by Lyn Cote
Earlier in the year she had initially sparred with him over joint custody. After their June showdown, he thought she had gradually begun to come around. But this iciness was much worse than either previous phase. What had been so awful about his proposal? Their marrying for Angie’s sake only made sense.
“It’s done,” Lucy announced simply.
Jane felt an unexpected shiver of excitement go through her. “May I see it?”
Lucy nodded, and Jane rose to stand beside her. Warily she looked at the canvas. There she was, in her grandmother’s peach dress, sitting on the white wicker. But her expression in the portrait was what snagged her attention. Lucy had, of course, painted her granddaughter in a flattering way—Jane had expected that. But Jane’s expression was at once winsome, wry and somehow wistful.
She touched her grandmother’s shoulder affectionately, feeling Lucy’s soft, worn cotton blouse under her fingertips. “Is that how you see me, Grandmother?”
Lucy put her hand over Jane’s and whispered into Jane’s ear, “Now if only Cash would be smart enough to see it.”
Jane experienced a sudden desire to cry. Resolutely she pushed it away. “Mom and Dad will be pleased with it.”
“Great job,” Cash said, arriving beside Lucy. Angie clapped her hands and leaned forward to Jane. Jane took her into her arms.
“It’s only four days away,” Jane murmured, keeping her eyes on her grandmother.
“Yes, we cut it a little close,” Lucy said. “Jane, why don’t you wear the dress to the party? It will make the presentation of the portrait more striking.”
Jane pursed her lips. “If you think I should.”
“Your parents’ party is only four days away, and that means Angie’s first birthday is only seven days away,” Cash pointed out.
Ice closed around Jane’s heart. Twelve days till Angie would leave her for a day.
Jane smiled as cheerfully as she could at Angie, who sat in her car seat in the Blazer. What’s wrong with me tonight? I am delighted that my parents are celebrating thirty-five years together. Angie looks adorable in her new pink dress with ruffles and lace. I know Mom and Dad will love the portrait. It would, all in all, be a festive, joyous evening with family and old friends. What had caused her emotions to snag together into a tangle of knots?
She knew the answer without voicing it. Cash Langley. Of course he would not dream of staying away tonight. Their two families had been friends for generations. But having Cash near, while she celebrated her parents’ longlasting love, would rub her like salt in an open wound.
She pulled up near her parents’ summer home and parked in the crowd of cars at the base of the hill. With Angie in her arms, Jane, wearing heels, walked up carefully. Ahead in the doorway her grandmother waited. In honor of the occasion, Lucy wore one of her vintage Paris originals, a simple bell-shaped dress in pale green.
At the door Lucy greeted Angie. “I’m so happy you could come, little Miss Angie,” she cooed to the baby, kissing her cheek. “Hello, my darling.” She kissed Jane, also, and gave her a glance filled with love and concern. Jane could only nod in response because she was already forcing back tears.
Next in the informal receiving line were Jane’s parents. Her father kissed her and teased Angie. Marge smiled in delight and claimed Angie for a quick hug. Another couple came up the steps behind Jane, so she tried to retrieve Angie from her mother, but the baby refused to leave her grandmother. Immensely pleased, Marge leaned forward to murmur to Jane, “I’ll keep her. Cash has your corsage. You look wonderful in Mother’s dress.”
Jane nodded and entered the hall, then the living room. Her own feeling of tentativeness in these familiar surroundings unnerved her further. Her arms felt empty without Angie’s reassuring company. Soft, taped music played in the background. Musicians would come later for the dancing. The large L-shaped dining-living room was already full of cheerful people, talking and eating hors d’oeuvres. Jane tried to shake off her melancholy and behave naturally.
Cash saw Jane enter. Holding the corsage box in front of him like a peace offering, he moved through the crowd to her. She turned and caught sight of him. He froze. For a few seconds he could only stare. Surely he should have gotten used to seeing her in the dress she had posed in. His mouth became dry and his hands trembled slightly like a schoolboy, picking up his date to his first dance. Jane was the most beautiful woman in the room.
