Always Florence

by Muriel Jensen

“Too much for Astoria?” She looked doubtfully at her reflection.

  Bobbie went to stand beside her in a red taffeta dress that hugged her waist and skimmed her ankles. It had a V-neck and cap sleeves, simplicity lending it drama. Her hair was growing, she noted in some surprise as she studied herself. Her curls had quieted and the little bit of length gave more volume. She was herself again—not quite the girl in her art school graduation photo, but who wanted to go backward, anyway?

  “There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ for the holidays. Turn around and let’s see the back.”

  Sandy turned dutifully, looking elegant and graceful.

  “It’s exquisite,” Bobbie said, thrilled by a new sense of comfort with herself. She patted her hair. “You think we should use glitter hair spray?”

  Sandy gave her an affectionate shove. “No. You don’t need anything artificial to make you sparkle. You’re in love with Nate, aren’t you?”

  Bobbie drew a deep breath and said it aloud. “I’m in love with Nate.”

  “Does he know?

  “I think so. He just doesn’t know that I know.”

  After giving her a hug, Sandy turned her toward the dressing rooms. “I’m so happy. Let’s go get some lunch, then not eat again until the dance. One rice cracker and I won’t be able to fit into this!”

  * * *

  NATE HOSTED THE last formal meeting of the food bank committee before the highlight event on Saturday. Sandy’s report on the raffle items collected was very impressive, and various subcommittee reports on decorations, menu, entertainment, cleanup and scores of other details showed they were on track and on time.

  Even Sandy seemed a little stunned. Actually, Nate thought, she seemed sedated. Her usually lively personality was nowhere in evidence, though her organizational skills certainly were. He wondered if her behavior had anything to do with Hunter’s sudden call from an important client who needed him across town immediately—just before the meeting began.

  “I didn’t hear your phone ring,” Nate had challenged when his friend said he had to leave. Hunter had shrugged into his jacket. “He texted me,” he said flatly. “Want me to bring pizzas for the office when I come back?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “Your meeting will be over by then, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. See you around twelve-thirty.” And he’d disappeared just as Sandy’s car pulled up.

  Sandy tried to force a smile now. “Well, troops. I think we’ve done it. So, we’ll all be there Friday night to set up....” She turned to Nate. “The painting is gorgeous. You are very impressive as an Old Astoria ship captain.”

  She indicated the picture Bobbie had delivered to Nate the day before. He’d taken down a ship’s wheel that had hung near the conference table and put up Bobbie’s work.

  He turned to look at it. The canvas was almost monochromatic, with the soft gray to dark blue tones of a typical Astoria day in winter. The background was a representation of the Butterfly Fleet, the ship that Nate’s sea captain would have sailed to Astoria, and the piers and canneries along the riverbank. Splashes of red, yellow and orange suggested figures on the pier and others barely visible on the boats.

  What made his heart swell, though, was the figure in the forefront that represented the several hours he’d posed in Bobbie’s workroom. He knew he was not that handsome, didn’t have that much character in his chin or heroic attitude in the angle of his head. There was a longing in his every waking moment, though, that matched the expression in the captain’s eyes as he looked out on the river.

  Bobbie Molloy loved him.

  He tore his eyes from the painting and bowed. “Thank you, thank you. Anything for the team.”

  “I’m sure all those hours spent alone with that pretty artist were hard on you,” Jerry Gold said with a flat smile. “Poor guy.”

  Clarissa, seated next to Jerry, swatted him with her notes. “Leave him alone. We’ve all been in love. Only trouble is that now he’ll never get to meetings on time.”

  Mike Wallis laughed. “Ticket sales are brisk,” he said. “We’ve made several thousand dollars already, and I’m sure sales will increase at the dance when guests can actually see the items in the raffle. The Daily Astorian’s photographs in last Friday’s paper got the buzz going.”

  Sandy heaved a sigh. “Well, we should be proud of ourselves. I think we’re going to pull this off.”

  “You’ve done a superb job,” Clarissa declared. “I think we already have more money than anybody’s ever raised for anything around here. Well done, Sandy.” She began to applaud, and everyone joined her.

  To their astonishment, Sandy closed her folder, snatched up her purse and ran from the room, her chin trembling. There was an awkward moment of silence while everyone stared after her.

  Clarissa cleared her throat and briskly began to pack up. “She’s probably exhausted herself.” Then she grinned around the table. “And you all make me want to burst into tears, too. See everyone Friday night?”

  The group dispersed to go back to their workplaces. Nate walked them to the door and marveled at how generous they were with their time and enthusiasm.

  But what was wrong with Sandy?

  He asked Hunter when he came back with the pizza.

  The girls were eating in the conference room and Nate made a fresh pot of coffee while Hunter scoured the utility drawer for a server.

  “She ran out of here like her heart was broken,” Nate said. Hunter glowered at him. “Just because you’ve been immortalized by the woman you love as a heroic seaman from another age, don’t expect everything to work out for everyone.”

  Okay. So Bobbie’s feelings for him were apparent to everyone. Nate had a hard time mustering any embarrassment about that.

  “What happened?” he asked bravely.

