Never Alone

by Lyn Cote

  “It goes almost without saying that I am a fortunate man. You all know my mother and so you will believe me when I tell you that she was not surprised in the least when I came home from the first day of ninth grade and told her I had met the girl I was going to marry. Her name was Marjorie. When I think of all the men who waste years vainly trying to find their true love, I am very grateful. God said, ‘It is not good for man to be alone’ and He has blessed me with a true helpmeet.” He smiled broadly and tightened his arm around Marge.

  “This portrait is a lovely gift, but Marge and I received another gift this year. Our first grandchild. Jane, bring Angie here please.”

  Jane walked the few feet to her parents. Her father lifted Angie into his arms. “Of all the gifts we could have received this year, having this little girl become part of our family has been the best. Don’t you agree, Marge?”

  “Yes, losing dear Dena was sad,” Marge spoke softly. “But Angie is a precious trust from Dena. We will do our best to live up to Dena’s faith in us—along with Jane and Cash, of course.”

  “Thank you all for coming to celebrate this occasion tonight.” Phil motioned to the musicians, and they began to play a slow dance.

  Cash was shaking inside. Phil Everett’s simple words of gratitude to God for his wife’s love had shaken Cash to his core. As the music began again, the guests moved back to make room for the dancers. Cash looked around and realized that Tish was standing beside him. She had a discontented expression on her face.

  Jane approached them, carrying Angie. “Cash, would you hold Angie. Tom has asked me to dance.” Without saying a word, Cash took Angie. The little girl yawned.

  Cash said, “Tish, would you get Angie’s bottle and warm it? It’s nearly her bedtime.”

  “Sure,” Tish said.

  Cash watched Tom lead Jane out onto the patio, then take her into his arms for a slow dance. Cash’s jaw clenched. He turned away and walked down the back hall to the master bedroom. There, a folding crib stood in the corner next to a cushioned, platform rocker.

  Cash laid Angie down in the crib, which held diapers and clothing in Angie’s size. He murmured softly as he took her out of her fancy dress, changed her diaper and snapped her into her lightweight summer pajamas.

  “Here’s her bottle,” Tish said, still sounding disgruntled.

  Cash sat down in the rocker, positioned Angie across his lap, tucked his arm under her and took her bottle from Tish. With a contented sigh, Angie stopped fretting and relaxed in her uncle’s arms.

  Tish flopped down on the end of the bed. Cash looked up. “You don’t need to stay here. You’ll miss all the fun.”

  “Fun!” Tish scowled at him. “A bunch of old people! Mother said if I didn’t come tonight, she wouldn’t take me shopping to Wausau. I couldn’t make her change her mind—”

  “Of course you had to come tonight. It’s a family event,” he said mildly. “You’re fortunate to have such a wonderful family—”

  “Wonderful!”

  “Yes, wonderful. Did you ask your parents if you could bring an escort—”

  “No way! I wouldn’t bring anyone from school. I have the weirdest family—”

  “I don’t think they’re weird,” Cash insisted. “They’re just highly individual—”

  “Weird! My grandmother’s wearing a forty-year-old dress—”

  “It’s a Balenciaga original—”

  “It’s forty years old, for crying out loud! And Jane is wearing a thirty-year-old dress—just because it was the dress…” Tish’s voice became dramatic as she imitated her mother’s voice. “‘The dress Mother bought on her last trip to Paris with Father.’” Her tone hardened abruptly. “Who cares?”

  “I do.” Lucy’s voice startled both of them.

  Tish and Cash swiveled to watch Lucy enter. “You are talking nonsense—”

  Tish stood up combatively, her chin thrust forward. “I don’t care. What do I care about Grandfather? He was dead five years before I was born!”

  “He was your mother’s father,” Lucy said in deadly calm. “You are a part of him. He lives through you. And will live on through your children.”

  Tish made a sound of disgust.

  Lucy’s face became scarlet.

  Cash suddenly was worried about her. “Lucy, sit down. You’re flushed—”

  Lucy ignored him, her attention riveted on Tish’s face. Her voice came out low and outraged, “I never thought I would hear anything so devoid of true feeling come from a relation of mine.”

