Apparently her status had been sufficiently elevated that the nine-year-old was no longer ashamed to be related to her. That, at least, was progress.
* * *
Adam waited until they’d almost reached Tacoma before he mentioned the scene at Shana’s. Jazmine had barely said a word from the moment they’d left. Now and then she glanced in his direction, as if she was afraid he was upset, but really he had no one to blame but himself. He did know women who were lost without a relationship, although he didn’t think Shana was like that. Intentionally or not, Jazz had misunderstood his remark and used it for her own purposes.
“You really did it this time,” he murmured.
“Are you mad?”
“No, but your aunt was.”
“I know, but don’t you be mad, okay?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything. You and I should not have been discussing male-female relationships.”
“Did you mean what you said about my aunt being beautiful and all that?”
“Yes.” This was only the second time he’d seen Shana; again, he’d come away wanting to know her better. He might have ruined any chance of that, but he hoped not. When he’d started out from Everett, he’d considered inviting Shana to join them. But it hadn’t taken him long to decide that today probably wasn’t opportune.
“What I told your aunt is the truth. She is a beautiful woman,” he said casually as he headed south on the interstate.
“She likes you.”
Adam chuckled.
“No, I’m serious. She’s got the hots for you. I can tell.”
“I don’t think so.” Back to reality. Shana might be attracted to him, but she’d never admit that now.
“I know so!”
“Jazmine, listen…”
“Okay, but can I say what I want to first?”
Apparently she was taking lessons from her aunt Shana. “Fine.”
“I was thinking about what you said—about not feeling sparks with Mom. But I thought you might with Aunt Shana.”
“Jazmine, you’re far too interested in matters that are none of your concern. How do you know about this stuff, anyway? MTV?”
She groaned. “Why do adults always say things like that?”
“Because they’re true.”
“All I want is for you to marry her and be happy.”
“Uh…”
“Has the cat got your tongue?” Jazmine teased. “Adults say that, too. No, really, I am serious. If you married my aunt Shana, everything would be perfect. She needs a husband and you need a wife.”
“I don’t need a wife,” he argued. “And it’s none of—”
“But you’d like to be married one day, wouldn’t you?” she broke in.
“Yes,” he said reluctantly. He’d had the very same thought just recently, but he’d credited that to feeling sorry for himself after the surgery. Granted, Shana was attractive but he didn’t need a nine-year-old playing matchmaker. Although…He smiled involuntarily. Shana appealed to him, and he was more and more inclined to pursue the relationship. On his own schedule and in his own way.
“I can help,” Jazmine offered.
“It would be best if you left this between your aunt and me. Agreed?”
After a moment, Jazmine nodded. “Agreed.”
“Good, now let’s have a wonderful day, all right?”
Jazmine turned a smile of pure joy on him. “All right.”
A surprise awaited him when they arrived at the Museum of Glass. The Dale Chihuly exhibit was in the Tacoma Art Museum and Union Station, not in the nearby Museum of Glass. Jazmine and Adam took the guided walking tour of his permanent display and were awestruck by the Bridge of Glass. The five-hundred-foot pedestrian bridge linked the Tacoma waterfront to Pacific Avenue.
Originally Adam had gotten information about Chihuly over the Internet when he was researching a destination for today’s outing. Chihuly was known for his massive glass installations, but the man’s talent was even more impressive than Adam had realized. Both he and Jazmine loved his vibrant use of color and unique style. Following the walking tour, they stopped at the Museum of Glass. Adam was in for a surprise there, too. The museum was huge: it contained thirteen thousand square feet of open exhibition space. Jazmine was enthralled by the Hot Shop Amphitheater, which was the building’s most striking feature. Cone-shaped, it leaned at a seventeen-degree angle, and was ninety feet high and a hundred feet wide. The theater included a glass studio where a team of artists blew and cast glass. Afterward, Adam and Jazmine ate sandwiches in the museum café and visited the gift shop. When Adam had suggested this, it had seemed like an entertaining thing to do, but he’d quickly become caught up in the excitement and drama of watching the artists work.
By the end of the afternoon, he needed a break, and sat with a cup of coffee while Jazmine leafed through a book he’d bought her.
Before they left, Jazmine bought a postcard of the Dale Chihuly glass flowers displayed on the ceiling of a Las Vegas casino to send her mother.
“Are you ready to go back to your aunt’s?” he asked, sipping his coffee.
“I guess,” Jazmine said. “But only if you are.”
Adam recognized a trap when he saw one. If he appeared too eager, little Jazmine might suspect he wanted to see Shana again. He did, but he sure wasn’t going to admit it, especially to her.
Chapter Eight
For Shana, having an entire Sunday to herself was sheer luxury. Catherine was working at the restaurant and this was the first day she’d taken off since she’d purchased the business. Shana intended to take full advantage of this gift of time.
Working as many hours as she did, she’d been putting off a number of tasks and spent two hours doing paperwork. The Olsens had trained her well in every aspect of owning a restaurant, but they’d failed to warn her how much paperwork was involved. Getting everything organized wasn’t difficult but it was time-consuming. After working all day and handling the closing in the evening, she was exhausted, and making sense of anything more than the remote control was beyond her.
