forevermore” was a notion that lurked on the edge of his consciousness, forbidden to enter. He shrugged self-consciously. “Don’t you believe in it?”
“No.” She laughed as if that were preposterous. “I don’t know anyone who has made it—do you?”
Good point. But he wanted to know someone who’d made it. He wanted to make it.
Robin leaned forward to look at the inscription. “I don’t really think in terms of forever. I don’t think of anything other than where I am going next. Lately I’ve begun to think that I haven’t been doing anything except running around in big circles. Maybe that’s my forevermore—caught on one big loop going nowhere and I can’t get off.” She laughed again and moved away from the window.
Jake wondered what had happened in her life that would cause such a beautiful woman to have no more hope for love than Robin did.
“Have you eaten?” she suddenly asked him. “I was sort of craving Thai food—I’d love to take you along. You know, payback for watching Wheel of Fortune with Grandpa.”
Say no, he told himself. He needed to study, needed desperately to study before he fell further behind. Not to mention his vow to himself to never repeat what had happened Sunday. It was a bad idea, very bad, given their yo-yo dance. “I’ve really got—”
“It’s still pretty early—we can swing by your house,” she interjected. “Zaney said it was in the Heights, right?”
Jake did a frantic search of his brain to remember if he’d left anything objectionable lying around his house. God, he wasn’t actually considering— “Yeah . . . sure,” he said out loud, feeling like a monumental fool the instant the words slipped off his tongue.
Twenty minutes later, as Jake made his way through the streets of Houston to the Heights (Robin following in her Mercedes), he said aloud, “You are a goddam idiot. You are going to get all wrapped up in this and then what? Wait for her to tell you she doesn’t want you around? Because she will, you stupid asshole.”
His brain was obviously clueless, his groin was clearly running the show, and that annoyed Jake to no end. The more he knew Robin, the less he wanted that to be a reason to be with her—he did not want to lust after her, but she was so gorgeous that a man could hardly keep from it. It was all too complicated for his peabrain to understand, and
, he thought as he pulled up to his house, slammed the truck into park, and got out, he wasn’t going to try and understand it. Not right this moment, anyway. He had the more immediate problem of making sure there wasn’t any dirty underwear in plain sight.
Parking behind him, Robin stepped out of her car and looked up in awe at the old Victorian house. “Ooh, this is beautiful!” she said, coming around the front of her car.
“I’m doing some work, so it doesn’t look too great inside,” he warned her as they ascended the old steps onto the wraparound porch. He was painfully aware that his house, while charming, did not even come close to comparing with hers. His was a house that was attainable—hers was a house straight out of a Hollywood movie. He fumbled with the lock, opened the door and stood aside, letting Robin precede him. She walked in slowly, admiring the ten-foot ceilings, the elaborate crown molding, and the old floor-to-ceiling brick fireplace.
“This is wonderful,” she said, walking deeper into the room. “Cozy, cheerful . . . much more warm and inviting than mine. Mine could double as a museum, don’t you think? Mind if I look around?”
“Help yourself. I’m gonna grab a shower. There’s some beer in the fridge if you’d like one.” As he disappeared into his room to shower and change, he watched her wander into the dining room, glance at his homework strewn across the table, then on, to the kitchen.
Jake reappeared twenty minutes later, showered, shaved, wearing khakis and a crisp white shirt that, thankfully, he’d found hanging in his closet.
Robin was sitting in his one chair—a recliner—flipping through the pages of Architectural Digest. She glanced up as he walked in the room, flashed an instantaneous smile that made him warm all over. “Well, well, Mr. Manning,” she said, coming to her feet.
