Coincidences: #3 Diana & Anya

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  Diana knew she was warm.

  Finally. Warm and safe, she thought, snuggling down in the softness.

  Softness?

  Her body bolted upright, blankets and towels billowing at her waist. Pale lashes slammed wide, blinking and blinking again at the unfamiliar room. The decidedly unfamiliar bed. Hands gripped the blankets, pulling them up modestly before sliding her feet to the floor.

  Sunshine streamed through the windows that faced the east. Sparkles of morning dew stuck to the glass, her feet kicking at the blankets as she crossed to the bathroom. A tiny whimper left her lips when she lifted the damp underwear from the shower door. With a trailing blanket clutched to her, Diana quietly moved down the wide staircase.

  She stared at the man on the sofa. He was a puzzle. He was so different. One arm flung over his head, one leg uncovered. Dark hair tousled and the beard and moustache neatly and shortly trimmed. Definitely not mountain Dan, she mused, the blanket swishing around her ankles. She ignored the cold, stone tiles and found the laundry, tossed her things into the dryer and setting it for a few minutes. She leaned against the counter, waiting, the reflection in the mirror making her stare.

  Pale lashes widened around stunned blue eyes.

  He’d hung one of her paintings in his bathroom. It matched the sunshine colors he’d chosen in the tiles and walls. Hints of gold and yellow came through the marble in the counter, her fingers drawing over the jagged flecks.

  She couldn’t stop her smile.

  He bought one of her paintings.

  Chapter Five

  “Diana?”

  “In here,” she called out, scrambling to get dressed, tucking her shirts into her jeans. Diana hurriedly ran damp fingers through her hair, parting it the way the woman had shown her. She put a little dab of toothpaste on her finger, rubbed it vigorously over her teeth and rinsed quickly before going into the kitchen.

  “I really don’t know how to thank you…” Her appreciation came to a stop, blue eyes blinking, her gaze starting at the floor and working their way up. Over bare legs encased in a pair of simple black shorts, a nice flat stomach, a sparse smattering of dark coils on his chest all tinted a very nice shade of outdoors.

  “Feeling better?” He asked, aware of the feminine appreciation in her eyes, wondering if it was the artist or the woman doing the appraisal.

  “I…yes, I think so…at least the words are coming out all together,” Diana forced her eyes to his with a bright smile. “You bought one of my paintings,” she said as if she still couldn’t believe her eyes.

  “I did,” he folded the blanket and walked to the stairs. “It fit perfectly with the colors, don’t you think?”

  “It looks beautiful in there.”

  “I’m going to get dressed, then I’ll go get your jeep and bring it up here. There’s stuff to rummage in the kitchen, help yourself,” he told her before taking off at a light run up the stairs.

  Diana nodded and went to the kitchen, measuring out the coffee and starting the maker. She opened the fridge and found a loaf of eight grain bread and some cherry jam, popping a couple slices into the toaster. Everything looked so new, she realized, fingers tracing red flecks in the marble cabinet top. The appliances were a nice stainless steel, with beams overhead and a deep red and gold tile between the cabinets and counters.

  She stared for a long time at the large open space between the dining area and the kitchen, the artist in her creating a perfect villa painting for it. Filled with shades of red and gold. Diana went in search of her drawing pad when Gideon trotted down the stairs in jeans and a jersey. Today they looked like they fit together, she decided.

  Diana held up the last bite of toast in her fingers without thinking, smiling when he sunk his teeth into the crunchy cherry bread. His grin matched her own.

  “Two things, Diana. Your phone?” Gideon saw the why in her eyes but took the phone she offered. His fingers tapped over the surface before handing it back to her. “Say hello.” Her puzzled frown deepened but she held it to her ear, about to speak when he pulled his phone from inside his jeans, sliding it open and answering the ring. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  “You’re a nut,” a bright gurgle of laughter traveled through her phone and around them.

