In His Dreams (11 page)

Jeff said thanks, then clasped Marsha’s hand and led her across the parking lot to the lighthouse. “Want to go inside?”

She nodded but her thoughts stayed back with Bonnie. She found it amazing how her niece had taken to painting. She’d become a different person, much quieter and purposeful. “I’m so happy to see Bonnie having fun with the drawing.”

“Thanks for coming up with the idea. I wasn’t aware she had a talent like that, and it dawned on me today that I’ve been treating her like a child instead of a preteen.” He told her about having Bonnie help prepare her lunch, but he avoided relating he’d been motivated by the tantrum. “I have to do that more often.”

“Kids who feel part of the family are better behaved. She has been acting more grown-up. I noticed it since she’s started drawing. I think she feels some pride in her ability.” She’d run out of air on the last sentence. The climb to the top of the lighthouse was on a tedious circular staircase that seemed unending.

Near the top, Jeff paused to look out a window over the parking lot. Marsha squeezed beside him to catch the view. Bonnie looked like a speck nestled between the two older women, and she was concentrating so hard on her drawing it made Marsha smile.

At the very top, Marsha stood at the metal railing and gazed at the view—water, trees and the parking lot. Jeff closed the distance between them and slid his arm around her waist.

“Beautiful day,” she said, giving him a smile.

“Beautiful woman,” he said.

The look in his eyes made her weak. “We’d better get back down,” she said, not responding to his comment.

He gave her waist a squeeze, then released her, and they made their way to the ground, much easier than the climb up.

With no chairs, Marsha sat on the grass in the shade of the lighthouse, and Jeff settled beside her. Bonnie sat only a short distance away, and Marsha knew they would be patient and wait until she was ready to go. Anything else could cause an uproar and today seemed too nice to let that happen. Anyway, they weren’t in a hurry.

Jeff pulled a blade of grass from the ground and ran his fingernail down the middle, dividing it in two. “I was thinking it might be fun to do something. Just the two of us.” He tossed the shredded blade and looked at her. “What do you think?”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “Maybe a sunset boat cruise. A cruiser in port takes tourists out on different trips—to see the sunset and to visit some of the outer islands. You’ve seen her in port.
Island Time.
I figured the sunset cruise might be fun.”

“It would be cheaper to look at it from the beach.”

He chuckled. “But not as nice. We could have dinner first. Do you think Barb would watch Bonnie?”

“You’d have to ask.” Her pulse skipped at the thought of a sunset cruise with Jeff. She needed to keep her distance, not put herself into a romantic situation, but she couldn’t make herself say no.

“I will when we get back.”

Marsha pulled her gaze from his and saw Bonnie heading their way. She’d left her paints behind, but she carried the sketchbook. “Look,” she said, holding up a good likeness of the yellow stone lighthouse.

“Good job,” Jeff said, patting the grass beside him.

Bonnie sat and leaned against him. “I’m hungry.”

“We’ll head back, then.”

“Can I come here tomorrow?”

“You want to come back
here?
”

“Nancy and Celia said the lighthouse is prettier in the morning with the sun on it.”

“Nancy and Celia?” Jeff chuckled.

“The old ladies. That’s their names.”

Jeff looked at Marsha and rolled his eyes. “I hope you didn’t call them old ladies.”

“I did, but they already know. They told me.”

Jeff released a lengthy breath and shook his head.

“Aunt Marsha can come, too,” Bonnie said, totally oblivious to Jeff’s concern that she’d been rude to the women.

Marsha saw Jeff ready to reprimand Bonnie, and she cut in. “I can’t come in the morning. I want to go to church.”

“Church?” Bonnie scowled and looked at Jeff with questioning eyes. “Why don’t we go to church?”

Jeff cringed, and Marsha had a mixture of emotion—sorry for his discomfort but pleased Bonnie had asked.

“We just don’t,” Jeff said.

He didn’t look at Marsha, and she sensed his uneasiness.

“Mommy took me to Sunday school and church, and you went to church, too.”

“Yes, I used to go. I don’t, anymore.”

“Why?”