  Tish’s face now matched Lucy’s shade of red. “You’ve always hated me! It’s always Jane, Jane—”

  “I have never hated you,” Lucy went on relentlessly. “I’ve only hated the way your parents have overindulged you. The minute you were born, they let you take over their family—”

  “No, that’s not true. My parents never let me do anything I want. They didn’t let me be Aquarama Queen!”

  “You know yourself that only junior and senior girls are expected—”

  “I don’t care!” Tish stomped her foot. “If you can wear forty-year-old dresses, why can’t I be Aquarama Queen a year early?”

  “The two situations are completely different. A Paris original is a work of art. Can a true work of art go out of style? I don’t wear my originals to be different. I wear them, so that others can see them and enjoy them.”

  “I don’t care why you wear them. It’s stupid!”

  Tish glared at Lucy. Lucy stared back, not giving an inch to Tish’s defiance.

  “Granddaughter, I have only one thing more to say to you. Pride goeth before a fall.” Majestically raising her hand, Lucy prevented Tish’s retort “Go wash the tears off your face and go back to the party.”

  Tish made a face at her grandmother and stomped out.

  Lucy shook her head. “How did Angie fall asleep through all that?”

  Cash looked down at the sleeping child. “I don’t know. I think her ears were effectively muffled by my arm and chest.”

  “I’ll take over now.” Lucy held out her arms.

  “No, that’s all right. You go back. You’re the hostess—”

  “I am an exhausted hostess. Cash, I’m in my seventies—”

  Cash stood up and transferred Angie to Lucy’s arms. He didn’t want to go back out to the party, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t leave the party so early without calling attention to himself.

  He stood outside the door at the end of the porch. Against clear instructions to the contrary, his eyes insisted on picking out Jane. She was still dancing with Tom. Cash made himself turn his attention elsewhere, and his gaze caught Phil and Marge just as they kissed lightly. The people around them smiled and nodded. As Phil began talking to another couple, he tucked Marge closer to him.

  The song ended. The band took its first break. Once again disobeying him, Cash’s eyes roamed over the gathering and picked out Jane.

  Tom stood beside her as they talked to another couple. Tom’s arm rested possessively on Jane’s shoulder. Cash watched Jane grin up at Tom and playfully punch his chin. Tom laughed and squeezed Jane’s arm. Jane moved closer into Tom’s embrace.

  Cash hurried from the room without a backward glance. He ducked out a side door to the back hall and then outside. Skirting the house he sought cover in the long evening shadows of the trees.

  Farther down the bank beside the Everetts’ boathouse, the dock projected out into the dusky water. His footsteps thudded rapidly down its length. Waves lapped against the shore and the pontoon boat moored there. He stepped onto the pontoon, knowing the boathouse and canvas cover over the boat would shield him from the house windows above.

  Leaning over the railing, he scanned the opposite shoreline automatically. But instead of seeing the scene of the lake and pine trees, he saw faces—Lucy, Dena, Phil, Marge, Jane. Then all the faces faded and one stood out alone—Jane’s.

  “Cash.” His name was murmured from behind.

  He tu
rned to face Jane. She took one more step forward. He was instantly aware of her intense concentration on him.

  He struggled with himself, but he could not stir himself to speak. He turned sideways from her, keeping his taut face out of the light, not wanting to let her read his confusion. He watched Jane, silhouetted in the ebbing sunlight, continue to stare at him as though nerving herself to say something.

  The lowering sun’s rays caught the brilliance of her hair, and a shimmering halo lit up her face, her reddish-gold hair, creamy skin, clear green eyes. He allowed his gaze to be drawn down the line of her perfect chin. He wanted to draw her into his arms, press his face into her neck and inhale the cinnamon scent that whispered, “Jane,” enticingly.

  He reached for her, pulled her close. He let his eyes close in anticipation as he bent to kiss her. But his lips met her hand, not her lips.

  His eyes opened.

  “No,” Jane said firmly. “No more empty kisses.”

  “What?” His voice was low and thick with emotion.