  “Possible. But now I have your number in my directory and you have mine.” He winked and dropped the phone into his pocket. “Second…the keys to the jeep?”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier for me to simply walk along with you?” Diana again reached into the side pocket of the large U-shaped satchel, her keys in her fingers.

  “I know the paths better and can be back here before the next slice of cherry topped toast is in your hot little fingers,” he told her easily, striding into the kitchen and pouring a large mug of coffee. "Breakfast of champions,” he said after a long swallow.

  “I’m not sure I agree with the logic, Gideon, but I’ll make more toast,” she said through her laugh, finding the confidence in his stride reassuring.

  She remembered the night before. She remembered how cold she was. She also remembered how hard he worked to warm her up in the shower. And how he hadn’t taken advantage of her, or even tried. Diana slid onto a tall stool, her pencil poised and eyes staring out into the light fog surrounding the large house. They were about midway up one of the smaller hills leading into the mountains. He had chosen a very nice, large flat plane for his home.

  Diana was lost in the villa she was creating on paper. Cobblestone streets, flower boxes on red tile roofed homes and the sea in the distance. Gold and red sunflowers in a small field, white washed walls on the houses and even a small vineyard, she mused.

  Gideon entered the house, about to call out when he glimpsed her at the breakfast bar. Coffee and toast scented the house, but her presence…he wondered if he was imagining things. Or creating them in his mind the way she created drawings on paper. She belonged in the house, he decided, watching her hand move over the paper, head tilted slightly and the sweetest looking pucker to her full lips. She fit him, he corrected arrogantly, dropping her keys to the small table before striding to join her.

  “Gideon, why were you camping if your house is…half an hours walk from here?” Diana liked watching him move.

  “I was camping and fishing while the contractors finished up some things here. Too much noise and clutter. Then a couple days ago, the furniture finally got here. I like camping and needed some space to relax and think,” he said simply.

  “The work thing?” Diana asked softly.

  “Yeah…but I think with the help of a couple friends, I’ve got that all hammered out. The fog’s pretty thick out there,” Gideon picked up a slice of toast filled with jam and took a healthy bite. “Do I get to see what you were working on yesterday?”

  “No,” Diana answered firmly, closing the drawing pad and setting it down with an innocent smile. “I’ve lived here most of my life, Gideon. I’m accustomed to the fog. I want to thank you for…well, for finding me last night. I had no idea how quickly the time flew past me…I need a timer…”

  “Use your phone, Diana. Set an alarm in it and adhere to it,” he poured hot coffee in his mug.

  “I will…I don’t ever want to feel that cold again,” she assured him.

  “I like your new hair cut…sassy and pixie…it suits you,” he changed the subject, not wanting to relive the concern of the previous night.

  “Thank you…I like it…no more ponytail headaches,” she liked the teasing gleam in his eyes. There were no games. He meant it. “I think I prefer the new you, as well…much better than the…”

  “Yes?” Gideon’s laugh was evident in that single word.

  “The caveman look,” she finished honestly.

  “Hmm...it was a bit on the shaggy side, wasn’t it?” He chuckled at her nod. “I admit I like it, too…a kind of academic, dignity. Until I ran into you, the Cooper’s just took it as normal as it grew out at the campgrounds. I think I’ll keep it for a while. How about a little to
ur?”

  Diana looked only a moment at the palm he held out to her, her fingers twining in his as they walked out the kitchen door.

  “What are you building?” Diana stepped forward, her fingers leaving his as she walked between the rectangles assembled over the ground. She looked back at him. “A garden?”

  Gideon nodded, fingers caught in the openings of his jean pockets, strolling casually along with her. “Vegetables, a couple varieties of garlic…a couple varieties of raspberries along that back fence.”

  “Eight beds of vegetables…that’s energetic. Grannie grows flowers of all sorts in beds like these but she has a lot of help. Do you enjoy growing your own food?” Diana moved to the side, a stone walk had been erected and was leading toward the front and the long driveway. She jumped up on the wall, feet swinging idly.

  “I used to…a long time ago.”

