Melanie grimaced, then threw up her hands and laughed, a bright musical sound that turned a dozen heads at the nearer tables who were trying not to stare at the supermodel suddenly in their midst.
“Yes. Maybe. Carlo is very nice, but he has…limitations.”
“Perhaps he is good for fun, but not worth keeping long term.” Cassidy made it a statement of perfect understanding.
Perrin leaned over and kissed her on the shoulder in thanks for making Melanie welcome.
“Yes. I should like to attend opening night, Carlo tells me such wonderful things about the music and the staging and the costumes,” she rested one of her elegant hands over Perrin’s.
Perrin envied her those hands. Melanie’s first jobs had been as a hand model, and they were still one of the best features on the beautiful woman.
“And I am not mercenary, he is charming and fun. But maybe when the curtain comes down on the opera, perhaps so it does on Carlo and Melanie.”
They stopped to order drinks and appetizers. Perrin ordered one of her usual Cosmos. Melanie tasted the white wine Cassidy had ordered for the table and, after a soft “oh my” of appreciation, she asked for an empty glass and cheerfully accepted Perrin’s judgment of “wimp.” Crab cakes, shrimp cocktail, and a big bowl of steamers would get them started. The waitress left behind a plate of Cutter’s focaccia bread gloriously drowned in rosemary, garlic, and olive oil.
“So…” Melanie turned to Perrin, clearly not wholly comfortable with being the center of attention, “In love and not enough sex… Was I right about Bill Cullen? He does like you?”
“He told me…” Perrin looked around the table. Well, if Melanie didn’t want to be at the center of attention having just joined them for the first time, Perrin knew exactly how to shift the conversation for a good long while. “Bill told me that he loves me.”
There were understanding nods around the table. Some softening of looks, but it was something most men said too easily and they all knew that.
“And I believe him.”
That knocked back everyone around the table.
Mama Maria reached a hand right across Melanie’s lap to grab Perrin’s hand.
Perrin took a deep breath to steady herself then met Maria’s gaze. They didn’t need words. For five long heartbeats they held hands and looked at each other. For five poundings of blood in Perrin’s ears, emotions flowed across Maria’s face as they must have across her own. Fear and hope, relief and amazement, truth and acceptance, and finally approval. That was all it took. Then Maria’s face lit with a smile that could brighten the whole world. With a quick squeeze, she sat back and apologized to Melanie.
Maria placed her hand briefly to her throat, where the gold chain that Perrin had given for her wedding rested every day, often Maria’s only jewelry aside from Hogan’s wedding band. It had been a gift from the heart and a bond between them. Perrin had to fight hard to keep the tears inside where they belonged at Maria’s ultimate sign of hope for a marriage and a future.
The others were still gearing up to question her all about being in love and why she believed him. Perrin wasn’t sure if she was up for that, so she went for a much safer topic. She leaned in close and all the others leaned in as well, including Melanie. She glanced around to meet each of their gazes before whispering her subject change.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get some decent sex with a single dad? You wouldn’t believe how creative we’ve had to be.”
Mama Maria laughed. Of course she’d know what Perrin was doing, but the others all fell for the trap and wanted to know just how creative.
# # #
The problem, Perrin had to admit that night as she crawled into bed alone and watched the ceiling spin slowly, was that even being creative had achieved so little.
She and Bill had found that their best opportunity to see each other at all was having lunch together. On days when he was too busy to even leave the office, she’d at least arrive with sandwiches to share at his desk among the prop layout plans. She’d never thought about the problems of a scepter being carried off one side of the stage, then needed at the head of a staircase on the opposite side two scenes later.
When she could coax him out of the office, they lunched in her apartment. Okay, they had fantastic sex on her bed, her couch, the floor, the kitchen—more than once they hadn’t made it past leaning against the closed front door—followed by him bolting down a sandwich on the ten-block drive back to the office.
