She motioned toward the door and the two women slipped quietly out into the hallway. Juli eased the door closed.
“I hope you’re having a good time.”
“I am.”
They paused as they reached the large open area. The people she didn’t know were moving around or standing in small groups chatting, but those she did—Brian, Maia, Joel and Megan—were huddled together at the end of the dining room table. Plates of food were being enjoyed and the conversation seemed lively.
Megan looked up as they approached. “Is Danny okay?”
Juli paused and leaned over to put an arm around Megan’s shoulders. “He’s fine. Back in bed and sound asleep.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did exactly the right thing.” She placed a light kiss on Megan’s forehead.
Megan glowed.
Brian looked pleased and proud.
Joel said, “Hey, Frannie. Brian has promised to show me some prime fishing spots.”
“You fish?”
“Not in a long time.” Joel jumped up and pulled another chair up close. “Have a seat.”
Frannie put her hands on the back of the chair. Both Brian and Joel were watching her.
“I’ll be back. I’ll get a plate of food first.”
“Have a seat and I’ll fetch whatever you want.”
“I’ll take care of it. I’m not sure what I want.”
Maia said, “I’ll go with you, Fran. I need to check out the dessert table.” She looked at Juli. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
“I couldn’t do it without Luke.” She laughed as Luke joined her. “And neither of us could do it without Esther.”
Frannie asked Maia as they walked away, “Who’s Esther?”
“She’s the housekeeper, but more importantly, she’s the keeper of the recipes. Wait until you try her fudge.”
“You are a chocolate fiend, aren’t you?”
“Guilty.” She handed Frannie a dessert plate. “I like your Joel.”
“My Joel? He’s a friend. I’ve known him most of my life.”
“Sometimes those relationships lead to more.”
“Not for Joel and me.”
“What about Brian?”
Frannie fumbled her plate. It fell to the floor and the food scattered.
“Oh, no. Look what I’ve done.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Maia helped retrieve the bits of fudge from the floor.
“I’m sorry. So sorry.” She trembled inside. She’d lost her armor or maybe it had been knocked askew. Either way, she panicked.
“Frannie.” She touched her shoulder. “It’s nothing. Really. I mean it.”
The rush of tension had nearly swamped her. She drew a deep breath. The words came out on their own.
“I always screw stuff up.”
“What?” Maia looked incredulous.
And so, yes, she’d done it again. Her face grew hot and she felt queasy.
“Hang in there.” Maia dug her fingers into Frannie’s upper arm. “Come with me.”
She led her out to the deck. The cold air hit her like a life preserver.
“Is this better? You turned so red. For what? For nothing. A piece of dropped fudge? You scared me.”
“It was warm in there. It kind of hit me wrong.”
“Okay, take another deep breath. I apologize for asking personal questions. I confess I have an ulterior motive.”
Ulterior motive? She knew about those. Laurel had taught her well. She simply looked at Maia and didn’t answer.
Maia leaned against the deck rail. The thick clouds had parted, and behind her the moon was fully round and surreal. It was impossible to look at Maia and miss that moon and the stars spreading out, filling the dark skies.
“About Brian, I mean.”
“Brian?”
“He and I have been on the outs recently. I think I told you.”
“You mentioned something.” Not about her, then.
“He’s angry with me, and not without reason.” Maia hugged her arms. “I interfered between him and his ex, Diane. I convinced him to try again for Megan’s sake. It was a mistake. I should’ve stayed out of it.”
“Probably. But you’re his sister. You did what you thought was best, right?”
“Good intentions. What’s the saying?”
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
“Yikes. Well, I don’t think I’m on that road.” She touched Frannie’s arm. “I want to thank you, though. You and Joel. I think Brian’s warming up to me. He’s been more himself this evening.” She dabbed at her eyes.
“Don’t cry out here, you’ll have icicles hanging from your lashes.”
Maia giggled. “It is pretty cold out here. I guess we’d better get back inside.”
As they reached the door, Frannie said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being a friend.”
****
Shortly after Brian ushered a sleepy Megan out the door, Frannie told Joel it was time to go. She thanked Juli and Luke for a lovely time. Joel helped her on with her coat, and Maia told them goodnight. When they pulled into the driveway at Captain’s Walk, Joel spoke.
“Can we talk for a moment?”
“Sure.” Now what?
“The party was nice. I enjoyed meeting your friends.”
“Friends? Maybe. Certainly, they are friendly. I had a good time, too.”
“I need to ask you something. It’s awkward, but it’s important.”
She couldn’t say no, so she nodded and waited.
“How do you feel about me?”
“What do you mean?”
“How do you feel about me? You’re always kind and friendly. A friend. Is there more or is that all?”
Awkward, but in true Joel fashion, he was dignified and gentle.
“You are a friend.” Frannie shook her head. “I’m sorry if I gave the impression there was more. I don’t play with people’s feelings.”
