by JM Dragon
Claire jabbed her chest. “Me, it’s all me.” She smiled at Shirley. “Oh okay, Shirley wanted the seafood. How is it?”
Shirley, her hands poised to cut up her pizza with a knife and fork, stopped and nodded. “Looks delicious.”
“Oh no, not cutlery, Shirley, it’s a free-for-all. Tonight, if it’s okay with Shirley, we are going to celebrate Calvin with pizza. Would he approve?” Claire stared at Shirley.
Seconds later Shirley gave a tight smile. “Yes, he definitely would. I recall he could devour a whole pizza in the time I ate one slice.”
“Then tonight we celebrate the life of Calvin and all the lives he touched and the special memories created.” Claire raised her slice.
Kris with a small smile did the same. “For Calvin.”
Shirley tentatively picked up her pizza slice. “For Calvin.” She frowned as she bit into it.
Claire looked at Kris and winked as they both sank their teeth into the pizza.
†
Kris sat opposite Claire in the conservatory, who was nestled in an oversized wicker all-weather sofa in a deep charcoal with bright red cushions. Her feet were stretched out and she looked totally relaxed. The flicker of the candlelight on the matching coffee table accentuated her high cheekbones and latte complexion; the sun agreed with her.
Having looked in the mirror prior to coming down to dinner, Kris saw that her own skin, normally a pale, waxy color, was now mottled with brown spots, which couldn’t even be called partway to having a tan. It just looked unattractive. Thank goodness Jess was blind. Mentally she chastised herself for the thought.
She continued her observation of Claire. Today she’d again turned out to be completely different from what Kris had expected. She’d seen a mischievous side to the socialite that obviously didn’t appear that often in her other world. Other world was the right expression. Here at Seasons and especially at the cottage, life appeared to have stopped or at least moved so slowly you never thought the day would end. In fact, her time with Claire seemed like an endless string.
The more she thought about an endless string and Claire, the more foolish she felt.
“I’m going to ask, so be prepared.”
Kris blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry, did I miss something?”
“Nope,” Claire chuckled. “In fact, it’s more the other way around. I know I like strong coffee and Shirley made it that way, but it isn’t that bad, is it?”
Kris frowned. She sat up in her chair with difficulty since the round cushions were so soft that she sank into their depths. “What’s strong coffee got to do with missing something?”
“Nothing. Well, that’s not strictly correct. For the last few minutes, your expression has gone from reasonably happy to downright pensive. Figured it was the coffee, or should I say, I hoped, because otherwise it’s me.”
“No, no, of course it isn’t you.” Kris laughed. “It isn’t the coffee either. I was lost in silly thoughts. Sorry.”
“Don’t need to say sorry to me, Kris. Anyway, in twenty-four hours you will be enjoying a wonderful date. So much better than sitting with a reclusive housekeeper and a has-been party girl.”
“Has-been? I don’t understand.” Kris pulled at her lip. Where had that come from? Claire had been so upbeat most of the day. This was the lurking depressive side Melissa warned her about before she came here. It had appeared the day before, so she recognized it.
Claire didn’t move her body but averted her gaze and stared out over the still-looking sea with the sun about to drop below the horizon.
“You are moving forward with your life, and I applaud that, I really do.” She faced Kris. “I was lost, you know, since the accident, probably for a long time before that. Perhaps it’s Seasons.”
Kris waited for more. It didn’t come. “Seasons is a wonderful place. If I had the opportunity, I know where I’d live, and it wouldn’t be in New York City. I’d trade my small rented apartment for a tent on the grounds. It’s simply magical, Claire.”
Claire looked away and threaded her fingers through the tassel of the cushion nearest to her. “Magical, that’s right. It’s not just the house though, is it?”
Claire speared Kris with an intense gaze that took her by surprise. Flushing, she tried to think how to answer the question. “No. It never is,” she softly replied. She reached for the coffeepot and poured another cup. She flashed Claire a look asking if she wanted one. Claire shook her head.
