Sunshine and Shadows (6 page)

"I was the official gin rummy dummy, but we crowned Megan the gin rummy queen that summer," Lisa said with forbearance as she opened the refrigerator door. Sometimes Lisa thought that Adele's memories of Megan were the only vivid part of her life.

"You made a golden crown out of gilt paper from an old wallpaper sample book and I played a song I'd composed for her on the piano," Adele said.

"Why don't you ever play the piano anymore, Adele?" Lisa asked. She poured orange juice into a glass and offered it to Adele, who waved it away.

"I've forgotten how. Anyway, it's out of tune. If you don't want to play cards, I'll watch TV. Are you sure you don't want to watch television for a while?" Adele asked.

Lisa shook her head, avoiding Adele's reproachful eyes. "Thanks Adele, but I'm bushed."

Lisa made a graceful exit to her bedroom, where she tossed her briefcase in the closet and dumped her cardigan into a drawer. Adele had straightened her room for her, one of the kindnesses that she liked to perform for Lisa. Whenever Lisa protested, Adele said that she enjoyed doing it because it was something she would have done for a daughter if she'd had one.

Lisa threw herself across the bed and stared at the telephone, willing it to reveal the name of her mysterious caller. It didn't ring again, and she finally fell asleep in her clothes. When she woke up it was one o'clock in the morning, and after she realized what time it was, she roused herself and stumbled into the bathroom, where she stared at her bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror.

It could have been Jay Quillian who had called, and now she would have to wait until Monday to see him again. If only Adele had asked the man his name, if only Adele would learn to take a message now and then. At this rate, Lisa thought irrationally, she'd never find a permanent relationship and she'd live here with Adele forever.

Which was probably exactly what Adele wanted, come to think of it.

* * *

Lisa didn't have to wait until Monday to see Jay after all.

On Saturday she was standing in line for the cashier at the drugstore, reflecting that there weren't that many eligible men left in the world and that few of them in her corner of it were particularly interesting. When she'd been twenty, she'd thought she had plenty of time to find the right man, but by the time she'd turned thirty, they all seemed to have disappeared.

At some point, she started thinking of herself as a woman, not a girl, but it was hard to remember that she wasn't young anymore when she looked in the mirror and saw round cheeks and wispy blond hair.

As for men, she'd never found one who offered more than a passing attraction. Since her last failed serious romance a couple of years ago, she'd dated a real-estate broker who'd badgered her about giving him an exclusive listing on her property with her body thrown in for good measure, a yacht salesman who entertained her on a cabin cruiser anchored so far out in the river that she'd almost drowned when she'd tried to swim back to shore after his unwelcome advances, and an automobile mechanic who'd wanted to tinker with more than her carburetor. Adele hadn't liked any of them, which was an aggravation at first, but Adele had been right in the end.

She was wondering idly what Adele would think of Jay Quillian when she glanced over her shoulder to see how many other people were waiting. At the end of the line stood Jay, holding a tube of toothpaste. A pair of dark glasses swung from a cord around his neck.

What a stroke of good luck,
Lisa thought, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

"Jay," she said, leaning around a woman behind her who carried a full basket. "If you'd like me to have your toothpaste rung up with my things, I'd be glad to."

His smile was wide with both recognition and relief. "Lisa! That would be great," he said, breaking out of line and handing the toothpaste over.

"You look as though you're in a hurry," she said as they inched toward the cash register.

"I am, sort of. I promised Connie Fernandez that I'd take her to visit horses at a ranch that belongs to a friend of mine, and I'm late. Not to mention that the friend doesn't answer his phone. I think he's forgotten we're coming."

"Will you go anyway?" she asked.

"I don't know. There's a security gate with a combination at the entrance to his property and I can't get through if he's not there. Connie will be disappointed if she doesn't get to see the horses."

"Is she with you?"

"I'm on my way to Yahola to pick her up. The toothpaste's for her. She says her grandmother won't buy her any."

"Won't buy it for her! Why not?"

Jay's shoulders rose in an expressive shrug of annoyance. "You'd have to know the woman. She's not a grandmother who bakes cookies and heaps presents upon her darling grandchildren."

Before Lisa could reply to this, the cashier said, "Next?"

After Lisa had paid for her purchases, she and Jay walked out the door into a January morning bright with sunshine. It sparkled off the chrome bumpers and hubcaps and gleamed off the windshields of the cars, and it danced off the highlights in Jay's hair.

"Here's the toothpaste," she said, handing it over, and he sifted a dollar and some change into her palm.

"Thanks a lot," he said. "I really appreciate this. Now my next problem is what to do with Connie for the afternoon if I can't get in touch with my friend."

"I have an idea," Lisa said suddenly. "If you'd like to hear about it, that is." For a moment she wondered if she was making a mistake. Maybe he wouldn't go for it.

"What's that?" he said. His eyes were deep brown and shiny, like cool polished stones, a welcome relief after looking at the hot bright parking lot. She thought for one disastrous moment that maybe he was only being polite; perhaps he wanted to be on his way. But then his pupils widened and she detected a flicker of something more than compliance with social convention, and she told herself to stop thinking like a teenager. She might look like one, but she didn't have to act it.

