Before, she’d let Jonna get to her. But now, she realized Jonna could do nothing to her that hadn’t already happened. Yes, she and Peyton had been wrong. But that was past. Firmly in the past. Thank You, God, for holding my future, even when I can’t see it.
Sunday supper at his parents’ house. Tom found the scene idyllic, with all of them around the table. All of them and Kelly. She filled a good spot, joking with Hunter and Hailey, chatting about Europe with Bella. Of course Angela liked her. The two were already making plans to go shopping at the outlets in Fall River one day.
“So you’re almost finished with the quilt, then?” his mother asked Kelly as they were clearing the table for a rousing game of dominoes.
“Almost.” Kelly’s glance bounced off him.
“What are you going to do after that?”
“I’m not sure yet. Mr. Plummer, that’s the CEO, had mentioned once about some other projects in the house that need some conservation, but I haven’t heard anything more.” She stacked a few of the dirty plates.
“Oh, hon, don’t worry about the plates and such. We’ll take care of them.” Tom’s mother took the plates from Kelly’s hands. “Well, I sure hope you’ll find a way to stay around here.”
Tom had a flashback to the first time she’d come to supper after his seizure. “I’m sure she’ll go where she has work.”
“I’d . . . I’d like to stay in the area, if it works out,” Kelly said. “It’s really grown on me.”
“Well, we hope you stay. Don’t we, Tom?”
“Of course we do.”
Kelly giggled at his discomfort. Funny, she thought it was amusing when he was in the hot seat.
“You’re famous now, Uncle Tom,” said Hunter. “You had your picture in the paper.”
“Not quite famous,” Tom said, tousling Hunter’s mop of hair. Thank goodness somebody changed the subject. “One day I’m sure you’ll get your picture in the paper, too.”
“Then I’ll be famous.” Hunter pointed at his chest.
“You are a little famous,” said Kelly. “Didn’t you tell me you’ve had several calls for work since the article ran? Plus someone with the Wounded Warrior Transition program wants you to speak to a veterans’ group about your story?”
“Really?” His father looked up from the Sunday paper. “That’s good. That’s very good.”
“Kelly’s right.” Tom nodded. “I told them I don’t mind sharing my story with them. I don’t know how it’ll help, but I figured, why not? If what I’ve been through can help someone, I should give it a try.” Talk about being in the hot seat. But Kelly beamed at him, the same look of pride he saw with his mother.
“We’re proud of you, Son,” his father said.
“Thanks, Pop.” Today he wasn’t expecting to get choked up. All this was supposed to be was a simple family dinner after Sunday church service. He’d invited Kelly to his church, which she liked better than the other she’d been visiting since living in New Bedford. Part of him wanted to believe it was because of him.
But now was one of “those” moments when you looked back at it, and you knew everything had changed. He wanted Kelly to be part of his life. The idea of her leaving . . . Yet she said she was open to staying.
Her phone rang, and she glanced at it. “Excuse me. Sorry about that.” She left the dining room and went to the living room. He didn’t miss the frown that clouded her face.
“She’s the proverbial keeper, Tom.” His mother beamed. “You definitely have our blessing.”
“Ma, it’s a little early for that.” He tried not to sputter. “Hold your proverbial horses.”
“I’m just telling you.”
“Honey, let the man breathe,” his pop spoke up from the end of the table.
Kelly reentered the dining room. “I’m not feeling very well. Do you mind taking me back to the house?”
“Of course not,” Tom began.
“You’re welcome to lie down here in our spare room,” said Mom. “The thought of you in that big old house by yourself. Maybe you’ll feel better a little later.”
“Well, I don’t know.”
Tom stepped closer to her. “What’s wrong?” She wasn’t telling him something. Her face had a walled-in expression.
She glanced at his mother. “Thanks, maybe I just need to lie down for a while.”
“This heat wave plus the humidity can’t be good for anybody,” Mom said. “Is there air conditioning in that big old place?”
“I have a window unit for my room, plus another portable one for the ballroom.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She shook her head. “Tom, get her a fresh blanket and a pillow for the guest room.”
“I don’t think she’ll need a blanket.”
Kelly laid her hand on his arm. “That’s fine.”
He led her from the dining room. “C’mon, I’ll show you where the guest room is.” She followed him upstairs, stairs he’d pounded up and down countless times. The stairs gave their familiar creak.
“So,” he said as he opened the door of the linen closet, “here’s a blanket. It might be ninety degrees out, but Mom wants you to feel cozy.”
“Thanks.”
He took her to the second room on the right, past Bella’s door. Giggles came from inside the room. He thought about telling Bella to keep it down, but then, she’d said something about heading out with some friends soon.
“And here’s the guest room.” Tom flung open the door. “It used to be mine.”
“Ah, okay.” She entered ahead of him and put the blanket on the bed. He held a pillow out to her, which she accepted.
“Kelly, what’s wrong?” He put his hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t feel like talking about it right now.” She shrugged, then frowned. “I’ll . . . I’ll tell you. I promise. I just need a few minutes. Please.”
