“I hate it when you do that.” She propped her chin on Catherine’s shoulder. “I don’t want to feel better. Not yet, anyway.”
Catherine closed her eyes against the overwhelming feeling of relief that washed over her. “I know. But it’s bound to happen sooner or later, so it might as well be now. You don’t want to mess up your night out with Brian worrying about something neither one of us can change.”
“There’s no way we can keep the house?”
Catherine shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” She adjusted her towel. “I better get ready. Brian’s always early.”
“Where are you going?”
“His house. It’s his brother’s birthday.”
“You didn’t tell me. Did you get him a present?”
“Brian took care of it.” She was halfway through the door when she stopped and turned back. “You went to Rick’s house, didn’t you?”
The question took Catherine off guard. “What makes you think that?”
“The dog thing. You want one because you saw Blue.”
“I was there the night we came up to see you,” she said.
“And?”
“And what?”
“What did you think?”
“Blue’s a terrific dog. Everything you said he was. I’d take him in a minute, but I don’t think we could get Rick or his neighbor to give him to us.”
“Not Blue. What did you think about the house?”
“I loved it.” That didn’t begin to describe her feelings. Rick’s house was a home, the very thing she’d tried so hard to make for her and Lynda.
“Do you think we could rent one like that?”
“I don’t think there is another house like Rick’s.” And if there were, it would be out of their price range. No one in their right mind would trust that kind of craftsmanship to a renter.
The doorbell rang. “That can’t be Brian,” Lynda said, clearly believing it was. She flew to the window. “Oh, my God. It is.” She sent Catherine a pleading look. “Tell him I’m almost ready.” She ran down the hall to her bedroom. “Fifteen minutes. No, make that ten.”
Catherine opened the door with a flourish and a broad smile. The smile faded when she saw the look on Brian’s face. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”
He came in and stood in the foyer. “Where’s Lynda?” he asked softly.
“Upstairs getting ready. We were talking and lost track of time.”
He shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Ray’s in the hospital. I tried calling him before I came over and his aunt said he has some kind of kidney infection. I asked for the number at the hospital and she said he was out of it most of the time and couldn’t talk.” He glanced up the stairs toward Lynda’s room. “I don’t know how much I should tell her. She was so upset about not being here when Ray left, I’m afraid she’ll freak if she finds out he’s sick.”
“How bad is it?”
Brian shrugged. “All I know for sure is that he’s bad enough to be in the hospital. I don’t think his aunt would put him there unless it was serious.”
“She probably didn’t have a choice. It’s my understanding that kidney problems are fairly common with burn patients. Lynda was checked constantly when she was in the hospital.”
“But shouldn’t Ray be past that kind of thing by now?”
He wanted reassurance that she couldn’t give him. “I don’t know. His burns were so much worse than Lynda’s.”
“Should I tell her?”
To ask him to wait would make his burden heavier, but Lynda had already been given enough to deal with. “Can you wait a couple of days? She could use a breather.”
“Sure.”
She was touched by his easy acceptance. Her incredible, beautiful, thoughtful daughter deserved someone like Brian, just as he deserved someone as wonderful as Lynda. She was so glad they had found each other.
“Lynda’s going to be a few more minutes. Would you like something to drink?”
“You have any lemonade?”
“Coming up.”
He followed her into the kitchen and stood at the window where she’d hung the hummingbird feeder. “You get any birds yet?”
“A couple. I haven’t been home to watch for them lately.” She no sooner had the words out than an Anna’s hummingbird swooped in to land at the feeder.
“I bought a feeder for my mom, too. The hummingbirds found hers right away. Now she’s going to get one for up at the lake. Dad said she’ll have them hanging everywhere in a couple of months.”
Catherine handed Brian his lemonade. “Rick tells me you’re thinking about becoming a firefighter.”
“Me and ten thousand other guys.” He sounded discouraged. “And ten thousand women, too.”
“I’m sure if you’re still interested after you finish college, you won’t have any trouble getting a job.”
He gave her a disbelieving look. “Rick must not have told you how hard it is to get into his department—or any fire department. In the bigger cities there are hundreds of applicants for every job opening.”
“Why?” The question was automatic—and insulting. She’d done the same thing to Rick. Would she never learn? “I’m sorry, Brian. I just don’t understand the allure, and I’m afraid your parents won’t, either. Why would you want to do something that hard and dangerous when it pays so little?”
“Because it matters. How many people can say that about what they do?”
The words were an echo of Rick’s, but she innately knew they were Brian’s. She should have known. Take away the years and circumstances and Rick and Brian were as alike as leaves from the same tree.
“I’m ready,” Lynda called, bounding down the stairs. She beamed when she saw Brian and turned in a circle, her long, flowered skirt swirling sensuously around her legs. With her hand on top of her head to hold on a hat with a turned-up brim and matching flowers, she did a quick curtsy and asked, “How do I look?”
“Awesome,” Brian said appreciatively. “Wait until my brother sees you in that dress.”