As she walked gracefully to him, she moved as effortlessly as an angel hovering near the earth, creating in him a surge of anticipation. In spite of himself, he longed to pull her to him. He would kiss—
“My corsage please?” she asked coolly.
The cold tone of her voice killed his thoughts. A dangerous fire burned in her emerald eyes. He almost retreated a step. She was still angry over his proposal, and he still could not understand her reaction to a perfectly honest suggestion. Weren’t flowery declarations of undying affection passé now? Had she expected him to go down on one knee and declare undying love?
She took the white box from him. As though his skin were repulsive to her, she made certain she touched only the box. Irritation bubbled up inside him. But as she walked away, he still couldn’t make himself draw his gaze from the sway of her hips.
Jane clutched the box in one hand and went down the hall to her parents’ first-floor bedroom. Closing the door behind her, Jane felt the room, decorated in restful blues, was a welcome haven.
But there, in front of the wall mirror was Rona, putting on lipstick. Rona was wearing the informal uniform that she wore to catering jobs, a black tunic over black slacks. But Rona being Rona, she had added color with a russet and gold scarf at her neck.
Inwardly Jane sighed, but made herself walk forward. She hoped Rona wouldn’t be in a prying mood. “Could you help me pin this on?” She held the box out to Rona.
Rona took the delicate confection out of the box and then looked at Jane’s dress. “New dress?”
“It’s my grandmother’s.”
Rona carefully pinned the flowers onto the right shoulder of the dress, high above its scooped neckline. “One of her originals?”
“No, but it was purchased in Paris.”
“That explains it. I don’t know how your grandmother does it. Half the time she dresses wacky, but when she wants to be beautiful, she succeeds every time.”
“Grandfather said it was the artist in her. The desire to surprise and delight.”
Rona stepped back and looked Jane over critically. “You look lovely, of course, but you’re very pale. Aren’t you feeling well?”
“I’m fine, thanks. It’s just all the getting ready. Angie does make it a challenge.” Jane, stepping around Rona, looked into the large mirror and fluffed her hair with her fingers, then smoothed the full skirt of her dress. “You did a good job of pinning the corsage. It feels secure and isn’t sideways.”
“Vitelli’s offers a full service catering. Well, I can’t hide in here all night. I have work to do. Carmine will be yelling his head off for me any moment now.”
They went back to the noise of the party. Cash, holding Angie, was waiting at the entrance of the living room for her. Jane took a firm grip on her emotions.
“Good luck,” Rona whispered and left her side.
Jane walked up to Cash. Wordlessly he led her to the kitchen snack bar. Perched on a high stool next to Cash’s, she accepted a goblet of sparkling white grape juice and looked around.
Lucy had considered Mylar balloons as too gauche for this formal occasion. Instead small, artful arrangements of late-summer blossoms: pink asters, dusky gold mums, bright yellow snapdragons graced the end tables and mantel. And a bounty of gladiolus. There were huge floor vases of these tall, regal flowers in bold white, peach and yellow. They filled the spacious room. The abundance of flowers set the festive mood, and Jane focused on the smiles and friendly voices around her. Angie also appeared to be fascinated by her surroundings. As Angie’s attention roamed the room, she sa
t unnaturally still on Cash’s lap.
Pivoting in her seat, Jane noted the other party preparations. In Lucy’s mind a formal party still meant crystal, silver and bone china for a sit-down dinner. The guests now milled around the long L-shaped living room and dinette. But outside, the large screened-in porch, which encompassed the length of the lake side of her parents’ home and then curved around the far end of the house, was prepared for dinner. The porch had been adorned with a rainbow of lanterns and candles. The tables there were ready to seat thirty-eight people. And, of course, Lucy had somehow magically influenced the weather to cooperate this evening, and the summer’s storms and heat were blessedly absent.
Cash cleared his throat. Reluctantly she looked up. He touched his glass to hers and leaned forward so she could hear him. “To you.”
Automatically she tried to read his mood from the expression on his face and tone of his voice. He seemed merely polite. Why do I continue to look for something in him that had never been there and would never be there? Keeping the occasion in mind, she smiled politely in return and introduced a neutral topic. “I’m happy your conflict with Roger is over.”