They had tried finding a moment at the Opera offices, but with the pending production the staff was increasing and there wasn’t even a quiet corner. The Opera normally employed a hundred people full-time. But for a new build of a major new opera, there were over four hundred people underfoot everywhere they went.
Then the ballet that had been in residence at the Seattle Opera House after the production of Turandot had closed and cleared out. Emerald City Opera descended on the Opera House like a hammer blow. In twenty-four hours the main electrical, pressurized air, and propane systems had been in place. There were parts of the set that would appear to burn during the dramatic second act, giving the Tragic Prince physical scars to match the psychological ones.
Forty-eight more hours and the set was in place. Impossibly, hundreds of pieces of scenery were delivered and assembled. Two trucks constantly worked the loading dock, disgorging great loads from the scene construction shop, that were then rapidly assembled. Another truck was actually parked on an elevator a story below that then delivered it directly to the stage right wing.
The crews who had been setting up in the Emerald City Opera’s offices were also preparing for the move across town. The lowest floor of the offices was normally props storage. One end had been taken over by an eight-person props team. They’d even backed up a semi-truck trailer to a loading door which contained a full machine shop where they made anything they didn’t already have: swords, lanterns, armor, fake foodstuffs for the grand banquet, including the tables and tablecloths. It was amazing to watch.
The other end of the ground floor was taken by fifteen electricians servicing and calibrating the lighting instruments. Massive coils of cable were stacked on pallets or dumped into bright yellow rolling hampers. Light poles and triangular steel trusses made up of those funny zig-zag metal pipes were loaded onto semi-trailers for the fast approaching move-in day.
This world was a mystery to Perrin. It was also the only place she ran into Jaspar during the whole week. But he looked to be very busy learning how to wire a connector properly, so she didn’t disturb him.
On the second floor, the costume department was really humming. The chorus had started coming through for fittings. A dozen seamstresses were fitting pre-made pieces to measurements cards. And altering the many costumes that didn’t work out quite right. A man they planned to use as a village cartman had recently joined a gym and his shoulders no longer matched his card nor fit his intended uniform. A woman was four months pregnant, still able to sing, but her form-fitting gown had to be switched with someone else’s less revealing attire.
In the middle of the floor, a temporary makeup department had been set up. There, Mika worked with five other specialists to turn the photographs of the designs he and Perrin had developed into face cards for every single character: base powder Ben Nye BV71, Sandy Rose CR3 cheek rouge, auburn eye pencil blended with… The list went on to define the lip outline which emphasized them at a distance, degree of blending or highlights, aging lines on backs of hands and neck, wigs, prosthetics like latex scars, stage blood to be coordinated with costuming as they’d be laundering it out of the costume after every performance.
A couple of the major roles, the Prince, Princess, and the True Love had several face cards. For Carlo as the Prince sometimes he had a makeup call between two scenes as his look evolved: hope to scars to loss of hope to premature age to destitution and ult
imate failure as he dies in the arms of the Princess who loves him. His final aria ending with a demented cry for his murdered True Love.
“So Bill,” Perrin asked after they’d stolen a kiss in the office’s central freight elevator, “Is it always going to be this difficult for us to have sex?”
“Make love?” He’d brushed a hand down her body that electrified every single nerve ending.
“Oh man. You have to cut that out.”
“Cut out this?” he kissed her fiercely for two seconds while groping her wildly. “Or stop telling you that I love you?”
Perrin made sure that her clothes were straight by the time the elevator stopped even if her pulse was thoroughly chaotic.
“Okay,” she struggled for a breath then nodded for him to open the heavy steel gates that split horizontally across the middle to raise and lower. Just as he put his hands on the heavy strap to start them moving, she rubbed her palm downward over the front of his pants then whispered in his ear.
“Don’t stop doing either one.” She shoved the door down so that it clanged open and walked out onto the main office floor, leaving Bill to trail somewhere far behind.