  “Why did you stop?” She watched him open huge bags labeled ‘Harvest Supreme’ and dump it into one of the beds. There were over two dozen bags of the same stacked against the wall where she sat.

  Gideon moved and sat on one of the stacks, meeting her eyes. “I’m not sure. It didn’t fit what I was doing, I think. Dinner parties in fancy restaurants, half business meetings in upscale pubs and other locales…the people in my life then…people I felt wouldn’t understand the point of it.”

  “It didn’t fit the lifestyle, or the image you were wanting to portray, I understand. We spend so much time and energy being concerned what other people think of our choices…that we lose sight of ourselves,” she said with a long sigh. “And now?”

  “Now I don’t care what they think. I’m established in what I enjoy doing, my reputation speaks for itself and it’s my private life,” Gideon declared firmly. “I like cooking. I like messing about with growing things and I like knowing how it was grown.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. I think the hair thing…for so long it was what you’re supposed to have, long hair. No explanation. Just…no, dear, that’s not what you want…stern disapproval…”

  “And now?” He repeated her question.

  “Now I’ve decided to launch me and lock them out for a time until the words echoing in my head go away,” Diana felt her cheeks tint. “I hear myself say things like that and wonder how…or why…why are the opinions and…and dictates more valuable than what we want inside for ourselves?”

  “That sounds like a lifelong discussion,” Gideon watched her shoes slip off, toes painted a brilliant shade of red twitching as she swung her legs. “So you approve of the beard and moustache?”

  Diana smiled, her head up and eyes twinkling. “I like it on you, yes.”

  “Ever date a guy with face hair before?”

  “Hmmmm…not even in college, nope.”

  “Consider dating a guy with a beard?” Gideon saw a guarded shield fall over her gaze, her eyes shifting to study her toes.

  “I think…you should be warned, Gideon. I don’t have a good track record…” Diana felt like she was a teenager. She hadn’t dated much. She was more interested in her art classes and learning than boys.

  “Been married before?” Gideon guessed. He saw the hesitation in the palm she lifted, two fingers held up and her eyes raised to meet his. “They must have been real jerks.”

  Diana worked hard to blink back the hot moisture in her eyes, her head shaking. “I could quote them to you…but I don’t want to be depressed the rest of the day. I was…was less than bright. But it was kind of you to call them jerks. What about you? Married before?” She saw him mimic her with one finger held up. “Was she part of why you didn’t grow things?”

  “Gina was…is…a really good corporate lawyer. I thought we had things in common. While I was after knowledge, success and a good reputation, she was sending her ladder much higher than I was interested in climbing. Our notions of what our private life should be…so far apart…”

  “And we spend time trying to figure out why we didn’t see it in the first place,” Diana smiled weakly.

  “I think it’s part of learning from our mistakes,” he suggested with a shrug. “And learning to trust ourselves again. So…what about that date?”

  “You’re persistent, Gideon.”

  “Tomorrow night. I have a retirement thing to attend and I’d like to take you with me. It’s casual…at least as far as Harriet is casual…but she promised good food and music.”

  “I need to get back to the lodge,” Diana slid to the ground, her feet seeking her shoes and her mind arguing with her heart. She didn't want hurt again. She didn’t want to be told over and over all the things that made her a bad bed partner. Blue eyes rose from the ground in the silence. “What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up about five and we’ll head across town. It’s being held on one of the Argosy cruise ships and the weather promises to co-operate,” Gideon held out his hand, leading her around the side of the house. He watched her head swivel, taking in the tall peak of the front room and the deep colored wood beams that made up the frame.

  “It’s beautiful, Gideon,” Diana turned and walked backwards for a second. “It suits you, you know. Like the camp ground suits you.”

  “But a city girl could like it, too…so it’s not so bad,” Gideon closed the door and stepped back, waving as she drove away.

  Chapter Six

  Diana went in search of Bella, immediately apologizing.

