He motioned to the opposite bench. “Then sit down and I’ll spill my guts.”
My gaze switched to the distant studio. Letty would be pacing, watching the clock by now.
Len came around the bench to stand beside me. “I get it. You have to go back to work. I can respect that.” He offered his hand. “C’mon. I’ll tell you all about it on the way down.”
For the next several minutes, I listened as Len spoke about the chaplain who wouldn’t give up on him. The man’s visits were relentless, apparently, and in Len’s words, “He prayed me into the Kingdom.” He was there for Len when the parole board considered his release and helped him purchase a ticket to fly all the way out here to reconnect with his family.
I flipped him a brief smile. “Guess I owe him a thank you.” I would not soon forget the pure happiness on Jer’s face when he saw his father again.
As we stepped and slid down the rocky hill, I lost my footing more than once and stumbled into Len. I never fell, and by the time we reached the level area behind the studio, my annoyance had vanished. Maybe I’d been too hard on him, judging the new Len by what the old Len had done. I flashed on the two women outside of Jeremiah’s Sunday school class. They chattered blithely about divorce, indifferent to those around them, and I shuddered recalling how their judgment felt.
Len was trying to show me he had changed. Was my doubt standing in the way of his spiritual progress?
We reached the back door to the studio just as Fred appeared.
“Well, hullo there, dear Suzanna.” My boss smiled in that cherry-cheeked way of his, no sign of illness on him.
“Fred, you’re here!” I gave him a hug, and he blushed. “Good to see you. I’d like you to meet Len, Jeremiah’s father.”
They shook hands, Fred’s mouth no longer smiling but pursed, like he suddenly had something on his mind. “Good to meet you.” He turned to me. “You coming in, Suzi-Q?”
I nodded. “Sure thing. If I don’t get back to the door project soon, Letty’ll mount my head on it.”
He chuckled, entered the studio, and held the door open for me. He directed a congenial smile at Len. “You know the way down from here?”
Len nodded, then looked to me. “Are we done?”
Fred stayed in place, waiting patiently and holding that door. I held up my hand with the shoes dangling from them. “Thanks for returning Jer’s sandals. I’ll call you about setting up a schedule for visitation.”
He chucked my chin with his fingers. “Aw, we’re going to be as formal as all that?”
His words sounded light, but the disappointment in his face threw me. I hesitated. “I’ll call. Promise.”
After he’d gone, Fred and I weaved our way slowly through the studio. “I didn’t want to ask in front of Len, but did you enjoy your weekend at the cabin? Were the accommodations to your liking?”
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a dream, Fred. I can’t thank you enough for allowing us to stay. Oh, and I worked up more drawings and would love to show them to you and Sherry, when you’re ready.”
“Did you happen to bring them?”
Letty appeared before I could answer. “Fabulous. You are here. I was about to pull on my hiking boots and break up your little love nest out there.”
Fred frowned. “Is that what I did, Suzi-Q?”
I blinked. “What? No.” I threw a daggered gaze at Letty. “Please.”
My boss stood between Letty and me. “Before I forget, the missus and I will be touring some restored areas of the castle in about a half hour. Why don’t you join us, Suz—and bring along those drawings of yours. Can you do it today?”
I kept my eyes from Letty’s face. “Uh, sure. I signed Jer up for after-school care, so that should be fine. If Letty doesn’t mind me flaking on the door again, that is.”
Letty only shrugged, her warm skin turning pink.
My brow furrowed. “Wait!”
Two sets of eyes focused on me.
“Can Letty join us?”
Fred appeared startled, and a look of dawning crossed his face. “If she’d like, then she is welcome.”
“Oh, she would like.”
Letty grimaced. “She is right here.”
Fred peeked at her over his glasses. “If you’re ready to tear yourself away from the door project, then you may certainly come with us today, Leticia.”
“I would like that.”
“Good.” He glanced at us both and offered a salute. “Sherry and I will meet you outside in one half hour.”
