The Best-Made Plans

by Leigh Michaels

  “Well, we’ll find you something. Don’t get desperate.”

  “Are you serious? I have a wedding to coordinate on Saturday and I have to move by Monday, and you say Don’t get desperate?”

  Stephanie shrugged. “You can always come and stay with us.”

  “You’re not running a guest house. And don’t forget my roommate — Schnoodle.”

  Jill stirred and opened her eyes. “We’ve got a cabin sitting empty up at Sapphire Lake. Why not go there for a month or so, till you can check things out?”

  Kaitlyn considered it. She loved the lake, and in the summer, even a daily drive into town would be no more than a minor nuisance. Then she shook her head. “It’s high season. You’ll want to use it, and I’d be in your way.”

  Jill looked from the sleeping infant in Kaitlyn’s arms to the one Stephanie held. “I’m not planning to throw any wild parties up there this summer. In fact, if I have my choice between packing up these little darlings and hauling them and all their equipment up to the lake, or staying home with my air conditioner and dishwasher—”

  Kaitlyn nodded. “I see your point. All right, Jill, I’ll take you up on it. Thanks; you’re a lifesaver. In a week or two things will settle down, and then I can look around.”

  Jill yawned. “I’ll get you the key if I can work up the energy to crawl out of this chair.”

  Stephanie smiled. “I suppose this lazy attitude means you aren’t interested in an impromptu skating party tonight, Jill?”

  “Roller skates, you mean?” Kaitlyn asked. “You’re taking a bunch of kids, right?”

  “Of course, but the kids are only an excuse. You’ll come, won’t you?”

  “I haven’t been on skates in years, Steph.”

  “Neither have the rest of us. Come on, it’ll be fun.” Stephanie glanced down at the twin in her arms. “Oops, this one went out like a light, too. And Jill has drifted off to dreamland as well, I see.... Shall we tuck everyone in for a nap?”

  She led the way upstairs to the twins’ nursery, where two identical white bassinets stood side by side. “Now, I need to get this straight,” Stephanie mused. “I was holding Jessica — wasn’t I?”

  “They’re adorable,” Kaitlyn murmured. “But Jill looks exhausted.”

  “Yes, for the moment. But there’s nothing like a tiny trusting infant nestled against your breast to make you regret that they grow up. You’ll see what I mean, someday. If you need help getting moved up to the cabin, Kaitlyn—”

  “It will have to be Sunday, I suppose,” Kaitlyn said. “But I won’t be taking much except my clothes, so I think I can handle it myself. Talking about cabins reminds me, though. Is Penn really trying to buy the old Delaney place?”

  Stephanie’s face remained perfectly pleasant and calm, but she raised her eyebrows in puzzlement. “The Delaney place?”

  “Stephanie, I’ve learned to recognize that professionally-blank look of yours. It means he is, otherwise you’d have looked surprised. Why does he want it, anyway?”

  Stephanie relented with a shrug. “He hasn’t told me. I’m only the go-between. But I expect he plans to build a house.”

  “Well, at least that makes more sense than the last tale I heard.” Kaitlyn gulped as Stephanie’s words sank in. She didn’t say a word until they were back downstairs, and then all she could manage was, “Why here?”

  “Why not here? Springhill needs houses; there are people standing in line to buy them. It’s a great opportunity for someone like Penn.”

  “Oh. You mean he’s going to build a house just to sell it?” For a minute there, Kaitlyn admitted, she’d been really worried. Having Penn around Springhill on a more-or-less permanent basis wouldn’t be very comfortable at all.

  Stephanie nodded. “That seems to be the idea.”

  There was an odd tremor of relief in the pit of Kaitlyn’s stomach. “I’m not surprised. Penn wouldn’t be likely to settle down here. I wonder if he’ll even manage to stay interested long enough for the contractors to finish it.”

  “Kaitlyn, he’s been building houses for several years. And it’s not a question of contractors. He does it himself — the whole process.”

  Kaitlyn blinked in surprise. “You mean the sawing and the nailing and everything?”