Chapter 16
“Today’s a dark day,” Tammy informed Perrin as she slipped into the back seat of Bill’s car. Jasp was being a total pill. Sure it was his turn up front, but he hadn’t even offered to move back for Perrin. Perrin had shrugged it off before Dad could dig in.
“What’s a ‘dark’ day?” Perrin had on a nice blouse of pale blue, so plain it was almost a shock. But Tammy was learning. She could see just how well made it was and how perfectly it fit, not clinging, but not loose and sloppy like some generic store thing. It didn’t have to be wild like their red dresses to be amazing. That’s what she wanted to do, make clothes that made her look that nice. Even Perrin’s jeans fit way better than Tammy’s despite how long she’d spent poking around the mall’s racks to find a pair that fit just right.
“Dark day means the stage is unlit. Everybody gets a day off. So today’s pretty much the last time we’re gonna see Dad even close to sane for the two weeks until opening night.”
“At least you get to see me at rehearsals,” he called back as he pulled into traffic.
“Yeah, that’s righteous,” Tammy replied. It was Jasp’s latest word, though it tended to make Dad snort with laughter when they used it. She wondered if Jasp had figured it wrong. “If you think he’s been busy these last couple weeks, just wait. It’s cra—”
“That’s what I wanna do,” Jaspar cut her off. It wasn’t his normal kind of cut-off.
Something was wrong and she didn’t know what it was. And it wasn’t just today. With Jasp she always knew, but not this time.
“I’m gonna do what Dad does. I’m gonna know all about electricity and machine tools and none of that costume crap.”
Dad glanced up into the mirror in apology to Perrin, and Tammy could see the look. When had she grown tall enough to see his eyes in the rearview? Very righteous.
But Jasp missed it. He usually caught onto adult stuff faster than she did. Tammy had found she had to figure out things that Jaspar saw right away and blurted out. He was a just a stupid boy in a lot of ways, but he was “people smart.”
She hated when he descended into one of his troll moods. It reminded her too much of when Mom died. That had been bad for all of them, Jasp had refused to believe her for weeks that Mom was never coming home again. And Dad had been mostly out of it. She’d learned to anticipate and defuse the troll, but she always knew why Jasp was doing it. Tammy couldn’t see this one yet. She’d have to get him aside later.
“I have to worry about the ‘costume crap’ too,” Dad tromped down on him. “Though between Perrin and Jerimy I have to worry less than usual.” He looked at Perrin again in the rearview mirror.
Wow! Did Dad have any idea how much he was showing how he felt about Perrin? They were way past fourth kiss. She was losing track of everything. When had that happened?
Jasp just hunched down in the front seat and glared out the window.
# # #
Perrin noted that Russell actually looked pleased rather than amused when Jaspar declared his boat, the Lady Amalthea, as “righteous.”
“I named her for a unicorn who turned briefly into a princess but decided she was better off as a unicorn.”
“Smart lady!” Jaspar declared.
While the guys were bonding over the boat, Perrin climbed aboard and gave Tammy a hand to steady her. It was a beautiful Saturday morning and there were a lot of boats headed out from the Shilshole Marina. There was a fresh wind, which meant good sailing, but the weather was warm enough she’d probably only need a light windbreaker once they were under way.
Perrin had always liked the boat, she was like her owner in so many ways. She was just as pretty as Russell was handsome, but she was rough around the edges too. The two of them matched. Russell had spent a year refinishing the 1940s sloop, Russell had taught her that meant one mast not all the way at the very front. But for all her fine finish, she was narrow inside.
“It’s called a Pullman style cabin,” Russell told the kids on the guided tour before they left dock. They’d all climbed together down the narrow ladder until they were standing well below the waterline. “Like those railroad cars in the old movies where you sleep down one side and walk down the other.”
On one side of the off-center aisle down below was a galley, a table for seating four people that could turn into a narrow bed for two, a tiny bathroom that he gave them detailed instructions on how to use, and the boat ended in a double-bed up forward.
