by Janet Dailey
‘Thank you for the coffee and the ride home.’ She offered her hand to him in goodbye.
‘My pleasure.’ His grasp was warm and sure and all too brief. ‘I’ll see you again some time.’
The last sounded very much like a promise. Sabrina hoped that it was. His arrogance of their first meeting was completely erased. It was really strange how readily she had confided in him, she thought as she heard the car door open and close and the motor start. Not even to her father, who was very close to her, had Sabrina been able to talk that freely.
‘Where did you meet him?’ Peggy asked with more than idle curiosity.
‘The other day at the Yacht Harbor when Deborah and I went to pick up Dad,’ she explained, forgetting for an instant that her neighbor was standing beside her. ‘I just bumped into him this afternoon — well, not literally,’ Sabrina qualified. Her head followed the sound of the departing car until she could no longer hear it. She turned toward the older woman. ‘Peggy, what does he look like?’
The woman paused, collecting her thoughts. ‘He’s tall, in his thirties I would say. He has reddish-brown hair and brown eyes, not dark brown but they are brown. I wouldn’t call him handsome exactly. Good-looking isn’t the right description either, although in a way they both fit.’ There was another hesitation. ‘He looks like a man. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Yes,’ Sabrina replied softly. ‘Yes, I think I do,’ guessing that his features were too strong and forceful to be classified in any other way.
‘Good heavens!’ Peggy exclaimed suddenly. ‘I forgot to put the potatoes in the oven! I’ll talk to you later, Sabrina.’
‘Yes, all right, Peggy.’ Her neighbor was already fast retreating to her door by the time Sabrina absently acknowledged her words.
Three
* * *
‘Are you positive you want to walk out on the docks, Sabrina?’ Deborah asked sharply.
‘I would like to, yes,’ she admitted. Unconsciously she raised her chin to a challenging angle. ‘That is, of course, unless you want some time alone with Father.’
‘It’s not that,’ the redhead sighed in frustration. ‘Grant — worries about you so and there aren’t any railings on the piers. He’s naturally going to be concerned about your safety.’
‘All parents worry, Deborah,’ Sabrina said quietly. ‘Father just feels he has more cause to worry than most, with justification, I suppose. I can’t spend the rest of my life not doing things that might cause him to worry.’
‘Believe me, if I could find a way to make him stop worrying about you, I would do it,’ was Deborah’s taut response as she stepped out of the car.
Sabrina followed, but more slowly, walking around the car parked in the lot of the Yacht Harbor to the side of her father’s fiancée.
‘Has Dad said any more about setting the date?’ Sabrina asked as they started toward the fence gates.
‘No, and I haven’t brought up the subject.’ There was a pause before Deborah continued. ‘A long time ago I recognized the fact that I’m a jealous and possessive woman, Sabrina. If I married your father while you were still living at home, it would create friction among all of us. You would be hurt; your father would be hurt; and I would be hurt. I’m quite aware that you’re a very independent person and have no desire to be a burden to your father for the rest of your life.’
‘Which is why you’re pushing the idea of this school,’ Sabrina breathed in deeply, knowing the vast amount of truth in the redhead’s words.
‘It may not be the answer, Sabrina, but it is a start,’ Deborah suggested earnestly.
‘I need more time.’ Sabrina lifted her chin into the wind, letting the light ocean breeze play over her face. ‘I keep hoping there’ll be some other alternative. I don’t know what, but something.’
‘You are considering the school, though?’
‘I have to consider it,’ she sighed, ‘whether I like the idea or not.’
‘Thank you.’ Deborah’s voice trembled slightly before it steadied with determination. ‘I like you, Sabrina, but I love your father. I’ve waited a long time to meet a man like him. So please, understand why I’m pushing so hard to get you out of the house.’
‘I do.’ The wooden floor of the dock was beneath her feet, the harbor gate closed behind them. ‘If I loved a man, I would be just as anxious as you to have him to myself. But I won’t be rushed into a decision, not unless I’m sure there isn’t anything else.’
