by Lyn Cote
“I must say that I like what you are wearing tonight, Jane,” Tom said appreciatively.
“It’s Lucy’s.” Jane swayed slightly, letting her full skirt ripple.
Tish sniffed. “It looks like one of those weird square dancing dresses old women wear.”
“Not even a little.” Lucy’s voice came out cold and clear. She stood right beside the suddenly flushed Tish.
Over the hubbub, Lucy announced that dinner was ready and please would they all find their places out on the porch.
Tom steered Jane out onto the porch and located their name cards. Reading the other name cards at the main table, Jane found that Aunt Estelle, Uncle Henry, Tish, her parents and Lucy were to be joined by Cash and Angie.
Lucy had said nothing to her about inviting Tom north for a week. Is Grandmother trying to take my mind off Cash? She told me I could choose to find someone else. Jane glanced at Tom. He had always seemed a little overly serious, but she had no doubt he would make an excellent husband and father—if she were looking for one.
“Let’s sit down.” Tom gently guided her into her chair. “I’m happy your grandmother seated me next to you,” he whispered into her ear. “I think I am going to enjoy this week off. I had forgotten how lovely the Everett women are.” His compliment was balm to her shredded pride. She smiled up at him.
* * *
As Cash watched Jane smile at Tom, he numbly put Angie in her high chair. Jane’s dad’s best man from thirty-five years ago rose and led them all in a toast to many more happy years for Marge and Phil. The glasses clinked. There was applause and the salads were brought out efficiently. The tables hummed with happy conversation.
Cash watched Jane’s parents touch glasses again and exchange a look charged with love. He looked away as though he had come upon them kissing. His eyes touched Tish, and she smiled at him. He smiled briefly in reply, then turned to the task of helping Angie with her meal. He was glad that feeding Angie gave him something to do. In spite of having to keep up with Angie’s demands and his trying to eat enough of the delicious food in front of him to be polite, he still found his attention being drawn in two directions: to Jane’s face and to her parents.
All through the meal, Tom kept murmuring into Jane’s ear, making her smile, nod, laugh. Cash was possessed by an urge to bump Tom off the chair next to Jane and take it for himself. Why? Tom was a nice guy. In the past, he’d dated both Jane and Dena. So why did Cash want to suddenly do him bodily harm?
The other irresistible draw was Marge and Phil. At every possible opportunity their hands touched; their eyes sought out the other. There seemed to be a warm glow around them, unseen, but still evident. He had always liked the Everetts, but never had Marge looked lovelier and Phil more content, fulfilled.
The meal finally came to a close with a flaming dessert. Another toast was observed for the Everetts.
Then Lucy rose majestically. “Friends and family, tonight is a very happy evening for me. Watching my son live happily with this wonderful woman for the last thirty-five years has been an untold blessing to me.
“I know personally that it has been a happy and successful time for both Marge and Phil. So Jane and I, with Cash’s assistance, planned a special gift to honor them. Will you all come into the living room to view its presentation?” She motioned everyone to rise, then led them back into the long room.
In front of the vaulted stone fireplace, an easel, draped in white, had been set up in their absence. Without another word, Lucy marched directly to it and swept the cloth aside.
Cash stared at Jane’s likeness. The peach dress, her copper hair and the white wicker were harmonious, sunlit and lovely. Glorious. Spontaneous applause swept the room, and he watched Jane blush at its sound. People came forward, shaking Jane’s hand, patting her shoulder and hugging her. Cash’s attention alternated between Jane’s portrait and Jane herself.
Cash watched Lucy, Marge, Phil and Jane being pushed forward to stand beside the portrait and accept more congratulations. When Tom came up and kissed Jane’s cheek, Cash felt a charge of heat flood his face. Many phones were raised to photograph the family around the portrait. Angie, in Cash’s arms, cried for Jane, and he had to give the baby to her. Awkwardly he stepped out of camera range.
“If I may have your attention please,” Phil raised his voice and the gathered friends became quiet. Jane, holding Angie, stood beside Lucy. “I won’t talk a long time, but this is one of those rare opportunities when a man can speak about what really matters in life.