“Okay.” He pulled her into his arms and she leaned against him. “Take some time. We’ll be downstairs. I’ll be here.”
“Thanks.”
Peyton Greaves had called. She knew the number, although she’d deleted it from her phone. Months and months had gone by. Seeing the number made her stomach quiver. She knew enough if she didn’t answer his call right there in the Pereiras’ living room, he’d keep calling. The man had the gift of persistence. He’d used it successfully on her numerous times in the past.
He missed her, he said. He found out about the article and thought it was great. She kept her composure, but her hands shook when she pushed the end button on her phone.
Her first inclination was to run, hide, barricade herself literally and figuratively in the big old house. No, she wasn’t about to go back to him. She wasn’t about to now.
For now, though, she’d give herself some space in the comfort of Tom’s old bedroom, now the official guest room for the Pereira family. She found herself searching the walls for some photo of Tom or a memento of his childhood. Nothing.
Kelly sank onto the twin bed tucked under a lone window. She could take a few minutes, then pull herself together and rejoin them.
She placed the pillow at the head of the bed, then kicked off her shoes. A rest couldn’t hurt anything. Or call it a timeout. Kelly lay back onto the bedspread and studied the ceiling.
Today, the old man was sitting up in bed and wearing a jacket that would make Hugh Hefner turn green as Kermit the frog.
“I’m not going to offer you my opinion anymore,” he told the old man. “You’re just going to do what you want to do anyway.”
“Of course I am.”
He hadn’t seen the old man this spry in forever. “You’re not thinking clearly. I should call your doctor and see about upping or adjusting your medication.”
“Keep talking like that and I’ll fire you.”
“You can’t let me go.” He tried not to sound panicked, but there it was, the tone in his voice that sure enough probably let the old man know he had him cornered.
“You’re fired. Leav
e now before I get security involved.” The old man glared at him. “I’m not joking.”
“You’re making a big mistake. Just watch and see.”
“Is that a threat?”
He stopped in the doorway just before he left. “I’m not joking, either.”
16
March 1853
Hiram is setting sail once more. I sent word to Esteban through his sister, the seamstress, who helped me begin the quilt. I tell him that I am ready to work on his reading lessons once again. Esteban does not come to our customary spot. My desolation gives me a physical ache. I decided to disguise myself and take a cab to his section of town. There is Esteban, walking the cobblestoned streets with a dark-haired beauty. I find his mother’s house and she turns me away, screaming at me in Portuguese. I know enough to discern that I have lost my little Peter forever.
Unbelievable. Kelly could scarcely breathe as she read the section of diary. Betrayed again, poor Mary. She shook her head. All of Mary’s plans and dreams had crumbled, although she had relief with Hiram heading to sea again.
Little Peter, never knowing his true mother. Did Esteban ever take him aside as he grew older and tell him of his parentage? With every new element of Mary’s story coming to light, yet another question arose as well.
Maybe some questions were meant to stay unanswered.
She reminded herself of the lovely evening she knew lay ahead. She and Tom were going to have supper together. He had brought a grill to Gray House, and she had steaks marinating in the fridge downstairs. He promised her jazz with supper, and she promised she would make dessert. Out of a box, but it was still chocolate mousse.
She wasn’t sure if she ought to dress up or anything, but thought comfort would be the best way to go. Not her usual work attire, but a cotton peasant blouse with fresh capris would be fine. Tonight promised a full moon, too.
Lord, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.
The phone had remained silent as far as Peyton was concerned, too.
At last, the shadows were long and the sun was headed toward the western horizon. Kelly was rummaging in the refrigerator when a knock sounded at the back door.
She flung the door open. “Tom.”
He stood there, grinning, and her heartbeat ramped up just a little. “The grill’s lit, should be ready for steaks soon.”
“Good. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“Me too.”
She managed to shove her worries aside for the next two hours, and told Tom so. “I have a hard time enjoying myself when things go right,” she admitted as they watched the last red glow in the west disappear.
“Why’s that?” he asked. They sat on the porch steps, leaning comfortably on each other.
“I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. That good times never last. And I don’t like feeling that way. It’s not like I’m expecting life to go my way all the time. I know that’s impossible. But it’s hard to enjoy myself when things do go right.” The admission almost sounded foolish, now that she said it aloud.
“I understand what you mean.” A soft breeze gave relief from the heat of the day.
“I’m glad you do.”
“Hey, I want to show you something.” He reached for her hand, then stood, pulling her to her feet. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it has.”
Now that the moon had made its appearance, it gave a glow to the cobblestones that wound through the property. Kelly didn’t need to worry about her footing, not when she was floating beside Tom, his hand holding hers.
“It’s the heirloom rosebush,” Tom announced as they reached a remote corner of the garden. “I’ve been working on it all summer, trying to get it to take hold. And now look.”
Kelly stepped closer to the little plant, barely two feet tall. A single bud bloomed on the uppermost branch. “Oh, wow.”
“I was told this came from an original cutting over one hundred years ago.”
She leaned closer to smell it. Not much, maybe a whiff of rose. But it was something.
“Kelly.”
She straightened and faced Tom.