Marsha held her breath.

“Because, Bonnie, and don’t ask any more questions.”

Bonnie didn’t let Jeff’s stern tone dissuade her. “I want to go tomorrow.”

The frown on Jeff’s face deepened.

“I’ll take her,” Marsha said, longing for him to go, too, but fearing, if she pushed it, he would deprive Bonnie of the opportunity.

He shrugged. “You can go with Aunt Marsha if you want.”

“Okay.” Bonnie put her hand on her hip and grinned up at him. “And then we can come back to the lighthouse.”

M
arsha stepped from the shower and grasped the bath towel to dry herself. She couldn’t believe she’d accepted a date with Jeff. A friendly date, she kept reminding herself.

This morning she’d been disappointed. She’d driven to Jeff’s to pick up Bonnie for church, and she’d prayed that he would go with them, but he hadn’t. He’d waved to her and Barb from the doorway as Bonnie, who’d looked surprisingly timid, had walked to her car, neatly dressed and carrying a Bible under her arm. Marsha wondered if the Bible had been Bonnie’s idea or Jeff’s.

Marsha had leaned out the window. “We’ll be at Beaver Island Christian Church on Kenwabikise Lane.”

He’d lifted his hand as if he understood, then had faded from view while Marsha’s hope had dipped like a boat on rough seas.

When the brick-colored church with its white shutters had come into view, Marsha had sent up a prayer, fearing Bonnie’s behavior, but she’d handled the service well and had asked for help finding the Bible verses. Both Marsha and Barb had let her know how proud they’d been and, when they’d returned after church, Marsha had followed Bonnie inside to tell Jeff how well things had gone, but he’d only said thanks and reminded her he’d pick her up at seven for dinner. She sensed his distance. Tonight she wanted to know why.

Dinner at seven. Marsha’s stomach did a tumble as she wiped the steam from the mirror, then draped the towel over the bar. Her skin looked rosy from the hot water and probably from the sun she’d gotten while tanning on the beach in the early afternoon.

Jeff had convinced Bonnie they’d go to the lighthouse another day, but Marsha wished he’d agreed and would have invited her to go along so she could find out what was bugging him. She didn’t understand him at times.

Marsha moisturized, then slipped on her robe and added lotion to her face. So far at forty-two, she’d escaped the typical aging wrinkles, and she figured the daily face cream had kept her looking young. Young. She rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror. Forty-two wasn’t young, anymore.

With age on her mind, she recalled that Jeff was a couple years younger than she was. Men of forty were usually interested in women much younger not older. She heaved a sigh and forced the thought from her mind.

By six-thirty, Marsha was ready to don the only dress she’d brought to the island. Dating hadn’t even been a vague notion when she’d packed. Dating. The whole idea set her on edge. Dinner with a friend. That was all it was.

She slid the rust-colored sheath over her head. The simple rounded neckline looked plain so she added a gold necklace with an orange fire opal that sparkled shades of coral and red. Don had bought it for her on their only cruise, a trip to Mexico. They’d dreamed of many trips together, but nothing so romantic had occurred again before his illness. Putting on a pair of gold earrings and tucking her slightly damp hair behind her ears, Marsha wandered into the living room and onto the porch to let the sun dry her hair.

“Thanks for watching Bonnie,” she said when Barb finally looked up from her writing.

“You’re welcome. I need a break from this, anyway. My hand is getting cramped.”

“Silly we didn’t bring the laptop, but then who would have known my sister would become a novelist while we were gone?”

Barb gave a grunt and erased Marsha’s comment with her hand. “I’m just scribbling words, but I’m enjoying it more than I ever imagined. It’s good for me.”

Though fearing she was treading dangerous ground, Marsha said it, anyway. “Good in what way?”

Barb’s brow flickered with a frown, then she shrugged. “To see if I have a talent.”

Marsha knew the novel meant more than that. Her sister seemed to have shifted from reading novels to writing one with the same energy. The idea amazed her and definitely aroused her curiosity.

Jeff’s voice sounded from the back of the house.

“You’re early,” Marsha said.