On my previous journey to Hearst Castle I rode in the back of a commercial van with carefree college students—while hiding from Seth. Today could not be more different. Although that last predicament had been altogether strange and funny, I remembered the day as bright and beautiful. Today, dark clouds formed on the horizon, threatening to blow one way or the other, and I guessed they’d head in our direction about the time we arrived for a stroll around the Neptune Pool. The outdoor pool, of course.
“Of all the days!” Inside the car, Sherry pulled the collar of her wool coat tighter around her neck. “The morning held so much promise too.”
Fred sniffed the air through an open slit of a window. “Doesn’t smell like rain, though. Probably just a gray day.” He turned to his wife. “Glad I have you to look at. Like a rainbow against the blah.”
Sherry tittered. “Such a charmer.” She turned from her seat up front. “The man has poetry in his soul that just leaks out everywhere. Find yourself one like this, girls, and you will never be bored.”
I held back my laughter while Letty kept her face still like stone. “You are one lucky woman, Sherry.” Did Letty’s eyes just flip upward ever so slightly?
“Here we are!” Despite the drop in temperature, Sherry’s excitement at visiting the castle overwhelmed her desire for a brighter day. “Where’s Clem?”
Letty and I unlatched our seat belts as Fred patted Sherry’s hand. “He’ll be here. His car died this morning so he’s getting a ride up with a worker.” Fred turned to us. “You ladies probably remember him. Tall guy . . . runs the window-cleaning business . . .”
“Seth?”
He snapped his fingers. “Seth. That’s him. Clem called to say that Seth would be driving him up in his truck.” He craned a look out through the windshield. “Thought they might have made it up by now, though.”
The rumble of engine and crackling of driveway arrived on cue. Through the window I caught a glimpse of Seth’s face behind the steering wheel of his work truck, his smile congenial as his passenger carried on about something. His eyes, though, bore straight ahead, as if lost or thinking some far-off thought.
I opened the car door and stepped out. Whatever had captured Seth’s attention vanished and when he smiled at me, it reached his eyes.
Clem hopped out of the car, ducking from a day that had turned blustery. He greeted us all quickly and then led the way up the stairs. Fred, Sherry, and Letty followed him while I stayed behind.
Seth hung back too and leaned against the passenger side of his truck, both hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans. He’d changed into a nubby plaid shirt but still shivered against the swirl of cold air. The divide between us had grown between the morning and afternoon.
“We didn’t get to finish our conversation.”
He shrugged that one shoulder, never pulling his hands out of his pockets. “No big deal.”
I shifted from one foot to the other and exhaled. “Well, it is a big deal. To me.”
“Why?”
I took two steps closer, then tilted my head. “Because until recently, I’ve been mad at you.”
“At me? Why?” He shoved away from the truck.
“You’ve been ornery and somewhat bitter, more often than not.”
He raised an eyebrow in defiance and took another step forward. “Really.”
I straightened my shoulders and walked right up to him, swallowing the heady sense his closeness brought. “
Really. But now you’re not and I understand why. I misjudged you. And I’m sorry about that.”
A tiny smile pulled at his mouth. “So you say terrible things about me, then offer me a ‘sorry about that’ and it’s supposed to be all better?”
I paused. “Yes.”
He shrugged, but this time with both shoulders. “Well, okay then.”
At this moment Seth resembled the man—or rather, the boy—I once knew. The stress lines I’d noticed earlier, the ones that tightened his eyes, had softened and lengthened as if molded by laughter. I longed to reach up and brush away the tendril of hair that stroked his temple and threatened to hide those sea green eyes of his. And when had he begun to grow out his hair again?
“Did everything work out with the ex?” His forehead shifted and his eyes narrowed a fraction.
“Yes. Fine. Sorry he interrupted us.”
He pulled one hand out of his pocket and raised it, allowing it to hover in indecision before awkwardly laying it on my shoulder. “Would you have preferred that I stayed? If you would have let me know in some way, I would have . . .”
