Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Joanna (Book 6)

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Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Joanna (Book 6) Page 12

by Webb, Peggy

“I’m working for a good cause, of course, and I do know you’ll want to be generous. You always are. And your Granddaddy before you.”

  “We’ll talk in my office. Joanna, do you have time?”

  “Yes.”

  The three of them went into Kirk’s office and settled on a generous donation for Gracelyn’s latest project. After Gracelyn had gone, Kirk turned his attention to Joanna.

  “We never finished our conversation, Joanna.”

  “No.”

  The interlude with Gracelyn had allowed him to get the situation back into proper perspective. One disastrous marriage to a much younger woman had been enough. He’d never stifle Joanna the way he had Trixie. With the desk between him and Joanna, he felt more in control. “I’m proud of you for undertaking this project on your own. We’ll reserve judgment on it until it’s had a trial run.”

  “All very formal and businesslike.”

  “Yes.”

  “And cold.”

  “Cold, Joanna?”

  She rose from her chair and began to pace. “Yes, cold. We used to be such good friends, and now....” She paused and spread her hands wide.

  “Nothing ever stays the same.”

  She walked to his window and looked out over the city. In the four years since she’d been gone, it had grown. As far as she could see, not one lot was vacant. Small businesses had sprung up like mushrooms. Neon signs pointed the way to everything from take-out chicken to brand new Cadillacs. On the hill, the hospital buildings had multiplied like a favorite rabbit. She pressed her face to the glass.

  “Everything has changed.”

  “Change isn’t bad, Joanna.”

  “No, but sometimes it’s very hard.”

  Seeing her turmoil, his heart ached for her. He longed to reach out, to comfort, but he feared what would happen if he did. In spite of his efforts to keep it the same, their relationship had changed. Innocent gestures kept getting out of control. Decisive action didn’t seem to solve anything. Kirk felt as if he were in a time warp. He was reminded of the days of his marriage, of the frustration of not being able to control the situation.

  He sat in his chair, watching Joanna, willing himself to let her go. “Change is damned hard, baby.”

  She whirled around. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “I’ve always called you baby.”

  “Yes. But not in the way you do now. There’s an intimacy in the way you say it.”

  “You’re imagining something that isn’t there.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes.” He hated lies. He’d always thought himself above them. But lately everything about his relationship with Joanna was a lie—pretending he didn’t want her when it took every ounce of his restraint to keep his hands off her; pretending to endorse her courtship with Alfred when he wanted to punch the man’s face every time he came near her; pretending that life at Meadow Lane was normal when it was a daily exercise in denial and frustration.

  He picked up a file folder that was on top of his desk and flipped it open. “If there’s nothing else on your mind, I have work to do.”

  He watched her straighten her shoulders, lift her chin. “So do I.” Her dignified exit would have done Angelina Jolie justice. He was seeing a maturity that hadn’t been there when she’d returned to Meadow Lane. Joanna was definitely a woman, and that was the hardest change of all.

  Kirk struck his desk with his fist. He’d be damned if he knew what to do.

  o0o

  After Joanna left Kirk’s office, she went straight to the employees’ lounge. She didn’t want to face Karen; she didn’t want to face anybody. Although she didn’t care for coffee, she poured herself a big cup. She figured a stiff shot of caffeine might perk her up. It might even stimulate her brain cells so she’d know what to do.

  She took a sip, then propped her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fist and stared at the wall.

  “The Thinker, I presume?”

  She smiled at Alfred standing in the doorway. He came over and sat down beside her. “Is this a private party, or can anyone join?”

  “You’re always welcome, Alfred.”

  Putting his finger under her chin, he tipped her face up. “Is the world coming to an end? Where’s that big smile?”

  She chuckled. “I hardly think the world’s going to end because Kirk and I fought.”

  “I’m a good listener, Joanna.”

  “I know you are.” She reached for his hand. “And a good friend. But nothing’s more boring than a recital of woe.”