Perrin had dug out some good stories about what a motivated girl could do on that particular bed. They shared a look that made Cassidy blush, even if she was smiling brightly. Perrin kissed her on the cheek to make up for it and received a hug in return.
On the other side of the aisle was a narrow bench, long enough to sleep on if you stuck your feet into the space behind the ladder. Russell called it a pilot’s berth. “Because it’s closest to where the pilot needs to rush in case of an emergency,” he pointed at the ladderway back to the cockpit. A tiny wood stove, an awkward bench and a tiny closet completed the way forward.
Cassidy had raided the restaurant to create a massive basket lunch. Nutcase, Bill’s small black cat, was the only other passenger, almost as rough-mannered as her owner, but also sweet to the core. The kids both took to her right away.
Russell lost a lot of ground when he insisted that the two kids had to wear life vests, but made up for it by producing small racing vests that didn’t inflate until they were submerged, rather than the big, poofy orange things.
Russell recruited Jaspar and Bill to help him get the boat away from the dock, though Perrin had seen him do it single-handed any number of times when Cassidy was too busy to help. Perrin preferred just being a passenger.
“It’s nice to let myself be taken care of sometimes,” Cassidy leaned back, seated her sunglasses firmly and smiled up at the warm mid-morning sun. “Nothing better than a spring day in early May.”
Perrin made sure that she and Tamara were slathered in sunscreen and both wearing floppy hats, their fair complexions would crisp out on the bright water. She’d only been fooled once. The air felt so fresh and cool when you were gliding over the water. She’d burned red as a lobster on her first trip and had to finish the outing lying on a cool bunk below, being tossed about at the mercy of the waves.
The three of them sat in the cockpit and let the world go by.
Perrin talked about some of the new designs she was working on, including Melanie’s dress. Tammy tried so hard to pretend that she could still breathe normally after Perrin told her she’d get to help on the whole dress. Perrin had to hug her so that she wouldn’t hyperventilate.
Cass understood perfectly and began teasing Tamara about being careful not to
become too famous or Cassidy would have to chase her off, because nobody was allowed to compete with Perrin. It forced Tammy to laugh, breathe, and think of something else. Meanwhile the boys coiled lines and unwrapped sails. In moments they were headed out.
Her favorite moment was after the sails were up, but not yet drawing wind. Russell would nudge the tiller aside with his knee, lean down to kill the engine, then wink at his wife as it spluttered to silence. He did it every time. A shared memory Cass had never explained and Perrin didn’t want to intrude on. Sort of like the moment she and the kids had torn up those awful paintings. That memory was theirs, not for others.
The boat dug in, suddenly at the wind’s call, there was a visceral surge that echoed deep in her body. It was a place of peace, a perfect moment.
Bill dropped down beside her and slid an arm around her waist just as Perrin realized quite how alike this moment was to when she was lying in Bill’s arms. Quiet, peaceful, powerful. Centered.
She leaned against him and closed her eyes, letting the motion of the boat just take her where it wanted to go. As long as Bill’s arms were around her, she knew she’d be safe.
# # #
Tammy saw her chance after lunch.
Jasp had been sticking close by Mr. Morgan, learning all about sailing. He’d obviously geeked out when Mr. Morgan taught him how to steer. She couldn’t quite bring herself to call him Russell, even if she felt fine with Cassidy. He was nice enough, but he was so big and imposing and so…male. At last she supposed that’s what it was, but whatever, she stuck with using Mr. Morgan.
Tammy wouldn’t have minded learning to sail too, but talking with Cassidy and Perrin like grownups, and watching her dad with Perrin was occupying her mind.
She wondered how Perrin would answer the question now about whether she was trying to marry their dad. There was no way to get her alone to ask. She and Dad were suddenly attached at the hip.
Where Dreams Unfold Page 18
