Chasing Sunsets Part 31

"When did you schedule their return?"

"I suggested they return just before you and Anise come . . . and the boys."

If I'm still here . . .

"Sounds good."

"I mean, it's just me and . . . how much of a mess can I make of things?"

Dad didn't answer the question. Instead, he said, "Andre called. Heather has been admitted into a rehab center."

"You're kidding . . . he did it."

"We can't see her, he said. No one can. Not for a while. And, they're going to want all of us in some kind of family counseling." Dad exhaled. "I dunno . . ."

It took a moment to realize where my father was heading with his thoughts. "Dad, we have to. You have to. For Heather. For her children, though children they hardly are anymore."

I heard Dad's deep sigh. "Well, let's just wait and see what G.o.d allows."

"All right, Dad. But if I'm asked to go, I'm going."

"Each of us has to do what we feel is best for the time. When it happens, we'll see where things are. Until then, let's just keep her and Andre in our prayers, shall we?"

"Of course, Dad."

I hung up the phone and tried, for a moment, to take in all that had happened in less than three weeks. I walked out of a courtroom feeling defeated by my ex-husband and into the arms of a man I'd hardly thought of in years. I'd reluctantly left my home in Orlando to stay in Cedar Key to find a housekeeper and now, perhaps, would remain for the summer. I'd been forced to face my mother's alcoholism and I'd come to accept that my sister's fate, without intervention, could be similar. And I'd come to realize that not all of life was in my control, that some things happen seemingly for all the wrong reasons but, in reality, for all the right.

If only we let go and let G.o.d.

I looked at my watch. In just a few hours I'd know an all-important truth: either Steven was everything he appeared to be or Rosa was less a sister/friend than I'd known her to be. I bit my lip and blinked back tears.

In that moment, it was impossible to know which truth would hurt the least.

30.

It was too hot outside to do anything but melt, so I decided to waste time with a little shopping in some of the local art galleries and specialty shops. Hours later, I returned home loaded down with a few new pieces of hand-blown gla.s.s jewelry, a sa.s.sy black halter dress, and a multi-colored Billabong floppy hat-all of which I planned to wear that evening-and a book about the island and its history. Somewhere between the car and the front door, while balancing to keep from falling over an anxious Max, my cell phone rang from a pocket inside my purse.

I couldn't search and answer without threat of an untimely death by falling; once I got inside and dropped my purchases on the sofa, I drew it out and checked to see who'd called.

Chase.

I called him right back.

"Is it true?" he asked without saying h.e.l.lo.

"Is what true?" I dropped to the sofa and started taking my purchases out, starting with the dress.

"That you have a boyfriend?"

I dropped the dress; it fell to my lap, slipped over my knees, and formed a puddle at my feet. "Who told you that?"

"Pop."

"When did you talk with Dad?"

"Just a little while ago."

"Did you call him or did he call you?" I frowned with the question. It was just like Dad to plow ahead with news before I had a chance to talk to my sons.

"Mom, does it matter? He told me that you have a boyfriend in Cedar Key and that we're all going there after we're done here at Dad's. Is it true?"

I picked up the dress and draped it over my lap. "Yes." When my oldest had nothing else to say, I added, "How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. I mean, I guess I'm happy for you. Do you think it's serious?"

I blinked slowly. "Could be."

"Who is he?"

"Pop didn't tell you?"

"He only said he's some old boyfriend."

I laughed then. "Yes. His name is Steven Granger. I met him when I was just a little girl. He lived here on the island and . . . when we were teenagers we were an item, I guess you could say."

"Oh no. I don't wanna know about the goofy back-when-you-were-a-kid stuff . . . seriously, Mom."

"Okay, okay. I know it's hard to imagine your mother as a teenager and crazy in love."

"Repeat: do not want to hear this."

"Have you told Cody?"

"Not yet. Do you want me to?"

"Maybe I'd better. He's . . . I think Cody's heart still breeds hope that your father and I will somehow get back together."

"You're right there, Mom."

I raked my bottom lip with my teeth. "Oh, Chase . . . I don't want to hurt him. Either of you. I want . . . I hope you two will come here to Cedar Key and meet Steven and . . ."

"And maybe be like a family?"

If only I knew . . . "Maybe. Time will tell, huh."

"Dad is still our dad, though, Mom."

I closed my eyes. "I know that, son. And I don't want . . . wouldn't want to change that. Not for anything. With everything wrong that happened in our marriage-even the parts I'm not quite sure of-Charlie gave me the greatest gifts I could have ever hoped to receive."

After a pause, my oldest said, "Well, me . . . yeah. But Cody . . . that remains to be seen."

I smiled and raised my eyes heavenward. "I miss you so much, son."

"I miss you too, Mom. And on that note . . . I have to go. If Dad finds out I've been on the phone during work hours, he'll probably call off going to the beach for dinner tonight."

"Sounds like fun. Tell Code I'll call him tomorrow afternoon, okay? And tell him that I love him."

"Will do."

"I love you."

"You too. See ya, Mom."