“Would have what?”
“Stuck around. Looked like you two had some things to discuss, so I left.”
I reached up to my shoulder and placed my hand over his. “He’s Jer’s father, and until recently, I didn’t think he’d be a part of his son’s life.” I released a deep breath. “Lots to decide now.”
“Complicated?”
I shrugged. “I don’t want to put it that way. Jer and I have done better on our own than I expected. Well, thanks to my brother. It wasn’t my plan to shut out Jer’s father; he managed to do that all by himself.”
Seth’s brow furrowed. “You’ve never told me what happened between you two.”
I tilted my head to one side. How had I not told Seth about Len’s incarceration? If I blurted out the whole unseemly story now, every negative thought Seth had about Len would set like concrete. Did I need to dredge it all back up again, especially with Len’s newfound faith growing on baby legs? And what about Jer? Older kids back home teased him mercilessly about having a jailbird for a daddy. Thankfully at that age, he hadn’t a clue how deep those claws dug.
I glanced away, waffling. “Like I said once before, he wanted out, and I had no choice but to let him go.”
“And now?” Seth’s eyes searched my face, my skin searing from the intensity.
“Now . . . what?”
“What’s happening between you two now?”
“We’re trying to figure out the whole single-parenting thing.” I rubbed my face, a gust of wind tugging at my hair. “It’s not easy.”
“Might be, if you took him back.”
My chin jerked up and I stepped backward, stifling a gasp. My heel landed on uneven pavement but Seth reached out and caught me, one warm hand a support to my lower back.
His mouth moved stunningly close to mine. “Just saying that the guy obviously wants you back, Suz. He’s trying to make you see how tough it is out here alone.”
I pulled out of his grasp. “We can make it just fine.”
And yet I knew that Seth, like Letty before him, had only spoken what he’d witnessed. Len had said as much in the letter he sent from prison, only I’d chosen to ignore that sentiment and stick with the safer one about wanting to be a good father to Jeremiah.
Accepting Len as a parent to our son I could handle. Anything more, I could not.
Seth held me steady with one long stare. “Is that what you want, Suz? To be alone?”
A sudden thought, clear as a cerulean sky after a windswept day, produced a catch in my throat that made it difficult to breathe. I dropped my gaze to the ground, afraid of what my eyes might reveal.
No . . . I want you.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“There you are.” Letty stood at the top of marble inlaid steps, both hands in the air, her face animated. “You are missing out.”
Seth bent, his lips tickling my ear. “I don’t want you to be alone.” Slowly he removed his hand from my back. “Guess you’d better go.”
I nodded, still unable to look at him, except fleetingly. “I’d better.”
Letty waved me up the steps. “They are waiting for you in the Doge Suite. Have you seen how well the restored ceiling has held up? And the blue drapes are to die for!”
I took the steps two at a time, in step with Letty’s exhilaration.
“Oh, and if only I could find a knockoff of that enormous antique blue perfume bottle—I would only have to fill it once and be set forever!”
Involuntarily, I sniffled.
She slowed to a jog. “Will lover boy be joining us?”
I flinched. “Stop that.”
The joyful smile on Letty’s face disappeared.
“Never mind. Let’s go. Come on.”
She grabbed my arm. “I am sorry I teased you. You know I didn’t mean you any harm.”
Poor Letty had no idea the turmoil racing like a luge through my insides. “Yes, I knew that.”
She stepped up the pace again, her heels clacking against the red brick tile entryway. I followed her, but her speed—and perhaps a touch of that over-the-top enthusiasm—had waned.
By the time we reached Fred and Sherry, we both sounded winded, but a flicker of Letty’s enthusiasm had returned. She spread her arms wide. “Does this room not make you want to immediately board a plane to Venice? Or at least settle in for the night?”
I glanced around, viewing the ornate room a second time. I could appreciate its historical significance and its flagrant Italian roots, but if I were to be honest, it dripped with gaudiness, its furnishings overbearing. Instead of inspired, I imagined a night where ghostly images carrying lanterns drifted by and the heavy bedding became my closest friend.