Joel stared straight ahead for a full minute before answering. “I see. Your mother suggested you felt more. She encouraged me to contact you. She said, well, that doesn’t matter. Maybe she had it in her head that we’d make a nice couple.” He met her eyes. “I think so, too, but that’s only good if it goes both ways.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
“Joel, thank you for being you.” Her eyes felt misty. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll walk you to the door.”
“No need. Take care, Joel.” She slid from the car.
Joel sat with the headlights on while she climbed the stairs and unlocked the door. She paused and waved. His car didn’t move right away, so she went inside.
Laurel. She should’ve realized Laurel wouldn’t be content to stay out of it. What had she said to him? What mischief had she attempted?
Joel’s gift was sitting on the coffee table. Oh. A twinge of guilt. She went over and picked it up, opening the bag gingerly.
Tea. One of her favorite blends. Plus a box of the little bags for making one’s own teabags.
She sagged back against the sofa, dissatisfied. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the thought, plus it was nice that people were aware she enjoyed tea—as if they could miss it. But if gift-givers didn’t know what else to get her, then maybe she was hiding herself too well.
****
She picked out a couple of items, a framed photo and a tiny ship in a bottle, to take to the rehab. It would be a little piece of home for Uncle Will.
She went straight to his room. He wasn’t there. She situated the frame and ship on the windowsill, which was more eye level than the top of the bureau. The small room seemed so empty, so anonymous, without him. Too restless to sit and wait, she wandered down the hallway in the direction of the dining room and the physical therapy room. She was bound to find him in one place or the other. Both were down the hall a
nd to the left.
As she reached the corner, she almost crashed into a couple of people—or they nearly rolled into her.
Seeing the wheelchair, she tried to reverse direction too fast and stumbled, catching herself against the wall.
Was he laughing? One frail hand was raised as if he might’ve attempted to catch her if she’d fallen in his direction, but the grin was broad, and yes, the noises coming from him sounded a lot like laughter. Uncle Will. And pushing the chair? Brian.
Brian flew around from behind the wheelchair and grabbed her arm. “Steady now?”
Frannie looked back and forth between them and then settled on Brian.
“What are you doing here?”
“Visiting?” He released her.
“Uncle Will, were you laughing?” She asked in mock horror, now that her heart had slowed. “You two were hot-rodding it down the hallway and nearly ran over me.”
He pointed at her. “Fran.” A breath. “Okay?”
“Uncle Will!” Her eyes stung. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Will was doing his PT.”
“On Saturday? Isn’t that during the week?”
“Yeah, but we do a little low-level workout on the weekend.”
“Really? How do you know what to do?”
“No worries. I’ve worked it out with the therapist.”
“I wasn’t worried, but…oh, here’s lunch.”
“We’d better get back.”
Brian wheeled him into the room and then positioned the adjustable table over his legs.
“Where’s Janet?” Frannie asked.
“Running an errand. I told her I’d handle lunch.”
“But he has trouble eating.”
“We’ll take it slow and easy. Is that right, Will?”
She let Brian take the vinyl-covered chair and she perched on the foot of the bed. Brian spoon-fed her uncle, but without any of the cutesy or condescending stuff. Man to man. If Will tried to say something. Brian would ask him to wait or slow down. He was so patient. Such patience wasn’t in her. She knew it wasn’t.
“Well, hello, there! I see I missed lunch.” Janet came walking in, unbuttoning her coat at the same time.
“Hello, Will. Hi, there, Brian. And Fran. Looks like a small party is happening here. Are y’all having fun without me?” She hung her coat in the narrow closet. “How’d the workout go?”
Uncle Will raised one hand and wagged his index finger up and down.
“Very funny. I hope you got more done than that.”
****
“How is it that you haven’t mentioned these visits?”
“Was I supposed to?”
“I get the feeling that this is a regular thing.”
“I try to be here every weekend. Sometimes Saturday. Sometimes Sunday. We do simple movements. Goof around some.”
“I had no idea.”
“What is it, Fran? Was I supposed to clear it with you?”
“No. Not at all.” She was stunned by his reaction. “I wasn’t being critical. I was impressed.” She thought about it. “Was, that is, until you decided to be mean.” She turned to walk away.
He grabbed her arm. “Just a minute. Impressed? Why?”
“Your patience. With Will, at least.”
“You didn’t look impressed. You looked like you were cross-examining me.”
“Honestly, what’s up with you? Why are you so cranky?”
He dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I guess I was remembering when I was here for my own therapy. I wasn’t the best patient. Not a patient patient.”
“So this is where you got your training?”
He stared at her as if she’d grown a third eyeball right in the middle of her forehead.
“What’s wrong?” She whispered, made uneasy by the intensity of his gaze.
He reached over and she waited, mesmerized, as he touched that space between her eyebrows, softly, gently. What was going on? She didn’t know, but she held still, hardly breathing. His fingers slid down, tracing her jaw line and stopped on her throat. Before she had to make a decision regarding his behavior or her response, he pulled away. She didn’t move.
“Join me for coffee? Maybe a bite to eat?”
She exhaled and found her voice. “Is this a date?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll figure that out.”
She nodded.