Once the paperwork was up-to-date, she polished her toenails, and between three loads of wash, she luxuriated in a new mystery she’d been trying to read for weeks. She’d been reading at night in fits and starts, but couldn’t manage more than fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. The author was one of her favorites but to Shana’s surprise her mind kept wandering away from the page. She supposed it was because she felt guilty about all the things she should be doing.
When she wasn’t fretting over that, her thoughts were on Jazmine and Adam. She knew they were going to the Museum of Glass, but that couldn’t possibly take all afternoon. Well, maybe it could; she didn’t know.
Finally Shana gave up and shut the book. This was Adam Kennedy’s fault. Even when he was nowhere in sight, he wouldn’t leave her alone.
When she could stand it no longer, Shana logged on to the computer and left her sister a message.
Sent: Sunday, June 12
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Adam Kennedy: Friend or Foe?
Dear Ali,
Just checking in to let you know that despite our rocky start, everything’s going well with Jazz and me. She’s a great kid.
The upcoming week is the last of the school year. I’m thrilled at how quickly Jazmine has adjusted and how fast she’s made friends. I guess she’s had lots of practice. She’s a tremendous help at the ice-cream and pizza parlor and insists on taking pizzas to the customers’ tables, which I appreciate.
The other reason I’m writing is that I’ve got a question about Peter’s friend, Adam Kennedy. I must have met him at Peter’s funeral, but if so I don’t remember. Jazmine seems to think you’re romantically interested in him. Are you? You’ve never mentioned him before—at least not that I can recall. Before you make anything of this inquiry, I want it understood that I find him arrogant and egotistical.
Jazmine, however, thinks the guy walks on water. They’re off this afternoon to explore some glass museum. I’d be grateful if you’d tell me what you know about him. For instance, has he ever been married? If not, why? I don’t want to give you the wrong impression or anything—I do find him arrogant. But he sort of interests me, too. Fill in the blanks for me, would you?
Love,
Shana
* * *
At six Shana tossed a salad for dinner. The house seemed terribly quiet, and she turned on the television for company. That wasn’t like her. In all her years of living alone, she’d never once felt this lonely. At first she wondered if it was due to the breakup with Brad, but all she felt when she thought about him was regret for all that wasted time—and anger. She was just plain glad he was out of her life. In fact, she rarely thought of him at all and that surprised her.
Jazmine had been with her for only a few weeks, and already Shana couldn’t imagine life without her. She missed Jazmine’s energy—blaring her music or talking on the phone, or plying Shana with questions about all sorts of things. The difference between the unhappy nine-year-old who’d arrived on her doorstep and the girl she was now—well, it seemed nothing short of astonishing. She’d become extroverted, interested and…interfering.
A little after seven, Jazmine burst into the house. “I’m back!” she shouted.
Before Shana could issue a word of welcome, Jazmine regaled her with details of how they’d spent their day. She talked about the walking tour and chattered excitedly about watching the artists work in the Museum of Glass. She’d fed the seagulls along the waterfront on Rustin Way and then Adam had taken her for a quick visit to the zoo at Point Defiance Park. Shana could hardly believe the girl could talk so fast and breathe at the same time.
“I guess you had a completely rotten time?” Shana asked, teasing her. Shana realized as she spoke that the lieutenant commander was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Adam?”
“We were kind of late and he had to get back.” Jazmine’s smile widened. “Did you want him to come inside?”
“Not really. I just thought he might like to…visit for a few minutes.” Actually, after the way she’d torn into him on his arrival, she didn’t blame him for avoiding her.
“We should probably have a little talk,” Shana said, slipping an arm around Jazmine’s shoulders.
Her niece stiffened. “I have a feeling this is the same little talk Uncle Adam and I had, only now it’s going to be the Aunt Shana version.”
Her interest was instantly piqued. “Really? And what did Adam have to say?”
Jazmine gave a long-suffering sigh. “That it would be a good idea if I left the two of you alone.”
“He’s right.” Shana was grateful Adam had taken it upon himself to explain this. Jazmine would accept it more readily coming from him.
“He also said I’m concerning myself with matters that aren’t any of my business.”
“Exactly.” Obviously Adam had been very forthright during his version of the “little talk.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t try matching you up with other men.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Shana said solemnly.
Jazmine sighed again. “I wouldn’t like it if you went around talking to boys about me.”
That was exactly how Shana had planned to approach the subject herself. “Did Adam make that comparison?”
Her niece nodded. “He said it on the drive back.”
“He’s smarter than he looks,” Shana muttered. Then, because she felt her niece should know this, she added, “A man and a woman can be friends without being romantically involved, Jazmine. It’s called a platonic relationship.”
The phone rang then, and without waiting for a second ring, Jazmine leaped like a gazelle into the other room. She ripped the receiver off the wall. “Hello,” she said urgently. “No, she’s here, you have the right number.” Jazmine held out the phone. “It’s for you.”
Shana started to ask who it was, but didn’t. Taking the receiver, she raised it to her ear. “This is Shana.”