Sherry and Fred stood before the windowed doors, admiring the attached balcony and the restored wood ceiling that braved the elements day in and day out. “There are many more projects like this one to be handled.”
“Tell me about that, Fred.”
He turned, a smile holding up his cheeks. “They’ll be looking for a project manager soon, someone detail oriented to stay on top of a steady stream of restoration jobs.”
I slid a glance to Letty who had become stoic, her skin paling a little.
“Someone like Letty?”
Fred pressed his lips closed, his fuzzy eyebrows shifting as he squinted against the powdery light pouring into the room. He turned and winked. “Well, now, the cat has been let out of the bag.”
Letty’s eyes popped wide open. “Do you mean you will consider recommending me for the position?”
He grinned. “Who else? Not Suzi-Q, I hope.” He chuckled heartily until it began to sound more like a roar.
My jaw dropped open and Sherry patted me with a motherly “there, there.” I recovered and reached over to give my friend a hug. “Such great news!”
Confusion narrowed Letty’s eyes. “I am honored, Fred, but why haven’t you said anything before this?”
“Frankly, Leticia, I wasn’t sure if you’d take the position even if it was offered to you. You have become the quintessential mother hen of the studio, keeping us on time and organized. I’m convinced you could take over the project manager position.” He peered at her over the top of his spectacles. “Would you?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Very well, then. I’ll make the recommendation. I cannot promise, of course, but I believe you will have a very good chance.”
She held back, but I could tell she wanted to burst from the news. “Thank you, Fred.”
“Before I do, however, I need you on another important project—”
Sherry sidled up next to her husband and poked him in the side with her elbow. He grunted, then looked to me. “So, what do you think of this room, Suz?”
I delayed answering by taking a deep breath and allowing my eyes to flit around, looking at nothing in particular. “Oh, well, it’s so . . . blue .
. . and, uh, historical.”
Letty winced.
Fred only nodded. “And if it were up to you, you would remove the drapes, paint the room in a base color, and let your imagination roam free. Would you agree with that assessment?”
Is this a trick question? I searched the ceiling for just the right word, but oh, to be a wordsmith instead of an artist at a moment like this! “Honestly, Fred. This room is not my style, but you know what? I respect the artistry behind it. Passion shows, I think. I’ve often admired certain works, even when I knew they would never make it to my walls.” I grew bolder. “If asked outright, lots of people would admit they’d never sleep here, but many of those same people if asked whether the room was beautiful, would say, ‘Absolutely, in its own way, it certainly is.’”
Letty cackled. “Pollyanna, you never stop amazing me.”
“I’m just sayin’.”
Sherry nudged Fred again. “Tell her, dear.”
“I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I have decided to move you to part time at the studio. At least temporarily.”
“I . . . I don’t understand.” My mind crunched the numbers, and Jer and I could not survive in California, particularly the West Coast, on a part-time income. “Is it the quality of my work?” I swished a look at Letty. “Has it been subpar?”
Sherry’s head agitated. “Nothing like that, dear. It’s because we have such big plans for your work.” She clapped her hands together. “Big ideas!”
Fred lowered his chin toward his wife. “I take it you’ll be filling her in.”
Sherry slapped him on his shoulder. “First, we want you to take over the painting of the cabin. The whole kit ‘n’ kaboodle. We’ll pay you for your time, of course. And when you are through with that . . .” She caught her breath, her face aglow. “Fred wants you to make over that bleak studio.”
Fred rocked on his heels, his hands folded across his portly belly. “Fred does, does he?”
His wife settled both hands on her waist, her elbows sticking in the air like chicken bones. “Yes, you do. We both understand the outside must look so dull and unremarkable for security, but there’s no reason on earth not to create a veritable showroom inside. No wonder the artists come and go like flies in that depressing place of yours.”
Fade to Blue Page 23