  “Cash, I have loved you since you kissed me on my sixteenth birthday, but you never even noticed.” She repeated, “You never even noticed. No more. Tonight I declare my independence from your hold over me. You don’t love me. You never will. I accept this tonight, and I won’t let it cripple the rest of my life. No more empty proposals from you. No more foolish hopes from me. You don’t love me. And now my heart is closed to you.”

  With that she turned and walked away slowly and deliberately. He listened numbly to her high heels tap evenly on the wooden pier. Then she was out of sight, the boathouse blocking his view.

  He felt as though someone had plunged a needle into his chest and was using it to draw his heart out of him. He winced with the pain.

  “I love you, Jane,” he gasped. Unspoken, more painful realizations ribboned through his mind: I’ve loved you for months. How could I have missed how much I need you?

  Chapter Twelve

  “I took your advice. I told Cash my heart was closed to him.” Jane felt her jaw harden on the word, closed. In Lucy’s sitting room, Jane sat with Angie on her lap while Angie unknowingly posed for the miniature Lucy was painting for Cash.

  “Oh, dear.” Lucy’s brush stilled.

  “I can’t waste my life—”

  “I know, my dear. You don’t need to explain to me. It’s just that I can’t believe Cash can be so mutton-headed or do I mean muddle-headed?”

  “Mutton-headed sounds good to me,” Jane replied drily.

  Angie twisted in Jane’s lap, looking up at her. The little girl squirmed onto her knees and rested her head against Jane’s breast.

  Jane swallowed tears and hugged Angie.

  “Now let’s turn around for Grandmother,” Jane coaxed Angie. Angie obediently slid onto her seat again.

  “I’m almost done, sweetheart,” Lucy cooed and began painting with careful, intricate strokes.

  “Where’s Tom this afternoon?” Jane asked.

  “He wanted to do some shopping in town. Are you certain, Jane, that you’re not—” Lucy stopped her question.

  “I’m not misleading Tom,” Jane said quietly. “He is a fine man. He and I have known each other almost our whole lives. Wasn’t that what you were thinking when you invited him here?” Jane paused.

  “Perhaps.” Lucy kept her eyes on her work in progress.

  “And I have decided that I don’t want Angie and me to be alone for the next twenty years—”

  At this Lucy stepped around the easel. “You’ve truly closed your heart to Cash completely?”

  Jane pursed her lips. “Yes. I told you.”

  “I see.” Lucy looked at her granddaughter.

  “I want to marry. I don’t want Angie to be an only child. I want more children, Grandmother.”

  Lucy nodded solemnly. “I wanted a houseful, but it wasn’t to be. I hope you have better luck. The miniature’s finished, Jane.”

  Jane swung Angie into her arms and stood up. On her grandmother’s easel was an oval about two inches by three. In such a small oval, there was only room for Angie’s round, cheerful face.

  “Beautiful. Simply beautiful.” Jane kissed her grandmother’s cheek.

  “Thank you, dear. But really it would have been impossible to make Angie look anything but darling.”

  The two women stood side by side. Angie clapped her hands.

  “Lucy!” They heard Tom call as he came in the back door.

  Lucy replied, “Come in, Tom, and see Angie’s miniature. I’ve just finished it.”

  He came quickly and stood behind the three females. “How delightful. You look great, kid.” He ruffled the raven curls on top of Angie’s head. “How about a swim, Jane?”

  Her eyes connected with his. She let a smile take over her mouth. “Angie, too?”

  “Delighted to have her. Did she bring her trunks?” he teased.

  “It’s a gracious invitation, Tom,” Lucy interposed, “but I think Angie should take a long rock on my lap and maybe sleep.”

  “Still game then?” Tom asked.

  Jane kept her smile in place, but the tug of tears caught at the back of her throat. When would she stop teetering on the brink of tears, moment by moment? Giving up a sixyear fascination with Cash wasn’t going to be easy.

  But in only a matter of minutes Tom and Jane were thundering down the end of Lucy’s pier. As they had done thousands of times in the summers of their childhood, they both jumped off the end.