Lynda grinned and looked at Catherine. “Jimmy has a little crush on me.”
“‘Little,’ hell. It’s more the size of a boulder,” Brian said. “One he’d hit me over the head with if he thought he could get away with it.”
Jimmy was the youngest of the Winslow boys, ten years old and running hard to try to catch up. “Sounds a little like your father when he was that age,” Catherine said.
“That’s what Mom tells him.” Brian took Lynda’s hand and turned to Catherine, a sudden thought sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, you want to come tonight? It’s nothing formal, just a barbecue in the backyard.”
Catherine smiled. “Thanks, but I have some things I have to get done around here. Closets to clean, that kind of thing. We’re having an open house next weekend.”
“Open house? Isn’t that what you do when you’re—”
Lynda tugged him toward the front door. “I’ll tell you about it in the car.”
Catherine walked them out and waved good-bye. It was a perfect night for a barbecue, hot but not suffocating. The mosquitoes would be out, but not in numbers so great that they couldn’t be controlled with citronella candles and a little yard spray.
Now that she was alone again, her plans for the evening seemed as empty as she felt. Without the distractions she’d used to keep from thinking about Rick, she had to deal with what had happened between them.
She wasn’t ready for another relationship. At least not a serious one. How could she be, when she was struggling to learn how to stand by herself for the first time in her life. Rick wanted more than she had to give. She couldn’t love someone casually. Loving required commitment. A commitment she owed to Lynda.
Lynda came first. She had to. And while Catherine was prepared to let Rick walk out of her life, she couldn’t let him walk out of Lynda’s.
Before she could find a reason to change her mind, she went back i
nside and dialed the number at Rick’s fire station. Her stomach did a quick roll with every ring.
She was about to hang up when he answered. “Captain Sawyer.”
“Rick, it’s Catherine.”
There was a long pause. “Great minds, I guess. I was going to call you later.”
“Is this a bad time?” She was acutely aware that he could be called away at any moment, and she always felt the need to talk fast.
“We just got back from a fire and I don’t like to leave all the cleanup to the crew, but I have a few minutes before they miss me.”
“Was it bad?”
“Garage. The people lost their Mercedes but we got the dog out, so the kids were happy. You didn’t call to hear this, Catherine.”
She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “It’s Lynda. I’m sorry for asking. I know how hard it would be for you to keep seeing her, but is there a way you could—”
“I’m not going to find her another mentor, Catherine. What I said was a knee-jerk reaction, and I’ve felt like an ass ever since for letting it happen.” He paused. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”
There were a hundred things she could say, things she should say. The one she chose was the one from her heart. “Don’t give up on me. Not yet, anyway. I have a long way to go, but I’m trying hard.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Catherine. When you’re ready, you know where you can find me.”
There wasn’t anything else to say. She told him good-bye, replaced the receiver, and took out the bottle of Randle’s Roost Rick had given her for her birthday. She poured herself a glass and went out on the deck. The sun set slowly that evening, painting the sky with a liquid fire that dripped onto the horizon.
Somewhere in the city, a man she didn’t understand sat and waited for the call that told him someone needed him. He would answer the call regardless of its tedium or danger, do what he could to help, and then slip away to wait for the next summons. For the people who thought to offer thanks after their rush of adrenaline had settled, it would be too late. If they tried the next day, their rescuers would be gone, replaced by others of their kind on another shift.
She’d come to understand that firefighters were silent heroes in an age of role models who raged at each other on professional basketball courts and football fields. Their silence was a part of their basic makeup. Their bonus checks were hearts that restarted at their dogged insistence; their vacations were smiles elicited from children at camp; their country club dues were preschoolers who tramped through the fire station with stars in their eyes.
How could she expect to understand Rick when she’d never known anyone like him?
32
“SO WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO HIT THE PANIC BUTton?” Phyllis asked. “Seems to me it better be pretty soon.”
Catherine leaned forward to wave to the guard at the gate and saw that it was someone new. “You might as well stop. The new ones take their job seriously.”
Phyllis dutifully identified herself and waited for the guard to check the list of approved visitors. “What is he doing in there? Didn’t he see the grocery bags in the back seat? For all he knows we could have ice cream melting back there.”
“Goodness!” Catherine exclaimed. “I had no idea you were operating with such a short fuse today.”
“You know how I feel about all this business. Who are you people trying to keep out of here, anyway?”
“Girl Scouts. You should see them. Every year they storm the gates to try to sell us their cookies.”
Phyllis laughed. Finally the guard came back, but instead of simply opening the gate, he saluted first. “What nonsense.” Phyllis couldn’t resist adding, “You’d think he was letting us into a top secret military compound.”
“You won’t have to put up with it much longer,” Catherine said cheerfully. Her house had sold the first day it was officially on the market, at the asking price. Which, of course, convinced her that they’d priced it too low. She spent five minutes stewing over the possibility before calling her mother to celebrate. They’d gone to lunch at Cooking with Linda, Catherine’s favorite restaurant, the one place she allowed herself to indulge without a moment’s hesitation or guilt.