"I—I have a canoe," she said, watching carefully for his reaction. "I was going out in it this afternoon, and if you and Connie would like to join me—well, I hate to think of her being disappointed."

"Do you mean it? You wouldn't mind if we went along?"

"A canoe probably isn't as good as a horse, but it's all I've got," she said half-apologetically.

"My guess is that Connie has never been in a boat of any kind. That sounds wonderful, Lisa. Would you like to ride along with me to Yahola to pick her up?"

Lisa regretfully shook her head. "I have some errands to run for the mission—birthday candles for the cake we're going to bake for Pedro next week, that sort of thing."

"You're baking a cake for Pedro's birthday?"

"He told me he's never had one before. I want this to be a birthday he'll always remember. What flavor should we bake?" she asked.

"You can never go wrong with chocolate," he pointed out. He liked the way her brows drew together when she looked serious.

"Chocolate it is. I'll need another half hour or so to do the things I need to do. Why don't you bring Connie to my house in about an hour?"

"Good enough," he said cheerfully. "You'd better give me directions to your place."

She told him how to turn onto the winding river road and how the road doubled back on itself before crossing the county line and fronting on the river again. He drew a map on a pad of paper from his glove compartment, and as she watched, Lisa had the absurd notion to reach out and touch the edge of his shirt where it was so white against his tan.

It's starting again,
she thought helplessly, wondering how he could act so unaware of an attraction so strong.

She fluttered a hand at him out the window of her car on the way out of the parking lot. Jay was an unexpected treat on a day that had promised nothing special, only a blank space to be filled in. And now he was going to fill it, and she was glad.

* * *

For Jay it was a Saturday morning that had so far been purely exasperating, which was why he couldn't believe his luck. Lisa Sherrill, in line ahead of him at the drugstore! Lisa Sherrill in the parking lot, her pale gleaming hair lifting like wings in the breeze as she invited him to go canoeing!

As his car rolled into the shell-rock parking area near the community center in Yahola, he looked for Connie. She was usually waiting for him in front of the community center, but this time she wasn't there.

He saw her running, her hair flying out behind her, as he braked to a stop. Alarmed, he got out of the car and hurried to meet her, and she flung her arms around his waist.

"Oh, Jay, I didn't think I'd be able to meet you today. Nina threatened to make me stay home if I didn't clean the kitchen and I did, but she said the floor was dirty, so I swept it again and she yelled at me, but I told her I had to go and finally she said to get out," Connie said in a rush.

Jay handed her handkerchief. "She said you could go?"

"Y-yes," Connie said. She blotted her tears and managed to get control of herself before handing the handkerchief back to Jay.

He bit back his anger and swung the car door open. "Hop in, Connie. You'll forget all about the trouble at home when I tell you about the surprise."

"Surprise?" Connie said, clearly interested through her tears.

"Actually, there's bad news and there's good news. Which do you want first?" he asked her.

"The bad. So we can get it over with," Connie said.

"The man who owns the horse isn't home. I think he forgot about our visit."

"Oh," Connie said. Her face fell. "How about the good news?"

"We're going out on the Loxahatchee River in a canoe."

"A canoe! I didn't know you had a canoe!" Connie bounced excitedly in her seat.

"No, it's Lisa Sherrill's canoe. Remember her from the community center dining hall?"

"Do you know her?"

"I do now," he said with a grin.

"She's nice. And pretty. But how can I go canoeing? I don't know how to paddle."

"Lisa and I can take care of that—at least at first. Can you swim?"

"No, I never learned."

"You'll wear a life vest, so that's no problem. But you should learn to swim. Maybe I'll arrange for swimming lessons."

"I don't know if Nina would let me go. She's scared of the water."

"There's no need to be frightened of the water if you know how to swim. Perhaps Nina never learned."

"I guess not. Wow! We're going out in a canoe! Wait till I tell my cousins about this!" Connie said.

"Maybe you shouldn't," Jay suggested.

"Oh. You're right—it might only make trouble with Nina," Connie said in a subdued voice.

Jay could have bitten his tongue for dampening Connie's spirits, but he had learned that Nina had to be handled carefully. He sometimes felt that he was walking a fine line. One slip, and his access to Connie would be denied forever.

He tried not to think about that. Instead he watched for the sign that would tell him where to turn onto the river road, and he thought about spending a pleasant uncomplicated afternoon on the river with Lisa.

So many times he'd met women who interested him initially, and so many times he'd been disillusioned. They didn't like to share him with the children. They didn't like it when he had to hurry to Yahola to help Sister Maria with some problem.

But this time, with this woman who on her day off shopped for birthday candles for a little boy who'd never had a birthday cake, perhaps he wouldn't be disappointed. After all, if Sister Maria was pushing her, Lisa Sherrill must be something special.

Chapter 3

Jay had no trouble finding his way to Lisa's house after he saw the mailbox marked Sherrill. He swung his car into the driveway that wound lazily between clumps of pine and palmetto trees and immediately saw the house nestled amid an opulent fringe of greenery. Beyond the house the river, pale and sparkling golden in the sunlight, shimmered through a lacy cluster of Australian pine trees. A covey of quail scurried in the path of his car before he pulled to a stop behind Lisa's white Toyota, which was parked on one side of the house's big double garage.