He lifted his glass in salute. He leaned forward again. “How’s your size-eight mystery going?”
Her spine stiffened. She tilted her face nearer him, so he could hear her over the buzz of voices and tinkling of ice in glasses. “It’s ended.”
“Which was it? Mel or your cousin?”
“Tish quit and the size eights have stopped vanishing and returning, I’m leaving it at that.”
“I see. If it was Mel, she would now be forced to stop simply because there is no longer anyone else to muddy the issue.”
“Exactly.” Knowing the culprit was her own unrepentant cousin made her grit her teeth, but she managed to smile.
“Jane?” an unexpected voice came from behind her.
She turned around. Tom, whom she hadn’t seen since the reading of Dena’s will at his Chicago office, stood before her. “Tom! I didn’t know you were coming up for my parents’ party.” She jumped down from her stool and gave the lawyer an affectionate hug.
“Well, Lucy called me last week and invited me to come up and stay with her. I decided I could use a week away from court.”
“You can forget all about briefs and judges now.” She tucked her arm in Tom’s, glad of his presence, which would provide a welcome distraction to the tension of being with Cash.
“Angie has really grown.” Tom took Angie’s small hand and shook it. “She looks so much like Dena.”
“Yes,” Cash answered woodenly. When would any reference to his sister stop slicing through him like a sharp razor?
“She’s a doll. She has your hair, Cash.”
Angie unexpectedly stretched out her arms to Tom. He lifted her gingerly as though the little girl were made of cotton candy. “She’s so light!”
“Thank goodness,” Jane said wryly. “She isn’t walking yet.”
Tom held Angie close to him and began reciting nursery rhymes. Angie listened to the chanting cadence with obvious fascination.
Cash felt a whiplash of jealously slice through him. When Jane had arrived, her beauty had rocked him from head to toe. As he had sat next to her, talking about nothing, her icy anger had washed over him in progressive, freezing waves. Then at Tom’s innocent mention of Dena he had been stabbed with pain, and now jealousy ricocheted through him like live ammo. Why was everything hitting him so hard tonight? The party had just begun.
Tom nuzzled Angie’s cheek and then handed her back to Cash.
Tish appeared at Cash’s side. He stood up politely and nodded to her. “Hi, Cash,” she said. He noted that her soft tone warred with the barbed glance she gave Jane.
Jane quelled the urge to say something back to her cousin. Tish was wearing a black cotton sheath which, instead of draining her light complexion as it should have, enhanced her pale ivory skin. That style was much too sophisticated for a sixteen-year-old. Why didn’t Aunt Claire stand up to her daughter more? “You didn’t buy that at my shop,” Jane said pointedly.
“No,” Tish said airily. “Mother and I drove to Wausau yesterday. Your shop is nice enough, Jane, but it’s too small to offer much variety.” The girl slipped her arm through Cash’s and rubbed noses with Angie in their accustomed greeting.
Jane bit her tongue before she said something she’d regret. Instead of reacting with anger, maybe it was time to start praying over her relationship with her cousin.
“We’re going to go again,” Tish continued. “To Wausau, I mean, before school starts. I saw some lovely clothes, but I just didn’t have to time to try everything on. That’s one thing I owe your shop, Jane. Working there gave me such a desire to wear a variety of styles. I hate wearing the same thing over and over, don’t you?” Tish turned innocent eyes to her cousin.
Jane flushed. So far she had been unable to tell her aunt and uncle about their daughter’s “borrowing” clothing from her shop. It made her angry to think that Tish considered herself the winner in this situation. But Jane still intended to settle Tish’s “hash.” She would put the problem before Lucy, and she was confident that their grandmother would know just what to do to teach Tish the lesson she so richly deserved.
At this thought Jane smiled. “No, frankly, Tish, I think I take after Lucy about clothes. What I like, I like, and I don’t mind wearing my favorites. I love fashion and its trends, but I hope that you will find and retain your own style. That’s the mark of a truly well-dressed woman.”
