It wasn’t until he pulled his car into the garage and went into his own house that he realized he’d totally forgotten about Sicily. Maybe he wasn’t that hot as a father either. Sometimes, he thought as he jogged down his freshly cut path, we don’t know ourselves as well as we think.
“How did it go?” Janice asked as he came up onto the screened porch where she appeared to be waiting for him. Her dark hair was curled around her face and the smile she wore reminded him of a cat he’d once owned. A very sweet but very independent cat who came and went as she pleased until she finally disappeared altogether.
He shrugged. “Okay…I guess.”
“Sicily is inside,” Janice spoke quietly, “playing gin rummy with Vivian and Mom.”
“Oh.” He sat down on a wicker rocker next to her chair. “No offense, but your cousin seems like a stubborn woman to me.”
Janice laughed. “I used to think she was rather inflexible when we were girls. I remember trying to get her to go along with me a few times. She would dig her heels in, we would argue. I’d call her pigheaded, and she’d get mad.”
He nodded. “Yes. Definitely pigheaded.” But even as he said this, he felt slightly guilty. “Or maybe I’ve done something to make her think less of me.”
“Oh, what could you have possibly done?” Janice turned on a little girl’s voice now. For some reason, he found it grating. “You’re the sweetest guy around, Blake. If silly old Waverly doesn’t like you, it’s because she’s downright pigheaded.” She laughed again.
“Well, I did agree to let Sicily work for her. But I laid down the line. I told Waverly that Sicily would only be there to help with the mural—not to play video games like a street urchin.”
“See, there you go.” Janice scooted her chair closer to his. “She knows what you expect. And now you have free babysitting to boot.”
He frowned. “That’s not why I’m letting Sicily do this.”
“So I get to help with the mural?” Sicily exclaimed as she burst out the door. She’d obviously been listening. “Did I hear you right, Daddy? Do I get to work for her?”
He nodded. “Your friend wore me down.”
“Good for Waverly.” Now Sicily wrapped her arms around her dad from behind, giving him a tight, warm hug. “Thank you, Daddy!”
He blinked, surprised at her expression of affection. “You—you’re welcome, Sicily.”
“Let’s go home now.” She came around and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. “I want to work on some more sketches.”
“How about if we thank our hostesses first,” he said.
So they went inside and properly thanked Louise and Vivian, who looked like they were ready to call it a night.
“Did you get everything straightened out with Waverly?” Vivian asked.
“Dad is letting me work for her,” Sicily told her with bright eyes.
“That’s good.” Vivian nodded at Blake. “I don’t think you’ll be sorry.”
“No, of course not,” Louise assured him. “Waverly is a sweet girl and a hard worker. You can depend on her.”
“See, Dad.” Sicily grinned up at him.
“Then we shall take our leave of you ladies.” He made a formal bow, which made them giggle.
“Good night,” they called in unison.
But before he and Sicily made it over to the trail, he noticed that Janice was right alongside them. “I’ve got a flashlight,” she told him. “I’ll light your way home.”
“I think we’re fine,” he told her.
“But there could be a wild boar around.”
“Wild boars?” Sicily sounded a little scared.
“You never know. I heard they used to have them on the island.”
Blake felt skeptical but decided not to mention it. “So here we are,” he said as they were safely in his own yard. “I guess you’re not afraid to get yourself back home?”
“I don’t know.” Janice looked uncertain. “Perhaps a cup of coffee would help.”
He wanted to decline, but already Sicily had streaked off into the house, saying she wanted to work on some drawings. So he had no rock-solid excuse. Besides, why shouldn’t he enjoy a late-night cup of coffee with an attractive woman? Except that he just didn’t feel that interested.
“Or else I could just head on back,” Janice said in a dismal tone.
“No, no,” he said slowly. “A cup of Joe sounds good. I’ve got some good hazelnut decaf I’ve been wanting to try. Sound good to you?”
“Delightful.” She sat down on his porch and sighed. “What a beautiful evening.”
Blake went into his kitchen and began to fix some coffee. But as he went through the paces, the only thing he could think of was Waverly—and how he wished she was the one outside on the porch waiting for him. Oh, he knew it was ridiculous, since Waverly obviously despised him. And yet…
“Here you go,” he said as he set the pair of coffee mugs on the little table. “I put a little cream in yours. Okay?”
“Perfect.” She smiled up at him. “Already…you know me well.”
“I guess.” He sat down and looked out over the darkened water.
“I’ve been thinking about taking an extended vacation,” she said in a leisurely way. “My firm was balking some, but when I explained that I had the upcoming election to contend with, they seemed to understand.” She took a sip of coffee. “Besides, they know that if I make it into the state senate, it won’t hurt them either.”
“Meaning?” He glanced over at her.
She shrugged. “Meaning, it’s a nice thing for people to take care of each other…like you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.” She snickered. “If you catch my drift.”
He didn’t catch it, but he did feel weary. As much as he hated to admit it (at his age), he merely wanted to grab a good book and go to bed. Really, what was wrong with that? But Janice was energized. She continued to talk about her firm and the upcoming election and where that might lead to, insinuating that nothing was too far out of her reach.
