Fade to Blue

by Julie Carobini

  His earlier assessment made me want to lash out. If I could dash off as Holly had done, I would have. Yet considering how far we were up on this mountain that roamed with wild animals, the idea held little appeal.

  “I have betrayed Holly, and therefore, I’ve betrayed myself.” I held back the tears. “Please. Just take me home.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Worm holers.

  The phrase intrigued me. Anything, I guess, to keep my mind off yesterday and my lapse in judgment in agreeing to hike up the peak behind The Enchanted Hill with Seth. The only thing enchanting about the evening was the view and even that paled on the way down.

  Letty and I spent all morning on the door project, prepping the back side of the wood for finishing, and it was from her that I heard about the worm holers.

  “They were hired in Hearst’s day to make restored areas of wood look as ancient as the rest of the subject. There is an arched room in the castle Julia Morgan had to lengthen to fit—they used real ceilings shipped over from Europe throughout the place, you know. Anyway, Ms. Morgan had to insert sections of new wood into the arch, but the surface appeared too perfect, so she hired professionals to drill holes in it to match the authentic damage done elsewhere.”

  “Huh. So people lived up on that hill with the job title Worm Holer. Wonder how that looked on a résumé.”

  Letty stopped, her painted brows stretched upward. “They were set for life. You do not work for William Randolph Hearst or Julia Morgan and find yourself without a job.”

  Oh.

  “How is our boss? Have you seen him?” Letty switched subjects faster than a game of Jeopardy.

  “I stopped in on him this morning after dropping off Jeremiah, but Fred was asleep. Sherry told me he’ll be going home today, though, so that’s good news.”

  “Sherry is a good woman.”

  “She’s very sweet and patient. The way she set up that room with handmade blankets and an iPod dock playing ocean sounds, I’m not sure he’ll want to leave.” I laughed. “She even managed to blow the alcohol scent out of there with some fragrant oils. I could learn from her.”

  Letty’s head jerked up as if she’d heard a gunshot.

  I tilted my chin. “What? Did I say something weird?”

  “No.” She shook her head, but the bunch to her forehead concerned me. “I think we are ready to paint, but not sure how much Fred will want us to do until he comes back. I’ll check with him, and perhaps we can get started after lunch.”

  I stepped back to examine my portion of the door. Letty was right. The exposed wood begged for something to cover its nakedness while the protected areas wore a fresh, dry layer of clear finish.

  “Suz?” Letty implored me with her dark eyes. “I believe you have a visitor.”

  Something about the way her gaze held me made me hesitate before I turned around.

  Len stood several steps behind me, bearing a full blooming bouquet of tulips in his hands. The contrast between the colorful flowers and the man with ashen skin attempted to suck the breath right out of me.

  “Len?”

  He held the flowers out to me, his expression tentative. “Suzanna. Wasn’t sure if you’d accept me.”

  If I were to reach out and take those flowers from his waiting hands, would that mean I accepted him?

  Before I could decide, Letty swept in from the side. “I will take those and find a vase for them.” Letty plucked the bouquet from his hands and shuffled off, as Len’s eyes widened like a puppy’s before dinner.

  “You look amazing. Wow. You were always beautiful, but this place . . .” He took in the walls and rafters before settling back on me. “It must make you happy because you are a stunning woman. Your life here . . . it suits you.”

  I opened my mouth to speak but stumbled over the words, like Hugh Grant in, well, just about every movie the man has ever made. After taking my time—and a few deep breaths—my wits returned. “I’m sure you’ll want to see Jeremiah soon, but you’ll have to give me some time to talk to him first, Len. I haven’t prepared him yet.”

  Confusion, or something like it, flickered in his eyes. “You did get my letter?”

  “I did.”

  “But you didn’t know if you could believe in me again.”

  I couldn’t meet his gaze, not because he made my heart flutter the way he once had, but because his assumption was dead on. I didn’t trust him and wasn’t sure if I ever could again. Guilt poured over me at the realization, so I forced myself to return his gaze. He had traveled all this way and stood here now with sad eyes, repentant as ever. Wasn’t I called to forgive and forget?

