A ripple of apprehension spread from her chest. Her business trips would determine the future. If she was a failure…
Helen pulled herself up short. Darn it, she’d done just fine so far, hadn’t she? She had been far braver than she’d ever dreamed she could be. Building sales was slow work. She wouldn’t expect too much, and she wouldn’t let herself get discouraged if the first trip or the second or even the third didn’t yield instant success. Even a few new retail outlets would pay off and gain exposure for Kathleen’s Soaps.
Alec did manage to give her a few brief but thorough kisses at intervals as they toured the fair, which spread out over what seemed a mile or more of street.
When he eventually left her back at the booth, it was after extracting a promise that she would have dinner with him Monday night. Tuesday morning she and Ginny would set out on their great expedition.
Helen made a vow to herself: tomorrow night, she would tell him that marriage wasn’t in the cards for her. She had to. She wasn’t being fair, letting him think she might be interested in more than she was.
And maybe, setting ground rules now would be smart for her, too. Drifting along the way she had been wasn’t a good idea. Sometimes lately she’d begun to imagine that falling in love didn’t have to be dangerous or selfish.
But she of all people knew better, so she’d get it out in the open. She owed both of them that much.
HE COULDN’T LEAVE the house these days without Devlin picking a fight. His son twirled on the bar stool to face him when Alec paused at the kitchen door to say he was leaving. Despite the lengthy showers, Dev’s blond hair looked lank and greasy. In a black T-shirt, Alec’s son looked older than fourteen, and somehow dangerous. He was the kind a store clerk would watch carefully.
The usual sneer curled his mouth. “Jeez, you can’t go a day without seeing her?”
Tension throbbed in Alec’s temples. “Helen is leaving town tomorrow on a business trip. She’ll be away for almost a week.”
“You’d probably go with her, if you trusted me to baby-sit.” He said the last as if it were a curse.
“That’s mean!” his sister said, from in front of the refrigerator. She’d been peering inside, but now glared at Devlin. “Like you have to do anything!”
“I have to stay home, don’t I?” he all but snarled. “I have to make sure you don’t watch scary movies.” His tone became viciously solicitous. “Or you might cry yourself to sleep.”
Her lip trembled before she whirled to stare steadfastly into the refrigerator.
Not usually a violent man, Alec felt his hands ball into fists. His voice grated. “I didn’t raise you to mock other people for their fears. Lashing out at your sister because you’re mad at me is beneath you.”
A mask closed over Devlin’s face. His posture radiated cold indifference. “Who says I’m mad at you? I don’t care if you want to spend every night with your girlfriend. As long as you don’t marry her, what’s the big deal?”
“And if I do decide to marry her?”
His son looked at him with those hate-filled eyes. “She’s not taking Mom’s place.” He spun again, all the way around, then jumped from the stool and sauntered out, bumping Alec on the way hard enough to hurt.
“Oops,” he said, and took the stairs two at a time. The slam of his bedroom door had barely quit vibrating the pictures on the walls before the monotonous bass of his music took over.
Damn. Stomach knotted, Alec stayed in the kitchen doorway, torn by indecision. How could he leave Lily alone with Devlin after that display? But he hated to cancel on Helen when she’d be away for a week.
His daughter closed the fridge door and faced him. Her shoulders were squared, and he saw on her face that she had read his mind.
“It’s okay, Daddy. Dev’s actually not that bad when you aren’t home. Anyway—” she shrugged “—if he stays up there I’ll just watch a movie or something. You know, I’m old enough to baby-sit. Mrs. Byrd down at the corner asked me the other day. Only you weren’t home, so I couldn’t.”
“Baby-sit?” he echoed.
“I’m almost twelve. She pays three dollars an hour, and Will is really sweet. She just wants me, like, when she goes to the grocery store or something. Usually when he naps, she said. Not for hours and hours.”
“Oh.” She was growing up. Look how calmly she was distracting him.
“Can I?”
“Baby-sit?”