“I’m not a fool, Blake. I know I’m not part of the Kennedy family,” she said wistfully. “Or the Clintons—although you know they both have connections in the Vineyard. But sometimes I get this feeling that a destiny has been handed to me. Whether it came from my father or someplace else, I can’t say, but I get this feeling I’m heading into something much bigger than just the Massachusetts state senate. I know my life is heading for something much bigger. Does that make any sense?”
“Absolutely,” he told her. “That makes a lot of sense. I applaud you for being willing to go for it. Not everyone has the guts to throw their hat into the ring. We need good leaders in this country.”
“You think I’d be a good leader?” Her voice was soft now, like she was asking something beyond that.
“You seem like a natural-born leader to me.”
She grimaced. “Meaning, I’m bossy.”
“Hey, I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s what you were thinking.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
The truth was, he was thinking about Janice’s cousin. Not that he was going there right now.
“How do you feel about assertive women?” she asked.
“I think everyone should be assertive—male and female.”
“Yes, but how would you feel if you had an assertive woman by your side? Would you be intimidated?”
He was in over his head. What was she saying? Was this a proposal? “I…uh…think I should check on Sicily,” he said, standing. “She should be going to bed by now.”
“Yes.” She stood, stretching luxuriously. “Although it’s sad to say adieu to such a glorious summer evening. Are you certain you want to call it a night?”
He stepped away from her. “Yes. I’m certain.”
She made a pouty face. “Have it your way. See you for coffee then?”
He was halfway into the house already but feeling very ungentlemanly
for not offering to walk her back home. “I guess so.” He made an apologetic smile. “Later.”
She looked clearly disappointed, but at least she kept going. He felt like he’d just escaped a bullet. A platinum bullet…with his name engraved upon it.
When he checked on Sicily, she was happily in her pajamas and sketching away.
“I came to tell you good night,” he told her.
“Did Janice go home?” she asked with a hard-to-read expression.
He nodded.
“Do you really like her?”
He was stumped. “I—uh—I don’t know.”
“I think she’s just using you, Daddy.”
He paused to consider her words for a couple of reasons. The obvious one being that Sicily should make such an assumption about Janice. Where had she come up with something like that? But what really caught his attention was that she’d called him Daddy. Since getting to the Vineyard, Sicily had rarely used that old familiar term. For that reason alone, he wanted to tread cautiously with her. “Why do you think Janice is using me?” he asked gently.
“Cuz she’s the kind of woman who wants a man for only one reason.”
He tried not to look shocked. But he was curious—how much did his little girl know about these things? “And that reason would be…?”
“Just so she’ll look good,” Sicily said in a very grown-up way.
“Oh?” He kept a straight face as he studied his daughter.
“Uh-huh.” She refocused her attention on her drawing as she continued. “Alexandra had a boyfriend like that once. She said the only reason he wanted to be with her was so she could be his wrist candy.”
Blake let out a snort of laughter.
She stuck out her lower lip like he’d offended her. “That’s what Alex said, Daddy. Wrist candy.”
He nodded sagely. “Oh, I believe you, sweetie. I really do.”
She looked skeptical.
“Good night, darling.” He ran his hand over her silky hair, wondering how long it would take that purple streak to fade away. “Lights off by ten-thirty, okay?”
“Oh, Dad.” She scowled at him.
“Hey, don’t forget you’re a working woman now,” he reminded her. “You need to get your rest.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said eagerly. “Ten-thirty…lights off.”
He kissed the top of her head, then left her room and wandered aimlessly through his house. Curious as to why he felt so restless, he realized he no longer had the patience to read the biography he’d picked up. And he had no interest in going online to check the latest news. Eventually he turned off the lights and went into his bedroom, where he stood for a long moment. He was still pondering what Sicily had said, implying that he might simply be Janice’s wrist candy, of all things! At first it had sounded outrageous, but the more he considered it, the more he wondered. Worse than that, he wasn’t positive that he wasn’t guilty of the same motivations.
Chapter Twelve
On Sunday morning Waverly decided it was time to treat herself to a day off. After all, she’d accomplished a fair amount in only a few days. With all the cleaning she’d done and with her own furnishings in place, the studio apartment now resembled a rather pleasant place to live. Even the arcade had improved its image after her thorough cleaning. Zach was coming tomorrow to start on the basecoat of paint for their mural wall, as well as to rearrange some of the video games.
There was no denying that managing a video-game parlor had never been her dream job, but she was determined to make the best of it. And now it was time for some R & R. So, with a promise to relieve Rosie for her lunch break at 12:30, Waverly walked on over to Waterside Market to get some breakfast. There she dined on a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel as well as a latte as she perused the local paper until she found an ad for a bike rental shop located in Tisbury. By now she knew that Tisbury was merely another name for Vineyard Haven. According to the address, this bike shop was right down the street. It was selling some of its older models for what sounded like fairly reasonable prices.
By ten o’clock she had not only purchased a retro-style bicycle in a pleasant shade of sky blue, but a helmet and several other biking accessories as well. She’d spent more than she’d planned, but compared to the expenses of running a car, she had gotten off cheaply. And, considering the summer traffic, which often moved at the pace of a weary slug, she felt certain biking was highly preferable. First she rode around Vineyard Haven, but feeling she was up for more of a challenge, she decided to head over to East Chop.