“I must say that I like what you are wearing tonight,” Tom said appreciatively.
“It’s Lucy’s.” Jane swayed slightly, letting her full skirt ripple.
Tish sniffed. “It looks like one of those weird square dancing dresses old women wear.”
“Not even a little.” Lucy’s voice came out cold and clear. She stood right beside the suddenly flushed Tish. Over the hubbub, Lucy announced that dinner was ready and please would they all find their places out on the porch.
Tom steered Jane out onto the porch and located their name cards. Reading the other name cards at the main table, Jane found that Aunt Claire, Uncle Henry, Tish, her parents and Lucy were to be joined by Cash and Angie.
Lucy had said nothing to her about inviting Tom north for a week. Is Grandmother trying to take my mind off Cash? She told me I could choose to find someone else. Jane glanced at Tom. He had always seemed a little overly serious, but she had no doubt he would make an excellent husband and father.
“Let’s sit down.” Tom gently guided her into her chair. “I’m happy your grandmother seated me next to you,” he whispered into her ear. “I think I am going to enjoy this week off. I had forgotten how lovely the Everett women are.” His compliment was balm to her shredded pride. She smiled up at him.
As Cash watched Jane smile at Tom, he numbly put Angie in her high chair. Jane’s dad’s best man from thirty-five years ago rose and led them all in a toast to many more happy years for Marge and Phil. The glasses clinked. There was applause and the salads were brought out efficiently. The tables hummed with happy conversation.
Cash watched Jane’s parents touch glasses again and exchange a look charged with love. He looked away as though he had come upon them kissing. His eyes touched Tish, and she smiled at him. He smiled briefly in reply, then turned to the task of helping Angie with her meal. He was glad feeding Angie gave him something to do. In spite of having to keep up with Angie’s demands and his trying to eat enough of the delicious food in front of him to be polite, he still found his attention being drawn in two directions: to Jane’s face and to her parents.
All through the meal, Tom kept murmuring into Jane’s ear, making her smile, nod, laugh. Cash was possessed by an urge to bump Tom off the chair next to Jane and take it for himself. Why? Tom was a nice guy. In the past, he’d dated both Jane and Dena. So why did Cash want to suddenly do him bodily harm?
The other irresistible draw was Marge and Phil. A
t every possible opportunity their hands touched; their eyes sought out the other. There seemed to be a warm glow around them, unseen, but still evident. He had always liked the Everetts, but never had Marge looked lovelier and Phil more content, fulfilled.
The meal finally came to a close with a flaming dessert. Another toast was observed for the Everetts.
Then Lucy rose majestically. “Friends and family, tonight is a very happy evening for me. Watching my son live happily with this wonderful woman for the last thirty-five years has been an untold blessing to me.
“I know personally that it has been a happy and successful time for both Marge and Phil. So Jane and I, with Cash’s assistance, planned a special gift to honor them. Will you all come into the living room to view its presentation?” She motioned everyone to rise, then led them back into the long room.
In front of the vaulted stone fireplace, an easel, draped in white, had been set up in their absence. Without another word, Lucy marched directly to it and swept the cloth aside.
Cash stared at Jane’s likeness. The peach dress, her copper hair and the white wicker were harmonious, sunlit and lovely. Glorious. Spontaneous applause swept the room, and he watched Jane blush at its sound. People came forward, shaking Jane’s hand, patting her shoulder and hugging her. Cash’s attention alternated between Jane’s portrait and Jane herself.
Cash watched Lucy, Marge, Phil and Jane being pushed forward to stand beside the portrait and accept more congratulations. When Tom came up and kissed Jane’s cheek, Cash felt a charge of heat flood his face. Electronic flashes from many cameras went off in bursts. Angie, in Cash’s arms, cried for Jane, and he had to give the baby to her. Awkwardly he stepped out of camera range.
“If I may have your attention please,” Phil raised his voice and the gathered friends became quiet. Jane, holding Angie, stood beside Lucy. “I won’t talk a long time, but this is one of those rare opportunities when a man can speak about what really matters in life.