Deborah’s guiding hand claimed her elbow. ‘Turn left here,’ she instructed.
The titian-haired woman was aware of Sabrina’s stubborn streak. This was the time to let the subject drop when she had achieved a minor capitulation that Sabrina would consider her suggestion.
Sabrina guessed her tactics and willingly changed the topic. ‘Is Dad in?’
‘Yes, he’s tying everything down now,’ was the reply. A few minutes later, Deborah called out, ‘Hello, darling, did you have a good time?’
‘Of course.’ There was contented happiness in her father’s voice that brought a smile to Sabrina’s lips. ‘Sabrina? I didn’t expect to see you with Deborah.’ A faint anxiety crept in.
‘It was too nice a day to wait by the car.’ She smiled away his concern. ’don’t worry, I’ll be a good girl and not stray from the center of the dock.’
‘I’ll only be a few more minutes,’ he promised.
‘I’ll get your thermos and things from the cabin, if you like, Grant,’ Deborah offered.
There was hesitation before the suggestion was accepted. Sabrina knew her father was reluctant to leave her alone on the dock. His agreement was probably an indication that Deborah had given him a look that said he was being overly protective.
The creak of the boat was accompanied by the quiet lapping of the water against its hull. There was the flapping of wings near where Sabrina stood, followed by the cry of a gull. The ocean scent of salt and fish was in the breeze lifting the short hair on her forehead.
A tickling sensation teased the back of her neck. Instantly Sabrina was alert to the sounds of footsteps approaching, more than one set. Intuition said it was Bay Cameron and she knew all along that she had been hoping he would be there. But he was with someone, more than one, perhaps three others. The light tread of one pair of feet warned her that they belonged to a female.
‘Are you calling it a day, Mr. Lane?’ Bay Cameron’s voice called out in greeting.
‘Mr. Cameron, how are you?’ her father returned with startled pleasure. ‘Yes, this is all for me today until next week. Are you coming in or going out?’
‘Out. We thought we’d take in an ocean sunset,’ he replied, confirming that the other footsteps she had heard were with him. He had stopped beside her. Sabrina’s radar told her he was only inches from her left side. ‘How are you today, Sabrina?’
‘Fine.’ Her head bobbed self-consciously. She sensed the eagerness of the others to be on their way.
‘I see you made it all the way on to the dock this time without mishap. Did you do it by yourself?’ The words were spoken so soft and low that the light breeze couldn’t carry them to anyone’s ears but Sabrina’s.
‘No,’ she murmured, barely moving her lips.
‘Bay, are you coming?’ an impatient female voice asked.
‘Yes, Roni,’ he answered. ‘I’ll see you again.’ The ambiguous promise was offered as a goodbye. The raised pitch of his voice directed it to everyone and not Sabrina alone.
‘Good sailing!’ her father called out, but Sabrina said nothing.
A faint depression had settled in, intensified when the wind carried the woman’s haughty inquiry as to who they were, but her acute hearing couldn’t catch Bay’s response.
Her fingers tightened around the curve of her oak cane. She was glad her cane was not white, identifying herself immediately to his friends as a blind girl. She could not have endured the sensation of their pitying looks. It was bad enough imagining the explanation Bay was giving th
em now. She wished she had not allowed him to bully her into having coffee with him the other day, never poured out her troubles to him with such a complete lack of discretion.
‘Are you ready yet, Dad?’ she asked sharply, suddenly anxious to be gone, finding no more enjoyment in the scent and the sounds of the sea.
‘Be right there,’ he answered. ‘Have you got everything, Deborah?’
‘Yes.’
Seconds later the two of them were at Sabrina’s side, her father’s arm curving around her shoulders and guiding her back the way she had come. For once she didn’t try to shrug away his assistance. She wanted the protective comfort of his arm.
She had tried to block out the memory of that Sunday, but it remained a shadow lurking near the edges of her already dark world. The melancholy violin strains on the stereo were not easing her depression. The position of the furniture in their house had long been memorized, and she walked unerringly to the stereo and switched off the music.