“People.”
The word floated in the air between them, and neither seemed to want or have the inclination to say more. Silence descended as they looked out toward the calm sea.
Kris stood, walked the few paces to Claire, and held out her hand.
Claire frowned. Then tentatively took it. The grip was strong like a bond as she helped Claire get off the sofa. They walked hand in hand over to the balustrade of the outdoor area, and Kris, with a smile, pointed to the sun.
“It’s almost gone, Claire, but it will be back. If we feel sad about that or afraid, then we have the stars to light our way. We are never truly in darkness. That’s what I think, anyway. No matter what there is in life, there must be always light at the end of the tunnel. We worry and lose our way or think we do, but you just need to look toward the sky to see there is always the promise of another day.” Kris chuckled. “You probably think I’m a philosophical idiot.”
Claire squeezed Kris’s hand. “Never.”
Kris nodded. “Good, I would be devastated.”
“My opinion is never worth someone being devastated, especially someone like you.” Claire smiled. The darkness in her expression earlier changed entirely.
“Thank goodness. You might use those power tools on me.” Claire begin to tug her hand away, and Kris held on. “Claire, look. What a beautiful sunset.” The red hues mingling with the last of the blue and the off-white clouds looked fascinating, at least to her anyway.
Claire stared at the sun setting and then turned to Kris.
“Thank you, Kris.”
“For what?”
“Making me see a little of what you do every day.”
“My pleasure, anytime.” Kris sucked in a silent breath and then blurted, “Why don’t you come to the golf club too? Jess won’t mind. She’s lovely, you will like her. I can call her….”
Claire moved away rapidly and shook her head.
“This is your night, Kris. Enjoy it. You don’t want a hanger-on. Trust me, it never works.”
Kris balled her hands and didn’t know why. “Okay, but the invite is open. I’m going to bed now. If you want a stroll on the beach at seven in the morning, I’m your girl. Otherwise, I’ll see you at eight for breakfast. I think Shirley has agreed to finally let us eat in the kitchen rather than the formal dining room.” Kris moved away from the railing and walked toward the door to the lounge.
“I think I’ll pass on the walk. That is rather early. The other, I wouldn’t miss it. See you in the morning. Oh, and all I ask is no bathroom duties.”
Kris giggled and left the room.
Chapter Fifteen
Kris preened in the mirror of her room, smoothing over her hips the A-line, cotton, blue summer dress with pink polka dots. It had been an impulse buy two weeks before she lost her job. Not that she had a reason to buy it, but when she saw it on the marked-down rail and it was her size, she had to have it.
Impulsive buying wasn’t something she normally indulged, and she could think of only two other occasions. Her cat Knight and an illustrated book on woodworking greats of the twentieth century.
The image she saw before her hadn’t really changed since she’d last looked. She still had the same mousy-brown hair in a simple, short cut, nothing remotely fashionable. She touched her nose, always prominent and perhaps her ugliest attribute along with her pale complexion. The makeup she rarely used hadn’t helped at all. In fact, she considered that she looked worse. Instead of her skin having a waxy look, it was now dry and powdery. How did peo
ple use this stuff twenty-four seven?
She glanced at her nylons. At least they looked good. The denier was the best she could afford. Besides, she felt that her legs were pretty good, and her pedal pushers and shorts never looked bad on her. A dress would be a breeze too.
She looked at the hands of the travel clock on the small bedside table. Five thirty. Drawing in a deep breath, she placed her hands on her belly. She could almost feel the flutters of nervousness as she stood there.
I could call and say I can’t make it. Kris ground her teeth. Can’t do that. Jess will be upset. She bit her lower lip. Claire will laugh and call me a coward. What’s worse, I wonder? She closed her eyes and then opened them, a determination in them as she stared at her reflection.
This is my time, I know it. Whatever happens.