  Hunter slashed him with a look. He was shorter than Nate but beefier, and had Nate been any less sure of his friendship, he’d have withdrawn the question. “Come on.” He grinned. “I’d make kindling of you in a heartbeat.”

  “Raleigh,” Hunter said in complete annoyance. He’d found the server and slammed it on the counter. “It’s my business, okay? I owe you a lot, but not an explanation of my romantic failures.”

  “Failures? She looks at you like she’s waited for you her whole life. Disagreeing on some issue doesn’t make you a failure. What happened?”

  Hunter picked up the utensil, and Nate was afraid for a moment that he was about to be served up in eight pieces. But Hunter simply turned around to lean a hip on the counter and groan in anguish.

  “I have nothing, Nate, to support a family. I have a twelve-year-old car, I live in an apartment and I still owe thirty-two thousand bucks on the credit card I used to buy equipment and outfit my office before I lost it all. She’s serious now. She wants a husband and a father for her girls now. I’m trying to resist getting too serious until I win the lottery or go to Vegas and make a killing.”

  “You think either of those things is likely?”

  “No. But it’s more likely than being able to save enough to marry a family of three.” He looked down at his shoes, morose, defeated. “She doesn’t understand. She makes a fair amount and has health insurance, but it’d take both of us working full-time to cover my bills, too. The girls will soon be in school and they should live in a house with a yard and a swing set.” He looked up at Nate, clearly miserable. “Sandy thinks love will conquer all.”

  Nate was counting on that working for him. He tried to think clearly. “Do you need a raise?”

  Hunter threatened him with the server. “You already pay me more than the big firms pay a CPA. No, I have to find a way out from under the debt I carry from the embezzlement. And I just don’t see that happening except month by month in a tediously slow process. The girls wil
l be teenagers before I’m clear.”

  “Hunter, if she loves you and you love her, you’ll figure it—”

  “No,” he said simply. “I’m not going to let her assume part of my debt.”

  “And she doesn’t get that?”

  He grinned mirthlessly. “Not at all. She figures that means I don’t really love her, and that I don’t want to marry her because I don’t want to take on two little girls.”

  “I suppose you’ve tried to explain how you feel?”

  “You’ve seen her in action. You don’t explain to Sandy. You listen or you comply with whatever it is she wants.” He shook his head and straightened. “Well, she’s not going to win this one. Come on. Let’s go get some of that pizza before Jonni and Karen eat it all.”

  * * *

  ON WEDNESDAY, THERE was an afternoon Christmas musical program at school. Bobbie, Dennis and Stella went together and Nate arrived just before it began.

  Sheamus seemed more interested in the room’s architecture than singing, but Dylan was into it, working his bracelet of bells in accompaniment to the tune. End of the year was exhausting for accountants, but Nate felt grateful to have this pure moment of Christmas cheer.

  After the concert, he hurried to say hello to Stella, shook hands with Dennis and was pleasantly surprised when Bobbie caught his hand.

  “Hi,” she said softly. “I don’t suppose you have time to talk?”

  He glanced at his watch and shook his head apologetically. He’d have done anything to be able to say yes, but he had a call scheduled with the Binghams’ IRS agent, who was beginning to see things their way. “I’m sorry. I’ve got an important date with the IRS in about fifteen minutes. Can we talk tonight?”

  “Sure. You’ve been coming home late the last few nights. End-of-the-year deadlines, huh?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Roberta Louise, have you been spying on me?”

  “Yeah. Just a little.”

  “Well, I’ll be on time tonight.”

  “All right, I’ll see you then. Go, so you’re not late for your call.”

  He wasn’t, and it went well. Nate packed up his briefcase just before five, feeling victorious and really, really satisfied. The IRS had accepted the Binghams’ offer and the reverse mortgage process had begun.

  In a happy mood, he now focused on what it was Bobbie might want to talk about. Still distracted by the thought, he locked the office door behind him and started off in the direction of his car, until the blare of a horn stopped him. He looked up to find a familiar red truck parked in front. The passenger door swung open and Bobbie leaned across the seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other beckoning to him.

  “Hey, sailor,” she said with a flirtatious batting of her eyelashes. She wore a white turtleneck with a silver snowflake pendant around her neck. “Can I take you somewhere?”

  He stared, wondering if he’d heard her correctly. She really did want to talk. “Ah...”

  “Stella and my father are with the boys,” she coaxed. “Nothing to worry about. My dad’s a doctor.”

  Nate put a hand to his heart. “I feel like I need a doctor. You’re sure you have the right sailor?”

  “I’m positive,” she said with flattering certainty. “Get in before I embarrass us both by hauling you in.”

  He slipped his briefcase behind the seat and climbed into the front, his heart palpitating just a little. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I told you we need to talk.” She checked her side mirror and pulled into traffic. Darkness had fallen and Astoria’s rush hour was fully in play. Headlights swerved around them and a horn honked loudly. “I want to take you to one of my favorite places.”

  He buckled his seat belt. “We’re going to Florence?”

  She drove with scary abandon. Or maybe he was dreaming and the world was flying past him.