  Alfred sat back and studied her. “On a scale of woe, I’d give you about a two, closer to mildly disturbed than wildly woeful.”

  She laughed. “Alfred, someday you’re going to make some woman a wonderful husband.”

  He put his hand over his heart. “Some woman, Joanna? How you wound me. Over lunch today I’ll prove that you’re the woman.”

  She became serious. “I should cancel our lunch date. It’s not fair to you.”

  “Not fair to whom?”

  “To you.”

  “Joanna, life is rarely fair, but it sure as hell is exciting. I’ll take my chances just like everybody else.” He stood up. “I’ll pick you up at twelve. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  o0o

  Kirk saw Alfred and Joanna leave together for lunch, and immediately lost his appetite. He worked straight through the rest of the day until it was so late his vision began to get bleary. When he got home that night, Joanna was already in bed. He thanked God for small favors. He was spared seeing her and not being able to touch her.

  In spite of a short night’s rest, Kirk woke early Saturday morning, restless and filled with a sense of urgency. As he dressed he cocked his head, listening for sounds of Joanna. Was that the sound of her bare feet on the floor? Did he hear running water? Was she drawing her bath? With his head half in his T-shirt, he stood listening. The house was silent except for the patter of Rags’ feet as he went down the hall, probably to his favorite window seat in the sunshine.

  The silence meant Joanna was still sleeping. He could picture her in bed, bright hair tousled across the pillow, long eyelashes curving on her soft cheeks. He had to grit his teeth to keep from going across the hall to her. He wanted to touch her face, smooth back her hair. He wanted to be the first thing she saw when she woke up. He wanted to be the reason for her smile.

  He jerked his shirt the rest of the way over his head and went downstairs for a hasty breakfast. Then he disappeared into the basement.

  o0o

  Joanna woke at midmorning, donned her terry-cloth robe and pattered through the house looking for Kirk. She found him in the basement, painting.

  “Need some help down here?” she called as she descended the stairs.

  “No.” He carefully put his brush down and stared at her. That long leg showing through the open front of robe didn’t improve his temperament a bit. “Don’t come any closer, Joanna.”

  “Why not?”

  Because I’m liable to rip that robe off you and take you right here on the basement floor, he thought. “Because you’ll get paint everywhere,” he said.

  “You needn’t be so fierce. Just because I made a small mess the other night—”

  “That’s just one of the many ways we’re different, Joanna.” He picked up his brush and returned to his work. His back was stiff and his expression grim.

  Joanna started to push the subject, but, seeing his turmoil, she changed her mind and went quietly up the stairs. In the kitchen she sliced strawberries into her cereal and sat down at the kitchen table. The sunshine poured through the windows, but it did nothing to cheer her up.

  After breakfast, she put on her swimsuit and went outside in the sunshine to think. Stretched in the lounge chair beside the pool, she let her mind roam free. She’d read that love conquers all. Of course, love had never been up against anybody as strong willed as Kirk.

  “The sun becomes you, Joanna.” She jerked her head
around to see Kirk standing near the edge of the pool apron. She’d been so busy thinking, she hadn’t heard him approach. With the sun highlighting the silver at his temples, he looked good enough to eat.

  “The sun becomes you, too.” She swung her arm toward a nearby chair. “Won’t you join me?”

  As he sat down his gaze swept over her. She was wearing a string bikini she’d bought on the Costa Brava. The look he gave her was so intimate she felt herself blush all the way to the roots of her hair.

  “Joanna, I came to apologize for what happened in the basement this morning—and yesterday at the office.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “Yes. Hear me out, please. My behavior toward you has been less than charitable lately, and I’m sorry.”

  “No. You’re wonderful. You’ve just been overworked. You work too hard.”

  “You’ve made me realize that, too. But please don’t make excuses for me. I’ve let personal problems affect my behavior toward you.” He lifted her hand briefly to his lips, then quickly let it drop. “You’re precious to me, Joanna. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

  His gaze sizzled across her, lingering over her legs, her breasts, her face.