She fetched a pale gray woolen sweater, picked up her purse from the table, and left the room.
Ten minutes later, she drove out of the gates of Seasons and turned right to head toward Chartres. A mile later, a set of lights indicated road construction was ahead and Kris stopped.
The first and only car to pass her was a bright red, sporty-looking sedan. As a kid she had always looked at the grill of a car to see who the manufacturer was. This one amazed her—Jaguar.
“Wow, didn’t know they looked like that now.” She chuckled. “How would I? Can’t afford one.”
Knowing about only three properties were on this road, she set off again and wondered who was in the car. It wasn’t someone from Seasons, so maybe one of the other property owners was back. She’d ask Shirley at breakfast.
†
From her bedroom window, Claire watched Kris drive away in Shirley’s car. In fact, she’d been watching the garage area for half an hour. For what? Yes, what? I like Kris; she’s a lovely person. Stupid thing is, I want to protect her. I’ve never felt like that about someone before.
Claire remained looking at the empty driveway. About to turn away, she heard a vehicle. Kris is back! Her heart somersaulted and she smiled. She turned back and her smile slowly weakened as a familiar car pulled up to the house and a dust cloud enveloped it. When it disappeared, the door opened and a pair of Prada shoes appeared behind it.
“Crap.”
†
“What do you think?”
“You look great. Dare I ask, are you actually dressing for an admirer?”
Jess Smith frowned, then laughed quietly. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” A shriek of shock reverberated around the room.
“Because, sis, you’d react exactly how you have.”
Jess shrugged on her jacket and then felt her sister Mary’s hands on her shoulders pulling the fabric firmly.
“Jess, if you are taking this much effort, let me at least know her name; if not that, how you met?” Mary released her grip.
Jess felt her move away, but not enough that she couldn’t work out exactly where Mary was. She could tell she was still nearby from the smell of her perfume, a cheap but pleasant fragrance.
“Kris and I met a week or so ago at Millie’s. She’s working at Seasons.”
Mary shrieked again. “Really, Seasons and the enigmatic Mrs. Rank. Wow. Is she related to Rank or the family that owns it? I hope it’s the latter.”
Jess shook her head. “Neither, she’s helping out with a renovation project for Melissa Jackson. I don’t know the exact details, and I don’t care. She’s a lovely woman.”
“Okay, does it mean she’s sticking around for a long time, or just a few weeks?”
“She said she’d be here about a month, and that means only a little over two weeks left. I think she will be good for me. It’s early days, but I have hopes she will keep in touch. I look good, right?”
“You look great, but have I ever mentioned that you always do? You make me feel like a frump when I’m next to you. Never change, youngster. You always did exude class.”
Mary walked to the door, and Jess heard the click of the doorknob turning. “Always were my greatest admirer, sis. Thank you.”
“Anytime. That’s what family is for.”
“Mary?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m nervous. Only ever felt like that once before.” She heard Mary move to her, and her sister dragged her into her arms.
“She wasn’t worth it,” Mary whispered in Jess’s ear.
Jess hugged her. “Yeah, I know.”
†
Shirley sipped her coffee as she listened to Kris drive away. The child hasn’t realized yet. She stood and checked the roast beef. Satisfied it was almost ready, she returned to her chair and took another sip of her coffee.
The sound of a car skidding to a halt in front of the house surprised her. She frowned, then stood and proceeded down the corridor to the front door. Claire hadn’t said she was expecting anyone. Before she reached the hall, she heard voices. So, Claire was expecting someone. She half turned and then walked to the swing door that led to the hall. As she opened it, she saw a tall, beautiful, immaculately dressed woman flinging her arms around Claire.
No! her heart screamed.
Chapter Sixteen
Kris smiled listening to Jess play a fabulous rendition of Billy Joel’s “Piano Man.” Gazing lazily around the packed restaurant, she saw that most diners were raptly watching her friend. The women looked even more smitten than the men. I can understand that.
