Chasing Sunsets (10 page)

I followed the point of the woman’s coral-painted nail to the direction she’d just come from. I went into a square hallway that opened up to four doors, all of which were closed. I felt like a contestant on the television show I heard Dad talk about—the one where people dressed up and had to choose a door to get a prize. Door number one . . . door number two . . .

“It’s that door right there,” the woman said from behind me. “Right in front of you.”

I stepped to the door and tapped with the knuckle of my index finger.

“Please come in.”

The voice was rich with Latin flavor.

I opened the door.

The room was painted the color of fresh cream, and the carpet—thick and luxurious—was the same. The U-shaped desk positioned near the floor to ceiling window was ultra-contemporary cherry and glass. Everything about the room from the wall hangings to the ficus at the left of the window screamed success.

A petite dark-skinned beauty stood in the center of the
U
. Her black hair was pulled back in a chignon; rebellious wisps had managed to fight their way to hang loose about an oval face. Her eyes were as black and penetrating as I’d remembered and the lips just as pouty. The package as a whole was dramatic to say the least.

“Rosa.”

I expected my old friend would run around the desk and that we would embrace in a long-overdue hug. Instead, she extended her hand for a shake and said, “Kimberly. It’s been a long time.”

I couldn’t for the life of me remember her ever calling me by my full name. When she heard Dad call me “Boo” she would too. Otherwise she called me Kim and sometimes even “Boo-Boo.” But never Kimberly.

I took her hand. It was cold and unfriendly.

“Have a seat,” she said, indicating a chair on the other side of her desk. She returned to her executive’s chair as she said, “Are you shopping for a vacation home?”

“No. I . . .” I cleared my throat. This was not going at all the way I’d expected since Steven had suggested Rosa’s contacts. “How have you been, Rosa?”

She looked around the room and said, “Busy, as you can see. Cedar Key is back on the upswing in rentals and sales.”

I expected her to ask about me. When she didn’t I said, “I’m sorry about your mother.”

I watched her swallow hard, press her lips together, and then look out the window. The sunlight revealed the shimmer of tears pooling in her eyes. She took a deep breath and turned back to me. “She was one of a kind.”

“She was for sure.”

She pursed her lips, then parted them and said, “How can I help you then?”

My shoulders sank between the blades. “I was told you may be able to help me find someone to replace your mother as a housekeeper for Dad and Anise.”

“There will never be a replacement for my mother.” Rosa’s words were clipped and barely audible, but I made them out just fine.

“Well, no . . . that much is for sure. Still, Dad wants me to find someone to—”

“Why didn’t he come then?”

“Dad had some pressing issues at the office and . . . to be honest, Rosa, he thought that if I came it would give me something to do while my sons are with their father for the summer.”

Rosa’s face softened. “You have sons?”

“Two. Chase and Cody.”

Rosa reached for a polished silver frame on her desk and turned it toward me. Three handsome boys reflected their mother’s stunning beauty. They looked like models. “I have three.”

I noticed then the wide band over a massive engagement ring on her left hand. “You’ve done well, Rosa.”

“I’ve worked myself nearly silly to get here.” The ice in her voice had returned, and I was completely at a loss as to why.

“I saw Steven Granger last night. He said you may have a suggestion for someone to help with the house.”

Rosa leaned back in her chair. “That must have been quite the reunion.” Then she smiled, catlike. “He’s still something else to look at, isn’t he?”

I felt my face grow hot, and I blinked several times in an effort to gain my composure. “I guess. Rosa, I just need to find someone to clean the house on a regular basis so I can get back to Orlando.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Have you done anything else to try to find someone? An ad in the
Cedar Key News
perhaps.”

“The paper? I hadn’t thought of that. I did put up a flyer down at the market.”

“That’s good.”

“You know, the kind with the bottom cut for tearing off.”

“Of course.” Then she stood. “Well, perhaps between all that we can come up with something.”

I was being dismissed. Just like that.

I stood too. “Thank you.” I opened my change purse and pulled out a piece of paper I’d earlier folded and placed within it. “Here’s my cell number. I look forward to hearing from you.”

Rosa took the paper, placed it on her desk as though it were a piece of lint, and said, “Like I said, I’ll see what I can come up with.” She forced a smile. “Good to see you again, Kimberly.”

“You too, Rosa,” I said, then turned and left the office, feeling a little like I’d just left a freezer.

I checked on Patsy that afternoon before I went inside to get ready for my evening with Steven. She was “Facebooking” with one of her grandchildren. “Just let me know when you want me to get you set up,” she told me.

I assured her I’d be asking soon.

At home, Max was more than a little happy to see me. He shot past me in a blur, his nails clipping the stairs as he bounded toward the yard. I watched as he found his spot and then ambled off toward Patsy’s, presumably in search of Oreo.

I went inside then. I took a long tepid shower to cool me from the day’s heat and humidity, then went to the closet and stared into it. I had no idea what to wear. Was Steven taking me someplace fancy and intimate or to one of the more casual tourist eateries? After determining that surely this was going to be more of an informal date, I chose a cotton scoop-neck summer dress covered in red, yellow, and green flowers. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail, took it down, then put it back up again.