Frannie followed him down Arendell Street. He rode his motorcycle. His bike was faded and dented. Reminded her of his manners. But then who was she to critique anyone’s interpersonal skills? She was pretty sure she’d presented a calm façade during the…moment. She reached up and touched that spot between her eyes. She felt the two furrows and wished she could make them go away, and maybe erase a couple of years while she was at it. Maybe she should see a plastic surgeon.
Dinner with Brian. The idea made her stomach flip around a little. Play it cool. It’s dinner, not a commitment.
They passed restaurants as they drove until finally, he turned into the parking lot of a small restaurant.
Irrationally, now that they had finally arrived, she was tempted to press her foot down on the accelerator and keep on going.
Chapter Fourteen
He was already off his bike and waiting, helmet in his arm, as she pulled up in the parking space next to his and got out of her car.
She asked, “I know the weather’s been milder, but it’s not really bike weather, is it?”
“Depends on the rider.”
He held the diner’s door open for her and when she headed toward the tables off to the left, he steered her to a booth over by the windows. Not much real privacy, but at least the tall board between the booths gave the illusion. He helped her off with her coat, thinking it had been a long time since he’d done that. He unzipped his jacket and stripped off his gloves, dropping them next to his helmet while Fran carefully folded her coat and laid it on the seat next to her purse before she slid in.
She sat so straight. Some sort of extreme posture. He had a flash of that scene from the movie Titanic. The one where the girls were taught to sit like that. The idea of Megan in one of those lacey dresses and sitting with a board-straight back at a tea table almost choked him. Then, in a brief flash, he felt a loss, as if important things were missing in Megan’s life and it was his fault. But not that. Megan would kill him if he tried to make her do that. The thought made him smile and Fran smiled back.
“Have you been here before?”
“Many times. It’s not fancy, but the food’s good and it’s easy on the wallet. You haven’t been here?”
“No.”
“I thought everyone in eastern North Carolina had eaten here at one time or another.”
“Cox Family Restaurant.” She read from the menu.
“I forget that you’re from west of I-95.”
“Hah. You say that like it’s a different country.”
“It sorta is.” He watched her focus on the menu items, running one finger down the list, moving like a speed-reader. Her finger came to a halt.
“Something look good to you?”
She tapped the menu. “Grilled cheese. I don’t think I’ve had a grilled cheese sandwich since I was a child.” She smiled. “It reminds me of my dad and autumn afternoons. Not sure why. I guess there’s memories deep down inside somewhere.”
“Your dad. You don’t talk about him. About your mother some, though I can’t say it’s good. But not about your dad at all.”
“My dad died when I was a teenager.” She drummed her fingers on the table. A sharp drumming, then an abrupt stop.
Her eyes, her fingers, moving and fidgeting like when she was watching him paint. Always moving except for when he’d seen her with Megan.
“Laurel is my stepmother.”
“Yeah? As in evil stepmother?”
“No, that sounds childish and, besides, she’s actually my adoptive mother. I’ve only just found out and I’m still getting used to the idea. She and I hav
e some things to work out.”
“Just found out?”
She grimaced. “Long story and not good for the digestion.”
She’d said it with finality and he let it go. “You’re a mystery woman.”
“Me? Sorry to disappoint, but there’s nothing about me or my life worth being mysterious about.”
“Order?”
They both jumped. He didn’t recognize the waitress. He knew most of them and would’ve engaged this one in conversation, but didn’t want to annoy Fran by making it look like he was flirting in front of her, so he jumped right into ordering.
He asked her, “Grilled cheese for you, right? Coffee or soda?”
She raised her eyebrows. He knew right away he should’ve let her speak for herself. Maybe her edginess was catching.
“Do you have sparkling water? With a slice of lemon?”
The waitress said, “No, ma’am. Glass of water?”
“That will be fine.” She threw up her hand. “No, wait. Do you have iced tea?”
“Sweet or unsweet?”
“Sweet tea. Yes, with lemon, please.”
Sweet tea. Yet she looked so pleased with herself. Almost smug. But those eyes. Was it the innocence in them, or the wariness that kept snaring him?
She caught him staring. “What about Megan? It’s not a school day.”
“She’s with Diane.”
“Her mom’s back?”
He shrugged. “Yep. No idea where she went. She didn’t have much to say about it.” He’d asked, for all the good it did him. “She’s keeping her secrets to herself.”
“Secrets.” Frannie sighed and put her elbow on the table and rested her cheek against her hand. “Now that I think of it, by the time a woman gets to be my age she ought to have a few secrets.”
“I’d say so.” He grinned. “It’s not that hard to get into enough trouble to have some. I can give lots of advice on that.”
“I’ll let you know if I need some of that advice.”
Was she flirting? Sounded like it. “You seem more relaxed now. In the beginning, you were pretty nervous.”
She shrugged, but looked down at the pepper shaker as if it were fascinating. “You were a stranger. Isn’t every woman uneasy around strange men?”
He tried not to laugh and it came out sounding like a snort. “Actually, no.”
Beach Winds Page 13