  Surfacing, Jane smoothed her wet hair back from her face and looked around for Tom. She turned a complete circle and then called, “Tom—”

  She squealed. Two hands jerked her ankles and pulled her back under. The two of them thrashed frantically in the water, then began alternately chasing and dunking each other.

  Tom finally swam to the side of the pier. On its vertical posts hung black, oversize inner tubes. He tossed out two. Jane swam to the farthest tube, dived and surfaced in the middle of it. She rested her arms around the tube, her feet dangling. Tom paddled his over to face her.

  “Jane.” He looked into her eyes. The unguarded expression on his face made it impossible for her to speak. “Jane.”

  Hesitantly Jane let her hand glide over the wet surface till her fingertips touched his inner tube. With a quick smile, he laid his hand over hers. Once again tears caught in the back of her throat.

  Quickly she slid back under the water and struck out into deeper water, liberally splashing Tom’s face.

  “Mister Langley, explain yourself.” Lucy glared at Cash.

  Moments ago when she had entered his office, he had risen hastily, causing the blueprint he had been studying to roll shut with a hushed wap. “Lucy?”

  “Explain yourself.” She took another step forward, closing the slender gap between her and the cluttered desk in his on-site trailer.

  “What? What’s wrong? Is Angie—”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Angie. I am asking you to explain yourself, sir.”

  Her imperious, irritated manner took him so much by surprise that he couldn’t think of how to answer her. Finally after at least five seconds of staring, he gave up trying to figure out what to say. He lifted a mound of paperwork off a chair next to his desk. “Won’t you sit down—”

  “I prefer to stand. Thank you.” Lucy let her large canvas purse settle on the front edge of the desk. She folded her hands on top of it.

  Cash straightened his spine. “What am I explaining?”

  “Your mutton-headed behavior toward my granddaughter.”

  “I…I…”

  The door behind Lucy opened. “Boss, that load of—”

  “Pardon me.” Lucy turned to face the man. “I am in conference with Mr. Langley.” She pulled the door’s knob toward herself, forcing the man to back down the steps behind him. When the door closed, she clicked the lock button and swung back to face Cash.

  “What the heck is the bee in your bonnet?” Cash demanded.

  “Cal
ling my mood a bee in the bonnet is like calling Hurricane Andrew a thunderstorm.”

  “Why don’t we just get down to business? What’s this all about?” His hands found his hips. The vehemence of his voice was overshadowed by the sudden pounding of rain on the metal roof above them. He groaned aloud. “More rain!”

  “The fact it’s raining one more time this summer should be of no surprise to anyone. Don’t try to distract me.”

  “What is it, Lucy?”

  “I believe I informed you that I wanted to know why you had been playing the fool with my granddaughter.”

  “I don’t know what you’re referring to.” But uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach.

  “Tom would understand what I am referring to—if he knew what had been going on between you and Jane this summer.”

  “Tom.” Cash’s voice was hard. “I’ve been asking myself why he received a special invitation to stay with you.”

  “Because it was time for Jane to have someone around who appreciated her.”

  “And I don’t appreciate her.”

  “I believe that was my first point.”

  They glared at each other.

  “You proposed a marriage of convenience to Jane.”

  “She told you!” Surprise shimmered through him. He hadn’t thought Jane would tell her grandmother.

  “Who else? Why…how could you have blundered so completely?” Her tone softened, and she spread her hands in a gesture of appeal.

  “I thought it made sense.” He shrugged helplessly.

  “My granddaughter is beautiful, successful, tenderhearted. For the past six years I have waited for you to, hoped you would, wake up and see what a treasure she was—”

  “How was I supposed to know she’d been in love with me? She was the best friend of my baby sister. I wasn’t a cradle robber!”

  “Your past blindness is no excuse. Your proposal was an insult. An insult!”

  “I didn’t mean it to be.” He looked down. “I can see now that it was a mistake, but—”

  “You regret it?”

  “With all my heart.”

  A few seconds of silence vibrated between them. Finally Lucy sat down in the chair he had offered her before, and he let himself settle back into his chair.