  And yet how could I forget what he had done to me? To Jer? To . . . us?

  Letty reappeared and cleared her throat. “I am going to lunch. Feel free to do the same.”

  At her assuring nod, gratitude welled within me.

  Len took a step toward me. “Maybe we should go somewhere and talk.”

  “Sure, okay.” I hugged myself with my arms. “How’d you get here?”

  He stuck a thumb into the air.

  “I see. No problem, then. Let’s take my car.” I glanced at Timo who watched us with curiosity. “Be back in about an hour.”

  He shrugged as if he couldn’t care less. “Yeah.”

  Outside, the sun’s light did little to warm me. I unlocked both car doors and got in, wishing I’d remembered my sweater.

  “You seem nervous.”

  “Buckle up.” I flicked my chin his direction and waited. He watched me with brown eyes that used to mesmerize me to the point of complete absorption. We made it to the edge of the drive, listening to the engine rumble, while I contemplated entering the highway. I studied him. “This is weird, Len, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  He reached over and placed a hand on my arm as I held on to the steering wheel. “We can go anywhere you choose. You pick.”

  I wrenched my arm from him, then regretted it. “Not that. I’m not even hungry.” I switched off the engine, sat back against the driver’s seat, and took him in. “What are you doing here? You do remember the things you said, right? How our marriage was one big headache? How you took up criminal activity because of all my needs?”

  Len also sat back, and a frown tugged at his mouth. He lifted his chin and stared at the ceiling of my car, his blond hair grazing the seat rest. “Remember after you learned to drive, after I taught you by letting you take my car up and down the parking lot of that old drive-in movie theater?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He touched my arm once more, and this time I kept from flinching. “I want to see your face like that again. Your mom had died and your dad was getting sick, and even though we got you your permit, you were too scared to get out on the road and practice. So I took you to the lot early in the morning and late at night, and you parallel parked and made three-point turns until you almost puked.”

  A guffaw scraped out of me.

  His smile returned. “Yeah, you know it’s true. And that’s why I came back here. To make amends and see you happy like that again. And also because I want to see my boy. I need to see him, Suzanna.” He dropped his chin forward. “I regret what has happened.”

  “I know you do.” A million reasons to push him out of my car and onto the busy highway volleyed in my mind, but I tossed them all into a net, wrapped them up, and shoved them from view. I’d been given a chance to start again here in Otter Bay, so who was I to deny Len his own second chance? Despite a slight lurch of my insides, I stuck my key in the ignition to start the car back up when Len’s phone rang.

  He scowled at the screen and gave me a sympathetic look. “Sorry. Mind if I take it?” He paused and held up the phone so I could see. “Parole officer.”

  I sat back. “Of course, no problem.”

  He slipped out and shut the door while I waited, trying not to eavesdrop. I turned my attention west to where the sea had turned inky blue, waves lapping against a distant rickety pier th
at reached a spiny finger into the deep.

  Mr. Hearst’s famous guests often arrived by boat and disembarked on that very pier before loading into a fancy car that would take them up the narrow road to the castle. I imagined them dressed in their finery, excited as they crested the hilltop, leaving their private worlds behind.

  Sometimes, I envied them more than I cared to admit. What would it be like to be whisked away on a yacht to the lavish castle in the sky?

  Len opened the car door and slid into his seat. “Sorry about that, Suz. He was all over me about staying in touch, but I couldn’t get a signal before.”

  “Oh, I know. Cell service is spotty here. Sometimes I have to drive over to the public doggy run to pick up a signal. Even the Golden State can’t quite get service everywhere.”

  He shrugged. “No big. He’s good. I’m good.” He laughed, showing off his signature white teeth, which made his skin tone all the more sallow. “We’re all good.”

  I turned my key in the ignition. “I thought your parole officer was a woman.”

  “What?”