Not being one to wear much in the way of makeup, I applied a tinted lotion to my face followed by a single stroke of mascara and a light coral lip gloss.

While I waited, I went into the living room and dialed Dad’s cell phone number. He answered on the third ring.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, Boo. How’s it going there?”

Right to business. I hadn’t found anyone yet to replace Eliana, and I felt the slow dance of not measuring up swirl inside of me. “A couple of things look promising. I posted a notice down at the market, and last night I ran into someone, who suggested that I stop in and talk with Rosa. Did you know she owns a real estate business here?”

Dad was quiet for a moment before saying, “Yes, I know. I see Rosa every so often when I’m over there.”

“Oh.”

“What did Rosa say? Anything of interest?”

“Not really. In fact . . . well, never mind. I asked if she could help me find someone to clean the house. She seemed pretty noncommittal about it.”

“I’m sure she’s very busy.”

“I guess.”

“Anything else? Have you talked with the boys?”

I smiled. “Yes. They’re doing fine.”

“Good.”

From where I sat, I saw Max running across the back lawn. “Dad,” I said. “I met Patsy next door. Max and her cat have become fast friends.”

Dad chuckled. “Ah, Patsy. She’s a sport, isn’t she?”

“She’s something else. She’s going to teach me Facebook so I can stay in better contact with Chase, and he can keep me up to date on Cody.”

“Facebook . . . I don’t know how hardworking adults have the time.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Me either, Dad.” I sighed. “Well, if I get a nibble, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

I ended our call and stretched. Thirsty, I decided to get a bottle of water from the wet bar pint-sized refrigerator. As I twisted the cap, I noticed the framed photograph next to the bar, one my mother had taken. It was of various-sized bar glasses, lined up and gleaming in either the early morning or the late afternoon sunlight. I leaned toward the 8-by-10 matted work and noticed for the first time that every glass held the telltale sign of a woman’s lipstick. Each glass was turned so that the impression of lips faced the bottom right corner of the photo.

It was as if Mom had kissed the scene before she photographed it. “She was truly something else,” I whispered.

Somewhere in the room I heard her voice: “Kim, you are simply amazing, sweetheart. Simply amazing. What made you think to tilt the camera like that . . .”

I shook my head just as a knock echoed through the room.
Steven
.

When I opened the door, I found Max sitting on his haunches at Steven’s feet.

“Hi,” he said. Steven wore black vintage wash jeans, a golden tan waffle tee, and Converse shoes.

“Hi.”

He looked from me to Max and back to me. “This yours?” A dimple cut deep into his cheek, and I smiled.

“He’s my buddy,” I said, repeating the words Patsy had spoken to me of Oreo. “Max, this is Steven. Steven, Max.”

Steven shifted to a squat with one knee resting on the deck and the other supporting his elbow. He extended his hand, and Max placed his paw dutifully in it. “Nice to meet you, Max.”

“Come in,” I said. “I’ll get my purse.”

Max shot in and headed straight for the kitchen, where his food and water bowls waited for him. Steven closed the door and said, “I’m glad you didn’t dress up. I forgot to tell you it would be casual.”

I picked up my purse and twirled around as I put on my best “stunned” expression. “What? I don’t look dressed up?”

Steven cocked his head to one side. “You know what I mean.”

I nodded. “I do.” I started for the door. “Shall we then?”

“We shall.”

Steven took me to a rustic waterfront restaurant, Coconuts, which was upstairs over the billiards bar. He escorted me to a table for two next to the window, which overlooked the Gulf and an old fisherman’s shack that appeared ready to collapse under the weight of any breeze, no matter how weak. “It’s still here,” I said.

“The locals call it the Honeymoon Cottage,” Steven said.

“I remember.”

“This is great seating. We’ll have a nice view of the sunset if you decide I’m worth your time and we’re still here.” I heard the lilt in his voice; it was the same as when we were kids.

I looked out over the water. Black thick ripples bobbed toward the shoreline.

A server came to the table and asked for our drink order. “I don’t drink alcohol,” Steven said to me, “but if you . . .”

“No,” I said. “Me either.” I looked up at the server. “Sweet iced tea if you have it, please.”

“We do,” she said.

“Sounds good,” Steven said. “Make it two.”

Steven pulled the menus from a chrome holder at the end of the table, handed me one, and said, “The coconut shrimp is my favorite.”

“With fries?” I asked.

I watched his eyes slide from his open menu to mine. “Yeah,” he said, slow and sweet.

My feet tingled. “Coconut shrimp and fries, then.”

After he placed our identical orders—which we soon learned came with coleslaw—he rested his elbows on the table, laced his fingers, and said, “So, did you see Rosa?”

I took a sip of tea. “I did.”

“What was that look for?”

“What look?”

“You made a face. What happened with Rosa?”

I shrugged. “She’s just different than I remember her.”

