Reconsidering Riley

by Lisa Plumley

  Then she breezed out with her ladies in tow, back straight and stilettos steady. If Riley thought he’d make her cave with mere teasing touches, she reminded herself…well, he’d better think again. It would take more than that to bring Jayne Murphy to her knees.

  A whole lot more.

  Later that night, Jayne stood again on the rock-walled lodge deck. Darkness covered the landscape. It blurred all but the most ominous rock formations, intensified the creaks of crickets and the rustlings of unknown creatures…worsened her fears. She was afraid of the dark, and had been for as long as she could remember.

  Luckily, light shined from a few of the lodge’s windows. It wasn’t bright enough to fully pierce the darkness, but it did glow subtly enough to give Jayne the courage to do what she’d come here to do.

  The chill of the stone wall met her palms. She leaned against it, gazing upward at the points of light overhead. From here, with no city lights to obscure them, the stars were brilliant and numerous. Their panorama arched above her like an immense sprinkling of diamonds on velvet in a Tiffany window—only better, because they were obtainable. In a way.

  Breathing in, Jayne closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she fixed her gaze on the first star she saw.

  “I’m afraid,” she whispered, still grasping the wall for security. “Afraid to camp, afraid to hike, afraid I’ll let everyone down. Please, please give me the courage to do this.”

  She waited, feeling a lump rise in her throat. Swallowing past it, Jayne continued to watch her chosen star. Wishes had to be made aloud to come true, and there was nothing to do but go on.

  “I swear I’ll give up Godiva, stop objectifying Calvin Klein poster boys, even—” She searched for something suitably kind-hearted she could exchange for the enormous wish she sought. “—even use the next Macy’s ad to teach little kids to read, not to target the next DKNY sale. Just please, please let me do this.”

  As was her habit, Jayne stood beneath the stars a moment longer. Then, feeling as though she’d done all she could, she turned away and headed back to rejoin the group inside the lodge.

  There, the brightness reassured her. Warmth seeped through the baby blue sweater she’d thrown on over her shirtdress, comforting her. But her conscience…that was another story.

  Jayne ran back outside. She found her star again.

  “Okay, so maybe I’ll target a few shoe sales before teaching the kids to read,” she confessed, her face tilted upward. “But I swear I’ll do everything else!”

  Riley stood outside the lodge the following morning, waiting for his group to finish their post-breakfast primp and meet him for preliminary training. The fresh April air was crisp with creosote and seven-thirty chill, and the sun’s new rays held little heat yet. But it would warm up, given time.

  He wasn’t sure the same philosophy applied to Jayne. After yesterday’s adventures in pack-fitting, Riley had realized a few things. First, that touching and teasing might not have been the best way to bring her ‘round to his way of thinking. Second, that being touched only made her tense up. Third, that clearly much more touching would be necessary to overcome the problem.

  Fourth, and most displeasing, was that all those troubles had undoubtedly been caused by the jerk who’d sent her to Heartbreak Camp. Riley resented him mightily, whoever he was. He’d taken a fun-loving, warm, affectionate woman and turned her into someone who froze at the most innocent—or, okay, not-quite-innocent—touch.

  It was tragic. Unacceptable. Reprehensible.

  He could hardly wait to start remedying it.

  Jayne deserved a happy, carefree life. A life like the one Riley enjoyed himself, whether sportfishing on Baja’s East Cape or dangling from an overhang while rock climbing in Canada. Sure, Jayne’s city-bound days might not feel as free as Riley’s days did in the wild, but he figured she could still be happy. She could heal, and go forward without that bozo ex-boyfriend dogging her thoughts.

  Of course, Jayne thought she was going to achieve that healing with the help of some guru’s mumbo-jumbo do-it-yourself techniques. Riley knew that was ridiculous. Who needed self-help, when the help of someone who cared about you was at hand?

  Yep, he told himself as he worked to assemble the things he’d need for this morning’s training. That was exactly right. He might not want to lead a bunch of guidance groupies into the wilderness, but at least he could rack up a few good deeds while he did. After all, like the Zen master he’d photographed in Nepal had told him—

  Hubba, hubba.