“Shana. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to hear the sound of your voice.”
For the first time in her life, Shana’s knees felt as if they were about to buckle. It was Brad.
“Hello, Brad,” she said evenly, amazed at her ability to respond without emotion. The man had guts; she’d say that for him. “How’d you find me?” she asked coolly.
“It wasn’t easy. It’s taken me weeks.”
She supposed she should be complimented that he’d made the effort, but she wasn’t. “I don’t mean to be rude, but there was a reason I kept my number unlisted.”
“The least you can do is listen to what I have to say,” he told her.
“Everything’s been said.”
“But Shana—”
“There’s nothing more to say,” she insisted.
“At least give me your address. I can’t believe you’re living in Washington. Did you get a transfer?”
“That’s nothing to do with you.”
Jazmine was watching her carefully, eyes wide and quizzical as if she was hoping to memorize each word so she could repeat it.
“I would prefer if you didn’t phone me again.” Shana was prepared to cut him off, but he stopped her, obviously guessing her intentions.
“Don’t hang up,” he pleaded. “Please, Shana, just hear me out.”
“It won’t do any good.” She’d gone ramrod-straight, her resistance up. She didn’t even find this difficult, although she had to admit she was mildly curious as to why he’d sought her out.
“I don’t care. I need to get this off my chest. Just promise me you’ll listen.”
She didn’t want to encourage him with a response.
He continued despite that. “You told me you were leaving Portland, but I didn’t believe you. Shana, I miss you. I need you. Nothing is the same without you. I feel so empty. You have no idea how awful it’s been for me.”
That was their problem in a nutshell. The entire relationship had revolved around Brad Moore and his needs. He missed her, he needed her. She was convenient, loyal and endlessly patient. Well, no more.
She rolled her eyes and made a circular motion with her hand as though to hurry him along.
Jazmine planted her hand over her mouth to smother her giggles.
“Are you listening?” he asked, finishing up a five-minute soliloquy about how much he missed all their special times. Translation: all the “special” times when she’d been there to see to his comfort. He recounted the little ways she’d indulged him—the meals she’d cooked according to his likes and dislikes, the movies she’d watched because he’d chosen them, the Christmas shopping she’d done for him…Not once did he say any of the things that might have changed her mind, including the fact that he loved her.
So far, everything he’d said reaffirmed her belief that she’d made the right decision. It would always be about Brad and what he needed from her and how important she was to his comfort. Apparently Sylvia wasn’t nearly as accommodating as Shana.
Finally she couldn’t take it any longer.
“Are you finished yet?” she asked and yawned rudely to signal her boredom.
Her question was followed by a short silence. “You’ve changed, Shana.”
“Yes,” she told him in a curt voice. “Yes, I have.”
“I can’t believe you don’t love me anymore.”
Shana noticed he hadn’t even bothered to ask about the girl who’d answered the phone.
Brad seemed shocked that she wasn’t ready to race back into his arms just because he’d made an effort to find her. A short while ago, she’d been grateful for each little crumb he’d tossed her way. Those days were over. Oh, this felt good. She felt good.
“What’s happened to my sweet Shana?” he asked. “This isn’t like you.”
“I woke up,” she informed him, “and I didn’t respect the woman I’d become. It was time to cle
an house. Out with the old and in with the new.”
The line went silent as he absorbed this. “You’re dating someone else, aren’t you?”
The temptation to let him believe that was strong, and she might have given in to it, if not for Jazmine. With her niece listening to every word, Shana felt honor-bound to tell the truth.
“It’s just like you to think that, but no, I’m not seeing anyone else.” She bit back the words to tell him she could if she wanted to. Well, there was that single father who might’ve been interested—and Adam Kennedy.
His relief was instantaneous. “You’ll always love me….”
“No,” she said firmly. “I won’t. I don’t. Not anymore. For your sake and mine, please don’t call me again.”
He started to argue, but Shana wasn’t willing to listen. She should’ve hung up the phone long before, but some perverse satisfaction had kept her on the line.
As she replaced the receiver, she looked over at Jazmine. Her niece gave a loud triumphant shout. “Way to go, Aunt Shana!”
They exchanged high fives. Shana felt exuberant and then guilty for not experiencing even the slightest disappointment. She was actually grateful Brad had phoned because this conversation had provided complete and final proof that she’d reclaimed her own life.
“Can I tell Uncle Adam about this?” Jazmine asked happily.
“Adam?” Her suspicions immediately rose to the surface. “Whatever for?”
“Because,” Jazmine replied as if it should be obvious. “He should know that you really are over Brad. The door’s open, isn’t it? I mean, you’re cured.”
Shana liked the analogy. “I am cured, but let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?”
Jazmine frowned. “If you say so,” she said without enthusiasm.
The kid was certainly eager to get her and Adam together. Presumably she’d abandoned her earlier hopes for Adam and her mother. “I want your promise that you won’t talk to Adam about any part of my conversation with Brad.”
Muttering under her breath, Jazmine shook her head. Halfway to her room, she turned back. “Uncle Adam wanted me to tell you he’ll be by next Saturday. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set Page 106