The front door bell buzzed loudly into the ensuing silence. With an impatient sigh at the unwanted intrusion, Sabrina continued to the intercom that linked the street level entrance next to the garage with the living area of the house.
‘Yes. Who is it?’ she inquired briskly after her searching fingers had found the switch.
‘Bay Cameron.’
A surprised stillness kept her silent for ticking seconds. There was no warmth in her voice when she asked. ‘What is it you wanted, Mr. Cameron?’
‘I’m not selling brushes, insurance or bibles,’ his amused voice answered. ‘The only reason I can think of why I might be standing in front of your door is to see you.’
‘Why?’
‘I never did like talking to boxes. Will you come down?’
Sabrina sighed in irritation at the challenging tone. ‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ she said, and flicked off the switch.
She opened the door to the stairwell that led from the second floor to the street entrance. There were two doors at the base of the stairs, one leading to the garage that occupied the ground floor and the second to the street sidewalk.
Opening the second door, Sabrina walked four paces and stopped. There was an iron grillework gate less than a foot in front of her, preventing direct access to the house from people on the street. Bay was on the other side of that gate.
‘Now, what was it you wanted, Mr. Cameron?’ she asked coolly.
‘May I come in?’ he asked in a mocking voice.
Her common sense lost its silent war. Angry fingers unfastened the lock, swinging the gate open to allow him admittance into the small detached foyer. Sabrina stepped back, clasping her hands in front of her in a prim pose.
‘Why did you want to see me?’ There was a vaguely haughty arch in her long neck.
‘It’s what a native would consider a most unusual day. There’s not a cloud in the sky. The sun is shining. The breeze is light and warm. It’s the perfect day for a walk,’ Bay concluded. ‘I stopped to see if you’d come with me.’
Sabrina doubted the sincerity of his words. She couldn’t believe that his motive for asking was a genuine desire for her company. He was feeling sorry for her.
‘I’m sorry, it isn’t possible,’ she refused with honest cause.
‘It isn’t possible?’ he questioned. Sabrina could visualize the arrogant lift of his brow. ‘Why?’
‘I’m fixing a pot roast for dinner this evening. I have to put it in the oven in — ’ she touched the braille face of her watch ‘ — forty-five minutes. So you see, if I went for a walk with you, we would barely be gone and we’d have to come back. An hour after that I’ll have to be here to add the potatoes, carrots and onions.’
‘Is that the only excuse you have?’
‘It’s a very legitimate one,’ Sabrina returned firmly.
‘If that’s your only reason, we can soon take care of that,’ Bay said complacently. ‘Your oven has a timer. While you’re getting the roast ready, I’ll set the timer to turn the oven on in forty-five minutes. We can put it in now and have nearly two hours for our walk before you have to be back to add the rest of the items.’
‘But — ’ She tried to protest, but her mind was blank.
‘But what? Don’t you want to go for a walk? It’s too beautiful a day to stay indoors.’
‘Oh, all right,’ she sighed in exasperation, turning toward the door.
His throaty chuckle mocked her obviously reluctant agreement. ‘I’m amazed at how graciously you always accept my invitations,’ Bay taunted.
‘Maybe it’s because I can’t help wondering why you make them,’ Sabrina responded with faint acidity in her tone.
‘I have the impression,’ he reached around and opened the door for her before her searching hands found the knob, ‘that if you ever stopped being defensive over the fact that you’re blind, you just might be pleasant company.’
Again Sabrina bridled silently at his implication that she spent too much time feeling sorry for herself. When her entire life and future had been based on the ability of her eyes to see the things her hands would paint, it was natural that she should feel bitterness at the injustice of her fate. Even Bay had acknowledged that. If he agreed, then what right did he have to condemn her?
Bay Cameron seemed to make his own laws, Sabrina decided. She ushered him silently up the stairs, through the dining room into the kitchen. By the time she had the meat seasoned and in the roasting pan, he had the oven ready.
‘Are we ready to leave now?’ Bay asked.
‘I have to call my father.’ She ran her palms nervously over the rounded curve of her hip bones.