Unlike Dev, she did not roll her eyes. “Just during the day?”
“Uh, I don’t see why not.”
She was responsible. Hell, face it, she was more responsible than her brother. He wasn’t altogether sure who was in charge of whom, but Alec knew which of his kids he trusted more.
“I won’t be late,” he promised, and held out his arms.
She catapulted into them, letting him know she’d been more upset by her brother’s outburst than she had let on. She hugged him fiercely, then pulled back. “I think Helen is nice, Daddy. Don’t listen to him.”
“Despite what I said, Helen and I haven’t talked about getting married. It’s not time for that yet.”
“Is it?” Her expression was entirely too adult. “You really like her, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I do.”
“Before she died,” Lily said unexpectedly, “Mommy told me she hoped you would marry again someday. So you wouldn’t be lonely. And ’cuz she thought Dev and I needed a mom.”
Linda had said the same to him, but he hadn’t listened. He’d gripped her hand and fought tears. “I won’t have to. You’re not dying, Linda. You’re not.”
He still remembered her steady gaze and his sudden realization that he was crushing her hand.
“I want you to,” she’d whispered, before closing her eyes and drifting into sleep, effectively preventing him from further argument.
She had died just two days later, without saying any more. Since remarriage was the last thing on his mind then or anytime in the past two years, he hadn’t thought more about what she’d said except as an example of how generous her love for him and the kids had been.
But he was grateful now that she had given him her blessing. He didn’t want to have to agonize over how Linda would feel about a usurper. The troubled family she had left behind had enough worries.
“Did she say that to Dev?” Alec asked.
His daughter’s brow knitted. “I don’t remember if he was there. But I don’t think so. I don’t know if she talked to him.”
God. He wished she had. He wished she could now. She wouldn’t recognize her own son in the punk who’d shouldered past his father tonight.
He kissed Lily and promised again not to be late.
He and Helen had decided on pizza tonight. She was leaving early, had spent the day packing, and didn’t want to have to dress up. As far as he was concerned, she looked just as good in shorts, sandals and a T-shirt as she did in her more elegant outfits. Her legs were long, slim and faintly golden, her feet charmingly sturdy in what appeared to be Birkenstocks. Tonight her hair seemed to want to slip out of its habitual ponytail. She tugged irritably at it as they went down the front steps.
“Darn it, Emma talked me into trying one of her scrunchies instead of a ponytail holder. They work fine, she said.”
The weight of her auburn hair was definitely defying the black cloth circlet. He wondered if she had any idea how beautiful it was.
“Maybe it feels the way you would if you wore a corset most of the time. It’s slumping in relief.”
“You’re a big help.”
He laughed. “You about ready for the great adventure?”
“Oh, getting there.” Helen sighed and cast a look at her aged car as they walked past it. “I wish the air-conditioning worked better. What do you bet it picks this week to give up the ghost?”
Alec frowned at her Escort. “I forgot the shape your car is in. That’s a lot of miles to put on it. What if you break down somewhere between Y
akima and the Tri-Cities?”
She patted her purse. “I have a cell phone. I’ll call a tow truck. Besides, my car has always been reliable. I had the oil changed, the tires checked and rotated, and the window-washing fluid refilled. We’re ready for anything.”
He didn’t like to think of her on a long trip in that heap of junk. He unlocked the Mercedes. “If you’re going to be doing much of this kind of traveling, you’ll need a new car.”
“I’m hoping for a couple more years from this one.”
“You won’t get ’em if you’re flitting off to Portland and Boise every other week.” He held open the passenger door for her.
She crossed her arms and made no move to get in. “You’re not lifting my spirits.”
“Can’t I worry about you?”
Her expression softened. “I suppose so.”
Alec kissed her lightly. “I’ll shut up. I promise.”
They went to Pagliacci’s on Broadway, sipped soda pops and talked. Mostly about her forthcoming trip, her decision to take Ginny, and her realization that she’d never been separated from her daughter overnight.