  Okay, so that wasn’t quite what the Zen master had said. But it was all that went through Riley’s mind as the lodge’s front door opened and Jayne and her cohorts filed out.

  Okay, so “filed out” was a misnomer. Shimmied out, va-va-voomed out, sashayed out…all those were more accurate descriptions of the sight that greeted him. Evidently, the feminine bonding he’d observed yesterday had led to a morphing of body movements. All of the women had adopted Jayne’s sexy way of walking—with various degrees of effectiveness.

  They descended the front steps and crossed into the patch of sandy yard designated as the training area. Carla strutted with her beringed nose held high. Mitzi popped her gum with extra sassiness. Donna and Doris jostled each other as the sisters swished their hips. Even shy Kelly put a little wiggle in her walk.

  None of them, though, had mastered the elegant jubilation that defined Jayne’s movements. Dressed in a baby blue sweater, blue jeans with the legs rolled up at the ankles, a rhinestone bracelet, and strappy heels, she somehow managed to embody sex appeal and decisiveness with every long-legged stride. Watching her move was an education in femininity…and a distraction that made Riley nearly pitch into the tents he’d been handling.

  They stopped in front of him, their highly-accessorized selves at the ready. Necklaces, bracelets, and earrings gleamed in the rising sunlight. Lipstick and eye makeup defined every face. A veritable smorgasbord of perfumes wafted on the morning breeze.

  Riley sneezed. “Good morning,” he said with a smile. “You’re all looking very…gussied up today.”

  They beamed. Whew. “Gussied up” was acceptable. A man could never tell. He wouldn’t have thought describing a pack that fit like a lover’s embrace would have caused a mass exodus yesterday, but that’s what had happened. Now, suddenly, he felt on firmer footing with the group again.

  Until just this minute, he hadn’t realized how much he’d—well, worried wasn’t exactly the right word—wondered about this post-exodus encounter.

  “We all had, like, mini-makeovers at the slumber party last night,” Carla explained.

  “Jayne brought enough Velcro rollers and Bioré strips for everyone,” Mitzi said, touching her hair. “She’s the best!”

  “If you look good, you feel good,” Kelly offered.

  “Yay!” they all cheered, high-fiving each other as though they’d scored three-pointers rather than beauty advice.

  “Good morning,” Jayne said amid the hubbub.

  His world stood still.

  What? His world stood still? What was with all the mooshy sentiment all of a sudden? Riley wondered. Jayne merely looked at him, and he—

  “It’s a little chilly out,” she went on.

  —wanted to offer her the shirt off his back, just to keep her warm. Shaking off the notion (her sweater looked plenty warm, and plenty perfectly-fitted, too), Riley addressed the group.

  “Is it too late for one of those makeovers?” he asked. He grasped the ends of his shirt and tugged them outward. “I just washed this shirt, and I can’t do a thing with it.”

  They laughed. He grinned, tousling his hair selfconsciously with his hand. Not for a million dollars would Riley have admitted to glancing twice at Gwen’s blow dryer this morning, considering “gussying” himself up to make a good impression.

  “You don’t need any help, young man,” Doris said, looking him up and down. “You look just fine, just the way you are.”

  “
Nonsense. Better than fine,” Donna clarified. “Shoot, if I were fifteen years younger….”

  They waggled their eyebrows. Riley started. Had his clothes transformed into some Chippendale’s-type G-string ensemble when he wasn’t looking? The last time he’d checked, he’d dragged on a perfectly ordinary Polarfleece hooded shirt, jeans, and Timberlands this morning. But the sisters’ lascivious looks made him double-check.

  Jayne caught him at it. She grinned. “Don’t worry.”

  Their communication mojo was still functioning. She’d guessed what he’d been thinking. Remarkable.

  “Your buckle isn’t hanging out,” she added.

  Huh? Riley gave her a quizzical look, but she only whipped out a leopard-print compact and—urgently—checked her lipstick.

  He examined her pinkening cheeks, wondering at the cause of her blush. But then the rest of the group crowded around him, demanding to know what was on their training agenda for the day. Riley was forced to turn his attention to the job at hand.