“I know. Bonnie couldn’t wait.”

She grinned. “It’s not a problem. I’m ready.”

“I see that.” He scanned her from head to toe. “You look amazing.”

She eyed his dark pants and beige sports jacket over a cream-colored shirt. “Thanks. You don’t look bad yourself.”

His eyes sparkled as his mouth curved into a smile. “We’ll knock ’em dead at Nina’s.”

Nina’s. She hadn’t eaten there in such a long time, and the image of their mixed-berry cobbler rose in her mind. Her appetite heightened a notch as she anticipated their dinner.

While Jeff strode to the deck to talk with Barb, Marsha went to her room to grab a wrap. She suspected the cruise could get cool in the evening. When she stepped into the hallway, Jeff caught her arm and steered her out the back door. “You must have told Barb about Bonnie’s helping to make her lunch.”

“I did. Why?”

“She said she’d let Bonnie help her make spaghetti.” He chuckled. “I don’t think she knows what she’s asking for. A sandwich and spaghetti are way different.”

“You might be surprised.”

He opened the passenger door. “I might be.”

Marsha’s thoughts headed back to Jeff’s silence this morning—not silence, exactly, but his avoidance of talking about church. Questions filled her mind and, knowing she could ruin a perfectly good evening, she plowed ahead, anyway. “What was up this morning?”

“This morning?” He glanced at her, a frown marring his good looks.”

“After church. You seemed uneasy. I hope you aren’t angry that I volunteered to take Bonnie with me. You could have said no.”

The frown eased. “I would have if I were set against it. I suppose she deserves to learn about God like I did when I was a kid.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.”

He clung to the steering wheel and didn’t add anything to his comment.

His silence didn’t deter her. “Then, what was it?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Jeff, you just told me yesterday that you wanted to be friends—good friends, you said. How can we be friends when you can’t be honest?” She gripped her handbag, fearing that she might set him off, but she had to make her point.

“I am being honest. What do you want me to say?”

“The truth? What’s troubling you.”

The fingers of his right hand balled into a fist. “Marsha, don’t make something out of nothing. I was just feeling…I don’t know…guilty, I guess. I should have taken Bonnie to church. What if she’d acted up?”

“She didn’t. She was very much a young lady today.”

“But what if?”

She laid her hand on his fist. “Jeff, don’t look for problems when they’re not there. You’ve lived so long dealing with Bonnie’s disability that you’ve forgotten that she can grow out of some of her behaviors.”

His fingers uncurled beneath her hand and he slipped them over hers with a squeeze. “You’re right. I’d given up hope, I suppose.”

She lowered her hand and shifted beneath her seat belt to look at him more directly. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m proud of what Bonnie’s done in these past few weeks, and I admire you so much for being a good father and doing what you could to teach her all the things you have.”

“But I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I—”

“Mistakes are to learn from. Dwell on what’s working now. You’ve done a great thing by beginning to teach her how to be self-sufficient. That’s a huge step.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“And don’t beat yourself when she backslides, because she will, but persistence and patience is the key, I think. She needs to learn that she’s a young woman now and not a little girl.”

“That’s what you’ve been trying to tell me all along, I think.”

Marsha nodded, but realized that was only part of it. Her mind slipped into the lingering thought created by Barb. Her sister’s fears had stayed with her and Marsha had begun to wonder whether Bonnie could ever be faced with the danger of a predator. How could she be protected? She looked at Jeff’s face, finally relaxing, and didn’t want to bring up that particular fear today. She’d caused him enough tension for one evening.

Jeff slowed the car and turned left, heading toward the restaurant. In a few moments, the white-sided sprawling building came into sight—Beaver Island Lodge & Nina’s, the sign said. Jeff pulled into a parking space and turned off the ignition, then twisted to face her. “I’m sorry I’m so dim-witted, Marsha.”

She pressed her index finger against his lips. “Shh! You’re no more dim-witted than anyone. Sometimes we’re too close to see a problem or its solution. You know, the old ‘can’t see the forest for the trees.’”

Jeff kissed her finger.