She didn’t know why the pointed peninsulas were called West and East Chop, but on the map they did resemble pork chops. Not that she was going public with that theory. West Chop was where Vineyard Haven was located. And East Chop contained Oak Bluffs. She’d heard Oak Bluffs was even more touristy than Vineyard Haven, but that was hard to imagine…until she got there. Streets were clogged with cars, bikes, and pedestrians. Finally she found herself touring some of the side streets, where each house was a like a charmingly unique work of art.
So far most of the homes she’d seen had been similar with their gray Cape Cod-style shingles and white trim. But these houses were painted all the colors of the rainbow and tricked out with gingerbread, lattice, and other similar decorative touches. It was like a carnival of houses, and she couldn’t get enough of them. She knew she’d have to come back with her camera next time. But for now, it was time to go and relieve Rosie for her lunch break.
She pedaled back across the bridge and into Tisbury, navigating through the traffic, hurrying to make it to The Gallery before one. She was walking her bike up to the arcade when she saw Sicily sitting on the edge of the flower planter outside. Her face looked close to tears.
“What’s wrong?” Waverly asked her.
“You weren’t here.” Sicily stood up, folding her arms across her front with a grim expression.
“I was taking the day off,” Waverly explained as she locked her bike into the bike rack.
“But I thought I was going to work for you today.”
Waverly bit her lip. “But I never said that, Sicily.”
“But my dad said it was okay to work for you.” Sicily held up some rolls of paper. “And I made more drawings.”
Waverly thought over her response. It was clear that Sicily’s feelings were hurt. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression you were going to start today,” she said carefully. “I really didn’t mean to.” She opened the door. “Why don’t you come inside, and we’ll discuss what your hours will be.”
“Okay.”
“There you are,” Rosie said in a slightly grumpy tone. “I thought you’d never get back.”
Waverly glanced at the clock to see she was seven minutes late. “Sorry about that,” she told Rosie. Seven minutes, and Rosie was throwing a hissy fit?
“See you later.” Rosie grabbed her purse from beneath the counter and marched off.
“Guess I’m on everyone’s bad list today,” she told Sicily. “Hey, do you want to do some work right now?”
“Do what?”
Waverly had been about to ask Sicily to mind the counter for her while she ran upstairs but thought better of leaving a child in charge of kids who were older and bigger than her. “Could you run up to my apartment and get me a bottle of water from the fridge?”
Sicily nodded. “Yeah.”
So Waverly gave her the key. “And help yourself to a soda or juice if you like. Then we can make a plan for next week.”
Sicily smiled now. “Okay!”
Before long, Sicily was back with water for Waverly and a soda for herself. The two sat down and looked over Sicily’s sketches. Then Waverly got out some more paper, and they began to lay out the way the characters could go on the wall. Finally Waverly pulled out the calendar, and they looked at the upcoming week, deciding that mornings would be best, agreeing on two to three hours a day, depending on what Sicily’s dad said.
“If something comes up and you need
to miss a day or two,” Waverly finally said, “I’ll understand.” She handed Sicily her weekly schedule. “And we’ll figure out the following week on next Friday. It’ll be trickier because of the Fourth of July.”
“I wish we could start on the mural today,” Sicily said sadly.
“We kind of started.” Waverly pointed to their big blueprint sketch. “At least we’ll be ready to go tomorrow. I’ll see that Zach paints the mural wall first thing in the morning, so it’ll be dry enough for us to work on by ten.”
“But what am I going to do today?” Sicily asked glumly. “Dad and Janice won’t be back to get me until three-thirty or four.”
Waverly couldn’t help it. Her jaw dropped. “You’re kidding?”
“That’s what they said when they dropped me off. That’s how long they needed to go to the beach.”
Waverly was seriously aggravated. Why had Blake gone and done that? He knew that Waverly hadn’t made any firm arrangement on having Sicily here today. What made him assume it was acceptable to dump his daughter here? Who did he think she was, anyway—the free babysitter?
“I guess I can hang out and play video games until then.” Sicily stared at her backpack. “But I only have a few dollars. That won’t last long.”
“Do you want to call your dad and ask him to come get you?” Waverly pointed to the phone by the cash register.
Sicily pulled a cell phone with pink rhinestones from a pocket of her backpack. “I have my own, thanks.”
“Right.” Nine-year-olds with cell phones, being dropped off at video arcades, wearing purple hair, and carrying backpacks with skulls on them. Yes, it was a brave new world.
“But Dad can’t get me for a while. He and Janice were going to Menemsha, and that’s clear on the other side of the island.” She looked longingly at the sketches. “I wish we could just work today.”
So Waverly explained how Zach wouldn’t even get the basecoat of paint on until tomorrow, and how she’d planned to take the rest of the day off. “I even bought a bicycle this morning. It’s pretty much the first time I’ve gone around and seen things.” Now she wondered about calling her mother, asking her to come pick up Sicily.
Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard Page 11
