Reluctant Date

by Sheila Claydon

  “Beth, it’s been a lovely evening but now I’m totally bushed and bed is calling.”

  “Me too,” Scott got to his feet and reached out his hand to pull her up.

  Daniel, who despite all outward appearances, had been acutely aware of Claire the whole time he had been talking to Carl, rose to his feet at the same time.

  “Please don’t go on my account. I’m sorry I intruded on your peaceful evening but I had to discuss a few things with Carl before tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry. We need to call it a day anyway because we’ve got an early start tomorrow. I’m going to introduce Claire to the Suwannee.” Scott spoke for both of them as he handed Claire her sweater.

  Daniel, who had had every intention of showing Claire the wide sweep of the Suwannee River himself, preferably from a small boat and with a picnic for two, quashed the protest that leapt to his throat. Instead he smiled, and in the soft candlelight it looked like a genuine smile.

  “Lucky you. Enjoy yourselves.”

  “Oh we will, be sure of that!” Scott grinned at him, hugged Beth, slapped Carl on the shoulder and then stood back for Claire to precede him down the stairs.

  She managed to thank Beth and Carl for a lovely evening, promise to invite them to a meal at her own apartment as soon as Scott gave her the time to properly settle in, agree that she was looking forward to seeing the Suwannee River, and wish them goodnight, without once giving away her real feelings. Her eyes, when they met Daniel’s, conveyed nothing more than a polite friendliness. Then she was gone, down the stairs and outside.

  Only Scott, following slowly behind her, frowned. He had been sitting close enough to her to see the sudden tension in her face when Daniel first arrived. And because it was so uncharacteristic, he had been surprised, too, by her faltering enthusiasm when she talked about the youth programme they wanted to introduce. Then he had noticed how often she flicked the tiniest glance across to where Daniel sat talking to Carl and he suddenly wondered if there was more going on than he realized. After all she had moved continents to come to Dolphin Key, and Daniel had pulled out all the stops to make it possible. Now he came to think about it, Daniel’s behaviour had been a bit over the top for a new employee. He had organised her work permit and visa, arranged for her to stay in one of his best apartments, and then had driven to the airport to meet her himself despite his huge workload. And although she was good it was not even as if her skills were so exceptional that he couldn’t have found someone similar in Florida. Maybe if he asked her about her interview with Daniel everything would become clear. It was not until they reached the sidewalk and he saw the frozen expression on her face that he decided not to. After all it was nothing to do with him. He didn’t pay the wages. Besides, he had enough emotional problems of his own to deal with; problems that he usually buried in work. And judging by Claire’s performance so far, that was exactly what she was doing as well.

  * * *

  Daniel, meanwhile, was having trouble concentrating on what his brother was saying. It didn’t have anything to do with the subject matter either. Instead it had everything to do with Beth’s throwaway remark as she walked through to the small kitchen to make more coffee.

  “Well that looks like a marriage made in heaven,” she said. “Same interests, same stunning looks, same enthusiasms. Looks like Claire’s going to be a real asset to the organization in more ways than one.”

  * * *

  Later, on his solitary journey home, while Claire was lying sleepless in bed, Daniel reflected bitterly on his sister-in-law’s words. Was Scott really making a play for Claire, and if he was, was he serious, or was he just indulging in one of his occasional flirtations? The thought made him want to punch something, hard. It was bad enough that the Marchant family’s increasingly complicated property portfolio meant that he had to leave Scott running his conservation business more or less singlehanded. If, while he was away, Scott also took over Claire on no more than a whim, then life was going to become even more unbearable.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After a further ten days of hotel rooms and tedious meetings Daniel finally returned to Dolphin Key knowing that, for the time being at least, he had saved the family business from yet another crisis. As he drove off the freeway and pointed his car towards the ocean, all he wanted to do was to change into shorts and a T-shirt and take his boat out to the islands, but he knew if he did that then he would only be putting off the moment when he had to talk to his father. With a sigh he turned towards his parents’ house. Best to get it over with so he could enjoy the weekend.

  He pulled into the driveway and parked next to a golf cart bearing the company logo. He stared at it in surprise. It couldn’t be Beth because she never visited, while Scott only ever dropped by if Daniel’s sisters were home from college, something that wouldn’t be happening again until the summer. Then a new thought struck him and slamming the car door behind him he hurried towards the house. Maybe something was wrong, something that had forced Beth and his father to drop their mutual antipathy. Maybe his mother was ill.

  He found her in the laundry room. She was standing at the deep sink trimming each stalk of a mass of white flowers before placing them one by one into a large crystal vase. Relieved, he watched her from the doorway, noticing how she carefully positioned each one and then stood back to admire the effect. He noticed, too, that she was smiling, and that there was a hint of colour in her cheeks. He felt his heart lift just a little. At least that was one less problem to deal with.

  “They look beautiful,” he said as she pushed the final stem into place. And they did because she had always been able to create wonderful floral displays. Until a few years ago she had taken enormous pride in her skills as a flower arranger. She had loved being responsible for the Flower Rota at the local church and for many years had organized the other members into a disciplined team that provided displays for fundraisers, weddings and celebration dinners; anything that needed flowers.