In the week and a half since then, Lynda had started school, Catherine had started her new job, and Rick had missed Brian’s first football game when he was called in for overtime.
“Have you at least decided where you’re going to look for a new house?”
“Lynda and I talked it over. She wants to stay in the area while she’s still in school and then doesn’t really care where I move when she starts college. I have a list of places the woman from the rental agency gave me. We’re meeting her when I get home from work tomorrow. There’s one in Johnson Ranch that looks promising, but I don’t know about the others.”
“Johnson Ranch is nice.”
Nice, certainly, but nowhere near what they were accustomed to. Catherine had never lived in a tract house and didn’t know what to expect. The idea that she could walk into a neighbor’s house that was just like hers was a disconcerting novelty.
“More important,’’ she said, “it’s somewhere I can afford. And small enough that I can take care of it myself.”
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this…the last thing I want to do is interfere…”
Catherine smiled. “What is it?”
“Do you need money? I have more than I’ll ever spend and I’d rather give it to you now than make you wait until I’m gone. I certainly don’t see any fun in that.”
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t see how you could be. I know it’s none of my business, but—”
“By renting another house instead of buying one and investing the money I’m clearing on the sale of this place, I’ll be able to support myself and Lynda on the income from the interest and my job.”
“You’re handling this thing a lot better than I thought you would.” Phyllis pulled into the driveway and set the parking brake.
“I know. It’s a little surprising to me, too. I keep waiting for depression to set in. Instead I wake up every morning with this incredible sense of freedom. I love my new job and Lynda loves being back in school. I’m excited about the direction our lives are taking. For the first time ever I’m completely on my own. Life couldn’t be better.”
“Now all you need is a good man to keep you—”
“Don’t even start,” she warned. Phyllis had been asking pointed questions and dropping decidedly unsubtle hints about Rick since the birthday party. “Whether you want to believe it or not, what I told you about Rick and me being friends is the way it is.”
“I understand why you’re moving slow. I thought about what you told me and I can’t say I blame you for thinking you’re a pretty poor judge of men. But you have to have figured out by now that Rick is nothing like Jack or Tom.”
“I don’t need a man in my life right now. I’m doing fine on my own.”
Phyllis was halfway out the door when she said, “That’s your problem, Catherine. You get need and want mixed up. You needed the other two to define and support who you thought you were. There was a time when you thought having a guard and a gate was a good thing, important enough that you let yourself get caught up in believing what a man could provide was somehow related to what he was inside.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say. You make me sound like—” Like the woman she was. Or at least the woman she had been.
Phyllis came around the car, carrying a bag of groceries in each hand. “Now I suppose you’re mad at me and I’m going to have to stick around until you get over it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because it took me this long to figure it-out. Not every insight comes riding in on a lightning bolt, you know.”
“Is that why you married Dad?” With Phyllis, insight was often based on experience. She took the groceries from her side of the back seat, joined her mother on the porch,
and, instead of digging through her purse for her keys, rang the bell for Lynda to let them in.
“I think that was part of it. In the fifties, girls were raised to be homemakers. No one ever told me I could take care of myself, so it was important I chose someone who could do the job right. I don’t know whether I was smart or just lucky that I wound up with your father.”
Catherine looked at her mother, trying very hard to be serious when she said, “So, what you’re saying is that it’s all your fault that I can’t tell a good man from a bad one.”
Phyllis blinked in surprise. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Gotcha.” She rang the bell again. After several seconds, she tried the door and found it open. Puzzled, she glanced at Phyllis. “Could I have forgotten to lock it?”
“No, I distinctly remember you checking.”
A feeling of unease crawled up her spine. She moved into the foyer. “Lynda?” No answer. “Lynda?” she said louder. Still no answer.
“Maybe she’s out back,” Phyllis suggested.
Catherine went into the family room and saw Lynda’s backpack on the sofa. The magazines that had been stacked on the coffee table lay scattered across the floor. The portable phone was in the fireplace and the curtains had been torn from the kitchen window. The coin of her fear flipped to terror.
“Lynda?” she screamed. “Lynda, where are you?”
Phyllis dropped the groceries. “I’ll check upstairs.”
Her heart in her throat, Catherine ran to the sliding glass door, flung it open, and crossed the deck. Lynda wasn’t in the backyard.
“She’s not up here,” Phyllis called as she hurried back down the stairs. She came into the family room and slowly looked around. “My God…What happened?”
Frantically, Catherine began searching the room. “Do you see her purse? She wouldn’t have left without her purse.”
She flung open the closet and checked it top to bottom. Phyllis looked behind pillows and under cushions. “Where could she have gone?” Phyllis asked. “And why?”
“Damn it.” Catherine hugged herself tight. “When I took the job, I promised her I would be here for her when she came home from school. I never should have gone shopping.”
Disguised Blessing Page 26