  “I know she called the preschool, Len.” I pointed the car south. “Scared the daylights out of the staff. You know, she didn’t need to do that. It’s not like I would keep Jeremiah from seeing his father.”

  He relaxed against the seat. “Oh, that. She’s my parole officer’s secretary, and she was only verifying what I’d told her. They have this thing in the prisons about not trusting the word of inmates.”

  “Hmm. I can’t imagine.”

  He smiled. “You’ve changed, Suz. Really. Stronger than I’ve ever seen you.” He paused. “Good to see it.”

  Taking responsibility for that? I shook off the ornery thought and glanced in the rearview mirror at the pier, watching it shrink as our car took us south. A flock of pelicans flew over it in a V-shaped formation. I really needed to spend more time over there . . .

  “So, where are we headed?”

  “Little Mexican hole in the wall. Nice views, plus they’ve got the hottest salsa around. Not to mention, the place is outside of Otter Bay.

  In the quiet, I turned to see him staring. “You remembered.” He shook his head. Was that remorse on his face? “The salsa they give you in jail tastes like ketchup with some chili powder thrown in. It’s disgusting. Thanks for thinking of me.”

  I swallowed and accelerated down the highway, as confused now as on the day when the truth came out about all of Len’s illegal activities. Truthfully, I had suspected him—maybe not of selling drugs but doing something he should not have been doing. We had too much money beyond his wages. And then at other times, it seemed, we had none at all.

  I pulled into the restaurant parking lot, about to have lunch with my ex-husband. Could a person truly be reformed? And what should my response be?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “When are you planning to talk to him?” Gage hadn’t looked at his menu since Mimi handed it to him.

  I gave my brother a hard stare, warning him, and then glanced at Jeremiah who smeared more butter on a cracker than it could hold. “Soon. Before bed, I think.”

  Gage pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to the menu, although I doubted he read it. It occurred to me that another word for protective was worrywart. My brother’s reaction to everything Len made me rethink myself over and over.

  I sighed. Second meal out today. For a girl who liked to cook, I’d spent a lot of time at the mercy of someone else’s kitchen lately. If Gage hadn’t suggested we meet up at the Red Abalone Grill tonight, I would have been satisfied with a tall glass of milk and a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich at home. Tired did not begin to describe my feelings at the end of this long day.

  “So what are you going to say?” My brother raised his head again to pepper me with questions.

  My eyes widened in response.

  Gage took in Jer, who played with a pile of crumbs on the Formica table. He shook his head and waved a hand. “Never mind. I know you’ve got it under control. Just wish . . .”

  “What do you wish?”

  “I wish the guy would just go away.”

  Although that would make life less complicated, I held out hope for Len. He said he’d spent hours and hours alone, giving him much time to rethink all he had done to mess up our lives. He said he wanted to prove to me that he had faced down his demons—well, not in those exact words—but he did say he asked God for a clean slate, and one had been granted him. So what if a niggle of doubt crawled through me like an elusive itch? Did I really want to miss being a witness to a God-directed change in Len’s life?

  A gust of wind brought Mimi to our table. “How we all doin’ tonight? I see you brought your hungry fella in here again. How are you, Mister Jeremiah?”

  “I’m. Good!” He nodded his head once with each word.

  “Great!” She turned to me. “So what’ll you have tonight?”

  I handed her my menu. “Just a salad and a roll for me.”

  “And for your growing boy here?”

  I nudged Jer, encouraging him to answer for himself. He stuck his forefinger up his nose, as if it helped him think, and I dragged his hand away. “I will have the . . . the chicken fingers!”

  Gage gave Mimi a teasing wink and looked at his nephew. “I don’t think chickens have fingers, do they Jer?” He glanced at Mimi. “He’ll have the chicken feathers instead.”

  Jer giggled and held up one pudgy hand like a stop sign. “No! Wait! I want the chicken head. Yeah, that’s right!” Again with the dramatic head nodding. “Chicken.” Nod. “Head.” Nod.

  Gage plopped Jer on his flyaway hair with the menu before handing it to Mimi. “I’ll have my usual turkey burger with green chili, and Callie will be here soon. She’ll have the turkey club.”