  “We’ll be spending the morning learning to set up tents.” He nudged his hiking boot toward the two-person models stacked beside him. “Then, a crash course in orienteering with a compass. After lunch, we’ll warm up with a short hike around the base of Lower Chimney Rock. We’ll make sure your packs are comfortable, your hiking boots are properly broken-in—”

  He stopped, looking at the sandals, Hush Puppies, thongs, and—in Carla’s case—purple-laced Puma’s they wore. “You did receive the information on hiking boots Gwen and Bud send to all new adventure travelers, didn’t you?”

  Everyone nodded. Riley breathed a sigh of relief.

  “And you have been taking some easy hikes to prepare?”

  Five heads nodded. Jayne raised her hand. “Does fifteen trips to the Banana Republic near Union Square count?”

  Riley began to nod. Then he gave her a sharp look. “Did you take a taxi?”

  “Do you think I have a death wish? I love San Francisco, but walking is the only way to go. I used to trek twenty-two blocks just to get to work.”

  Used to? Had her despair over her boneheaded former boyfriend caused her to lose her art department job, too? Riley became more determined than ever to help her.

  But since singling Jayne out for special attention would only make her feel…well, singled out, he settled for saying, “In that case, yes. That counts.”

  She smiled. He cheered up further.

  The women had had their slumber party. He’d had a good night’s sleep, plus a head-clearing sunrise hike. Everyone was feeling good, ready to embark on their adventure. Today, Riley would reassert his authority over the group and get everything back on track. Only one detail remained to be settled…

  “So.” He rubbed his hands together to warm them, glancing expectantly toward the lodge’s front door as he did. “Where’s your esteemed leader, the so-called self-help guru? She ought to be here for the training.”

  The women all ducked their heads, glancing toward one another silently. Then, to his surprise, Jayne stepped forward.

  “She’s right here. One so-called self-help guru, at your service.”

  Chapter Six

  “I thought I might find you here!”

  Calling the greeting to her uncle, Alexis finished the climb to his usual spot atop the mesquite-shaded rock formation near the lodge. She scrambled over slippery footholds and sat down beside him.

  From here, Nana and Gramp’s lodge was still visible beyond the rise, but the rocks and trees gave the place an illusion of privacy. The sun-warmed granite would totally make her butt go numb if she stayed very long, but for now it would be nice to hang with Uncle Riley.

  He looked up. Angled his chin in welcome. “Hey.”

  “Whatcha’ doin’ out here?” She brushed off her palms and gazed at him curiously. “I thought you only did the mountain man routine when something was bugging you.”

  Silently, her uncle stared out over the scenery.

  Was he shutting her out? Alexis frowned. She used to hate the way Brendan did that whenever his friends came around.

  So she probed. “You didn’t even wait to see if your group came back from their orienteering test after the hike.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure they did fine.”

  Alexis kept her mouth shut.

  A moment ticked past. Uncle Riley looked at her. “Did something happen? Did you come out here to tell me something happened? I knew I should have hung back and trailed them.”

  He started to get up. A shake of her head made him lower again, a question in his eyes.

  “Nothing happened,” Alexis explained with a wave of her hand. “They’re all still in Sedona.”

  “Sedona? They weren’t supposed to go to Sedona. They were supposed to navigate their way to the Red Rock Loop trail. Then call me on the two-way radio I left at the trailhead, so I could come pick them up.” He nudged the receiver at his side.

  “Yeah. Well. Turns out Jayne’s a natural at using a compass.” Alexis shrugged. “She led them straight to downtown Sedona instead.”

  “And tourist row.” He nodded knowingly.

  “Yeah. They’re probably working the Kokopelli key chains and turquoise bracelet displays pretty hard by now.” Tourists loved that stuff, Alexis knew. “Jayne called Nana to invite us to go shopping with them. For a famous author, she is so nice. I mean, she’s nice anyway, even without being an author, but especially considering how amazing her book has done…”

  He remained silent. Like the rocks they were sitting on.

  Alexis stopped. She gave him a speculative look. “I guess you didn’t expect Jayne to blow off your plan, huh?”

  Uncle Riley gazed outward again. “Jayne’s full of surprises today.”