  “No.” She laughed lightly. “There’s an overlook on Grand where I always stop on my way home from school. I’d like to share it with you.”

  “You want to share something special with me,” he taunted gently, holding on as she drove hell-for-leather. “You who insists that this relationship can never be anything but—”

  “Yeah, well, that’s all about to change.” She smiled at the road. “If you still want it to, that is?”

  If he still wanted it to change. He had to lean back and draw a breath. And that had nothing to do with the fact that they nearly rammed a camper moving too slowly for her. She swerved and roared ahead of it.

  “So, you’re telling me you’re...staying?”

  “Would you like me to?”

  She made a quick right turn and drove up the Sixteenth Street hill to Grand and turned right again. She pulled up in the middle of the block and parked where a deep lawn attached to the Grandview B and B sloped down, clearing a dramatic view of rooftops and the Columbia River. It was breathtaking during the day. Tonight, several cargo ships had dropped anchor in the channel, waiting for space to offload upriver in Portland. They were brilliantly lit under a rare starry winter sky, their glow reflected in the water.

  She was out of the truck before he could do the gentlemanly thing and hold her door. She ran around the hood, caught his hand and drew him to the edge of the lawn. “Look at that!” she breathed, awe in her voice. “I’ll never get used to how magnificent that is. I’ve painted it in my mind a dozen times, but I have to really do it when all my work responsibilities are met. I’ve decided that I can’t leave it.” She tightened her grip on his hand and turned to look up at him. “Or you.”

  She added the last two words very softly. He was sure he’d misheard her.

  “Did you say,” he asked, barely breathing, “that you didn’t want to leave me? Nathan Jeremy Raleigh. Me?”

  Her face was lit by the spotlights surrounding the B and B. Her eyes were a little anxious, but filled with a wonderful softness as they looked into his.

  “I love you, Nathan Jeremy Raleigh,” she said, without pausing for breath, “and while I was sure for so long that any deviation from my Italy plan was lax and cowardly, I just realized that I promised myself, and that I can cut myself some slack. Plans can change when events warrant it, no matter how true to yourself you want to be.”

  She turned to place her hands at his waist and lean into him. The tender surrender of that action touched him to the center of his being.

  He looped his arms around her. She felt so slight in his embrace. He had to hear the words. “So, you’re staying?”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you still want me to stay?”

  “More than I want my next breath.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and held on. “Then I’m staying. But I’d like to reserve the right to go to Florence for a month one summer. Maybe take you and the boys with me.”

  He’d never been the kind of man who’d been able to get in touch with his feminine side. All he’d ever found there was the desire for more hot wings, more football, a greater need to keep emotional stuff close to his core. The boys might have forced him to dig deep and find a paternal side, but there wasn’t much female about that. Still, tears bit the backs of his eyes.

  Nate blinked quickly and rested his cheek atop her head. Her hair was silky and smelled of pomegranate. “Bobbie, is that a proposal?”

  Puzzlement puckered her forehead. She seemed to be thinking back. “Didn’t you propose to me?”

  “When?”

  “Um...I don’t know. I mean, you’re always saying we should be together. Hmm. You never did ask me?”

  “Not in so many words, but let me correct that. Bobbie, will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” she replied in a breathless voice.

  “Then, yes,” he said. “I’ll marry you, too.”

  “Good. That’ll work best.”

/>   * * *

  ARMS STILL ENTWINED, they looked into each other’s eyes and, curiously, she giggled and he laughed. It had been such an ordeal to get to this point.

  She grew suddenly serious. “What we have to talk about sometime is the boys. I mean, they know I was sick, but they should be gently prepared in case...”

  He squeezed her to him to stop her. “You know, anyone can die at any time. I don’t know that it’s necessary to make them worry about it when your foreseeable future is bright.”

  She seemed about to disagree, then nodded. “It’s your call.”

  He held her even tighter, feeling humbled yet fiercely possessive. “You’re always saying you don’t have forever, but I think the only way to approach our lives is as though we do. And who knows that we don’t?”

  * * *

  SHE SO WANTED to believe that. In fact, at that moment, she did. All the cavalier acceptance of a shortened life was gone and she wanted to reach old age with Nate more than she’d ever wanted anything.

  “You’re right,” she said, reaching up to kiss him again. “We’ll operate on the belief that we do have forever, and that Florence will always be there.”

  His loving gaze ensnared her. Love rained over her, wound around her, seeped into her pores and probably changed the construction of her DNA. It might even have killed her cancer, she felt so changed.

  He leaned over to kiss her thoroughly. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said. She loved that light in his eyes. But then she couldn’t see his eyes because he was kissing her again.

  When he finally came up for air, they both laughed. He hesitated before suggesting, “Since the boys are well cared for, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  They were heading toward her truck when she stopped suddenly, remembering Crystal and her family. “Oh! I wanted to tell you about a little girl in my art class,” she said.

  “Yes?”

  Bobbie explained about Crystal’s father.

  “Okay.” Nate frowned. “I can get them food and presents for Christmas. I’m not sure I can do anything about her dad’s jail time, but there might be someone in Sandy’s office who could help. I’ll call her.”