The soft touch lingered when she drew it away. “Ready?”

He grinned, then walked around to open her door and led her into the building, pausing at the dining-room entrance.

The maître d’ lifted two menus from beneath the stand. “Inside or on the patio?”

Jeff looked at her, and she shrugged, wanting him to decide.

“Inside by a window if that’s okay?” He gave her a questioning look and she nodded.

The maître d’ guided them to the table and presented them with menus. Marsha sat for a moment and looked out the window at the lowering sun glinting against the turquoise water rolling toward the sandy beach. She raised her eyes and saw Jeff watching her. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“And as I’ve said not long ago, you’re a beautiful woman.”

She drew in a breath and lowered her gaze. “You say things like that all the time. You embarrass me.”

“Why? You just told me to be truthful, and I am.”

“But—” She stumbled over the thoughts running through her head. I’m not supposed to be beautiful to you. I’m your friend. I’m only Marsha. Plain, old Marsha that you’ve known forever.

He gave her a look that she couldn’t read and opened his menu.

Marsha did the same, perusing the wonderful entrées. Fish, steaks and chicken dishes. She chose the chicken breast sautéed in a special cream sauce, fearing she wouldn’t have room for her favorite dessert.

When the waitress took their orders, Marsha turned her attention to Jeff. He looked so good in his sport jacket. She’d rarely seen him in dress clothes. Island life seemed to bring out the khakis or jeans—casual, comfortable garments that fit his calm demeanor.

“Speaking of beautiful,” she said, garnering courage, “you look very handsome tonight.”

He slipped his hand over hers. “Anything for a special friend.”

Marsha heard an undertone of playfulness in his voice and she harked back to their early talk about sticking to their friendship. He confused her, at times, and the inflection of his voice rattled her.

“It’s nice to be alone, for a change,” Jeff said, breaking the silence.

“It is.”

“Instead of hiding behind buildings.”

Marsha grinned, picturing them hidden behind the old Coast Guard boathouse. “Or climbing a lighthouse.”

He nodded. “Kids change lives. Marriages can lose the romance when the house is filled with kids.”

Or when kids have problems. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

His smile faded. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It was our choice, Jeff. You didn’t offend me. We decided to wait.” She drew in a deep breath. “And then we waited too long. God had other plans for us.”

He squeezed her hand. “Let’s just enjoy dinner.”

Marsha saw the serious look in his eyes and wished they’d never fallen into the topic. His comment about marriage losing its romance made her wonder. Had the stress of Bonnie affected his and Marilou’s relationship? If it had, he’d remained a faithful husband. She felt confident in that, and it gave her a new admiration for Jeff. Sometimes it was too easy to walk away from marriage. It wasn’t what God expected. Until death us do part. For better or worse. She’d said it herself.

During dinner, the conversation stayed on everyday things and, when the delicious meal came to a close, Jeff wouldn’t say no to buying her dessert. They finally agreed to share her favorite mixed-berry cobbler à la mode.

“Sorry,” Jeff said as his fork clanged against hers.

Marsha grinned and lashed toward him, her fork a foil as they pretended to engage in a fencing match over the dessert. Embarrassed at her exuberance, she felt heat rising in her cheeks.

“Ignore the other customers.” He brushed his fingers along her cheek. “They might envy our having fun.”

She shook her head and delved into the serving of berries and vanilla ice cream, enjoying the sweet-tart flavor.

Jeff took the last bite, then placed his fork on the plate and glanced at his watch. “We need to get moving.” He caught the waitress’s eye and motioned for the bill.

During the short ride to the marina, Jeff talked about his friend’s visit. “Captain Weede does outer-island cruises, too. I wonder if Al and his daughter might like to go. Bonnie would enjoy a cruise.”

“I’ve never been to the outer islands,” Marsha said, hoping for an invitation, but none came. She squelched the disappointment before it overtook her. “Since your friend is coming—and his daughter—I was thinking that I might take Bonnie to get her haircut. I’d like Bonnie to—” Meddling again. She stopped herself from saying more, but Jeff took over, saving her the problem.