  “He can’t manage all the heavy work alone, but—”

  “And just where has he been doing this?”

  “All over the country. He builds a house, sells it and moves on.”

  “I see. I’m glad you didn’t expect me to believe that all this time he’s actually been a solid citizen and a member of the Chamber of Commerce somewhere. What about all the other strange occupations I’ve heard about?”

  Stephanie said impatiently, “Oh, he’s done every one of those things, and probably a whole lot more. Not many people know everything Penn’s done.”

  “And now he’s building houses. Well, isn’t that just like Penn? A carpenter who builds a house and then takes off for parts unknown. Most people would stay in one place and establish a reputation — unless, of course, the houses he builds fall down, or turn out to be so strange that no one wants to live in them.”

  “Penn is not most people, Kaitlyn.” Stephanie looked annoyed. “Is it really such an odd thing to do? With the size of the estate his parents left, Penn doesn’t have to earn a living, you know. What does it matter if he takes an unusual approach to work? Or if he doesn’t want to stay in one place, either?” She released a long, exasperated breath. “Think about it, honey, and you may conclude it’s not so crazy, after all. At least it’s not to Penn.”

  “Nothing,” Kaitlyn said, “sounds too crazy for Penn!”

  *****

  She finished her errands, picking up the cocktail napkins for Laura McCarthy’s reception, breaking the news to her about the calla lilies, checking that the tuxedos would be available when promised at the rental place, sampling the icing the bakery planned to use on the cake. Finally she was ready to go home and face an evening of packing.

  She went in through the garden gate and stood thoughtfully testing it out. It was now properly square on its hinges with not a squeak to be heard. That had been quite a tool kit Penn had brought along the day he’d come to fix it. And the tools hadn’t been new; they were not the ones she’d seen him buying at the hardware store. She hadn’t realized till now that she had even noticed.

  Perhaps Penn wasn’t quite such a complacent drifter. She might have been wrong — partially, at least. And he had managed to save her neck with those wedding pictures. Did she owe him an apology?

  “About the same time he makes me one,” she muttered, and went inside.

  Audrey Ross was in the kitchen, putting pots and pans into boxes. “I’ve got no idea what to do with all this stuff. I’ve sorted out a few things for you, Kaitlyn, for your new kitchen.” She waved a hand toward the table, which was piled high.

  “I’ve already got everything I need, Mother. Boxed up in the attic, where we put it all when I moved back home. Remember?”

  Momentarily, Audrey looked puzzled. “Oh, yes, of course. I’d forgotten. Then what shall I do with all of this? There won’t be room for it in my apartment.”

  “Put it in Stephanie’s garage and leave it. Maybe she’ll have a tag sale eventually.”

  Audrey laughed. “Wait till you see the things I found today, darling. Your christening cap – you know, the one made from my wedding handkerchief. The teddy bear you made when you were in third grade, and the dress you wore to the senior prom. It still has the rip in it where Penn stepped on the hem.”

  Penn, again. Well, she wasn’t going to get drawn into reminiscences with her mother tonight. “I’m going to the attic to look for those boxes,” she said, and told her mother about Jill’s offer of the cabin.

  “Oh, that’s good. I was beginning to worry about you. Try the southwest corner; I think I saw boxes there with your name on them.”

  The attic was hot, and it had the characteristically-musty smell
that always made Kaitlyn want to sneeze. She climbed the folding stairs and turned on the dim lights and looked around in amazement. Her mother had been working miracles up here; the shelves and nooks full of clutter had been reduced to neatly labeled boxes, piled and sorted and ready to be moved.

  The stack of boxes in the southwest corner did indeed bear Kaitlyn’s name but little else in the way of information. Now that she stopped to think about it, she remembered packing up her apartment in such a hurry that she hadn’t bothered to properly label each carton.