I was as ready as a prosecuting attorney when Steven arrived. I resolved myself to keep an emotional distance until I had fully questioned the "suspect," but the accused had me completely undone the moment he walked in the front door.

"Wow," he said, blinking. "You. Look. Fantastic."

I didn't answer, though inside I'm sure I blushed.

"And when I say fantastic, what I mean is fantastic."

His arms slipped around my waist; the silk of the dress tickled my skin. He pressed his lips against mine and, help me, I didn't protest. "I've got something to tell you," he murmured against my mouth.

"Yeah, I've got something to tell you too."

His eyes searched mine. "Let's save it. Save them both. I've got something special planned for this evening so we can share our little secrets later." He tugged at the brim of my hat. "I'm glad you've got this on. It's cute."

When we got in Steven's car, he gave me a hint: we were going to Mill House Road on the east side of the island. "Okay," I said. Nothing more. Just "okay." In fact, I stayed silent pretty much the whole drive, but Steven talked nonstop. "There's a house over there I've been looking at for a while. The listing was a little pricier than I wanted to pay, but it recently dropped." He shot a quick look my way. "But before I do anything, I want your opinion, so you'll have to tell me what you think, okay? And be honest. Don't just say you like it because you think I do."

"Sure." I swallowed. "Is it listed with Rosa?"

"Rosa? No." He grinned. "There are other real estate offices on the island, you know."

I didn't know whether to be relieved or worried. What if Steven had avoided Rosa's office precisely because of what she'd said earlier about him? About them. Then again, hadn't he said that he rented from one of Rosa's places?

I asked the question pestering me. "Why did you rent from Rosa?"

He shrugged. "It was available, it was furnished, and it was in my price range," he said. "When Dad got sick, I had to move fast. You know what I mean?"

"I know." I forced a smile. "Tell me more about the house."

"It was built in the twenties, but it's in fine shape. Been renovated. Main thing for me is that it has a dock and a boathouse." He kept his focus on the road. "By the way, how do you feel about cleaning fish?"

"I think it's disgusting, why?"

Looking through the side of his sungla.s.ses I could see him roll his eyes. "Some fishwife you'd make."

Fishwife. I wasn't ready to go there. "So what is this about cleaning fish?"

"There's a place for that."

"Well, I hope you and your fish are very happy."

He laughed. "All right then. I'll teach your sons."

"Cody will love it."

"Good." Traffic in front of us was building; Steven slowed the Jeep. "There are also four bedrooms."

I watched the familiar scenery on both sides of the road. The long straight sidewalks, the cottages, the church and the market. "Won't that be too much for one person?"

"I'm hoping it won't be just one person."

My breath caught in my throat. "Steven . . ."

Steven slowed the car to a stop at the crossroads of D and 2nd, right across from the bookstore I'd shopped in earlier that day. He rested his elbow along the back of the seat and shifted his weight before pulling off his sungla.s.ses. His eyes met my reluctant glance with more pa.s.sion than I dared try to focus on. "I know. I'm moving too fast. But the way I'm feeling . . . like I haven't felt in years . . . time can't possibly move fast enough."

"But still, Steven. Just so we're clear. I don't believe in . . . um . . . spending the night, let's say, before marriage."

He shifted back to face front and pulled onto 2nd. "Good," he said. "Because I don't either."

I returned to silent mode. Steven continued on 2nd, slowly cruising past the places that had started stirring my heart again. As familiar as my childhood, and just as precious. Steven pulled into Old Mill. We only had to drive a short distance before he parked, got out, and walked around the Jeep to open my door while I stared at the rambling blue and white Victorian with a wraparound balcony along the second floor. The pa.s.senger door opened, and Steven extended his hand. "Isn't she fantastic?"

I slipped out of the car. "Fantastic? Isn't that what you said about me not too long ago?"

"Ouch," he said with a laugh. "Sorry." He kissed my cheek near my ear; in the heat my flesh tingled. "You look fantastic. The house is . . ." He looked over his shoulder at it and laughed again. "I can't come up with another word."

"Sprawling."

He looked at me again. "It's over three thousand square feet."

I kept my eyes away from his and on the house. "Do you have a key?"

"Of course I do." He closed the pa.s.senger door. "What do you think so far?"

I was torn. I knew he wanted it not just for him, but for me. For us. But if what Rosa had said was true, there would be no "us." "What kind of kitchen does it have?" I asked, peering at him through the lenses of my sungla.s.ses.

Steven grinned. "So I'll catch 'em, the boys will clean 'em, and you'll fry 'em up."

I wiggled my shoulder. "Maybe." Palm fronds danced around us in the light breeze. "It's getting pretty hot out here. Why don't you show me the inside?"

The house was beautiful and blessedly air-conditioned. Every room was rich with glossy oak flooring, semi-gloss pure-white paint, and cypress wainscoting and trim. Each had ample natural light from the oversized windows. There wasn't a stick of furniture anywhere except in the sunroom; it offered a white wicker settee and two oversized chairs. "Comes with the house," Steven said, and I nodded.