Halfway through dinner Alec excused himself, pulled out his cell phone and dialed home. He hoped like hell Dev didn’t answer. Lily wasn’t allowed to.
He got the answering machine. “Hi, kids. Just checking in. Lily, can you pick up?”
She did. “Hi, Daddy.”
Aware of Helen across the table, he asked, “You okay?”
“Sure.” Lily’s answer was light, as if she’d forgotten the earlier scene. “I’m reading.”
“Dev?”
“He came down a while ago. I told him he was a jerk, and he said, yeah, he guessed he could be sometimes. That it’s not my fault he has to stay home when his friends are all hanging out somewhere.”
An apology, of sorts. “Good,” Alec said. “All right. Just checking. I have my cell phone on.”
“You always say that.”
“Sorry. I worry.”
When he clipped his phone back on his belt, Helen said, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Devlin and I had it out earlier.” He gave a crooked smile. “For the ten thousandth time.”
Her face creased with compassion. “I’m sorry.”
“One of these days, I have to figure out what the real problem is.” He managed a grin. “Besides hormones.”
“And me?”
“The idea of anyone taking his mother’s place upsets him,” Alec conceded.
She looked more bothered than he had expected. “But you’ve assured him I’m not?”
“I’m afraid tonight I got mad and said, ‘So what if I do marry her?’ That’s when the you-know-what really hit the fan.” He realized he was watching her carefully, wanting to know how she’d react to the word: marry. Him and her.
A shadow scudded across her face, a look he didn’t understand. A second later her expression had become serene. She straightened in her chair, squared her shoulders and said firmly, “Then he’ll be comforted to know that you’re dating a widow who has no intention of remarrying. Feel free to tell him.”
He felt as if she’d just bodychecked him more effectively than his son had. Stunned, he said, “You mean that?”
“Yes, I think so.” She didn’t quite want to meet his eyes. “People tell me someday I’ll change my mind, but…I can’t imagine. It hurt losing Ben. I don’t want to go through that again. I learned things about myself, too. Things that…” For the first time she faltered. “That make me believe it wouldn’t be fair of me to marry again.”
Things? What in God’s name was she talking about?
“You’d rather be alone?”
She laughed merrily. He didn’t buy it.
“Alone? I’m never alone! You’ve heard me complain!”
“Ginny will grow up,” Alec said brutally. “Leave home. You won’t live with Kathleen and Logan forever.”
Her gaze met his at last, her expression apologetic, as if she saw in his reaction that he had been thinking, at least distantly, of marriage. “No, but I hope I’ll always have friends.”
Things? He couldn’t leave it. Had she been unfaithful? She seemed the soul of integrity.
Or had she disliked sex, felt she’d failed her husband somehow? Alec couldn’t imagine that, either, having felt her melt in his arms and heard the faint moan when he broke off a kiss.
He shook his head. “I can’t believe you were anything but a wonderful wife. Would he tell me different, if Ben were here?”
Pain flared in her eyes. “I don’t know. I pray…” She swallowed hard. “Please, can we talk about something else? No.” She reached blindly beneath the table for her purse. “I really should get home and finish packing. If you don’t mind.”
He stood when she did, and they walked silently the two blocks to the car. Not until they were on Roosevelt Way heading north did she say, “I’m sorry if I took you by surprise. If you were thinking…”
“Thinking?” He raised his brows, hoping the expression didn’t appear as affected as it was. “I hadn’t gotten that far. We’ve never discussed how either of us felt about remarriage. God knows, with kids it’s problematic.”
“Yes,” she said. “I thought it might be good if you could allay Devlin’s fears.”
He chuckled. “You mean, instead of threatening him?”
She smiled. He was more convincing than he’d thought. “Something like that.”
In front of her house—Kathleen’s house—Helen touched his arm. “You don’t have to park. I’ll just hop out.”
They ended the evening with a peck on the lips and her promise to drive carefully next week and to call as soon as she got back.