  She growled a little in disgust at her own carelessness. Jill’s cabin up at Sapphire Lake was one of the smaller ones. Unlike Stephanie’s elaborate summer home, which was always ready for a party of any size, Jill’s was equipped more for occasional picnics than for full-time living. If Kaitlyn was going to be there for at least a month, she’d need some of her own things. The problem was going to lie in figuring out precisely which boxes she would find them in.

  She’d just have to take them all, she supposed. If she didn’t, the one she most needed was bound to end up at the bottom of a pile of her mother’s things in a warehouse somewhere.

  Perhaps I acted a little too quickly in turning down Stephanie’s offer of help. All these boxes...

  Audrey’s head appeared at the top of the stairs. “You’re not going to work tonight, surely?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve hardly given you any help at all.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that; I’ve got everything arranged. Penn said you were going skating.”

  “Oh, he did?” Had that been before or after their quarrel? Not that it really mattered; it was time she and Penn got a few things straightened out.

  Kaitlyn glanced at her wristwatch and went back downstairs to change into jeans and freshen her makeup.

  Penn was just going to have to stop doing things like this. Telling her mother that she was going skating, before Kaitlyn had even known it herself — making it appear like some sort of date they’d made. Who else had he told?

  It annoyed her that in order to talk to him she would in a sense be confirming what he’d told Audrey — she’d have to go to the rink. But it might be days before she had another free evening, and then she might not know where to find Penn.

  The roller-skating rink had once been at the very edge of Springhill, before the town had grown up around it. Now it lay between the industrial park and a new shopping complex. It was not particularly busy on a summer Wednesday, and she had no trouble spotting the party. Penn was on the far side of the oval rink with Stephanie’s little girl, trying to convince her to come out onto the floor with him.

  Kaitlyn laced up her skates and said hello to the rink’s owner as she paid her admission fee.

  “Just like old times, isn’t it?” he said with a smile. “All you guys used to hang around here on Saturday nights and give me headaches.”

  She took a few short, tentative steps on the glass-smooth floor. It took a moment to regain her balance, but skating was like riding a bicycle, really. The knowledge might be tucked away unused, but it could never be forgotten. It would, however, take time and practice if she was to get back the confidence she had once had, and she found herself staying very close to the rail as she made her way around the rink for the first time.

  Penn came up behind her with a swoop and slowed to keep pace. He looked down at her appraisingly, with his head tipped a little to one side, hands clasped behind his back. “I didn’t think you’d come, after that fight.”

  She put her chin up. “I never miss a skating party if I can help it. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

  “Oh? I thought perhaps you’d thought of a few more things you wanted to tell me.”

  “Things I forgot to bring up this afternoon?” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said what I did, Penn. I’m sorry.”

  The tight line of his jaw relaxed, and in the same instant the music changed and softened. The owner hadn’t been kidding about remembering those long-ago Saturday nights, Kaitlyn thought. That had been one of their favorite songs, ten years ago.

  And don’t start getting sentimental, she told herself.

  “A bit ungracious,” he mused, “but it will do.”

  “Now wait just a minute while I make myself clear. I didn’t say I’d changed my mind — just that it’s none of my business what you do with your life.”

  Penn’s eyebrows raised a fraction.

  “And of course it’s equally true that what I do with my life is none of your affair.”

  “Oh, absolutely,” he murmured.

  “I’ll appreciate it if you remember that in the future. And of course I accept your apology for interfering.”

  “If that makes you happy,” he said earnestly, “I don’t object. Now that we have all that straightened out, come skate with me. I mean really skate, not this clinging-to-the-rail stuff.”

  She shook her head. “I have things to do tonight.”

  He glanced around the rink. “Leave now and everyone in the place will think we’ve just quarreled. And they’ll start wondering why.”

  She hadn’t considered that. But he was probably right.

  “If you stay, we’ll just be two old friends skating. Surely not even Marcus could object to that, could he?”

  “I suppose you told him I’d be here, so he’d be sure to drop by and be scandalized.”

  Penn looked rather shocked. “And interfere with your life? Of course not. Unless — are we going to be doing something scandalous, Kitten?”

  She glared at him.