  Sadly it had all stopped when his father had started to lose his sight and demanded she stay at home to be his eyes, which was why the sight of her smiling over a vase of beautifully arranged flowers had such an uplifting effect on his spirits. It was like a whisper from a happier past.

  She gave a sudden start when she heard his voice, but when she turned and looked at him, the smile was still in place. “Goodness, you startled me Daniel. I didn’t hear you come in. Yes, they do look beautiful don’t they? And she was so clever to include some greenery, especially the sprays of ivy. Without them it would just be a vase of flowers, not a lovely display.”

  “Um…yes, I suppose so,” Daniel was completely indifferent to the niceties of floral decoration.

  To his amazement his mother laughed at him as she cleared away the trimmed stems and the sheets of cellophane the flowers had been wrapped in. “I know I’m boring you, so don’t try to look interested. Would you carry them through to the dining room for me though? They will look wonderful against the dark wood of the table.”

  Picking up the vase he followed her through the kitchen to the formal dining room and placed the display exactly where she told him. Then he waited patiently while she adjusted several of the blooms and tweaked a couple of leaves before asking her if Beth had bought them.

  She turned towards him with wide, puzzled eyes. “Beth? No of course not! You know she won’t come here. It was Claire. She’s in the study reading to your Father.”

  * * *

  Now it was Daniel’s turn to look wide-eyed and, unexpectedly, his mother laughed again when she saw the expression on his face.

  “Apparently she found a copy of some dry-as-dust biography he mentioned when you first brought her to see us, and she dropped it in last week. He was so pleased when she suggested she read it to him. Apparently it’s beyond my intellectual capacity…your Father’s words, not Claire’s!”

  She appeared to be amused rather than offended by her husband’s judgment, or was it relief? Was she relieved t
hat an irksome duty had, for the time being at least, been taken away from her. Daniel stared at her, unable to believe the change that Claire appeared to have wrought in both of his parents while he was away.

  “She’s staying for supper,” his mother added. “Up until now she’s refused but the last time she came I insisted, hence the flowers.”

  “You mean she’s been before?”

  “Oh yes. She reads to him most evenings. She usually only stays for an hour or so but we’ve both begun to look forward to her visit. That’s why I persuaded her to stay for supper tonight. Do you want to join us or are you anxious to get home? I know you’ve had a busy week.”

  Suddenly Daniel’s gray business suit was no longer a hot and irksome restriction. “I’ll stay,” he said, stripping off his jacket and tie and throwing them over the nearest chair.

  “Good. In that case you can carry a jug of lemonade out onto the deck. I made it earlier with crushed ice, so it will be lovely and cold. I’m sure Claire’s throat must have seized up by now. I’ll go and tell her it’s time she stopped reading.”

  As she opened the door into the main part of the house, Daniel heard the soft cadences of Claire’s voice for the first time. He couldn’t hear the words but the intonation was clear. She was reading something that was amusing and his father was chuckling. He looked at his mother. She had heard it too and as the chuckles turned to a full-throated laugh, she met Daniels gaze. Her face was ineffably sad.

  “I wish I could do that! But I can’t. I’ve tried.”

  “I know you have,” he gave her a quick hug. “We all have, but maybe we’re just too close to the problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well Claire doesn’t have any sort of emotional attachment does she? And she loves books too. So maybe she is exactly what he needs; someone who doesn’t remember him as he used to be; someone who likes him for himself and just wants to help.”

  “You could be right,” she nodded doubtfully. “She’s even made him promise to think about trialing the Talking Books Service.”

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Daniel picked up a tray laden with a full jug of lemonade, frosted glasses and a dish of pecans, and carried it out onto the deck, leaving his mother to interrupt the reading session.

  * * *

  Claire, who had thought that Daniel was going to be away from Dolphin Key for at least one more day, flushed pink when she saw him leaning against the railings that edged the deck, a glass of lemonade in one hand and a scoop of pecans in the other. Fortunately for her, however, the sunset had already tinted everything with a matching glow, so her confusion went unnoticed as he tipped the last of the nuts down his throat before leaning forward and handing her a glass of lemonade.

  She took a sip, and then pulled her sunglasses down onto her nose from the top of her head. She had pushed them up there while she was reading but now she was glad that the sunset gave her an excuse to cover her eyes.

  “Hi Dad. Seems that a few things have changed around here while I’ve been away,” Daniel directed his comment to his father with a smile, while his own eyes, similarly hidden behind sunglasses, watched Claire. Dressed in a pale green sundress, and tinted with the rosy glow of the setting sun, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. His body reacted accordingly, pushing his blood pressure up to what felt like a danger zone.

  His father’s reply was short and to the point. “She likes books.”

  “Hmm. Even your dry and dusty ones?”

  “Even those! Now tell me about your trip. Did you achieve everything I wanted?”

  “I did but I’ll talk to you about it later. Right at this moment I think you should concentrate on entertaining your guest. After all she’s put in a full day’s work and then come straight over to read to you, so it’s the least you can do.”