“It goes almost without saying that I am a fortunate man. You all know my mother and so you will believe me when I tell you that she was not surprised in the least when I came home from the first day of ninth grade and told her I had met the girl I was going to marry. Her name was Marjorie. When I think of all the men who waste years vainly trying to find their true love, I am very grateful. God said, ‘It is not good for man to be alone’ and He has blessed me with a true helpmeet.” He smiled broadly and tightened his arm around Marge.
“This portrait is a lovely gift, but Marge and I received another gift this year. Our first grandchild. Jane, bring Angie here please.”
Jane walked the few feet to her parents. Her father lifted Angie into his arms. “Of all the gifts we could have received this year, having this little girl become part of our family has been the best. Don’t you agree, Marge?”
“Yes, losing dear Dena was sad,” Marge spoke softly. “But Angie is a precious trust from Dena. We will do our best to live up to Dena’s faith in us—along with Jane and Cash, of course.”
“Thank you all for coming to celebrate this occasion tonight.” Phil motioned everyone outside where on a portable dance floor, the musicians began to play a slow dance.
Cash was shaking inside. Phil Everett’s simple words of gratitude to God for his wife’s love had shaken Cash to his core. Cash looked around and realized that Tish was standing beside him. She had a discontented expression on her face.
Jane approached them, carrying Angie. “Cash, would you hold Angie. Tom has asked me to dance.”
Without saying a word, Cash took Angie. The little girl yawned.
Cash said, “Tish, would you get Angie’s bottle and warm it? It’s nearly her bedtime.”
“Sure,” Tish said.
Cash watched Tom lead Jane out onto the patio, then take her into his arms for a slow dance. Cash’s jaw clenched. He turned away and walked down the back hall to the master bedroom. There, a folding crib stood in the corner next to a cushioned, platform rocker.
Cash laid Angie down in the crib, which held diapers and clothing in Angie’s size. He murmured softly as he took her out of her fancy dress, changed her diaper and snapped her into her lightweight summer pajamas.
“Here’s her bottle,” Tish said, still sounding disgruntled.
Cash sat down in the rocker, positioned Angie across his lap, tucked his arm under her and took her bottle from Tish. With a contented sigh, Angie stopped fretting and relaxed in her uncle’s arms.
Tish flopped down on the end of the bed. Cash looked up. “You don’t need to stay here. You’ll miss all the fun.”
“Fun!” Tish scowled at him. “A bunch of old people. Mother said if I didn’t come tonight, she wouldn’t take me shopping to Wausau. I couldn’t make her change her mind—”
“Of course you had to come tonight. It’s a family event,” he said mildly. “You’re fortunate to have such a wonderful family—”
“Wonderful?”
“Yes, wonderful. Did you ask your parents if you could bring an escort—”
“No way. I wouldn’t bring anyone from school. I have the weirdest family—”
“I don’t think they’re weird,” Cash insisted. “They’re just highly individual—”
“Weird. My grandmother’s wearing an old dress—”
“It’s a Balenciaga original—”
“It’s like a hundred years old, for crying out loud. And Jane is wearing a
thirty-year-old dress—just because it was the dress...” Tish’s voice became dramatic as she imitated her mother’s voice. “‘The dress Mother bought on her last trip to Paris with Father.’” Her tone hardened abruptly. “Who cares?”
“I do.” Lucy’s voice startled both of them.
Tish and Cash swiveled to watch Lucy enter. “You are talking nonsense—”
Tish stood up combatively, her chin thrust forward. “I don’t care. What do I care about Grandfather? He was dead five years before I was born.”
“He was your mother’s father,” Lucy said in deadly calm. “You are a part of him. He lives through you. And will live on through your children.”
Tish made a sound of disgust.
Lucy’s face became scarlet.
Cash suddenly was worried about her. “Lucy, sit down. You’re flushed—”
Lucy ignored him, her attention riveted on Tish’s face. Her voice came out low and outraged, “I never thought I would hear anything so devoid of true feeling come from a relation of mine.”