  “No? Then why would I want Marcus?” He shrugged. “I’d bet any amount of cash he’s no fun at all on skates.”

  “I may not be, either. I’m out of practice.”

  “Well, you won’t get any better as long as you hang on to the rail. Come on, Kitten. I won’t let you fall.”

  He gave her a brilliant smile as she released her death grip and slowly reached out to him. Penn’s hands were warm as they closed gently over hers, and for the first few minutes they simply swept along, catching the rhythm of the music and translating it into their stride. It was fun — she had forgotten how much fun — to swoop and glide and almost float around the rink.

  Penn spun her around till she was skating backward, at arm’s length from him, with her elbows locked. She couldn’t help stealing a fearful glance over her shoulder, though she knew the movement was almost guaranteed to break the rhythm of her stride and send her spinning.

  His hold tightened reassuringly, and slowly he began to draw her closer, until their clasped hands were pressed against his chest.

  The lyrics of the song, the vibration that tingled up from her toes through her entire body, the warmth of his hands holding hers, all brought back such strong memories that they conspired to leave Kaitlyn practically breathless. The music was loud, and the drone of a hundred skates made it too difficult to talk, and so they only swept along together, hands clasped, alone in a bubble of silence within the noisy rink.

  Then the music slowed slightly, and segued into a softer, gentler rhythm. “Do you still remember how to waltz on skates?” Penn asked.

  Remember? How could she ever forget waltzing with him, both at the rink and on their prom night, for one brief number before they were caught and almost thrown out of the ballroom?

  This is dangerous, Kaitlyn told herself. I must stop this now. I must get back to safer ground — I must break this spell.

  “Me remember?” she protested lightly. “You’re the one who ruined an expensive dress because you lost track of your feet and stepped on the hem.”

  “Slander. Sheer slander. I did not lose track of my feet; I knew exactly where my feet were. It was the dress that got in the wrong place. Good thing you’re not wearing one tonight.” He shifted his grip slightly and drew her closer still. “Ready?”

  One waltz, she thought, and then I’m going home.

  She’d forgotten how much concentration it took to maintain her balance i
n the sweeping turns and to keep her steps in perfect rhythm with his. In an ordinary ballroom, a minor error might mean a stepped-on toe, but here on the rink the same small glitch could send both partners tumbling into the wall. Being kicked by a roller skate was no small injury, and it had happened to each of them more than once when they’d first started practicing.

  Kaitlyn noticed vaguely that the crowd around them seemed to be thinning out, but it wasn’t until the music had slowed and stopped, and they glided to a halt at the rail, that she realized that they had finished the waltz entirely alone. There was a smattering of applause, and she flashed a grin at Penn and went automatically into her favorite trick — a low bow and spin. But something went radically wrong, and she ended up sprawled on the highly-polished floor with the breath knocked out of her.

  Penn looked down at her dispassionately. “I was going to suggest that if we worked hard enough at it we could do a polka. But if you’re just going to lie around on the floor like this, Kitten—”

  “I might as well,” she gasped. “My timing is shot.”

  He smiled and hauled her to her feet, and as the music picked up again, he drew her back into his arms and pushed away from the wall, and she forgot altogether that she had been intending to leave.

  When the music stopped for the final time, and the lights came up to normal, Kaitlyn was startled to see how few skaters remained.

  “All the kids had to go home to meet curfew,” Penn said. “It’s one of the advantages of being a grown-up.”

  Kaitlyn glanced at the clock and shook her head in surprise. “I had no idea it was so late. Where’s Stephanie and the rest of the crowd?”

  Penn shrugged. “That’s one of the disadvantages of being a grown-up — they had to take all the kids home.” He gave her a crooked grin.

  They made one last slow circle of the rink, and the benches at the entrance were empty by the time they sat down to remove their skates. Even the rink’s owner had gone to the far end of the building to begin turning off the lights, so they were alone.

  Kaitlyn extracted her foot from her right boot and winced at the burning tenderness in her heel. “I’m going to have blisters,” she groaned.