She hesitated, gave him a last, curiously desperate look, and jumped out. Halfway up the steps to the house, she waved, and he drove away.
On the way home, he used his turn signals, checked the mirrors when appropriate and obeyed speed limits. He did it all as if he were having an out-of-body experience. He knew the sensation: it was shock. He’d felt as peculiar several times—when his wife was diagnosed, when she died and when he had his heart attack.
Funny, he hadn’t known how serious he was becoming about Helen Schaefer until she dropped her bombshell. In the back of his mind had been the idea of her in his home, his bed. Of her making the kitchen a warm, loving room again. Guiding Lily through adolescence, softening Devlin’s inexplicable anger. Giving Alec a solid center to his life again. Something—someone—to hold on to.
Safely in the garage at home with the door shut, Alec turned off the car, but sat unmoving for a long while.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE WEEK ALONE with Ginny was a delight. Helen didn’t regret taking her for one minute. Ginny chattered happily but not too much, and craned her neck to look at the dry ski hills and empty lifts as they drove over Snoqualmie Pass.
At the first couple of stores in Ellensburg, Ginny waited in the car. But the day was hot, Helen didn’t like leaving the engine running, and at the third store, she said, “Come with me this time, but let me do the talking, okay?”
Ginny gave her a wounded look. Helen pretended not to notice.
The owner of the small gift shop thought it was wonderful that Helen had brought her daughter on a business trip. “Mine,” she said, “is asleep in the playpen in the back. That’s partly why I opened my own business. I didn’t want my kids to be in day care from eight to six.”
Helen had left samples with the previous two shop owners, but this store was one she really wanted to have sell Kathleen’s Soaps. A wonderful conglomeration of antiques, local crafts, garden art and kitchen goods crowded shelves and walls and spilled onto the floor. Concrete cats sat beneath bins of aprons. Silk flowers leaned artlessly from ceramic crocks, and dried herb wreaths scented the air. A real cat crouched on the counter next to the cash register, his unblinking gaze fixed on Ginny.
The owner was a short, plump woman who admitted to being an ex-employee of H&R Block.
Now long, thick hair was carelessly confined with a pencil stabbed through the bun, and she wore a fuchsia print apron over jeans and a T-shirt. She told Helen, “I love having my own business!”
She sniffed the soap samples, took a bar to the bathroom and worked up a lather, then discussed prices and discounts. “I’ll give it a try,” she decided.
“How wonderful! I have enough in the trunk to get you started. We keep adding new products and scents, and you can decide which is appropriate for your store.”
The cat, a fat Russian Blue, decided to let Ginny pet her, and the shop owner heard all about Ginny’s cat, Pirate, and how they’d found him as a kitten with one eye hanging out.
“We don’t know if he can see out of it,” Ginny said, “’cuz he won’t read an eye chart, but it doesn’t matter. We love him no matter what.”
Helen and Ginny had decided to spend the afternoon in Ellensburg and then drive on to Yakima, where they’d booked a room in a B and B. Helen had used the Internet and phone books at the library to research businesses she wanted to approach, but she asked her hostess to recommend others.
She struck pay dirt almost immediately. A fruit stand/antique and gift store right next to the freeway had been looking for a new line of soaps, and she unloaded more from the trunk of her car. Others in town promised to think about it.
Ginny was awed by the Columbia River and the bleak, volcanic landscape. Irrigated orchards and wineries turned vast stretches green against a brown backdrop. The wind turbines Alec had talked about whirled endlessly on high ridges. Helen wondered if his company had made any of these.
They spent an entire day in the Tri-Cities and a morning in Walla Walla, a college town and county seat made famous by the massacre of the missionary Marcus Whitman and his wife. They visited nineteenth-century Fort Walla Walla and peeked into log cabins, a tiny one-room schoolhouse and a jail. Helen’s pleasure was in watching Ginny tour the museum, carefully reading every placard, staring wide-eyed at corsets and old-fashioned children’s clothes, wagons, a spinning wheel and a butter churn.
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