Tish’s face now matched Lucy’s shade of red. “You’ve always hated me. It’s always Jane, Jane—”
“I have never hated you,” Lucy went on relentlessly. “I’ve only hated the way your parents have overindulged you. The minute you were born, they let you take over their family—”
“No, that’s not true. My parents never let me do anything I want. They didn’t let me be Aquarama Queen.”
“You know yourself that only junior and senior girls are expected—”
“I don’t care!” Tish stomped her foot. “If you can wear hundred-year-old dresses, why can’t I be Aquarama Queen a year early?”
“The two situations are completely different. A Paris original is a work of art. Can a true work of art go out of style? I don’t wear my originals to be different. I wear them, so that others can see them and enjoy them.”
“I don’t care why you wear them. It’s stupid.”
Tish glared at Lucy. Lucy stared back, not giving an inch to Tish’s defiance.
“Granddaughter, I have only one thing more to say to you. Pride goeth before a fall.” Majestically raising her hand, Lucy prevented Tish’s retort. “Go wash the tears off your face and go back to the party.”
Tish made a face at her grandmother and stomped out. Lucy shook her head. “How did Angie fall asleep through all that?”
Cash looked down at the sleeping child. “I don’t know. I think her ears were effectively muffled by my arm and chest.”
“I’ll take over now.” Lucy held out her arms.
“No, that’s all right. You go back. You’re the hostess—”
“I am an exhausted hostess. Cash, I’m in my seventies—”
Cash stood up and transferred Angie to Lucy’s arms. He didn’t want to go back out to the party, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t leave the party so early without calling attention to himself.
He stood outside the door at the end of the porch. Against clear instructions to the contrary, his eyes insisted on picking out Jane. She was still dancing with Tom. Cash made himself turn his attention elsewhere, and his gaze caught Phil and Marge just as they kissed lightly. The people around them smiled and nodded. As Phil began talking to another couple, he tucked Marge closer to him.
The song ended. The band took its first break. Once again disobeying him, Cash’s eyes roamed over the gathering and picked out Jane.
Tom stood beside her as they talked to another couple. Tom’s arm rested possessively on Jane’s shoulders. Cash watched Jane grin up at Tom and playfully punch his chin. Tom laughed and squeezed Jane’s arm. Jane moved closer into Tom’s embrace.
Cash hurried from the room without a backward glance. He ducked out a side door to the back hall and then outside. Skirting the house he sought cover in the long evening shadows of the trees.
Farther down the bank beside the Everetts’ boathouse, the dock projected out into the dusky water. His footsteps thudded rapidly down its length. Waves lapped against the shore and the pontoon boat moored there. He stepped onto the pontoon, knowing the boathouse and canvas cover over the boat would shield him from the house windows above.
He scanned the opposite shoreline automatically. But instead of seeing the scene of the lake and pine trees, he saw faces—Lucy, Dena, Phil, Marge, Jane. Then all the faces faded and one stood out alone—Jane’s.
“Cash.” His name was murmured from behind.
He turned to face Jane. She took one more step forward. He was instantly aware of her intense concentration on him.
He struggled with himself, but he could not stir himself to speak. He turned sideways from her, keeping his taut face out of the light, not wanting to let her read his confusion. He watched Jane, silhouetted in the ebbing sunlight, continue to stare at him as though nerving herself to say something.
The lowering sun’s rays caught the brilliance of her hair, and a shimmering halo lit up her face, her reddish-gold hair, creamy skin, clear green eyes. He allowed his gaze to be drawn down the line of her perfect chin. He wanted to draw her into his arms, press his face into her neck and inhale the cinnamon scent that whispered, “Jane,” enticingly.
He reached for her, pulled her close. He let his eyes close in anticipation as he bent to kiss her. But his lips met her hand, not her lips.
His eyes opened.
“No,” Jane said firmly. “No more empty kisses.”
“What?” His voice was low and thick with emotion.