  There was a long silence as a number of expressions, each one blacker than the last, washed across Gordon Marchant’s face. Then it cleared and he nodded.

  “You’re right of course. Sorry young lady. My manners seem to have gotten a little rusty. I haven’t even asked you about your day.”

  Mrs Marchant, whose face had frozen with horror at Daniel’s words, let out a sigh of relief. “Supper in thirty minutes,” she told them as she hurried off to set the table and prepare the last minute vegetables.

  * * *

  The evening was a success on all counts. For the first time since he lost his sight Gordon Marchant concentrated on being a good host, even insisting on choosing the wine to go with the meal. Gone was his previous indifference to what was going on around him. Instead, he complimented his wife on the food, asked Claire about her family and her previous job, talked to Daniel about the boat he was renovating, and was altogether congenial if slightly acerbic company. This had the effect of putting the sparkle back into his wife’s eyes, and by the time dessert was served she had relaxed enough to reminisce about the past when her family was young, and when her husband was making his way in the world.

  Claire heard about the hard times when they had to scrimp and scrape to save enough money for a down payment on their first property. She heard too about their eventual success and how, when they first moved to Dolphin Key, Daniel had often been in trouble for cutting school to row out to the islands long before they became a nature reserve.

  The telling was affectionate enough, as were the tales about Daniel’s older sister who now lived in Texas with her husband and two small children, and his younger twin sisters who were still at college. Yet through it all Claire could detect a note of censure, a reproof, a feeling that they didn’t think any of their children had quite lived up to the standards set for them, that none of them would ever be able to achieve what their father had.

  She also noticed that they never mentioned Carl. Not even once. He didn’t feature in any of the conversations, nor did Beth; so by the time she was ready to leave she was as intrigued about the complicated family dynamics as she was about the other thing that had become clear during the evening; Daniel’s obvious reluctance to talk to his parents about his own company.

  Of more importance, however, was what sitting opposite Daniel was doing to her. Every time his long brown eyes met her gray ones her pulse sped up, and when he leaned across to top up her wine glass, or hand her a plate, or hold a serving dish for her, she felt as if every vein and artery in her body had heated up by several degrees. Worried that he would see how she felt if she looked at him for too long, she spent most of the evening avoiding his gaze and concentrating on his parents instead.

  Frustrated by her behaviour, Daniel wondered if it had anything to do with Scott. If they were involved with one another, then maybe she was embarrassed. He remembered the vehemence with which she had told him she wasn’t looking for any sort of date and decided she was probably feeling uncomfortable about how quickly she had changed her mind. Whatever the reason, he needed to know how things stood. He needed to know whether he had any sort of chance with her. With this in mind he rose to his feet when she stood up to leave.

  “I thought we were going to talk business,” his father said sharply when Daniel wished him goodnight.

  “Tomorrow Dad,” he told him wearily. “I’m going to see Claire home now. I’ll come back early tomorrow morning.”

  “Make sure you do!” Gordon Marchant’s habitual irascibility had risen to the surface again.

  Daniel ignored him, kissed his mother’s cheek, and held the door open for Claire. She thanked her host and hostess, promised to return the following week to continue reading to Mr Marchant, and then walked past Daniel into the magnificent, high-beamed hallway that was full of decorative plants and highly polished wooden furniture. He followed her, inhaling her perfume until he was intoxicated by it, and by the way her hips swayed as she walked in front of him.

  When they stepped onto the gravel driveway she turned and faced him with a determined look on her face.

  “I can manage to get home by myself,” she said. “I don’
t think much is going to happen to me in Dolphin Key at this time of night, do you? I’ve already studied the town’s crime statistics and they are virtually nil. Besides, you would look ridiculous following me in your car at golf cart speed.”

  “I guess I’d look a lot like a stalker,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “Sorry Claire. I forgot you had your golf cart parked outside.”

  Mollified, she grinned back at him. She could manage Daniel when they were surrounded by darkness and his eyes were nothing but black shadows. It was looking at him in daylight that did for her.

  “How was your week anyway? Did you manage to achieve everything you wanted to?”

  He nodded, frustrated by the formality of their conversation even while he acknowledged to himself that it was better than nothing. “Yes thanks. You too?”

  “More or less. Every time I think I’m getting the hang of it, Scott comes up with something else, but we’re beginning to formulate some good plans for the future. We’ll tell you all about them next week, that’s assuming that you’ll have time to come into the office.”

  “I will.” Hearing the warmth in her voice as she referred to Scott he decided that he wasn’t up to questioning her about their relationship after all. He would know how they felt about one another when he saw them together again. Besides, what could he actually say? Are you and Scott and item wasn’t the normal sort of conversation an employer had with a member of his staff. She would be quite within her rights to tell him to mind his own business.

  “I guess it’s goodnight then,” he began to turn away, then a thought that had been niggling at him all evening struck him, and he turned back. He needed to understand why she was prepared to spend so much of her time with his father when she was getting nothing for her pains except an occasional grudging thank you, a thank you that was probably counterbalanced by a lot of personal criticism when her pronunciation or reading style didn’t suit.