  With a giddy grin on her face, Mimi stuffed the menus under her arm, saluted, and padded away to place our order with the cook.

  I flopped against the booth and laughed. “Oh, it’s always so much fun to go out with two four-year-olds. Seriously, I think I just got my second wind.”

  Jer kicked the bottom of the booth with the back of his solid rubber heels more than once, making my shoulders cringe each time. “Nu-uh. Uncle Gage isn’t four, he’s old!”

  “Is that right?” Gage acted incensed, crossing his arms on the table and giving my son a what-for look. I relaxed, glad to talk about something—anything—other than how I’d be handling my bedtime chat with Jeremiah about his father.

  Callie slid in next to Gage, threw an arm around him, and kissed his cheek. As usual, she looked fresh from a run or some other exhilarating activity. “Hi, all. What’d I miss?”

  Gage and I exchanged a glance, and then I shook my head. “Your boyfriend ordered a chicken head for my son, so I guess you really didn’t miss all that much.”

  Callie rolled her eyes toward Gage, as if searching for confirmation.

  “Yeah, he did order me a chicken head. Bawk-bawk.” Jer jogged his head up and down, and I made the decision right then to request that he not be given so much fruit punch at school.

  Callie reached across the table and squeezed Jeremiah’s hand. “If you don’t like it, you are welcome to have some of Uncle Gage’s burger. I’ll even sneak some of his fries for you, ’kay?”

  Jer wrinkled his nose and gave a shout. “’Kay!”

  I winced, but Callie winked in my direction and leaned forward. “Maybe some protein and warm milk will do the trick.”

  “Hope so,” I whispered.

  Gage stared off into nowhere, like he’d fallen back onto his earlier worries. If Callie noticed, she didn’t make it a big deal. Instead, she continued to engage Jer in conversation. “So how about you coming over soon to play with Moondoggy? He misses you, buddy. We could give him a walk out on the Kitteridge property, you and I. Wanna?”

  Jer gasped, eyes wide, mouth open, and dug his little hands into mine. “Can I, Mama? Moondoggy wants to see me.”

  I nodded and rubbed the side of his head, re
veling in the downy comfort of his flyaway hair. “Of course. We’ll set it up soon. Maybe even tomorrow, if I end up leaving work early.”

  Callie tore open a packet of crackers. “Short day?”

  “Yes. Fred’s still not able to make it in, so Letty thinks we should wait for him before proceeding too far on our ultra-secret project.”

  Callie shrunk back, her voice teasing. “Oh, my, yes, you wouldn’t want to divulge anything highly classified to me, a commoner.” She chuckled. “Okay, then. When will you know your schedule?”

  My light heart faded. I had forgotten—or pushed out of my mind—Len’s presence a mere few miles from here. Maybe making plans for tomorrow should start with him.

  “Suz?” Callie held a cracker up to her mouth but waited for my answer.

  “Here we are!” Mimi swooped in carrying three dishes. “So sorry, young Jeremiah, but the cook was all sold out of those chicken heads. He hopes you won’t mind these chicken toes instead.”

  Jeremiah let out a dramatic sigh and rubbed his cheek, but a small smile emerged. “O-kay.”

  She slid two more plates onto the table. “Salad and roll for you, Suz. And turkey club for Callie.” Mimi cackled at Gage. “Had to go out and grow some more green chilies. Be back in a sec.”

  I caught Mimi’s eyes. “And could we have some warm milk too?”

  She smiled, her mother’s heart showing. “Already ordered. I’ll bring it my next time around.”

  For the next twenty minutes, our attention turned to food, and except for an occasional camp story from Callie or slurp from Jer, sound from our table stayed at a minimum. Mimi returned with Gage’s meal, waters for all, warm milk for Jer, and without being asked, a sweet and cinnamon-infused chai tea for me. Until a few sips in, I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed the sustenance. True, I had lunch out with Len, but even truer, I’d hardly touched a bite.