“Cash, I have loved you since you kissed me on my sixteenth birthday, but you never even noticed.” She repeated, “You never even noticed. No more. Tonight I declare my independence from your hold over me. You don’t love me. You never will. I accept this tonight, and I won’t let it cripple the rest of my life. No more empty proposals from you. No more foolish hopes from me. You don’t love me. And now my heart is closed to you.”
With that she turned and walked away slowly and deliberately. He listened numbly to her high heels tap evenly on the wooden pier. Then she was out of sight, the boathouse blocking his view.
He felt as though someone had plunged a needle into his chest and was using it to draw his heart out of him. He winced with the pain.
“I love you, Jane,” he gasped. Unspoken, more painful realizations ribboned through his mind: I’ve loved you for months. How could I have missed how much I need you?
Chapter 12
“I took your advice. I told Cash my heart was closed to him.” Jane felt her jaw harden on the word, closed. In Lucy’s sitting room, Jane sat with Angie on her lap while Angie unknowingly posed for the miniature Lucy was painting for Cash.
“Oh, dear.” Lucy’s brush stilled.
“I can’t waste my life—”
“I know, my dear. You don’t need to explain to me. It’s just that I can’t believe Cash can be so mutton-headed or do I mean muddle-headed?”
“Mutton-headed sounds good to me,” Jane replied drily.
Angie twisted in Jane’s lap, looking up at her. The little girl squirmed onto her knees and rested her head against Jane’s breast.
Jane swallowed tears and hugged Angie.
“Now let’s turn around for Grandmother,” Jane coaxed Angie. Angie obediently slid onto her seat again.
“I’m almost done, sweetheart,” Lucy cooed and began painting with careful, intricate strokes.
“Where’s Tom this afternoon?” Jane asked.
“He wanted to do some shopping in town. Are you certain, Jane, that you’re not—” Lucy stopped her question.
“I’m not misleading Tom,” Jane said quietly. “He is a fine man. He and I have known each other almost our whole lives. Wasn’t that what you were thinking when you invited him here?” Jane paused.
“Perhaps.” Lucy kept her eyes on her work in progress.
“And I have decided that I don’t want Angie and me to be alone for the next twenty years—”
At this Lucy stepped around the easel. “You’v
e truly closed your heart to Cash completely?”
Jane pursed her lips. “Yes. I told you.”
“I see.” Lucy looked at her granddaughter.
“I want to marry. I don’t want Angie to be an only child. I want more children, Grandmother.”
Lucy nodded solemnly. “I wanted a houseful, but it wasn’t to be. I hope you have better luck. The miniature’s finished, Jane.”
Jane swung Angie into her arms and stood up. On her grandmother’s easel was an oval about two inches by three. In such a small oval, there was only room for Angie’s round, cheerful face.
“Beautiful. Simply beautiful.” Jane kissed her grandmother’s cheek.
“Thank you, dear. But really it would have been impossible to make Angie look anything but darling.”
The two women stood side by side. Angie clapped her hands.
“Lucy!” They heard Tom call as he came in the back door.
Lucy replied, “Come in, Tom, and see Angie’s miniature. I’ve just finished it”
He came quickly and stood behind the three females. “How delightful. You look great, kid.” He ruffled the raven curls on top of Angie’s head. “How about a swim, Jane?”
Her eyes connected with his. She let a smile take over her mouth. “Angie, too?”
“Delighted to have her. Did she bring her trunks?” he teased.
“It’s a gracious invitation, Tom,” Lucy interposed, “but I think Angie should take a long rock on my lap and maybe sleep.”
“Still game then?” Tom asked.
Jane kept her smile in place, but the tug of tears caught at the back of her throat. When would she stop teetering on the brink of tears, moment by moment? Giving up a many year fascination with Cash wasn’t going to be easy.
But in only a matter of minutes Tom and Jane were thundering down the end of Lucy’s pier. As they had done thousands of times in the summers of their childhood, they both jumped off the end.
Surfacing, Jane smoothed her wet hair back from her face and looked around for Tom. She turned a complete circle and then called, “Tom—”