  “You won’t,” she said softly.

  “I don’t ever want to lose your friendship,” he amended quickly. “I should have told you yesterday that I’m proud of you for trying to help Deerfield. Your music project was innovative and bold... and it just might work.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Anything is possible.”

  Optimism suddenly took hold of Joanna. She’d take this one step at a time. First she’d win his respect. Then she’d win his love.

  “Kirk?”

  “What have I done to deserve that wonderful smile? You look as if the sun’s just risen in your face.”

  “Are you sincere about wanting my suggestions?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been listening to the women employees talk. Did you know that many of them have a very hard time taking care of their children and working?”

  “Yes. It’s a common problem.”

  “Have you ever thought of providing day care at Deerfield?”

  “I haven’t, but it does sound like an idea worth considering.”

  “It might even result in increased productivity. If the women don’t have to worry about child care, I think they’ll work with more enthusiasm and efficiency.”

  “We’ll start working out the details Monday morning in my office. I’m proud of you, Joanna. You’ve come a long way from the girl who called balance sheets dull and boring.”

  “I’m not a girl. I’m a woman.”

  “A fact that never fails to escape my attention.”

  She thought the look in his eyes was pure sex. It was strange to her how even the simplest looks and words took on added meaning when a person was in love. She ached to have him touch her, kiss her. She almost reached out to him, but she knew what his reaction would be.

  Sighing, she reached for her suntan oil and began rubbing it on her arms.

  “Is something bothering you, Joanna?”

  “Why?”

  “I can always tell. Your face gives you away.”

  “Then I’ll have to learn not to be so transparent.” She poured a dollop of oil on her right palm and slowly massaged her chest.

  Kirk envied the oil. To be rubbed so intimately over her breasts would be ecstasy. He longed to bend over her and follow the path of the oil with his lips. He was suddenly filled with regret.

  “Joanna?”

  Her hands stilled, and a small dollop of oil tunneled between her breasts. Not touching that glistening skin was agony, Kirk thought. Joanna was still, waiting for him to say what was on his mind, but he restrained himself. With Joanna, nothing had ever been held back. But lately he’d been holding his feelings on a tight leash, careful of everything he said and did around her.

  What he wanted to say was, how do you perceive me? Do you think of me as old? It was suddenly very important to him that Joanna not view him as too old. Too old in general? Too old for her? He didn’t know.

  He pulled his gaze away from that erotic oil on her suntanned skin.

  “We’ve always been honest with each other, Joanna. Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you?”

  “It’s nothing I can discuss with you, Kirk.”

  “You’ve always come to me with your problems. I don’t want anything to change that.”

  “I’ve discovered that some problems have to be worked out alone. And some of them can’t be worked out at all.”

  “All problems have a solution.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Until lately I did.”

  A lone mosquito buzzed around their heads as they stared at each other. Kirk could sense a struggle in Joanna. He willed her to confide in him, to confess her problems. Maybe in helping her he could help himself.

  Suddenly she handed him the bottle of oil and rolled onto her stomach.

  “Why waste a perfectly gorgeous day talking about problems? Will you do my back?”

  Rubbing oil on her back was a chore he had performed many times before. Automatically he took the bottle. He touched her sun-warmed skin, and something inside him splintered. For an instant his hands trembled on her back, then he began a slow, intimate massage. He would take the moment as a gift and worry about the consequences later. As his fingers kneaded her soft flesh, he memorized every sensuous inch of her, the lovely slope of her shoulders, the fine curves of her back, the tiny nipped-in waist.

  “Mmm. Nobody does that quite like you, Kirk. Will you do my legs?”

  Oiling her back had been ecstasy; oiling her legs was sweet torture. It was a good thing his hands knew what to do, for his mind was somewhere else. He imagined those exquisite legs on a satin sheet, parted for him. He could almost feel the wet heat of her soft yielding flesh.