‘When Peggy Collins, our neighbor, is gone, he likes me to let him know where I’m going and when I’ll be back.’
‘In case some unsuspecting motorist runs you down?’ he mocked.
Her mouth tightened into a mutinous line as she pivoted sharply away. ‘You certainly have a thing about white canes, don’t you?’ she murmured sarcastically.
‘I suppose so,’ he agreed lazily. ‘Go ahead and phone your father.’
‘Thank you, I will, now that I have your permission,’ Sabrina snapped.
The switchboard girl at her father’s law firm put the call through to him immediately. She explained quickly that Peggy wasn’t home and that she had called to let him know she was going to be out for a while, not mentioning with whom.
‘How long will you be?’ Grant Lane asked.
‘A couple of hours. I’ll call as soon as I’m back,’ Sabrina assured him.
‘I know the weather is nice, but do you have to be gone that long? I don’t like the idea of you wandering about the streets on your own,’ he said.
‘I’ll be all right.’ She was strangely reluctant to tell him she was being accompanied by Bay Cameron. ’don’t start worrying,’ she laughed nervously.
A muscled arm reached around her and took the receiver from her hand. She tried to take it back, but her hand encountered the rock wall of his chest. Her fingers drew back quickly as if burned.
‘Mr. Lane, this is Bay Cameron. Sabrina will be with me. I’ll see that she’s back in plenty of time so that your dinner won’t be ruined.’ Her father made some affirmative reply, then Bay said goodbye and hung up the telephone. ‘He asked me to tell you to have a good time.’
‘Thanks,’ she murmured caustically, and walked to the closet to get her lightweight coat.
Retrieving her cane from the umbrella stand, she heard Bay open the stair door. She walked quickly through the opening, listening to him lock the door behind him before following her down the stairs to the outer street.
‘I thought we’d take the Hyde Street cable car down to Ghirardelli Square. Is that all right?’ There was an underlying tone of amusement in his voice, suggesting that he found her sulking display of temper humorous.
‘Whatever you like.’ She shrugged her shoulders stiffly.
There was no mocking rejoinder at her less than courteous acceptance of his
plan. In fact, he said not another word. If it hadn’t been for the hand that took her elbow at the traffic intersections, Sabrina might have been walking the blocks to the cable car street alone. Except for a curt thank you when he helped her on to and off the cable car, she didn’t address any remarks to him either.
‘Are you finished pouting yet?’ His question was heavy with concealed laughter as his hand firmly attached itself to her waist to maneuver them through the stream of summer tourists.
‘I wasn’t pouting,’ Sabrina asserted coldly.
‘You weren’t?’ Bay mocked.
‘Maybe a little,’ she acknowledged reluctantly, a trace of anger remaining. ‘But you can be insufferably bossy at times.’
‘I think you’ve just got your way too often lately. The people who care about you don’t like to say “no,” ’ he observed.
‘The same could be said for you.’
‘I’m sure it’s true.’ Again there was a lazy acceptance of her criticism. ‘But we weren’t talking about me. You were the one who was pouting.’
‘Only because you were taking over and running things without being asked,’ Sabrina retorted.
‘So what now? Do you maintain a state of war or take our walk as friends?’ She could feel his eyes on her face. ‘We didn’t get along too badly the other day.’
Sabrina breathed in deeply, feeling herself surrendering to the invisible charm of his low voice. ‘Friends,’ she agreed against her better judgment.
Once she had succumbed it was easy to let herself be warmed by his persuasion as he gently steered the conversation to less argumentative topics. They wandered around the fountain in the center plaza of the old Ghirardelli chocolate factory renovated into a shopping mall. They stopped at one of the outdoor cafés and sampled some of the thin, delicious crepes freshly made.
Their strolling pace took them by the windows of the multi-level shops in the buildings that made up the square. Bay laughingly challenged Sabrina to identify the type of store by sound and scent. She did quite well at the flower and leather shops and identifying what native cuisine was served at the various restaurants, but the jewelry, gift and import stores she missed entirely.