It was the most natural thing in the world to surrender to the circle of his arms and let him kiss her, not like the quick kiss at the harbor. She could stay like this and skip the dessert that they hadn’t eaten yet.
The kiss ended, a little soon for her liking, but it was probably a good idea that it did. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, galloping away just like hers was.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said.
“I’m glad you did.” He worked out, and she could tell.
Then she blinked at the annoying glare of headlights. Who in the world? There had better be a good reason for someone to show up at the house, this time of night. She pulled away from Tom and stared across the lawn at the vehicle.
The headlights dimmed and a car door opened. “Kelly, is that you over there?”
She squinted toward the figure. Her spine stiffened. No way. Not here.
“Peyton?”
“I came to see you, in person, because I had to.”
“No, you didn’t.” She started marching along the cobble-stones in Peyton’s direction.
“Kelly, what’s this all about?” Tom asked as he walked beside her.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” She stopped a few feet from Peyton’s car. He’d driven two hours to see her, straight from the office it looked like, judging by his loosened tie.
“I had to see you,” Peyton repeated. “These last six months have been torture for me.”
“Peyton, you have a wife, if you’ve forgotten. You definitely forgot to mention her to me.” She couldn’t bear to look at Tom, now that their perfect evening was in ruins.
“Not for long. She kicked me out in April. I’ve . . . I got my own place now. The divorce . . .” Peyton sighed and leaned against his car. “The divorce will be final tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry that happened,” Kelly said. She was sorry, for sure. “I’m sorry for my part in that.” Even worse, she was sorry Tom was witnessing this, firsthand. What he must think of her now . . .
“But don’t you see? I’m free now.”
“Excuse me for interrupting, but you’ve upset Kelly. I think you need to leave.” Tom stepped forward.
“I’ll do no such thing.” Peyton stepped forward as well. “Kelly and I have a relationship that goes back farther than anything she thinks she has here with you.”
“Stop it.” Kelly moved closer to Peyton. “We’re over. We were over in January. In case you forgot, it affected my career. You think I’m going to get another contract with anyone attached to the BFA? Especially anyone who knows your wife, or ex-wife?”
“That’s getting to be old news. I knew it would, eventually.”
Kelly shook her head. “How can you say that? It’s hounded me for months. I’m thankful this job turned up for me here.”
“New job, new boyfriend, is that what it is?” Peyton shot a glare at Tom. “I’ll tell you this. I taught her most of what she knows.”
“How dare you—” Kelly marched up to Peyton. He yanked her to him and started kissing her.
All the memories came rushing back, and her mind went numb. For a few seconds, she almost wanted Peyton back again.
Tom.
She jerked away from Peyton, bumping into Tom as she did so.
Tom shoved Peyton onto the hood of the car, then stopped. “Leave now. Don’t you ever come back. If I see you on this property again, I’m calling the police. Don’t call her, either.”
Peyton glanced from her to Tom, then back at her again. “Fine. If you thought you had a hard time getting work now, you don’t want to see what it’ll be like from now on.”
He left, tires shrieking on the pavement.
Kelly’s hands shook, too. The woman caught in adultery, who the Pharisees flung before Jesus, demanding judgment? Yep, she knew the feeling.
No matter that the guy was now heading back to Boston. She couldn’t even look at Tom.
“The guy was married?” he asked, breathing hard.
“Yes. He . . . he never told me. I found out the hard way. Then I broke up with him. Someone found out about us, and it was a big mess.” She wanted to explain that she wasn’t that woman anymore, but couldn’t find the words. And after what Peyton said about her . . .
“I think I’m going home now.” Tom’s voice was flat.
“Tom, can I explain?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. But not right now.” He took a few steps away from her and toward his motorcycle. “Good night.”
She wanted to beg him to stay, to listen. He’d stuck up for her. But then, Tom Pereira was that kind of man. God, please, how long must I keep paying for my sins of the past?
What was the old saying about a sucker being born every minute?
Tom sat up that night, insomnia his old friend back again. He typed the name Peyton and Boston Fine Arts Museum into the Internet search engine. Up popped plenty of links. Old photos.
The guy was some bigwig administrator, director of gallery programs. There were a few photos of him with Kelly and a few others. Kelly, in a magnificent little black dress. No wonder Peyton had fallen for her. She looked exquisite with the contrast made by her creamy skin, light blue eyes, and silken hair.
He’d fallen for that, too, with no little black dress involved.
Reading between the lines, he saw Kelly’s close relationship with the museum and then with Peyton. Hidden in plain sight, their relationship was risky. How could Kelly not have known? That was a stretch for Tom. Either she’d been super naïve or willfully ignored Peyton’s marital state.
Tom had been ready to plaster the guy against the car and then some. He’d made Kelly out to be some kind of tawdry woman under his tutelage. It cheapened the sweet yet passionate kiss they’d shared in the garden mere moments before Peyton roared onto the scene.
The anger that roared up inside frightened him, and now a headache made him feel as if a giant’s vise were tightening around his head. Not good.
Tempest's Course: Quilts of Love Series Page 14