  “Damn.” The word exploded from him as he jumped up.

  Joanna turned over. “Kirk? Where are you going?”

  “To the basement to work on that rec room. I feel the need to pound something with a hammer.”

  She stood up. “I’ll help you.”

  “No!” He swung around, scowling. Seeing her crestfallen look, his face softened. “No, thank you, Joanna. I need to be alone for a while.”

  o0o

  After she’d sunbathed, Joanna called Janet and Clemmie and Belinda, who agreed to meet her for lunch and then spend the afternoon shopping.

  “I’m going to spend insane amounts of money,” she told her girlfriends over chicken salad at Café 212 on Main Street. “Spending money always makes me feel better.”

  “For me, it’s food.” Clemmie spooned in her cream cheese face and made a satisfied face. “It’s a wonder I’m not big a barrel.”

  “Are you sure you’re not pregnant, Clemmie?” Belinda asked. “I’m eating like a horse these days, and hoping that’s a good sign.”

  “No sign of your period yet?” Janet asked.

  “No,” Belinda said. “Thank goodness and pass the cream cheese cake.”

  “Hmmm.” Janet studied her. “You have that certain look about you.”

  “Really? You think I’m pregnant?”

  “Maybe. Just in case, I’m going to email you a list of the doctors I recommend.”

  “Let’s get an early pregnancy test and find out!” Joanna said. “OMG, this is more fun than shopping for clothes!”

  They raced paid their bill and raced off to the nearest drugstore. Since it didn’t have a public rest room, they waited till they got to the mall, and then all four of them huddled outside the stall while Belinda used the EPT.

  “Oh my goodness!” she yelled.

  “Is that good or bad?” Clemmie said, and Belinda burst through the door holding the stick.

  “I’m pregnant!!!”

  “Happy dance!” Joanna said, and they all joined hands and whooped around the public toilet.

&nbs
p; A gray-haired woman came through the bathroom door, took one look and fled.

  “I’m going to lose my reputation over this,” Janet said, but she was giggling.

  “What a way to go!” Joanna told Belinda, and then they all grabbed her in a group hug.

  “Let’s shop for baby things,” Belinda said.

  “Don’t maternity dresses come first?” Clemmie asked.

  “No! First I want to show Reeve something for the baby.”

  “Oh, I saw a cute bib the other day in Babyland,” Clemmie said. “It was blue with a little lightning bolt and it said, Those silly adults parents put my cape on backward.”

  “What were you doing in Babyland?” Janet said.

  “Wishing,” Clemmie replied, and they all went off to find a little Superman bib for the baby Belinda declared would be Superbaby. Nobody disagreed.

  o0o

  It was well after dark when Joanna got home.

  Kirk was waiting for her in his study.

  “Joanna, will you come in here, please?”

  She sat in the chair across from his desk.

  “You look very tired, Kirk. Did you work in the basement all afternoon?”

  “No. I went to the office for a while. There were some things I needed to take care of before my trip.”

  “Your trip?”

  “Yes. I’m leaving tomorrow for Atlanta. There’s a matter at our Deerfield plant that can best be handled in person.”

  “Isn’t this rather sudden, Kirk?”

  “Yes. But it’s something I must do, Joanna.” He picked up two file folders, and handed one to her. “I haven’t forgotten your day-care project. I’ve done some preliminary work on it. Let’s talk about it.”

  She and Kirk decided to convert a storage room on the second floor. He gave her free rein on the project. Then on Sunday morning, bright and early while she was still in bed, he flew off, leaving behind an itinerary complete with phone numbers in case of emergency.

  Joanna hated the itinerary. It was so cold, so formal. And it was a glaring reminder that Kirk was gone. She couldn’t see his face or hear his laughter or feel his hand on hers. For three days she dragged around the house as if she were sick.

  Even Rose commented on her behavior.

  “It’s not like you to mope around so. Maybe I ought to call Miss Sophie.”

 

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