  “I understand getting lost in your art, Diana, it’s okay,” Bella hugged her, looping her arm with hers and striding into the kitchen. “But the phone alarm thing is a really good idea. I was just worried. Sam was convinced I’d need tranquilizers,” she said with a laugh. “So how about some food?”

  “I’d love some…I’m starving. Gideon had toast but not much else at his house,” Diana followed Bella to the dining room and the waiting buffet.

  “Is that where he took you last night?” She worked to sound casual, not like a mother conducting an inquisition.

  Diana nodded, selecting a rich looking pasta and some vegetables. “He’s building a beautiful house about half an hour from here. It’s almost finished, I think,” she mused, her voice light and cheerful, her expression thoughtful. “At least it looks almost finished. I’ll have to ask him. Did you know he bought one of my paintings? It’s hanging in the downstairs bathroom. The counters in that room have flecks of bright yellow and gold in it and the colors in the flowers fit the room amazingly well.”

  “Amy wanted to know about any other paintings you might have. She’s working with Olivia to get them framed and ready for presentation,” Bella relaxed. Something told her Gideon was good for Diana. Just like Sam was good for her.

  “If I can use the jeep, I’ll go to my studio and bring some others out,” Diana stared off as she ate, thinking of the store room behind the cottage with her painting in it. “Some of them I haven’t looked at in ages and ages, though. Sometimes I’m surprised I didn’t stop painting all together. No one…I sometimes thought I was just wasting my time…but if I wasn’t painting, I felt lost. It was the only time…the only place I felt like me.”

  “I have that feeling about the kitchen, Diana…so I completely understand. And you can use the jeep anytime. Just let the front desk know it’s gone.”

  Diana decided she felt like a thief. Arriving at the estate at six in the morning and creeping to her studio along the side of the house. She parked as close as she could and nearly jumped out of her skin when Lewis appeared coming from the house.

  “Oh, my…Lewis…” Diana leaned against the door jamb, breathing raggedly.

  “You’re safe, miss,” he chuckled, his sleeves pushed to his elbows and a cup of coffee in his hand. “They’re all out for a few days.”

  “Seriously?” Diana perked right up, pushing the door wide to her studio home. “I can’t imagine my luck being any better. Could you help me get these canvases to the jeep? Please? I want to pack up a few other things.”

  “Of cour
se, miss, let me put this in the house and get the garden cart. I’ll be right back.”

  Diana found a gym bag in the bottom of the closet, tucked a few pair of shoes and a few of her favorite dresses inside. She added her jewelry, a swim suit and some shirts she wore when painting, zipping it up and stacking things she wanted near the door.

  “You paint some beautiful flowers, miss,” Lewis complimented as he wheeled the cart toward the parked jeep.

  “Thank you…I’m hoping they’ll find good homes now.” She smiled and opened the back of the jeep. “If you want one of the paintings, please, Lewis, take one. I’d be honored if you did. I should have found people who enjoyed flowers as much as I do a long time ago.”

  “My wife would love one of these with all the sunflowers,” he admitted, taking the medium frame and setting it aside with obvious delight. “Thank you very much, miss.”

  “You are most welcome, Lewis, and thank you for your help. Take care,” Diana waved as she drove off in the quiet morning, humming to the soft music playing.

  Learn from your mistakes, she thought. And how do you make the fear go away, she asked in a little girl whisper. Diana parked the jeep next to the apartment, taking her personal things upstairs and spending the rest of the day painting, drawing and arranging her new home. She munched on the spring fruit she bought, made thick simple sandwiches of cucumber, cream cheese and tomato and added touches now and then to the drawing she wanted to paint for Gideon’s kitchen. She had it envisioned in her mind, the vibrant colors and simple village.

  Diana spent half the next day with Olivia and Amy in the storeroom of the gift shop. Olivia Barlow was really happy with all the paintings they had stretched out around the large storeroom. Colors jumped out at them from every corner, every angle. It was impossible to be unhappy at the moment. All three of them felt like they were in the middle of a flower parade.