Jess had the kind of elfin quality that could turn the heads of anyone, no matter their taste in sexual partners. She was no critic, but surely someone in the music business would be interested in Jess. Being stuck in Chartres couldn’t be good for a budding music career. Then again, she didn’t know Jess well enough to say if her friend wanted to deal with the trappings of the music business. Perhaps this type of venue was all she needed to satisfy her.
Her thoughts strayed to the moment they met outside the club. Kris guessed she had the upper hand because she could have turned around and left. Instead, she tamped down the flutters in her stomach and walked over to Jess, who was standing confidently near the entrance.
“Hey, I’m early.”
Jess grinned, and suddenly all the nervous energy that had plagued her disappeared.
“That’s okay, so was I. Early is good. To be honest, I was so nervous my sister helped me dress.” Jess shrugged.
Kris took a moment to take in Jess’s apparel. She wore a black luster cotton jacket, purple linen trousers, and a pristine white silk shirt with the buttons open low at the throat, showing an inch of cleavage—tempting but not overly revealing.
“Your sister has good taste. You look fantastic.”
“Do you trust me, Kris?”
Kris frowned and nodded. Idiot, Jess can’t see. “Yes.”
Jess moved closer and began to slowly trail her hands from Kris’s shoulders down her arms and then slowly over her body. Kris equated it to a pat down by a TSA officer in an airport, only much more pleasant. At least that was what she had seen on the TV.
“Get a room, Jess,” a gruff voice interrupted them.
Kris sharply moved away and Jess began to laugh and turned her head in the direction of the man.
“Sam, you should be so lucky.”
Jess turned to her with an apologetic expression. “Sorry. One of the problems with the sight impaired, we can’t actually see who might come around the corner. I just wanted to have the impression of what you looked like tonight.”
Kris felt relief at the remark. “Sighted can’t either, so you are not alone. You mentioned dinner, and I’m starving.”
“I did.” Jess chuckled, fumbling to take Kris’s hand awkwardly. “We have a fine table, and I can recommend the fillet steak, but then again, the pork belly is superb, and then there is the—”
“Stop. I’ll check out the menu”—Kris squeezed Jess’s hand—“and then take advice from an expert.”
Jess laughed as they entered the club. “Not an expert, just tried every meal they have. I’ve worked
here for the last twelve months. How many variations can they give me?”
Kris laughed. “So true. Lead on, oh dilettante.”
“Dang, what does that mean?”
Kris laughed. “I’ll tell you over dinner.”
†
“Claire, I wasn’t aware you were expecting a visitor this evening. Do you need me to make up a room?”
Claire glared at Shirley and didn’t answer. Instead, she turned her attention to the beautiful woman who had arrived. “Why didn’t you call and say you were coming?”
The harsh words sent a shiver down Shirley’s back.
The redheaded beauty calmly answered, “You texted me, remember?”
“When have you ever responded in the last eighteen months to any text I’ve sent?”
Shirley watched their body language. It bristled and not with the right kind of electricity.
“This time you sounded desperate. I still have feelings for you, Claire. We’ve been through a lot together over the years.”
“Yeah, and you conveniently ignore me but keep hold of the engagement farce, for what? Are you afraid no one will take you seriously if you break up with me? You are a joke, Racheal,” Claire shouted.
Shirley shrank against the nearest wall and tried to leave, but Claire called her back.
“No, Shirley, don’t go. Racheal is an unwanted guest. You can leave now, Racheal, and I promise you I will never contact you again.”
“You were always a selfish bitch, Claire. What was that text about if you didn’t want me to come see you? I know you still care about me. If the engagement is a farce—as you call it—and so odious to you, why not tell the media?”
Claire paled. “I will when I get back to the city,” she ground out.
Shirley moved away from the wall. “Would you like me to make dinner?”
Claire stared at her this time as if she were an interloper, and perhaps she was in this particular conversation.