  Whoa. Robo-uncle was back. Alexis wasn’t sure what put the ominous note in his voice, but she’d heard that tone before. Usually from one of her parents, when she missed her curfew. Sure, it sounded okay—on the surface. But underneath there was a “you’re in deep doo-doo” waiting to get out.

  Suddenly, she felt kind of sorry for Jayne. And curious to know what the woman had done to bug her usually-easygoing uncle.

  Before Alexis had a chance to ask, though, Uncle Riley changed the subject.

  “Why didn’t you go with them?” he asked. “I’m sure your great-grandma would have driven you to town.”

  Alexis shrugged. “I decided to stick around here. My mom usually calls after lunch.”

  He gave her a sharp look. Alexis braced herself. Typically, a look like that came with a hefty dose of pity and was followed by a poor, abandoned, little girl gesture. Like a hug. Nobody seemed to realize she was an adult now, and could handle this stuff. After all, she was as tall as her mom these days. Taller than Nana. Just because her mom’s call from Mexico had lasted all of five breezy minutes, that didn’t mean Alexis needed a pity hug.

  But since all Uncle Riley did was give her an understanding nod and then gaze into the distance again, she felt emboldened to continue.

  “I think she thinks calling me makes her look good to Gary. That’s the guy she’s been hooking up with since the divorce.”

  Alexis had her suspicions that her mom and dad had divorced because of Gary. Nobody had ever told her the whole story about things, but she had eyes. She could see her mom dressing up like a thirty-something Britney Spears to go “grocery shopping.” Alexis watched Jerry Springer after school sometimes. It hadn’t taken a genius to know something was going on.

  She hugged her knees to her chest. “My mom wants us to look like this perfect mother-daughter team. All we need are some credits and a little mood music, and we’ll be the freakin’ ‘Gilmore Girls.’”

  “You’re better than the ‘Gilmore Girls,’” Uncle Riley said loyally. “And don’t say ‘freakin’.’”

  Alexis snorted. Sometimes, her uncle was pretty old-fashioned. It was sweet.

  “Some people are hung up on the family thing.” He spoke gently, frowning as he picked
up a pebble and turned it over in his fingertips. “Maybe your mom is one of them. Me, I don’t buy it. Never have. That cozy, close-knit thing is an illusion.”

  “Geez, Uncle Riley! Shatter my innocence, why don’t you?”

  She grinned at him. He tousled her hair, and grinned back.

  That was one of the things Alexis liked about Uncle Riley. She could talk to him about anything, and he didn’t deliver some school-citizenship-style homily about being all she could be, saying “no” to drugs, and brushing her teeth three times a day. He treated her like a Cosmo-reading, shop-surfing, brain-enabled person…not a child.

  Still, his views on relationships were majorly depressing.

  “I think you need to come out of the wilderness more often,” she said. “You know, try a date once in a while. Loosen up. Loose the negative aura.”

  He pretended to growl at her. She laughed.

  “Seriously. It’s like Jayne says in her book, if you’re surrounded by negative triggers that keep you stuck in your—”

  Uncle Riley held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear about that book.”

  “It’s good!”

  “It’s a bunch of hooey.” Suddenly, he lowered his eyebrows and pinned her with a you’re busted look. “And what are you doing reading it?”

  “Jayne gave me a copy.” Alexis shrugged off her backpack and pulled out the hardbound Heartbreak 101. “I brought it out here to show you the fabulous inscription.”

  She held the book toward her uncle. He shook his head.

  “Go on,” she urged. “I want you to see it.”

  He looked about as willing to touch Jayne’s book as Brendan had been to hold Alexis’ hand when the rest of the eighth grade basketball team was around. That was all the more reason, she figured, for her to urge it on him. She held it closer.

  Reluctantly, Uncle Riley dropped his pebble. He accepted the book.

  “The inscription is on the title page.”

  Paper rustled. A bird called nearby. The breeze blew Alexis’ hair in her eyes, making her nearly miss the moment when her uncle read what Jayne had written.

  To Alexis, a diva-in-training: May you never know heartbreak of your own…or the heartbreak of missing a fifty-percent-off shoe sale. If you look good, you feel good! Hugs, Jayne Murphy.