This time, Steven made the face.

“What was
that
look for?”

He chuckled. “Never mind. Did she say if she could help you find someone?”

“She said she’d try. I don’t know, Steven. I felt . . . it seemed like . . . well, like she really didn’t
want
to help me. Like she was holding some kind of grudge or something. I expected her to at the very least be happy to see me.”

“Sounds just like Rosa.”

“Meaning?”

Steven leaned toward me as though he were about to tell me some grave secret. “Rosa has had some chip on her shoulder since we were teenagers.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wouldn’t kid about those years.”

I felt myself grow warm and prayed I wasn’t blushing. “Oh, well . . . I guess I will continue to try on my own to find someone. In the meantime, I’m getting a little done around the place.”

He smiled again. “Tell me about yourself, Kimberly-Boo.”

Just then our dinner was served, so I waited to answer. After the server asked if we needed anything else and then walked away, Steven said, “Do you mind if I say a blessing over our food?”

I blinked. “No. No, of course not.”

Steven’s prayer was short, to the point. When he was done, he said, “Dig in.”

I popped a hot, perfectly seasoned fry in my mouth. “Yum.”

“Good, huh?”

“Very.” I took another sip of tea and said, “I’m a teacher.”

“What?”

I laughed. “You asked me to tell you about myself, remember?”

The dimple returned. “I did, didn’t I? Okay, then. What do you teach?”

“Not what. Who. Second grade.”

“Hmm . . .” Steven bit into a shrimp.

I nodded, felt my ponytail tickle my skin. “Second graders can be both a challenge and a lot of fun too. Their minds are like sponges.”

“Hmm . . .” he repeated.

We both laughed. “What about you?” I asked.

Steven looked out over the water and then back to me. “Well, as you know, I’m tending Dad’s business until . . . well, who knows how long. Before I moved here, I lived in Atlanta and worked as an executive manager of one of the malls.”

“Really?”

“I couldn’t make that up.”

I also took a bite of shrimp. “You were right. These are fabulous.”

“Not necessarily good for you, but hey . . . what is these days?”

“True.”

He took a sip of his tea before asking, “You have sons, you said. Chase and Cody, was it?”

“Chase and Cody, yes.” I could feel myself glowing. “I have photos, of course, if you’d like to see.” Even as I suggested it, I was reaching for my purse.

Steven wiped his hands on his napkin and then reached across the table as I produced a small photo album. He flipped through it, made dutiful noises, then asked, “Did you take these?”

“No. Their father did, actually. And, of course, the school pictures . . .”

Steven looked hard at me as he handed the photo album back across the table. “You told me last night that you don’t take pictures anymore. Why?”

I shrugged but I didn’t answer.

“Your mother?”

I nodded as I felt tears sting the back of my eyes. “Change the subject,” I said, nearly choking on the words.

He was quiet before he said, “All right then. What would you like to talk about?”

Part of me wanted him to explain to me what exactly had occurred the year after our summer romance. How he’d so casually tossed aside what we’d had for the girl he’d met at college. But, so far, we were having an okay evening and I didn’t want to ruin it, so I said, “You said you have a daughter?”

“Eliza, yes. The apple of my eye.” He winked as he wiped his hands again on the napkin and reached for his back pocket. “Now it’s your turn to look at photos.”

There were four pictures of his daughter between the sides of a black soft leather wallet. The first showed Eliza standing on her grandfather’s boat, another was of her high school graduation, and the last two were of her with her father, arms laced, both dressed in formal wear. The photos showed evidence of her being tall, fair in complexion, with long strawberry-blonde hair and dark blue eyes. I noticed that in each photograph she wore an apple-shaped necklace, which I pointed out to Steven.

“The apple of my eye,” he said again. “Remember?”

“You said that, yes.”

He took the wallet from me and turned the pictures toward himself. “I had that necklace specially made by one of the jewelers at the mall where I worked,” he said. “Fourteen karat gold. Rubies and emeralds.” He looked up at me. “Cost me a little, but she’s worth it.”

I found myself in an unlikely place. I didn’t know the young woman, and she looked sweet enough. But I didn’t want to talk about her anymore. I looked out over the water again, then toward the sky. It had turned dark blue; the clouds the color of pink cotton candy. “Do you think the tide will take the water way out tonight?”

“Might. Would you like to go out for a walk?”

I did. I didn’t. I did . . . “No. Not tonight.”

I felt Steven’s hand brush against mine. “Kim?” I looked at him as I slid my hand to my lap. “What’s wrong? Did I say something that’s upset you?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m fine, really I am.” I forced a smile.

Steven looked down at where his hand continued to rest on the table and said, “I was thinking that maybe tomorrow morning we could watch the sunrise together.”

“What does
that
mean?”

He laughed. “No . . . no, no, no. Nothing like that.” He leaned back in his seat. “Man, that sounded like I wanted you to come up and see my etchings, didn’t it?”

I nodded. “I should say.”

“What I meant was that maybe I could pick you up early. I’ll make a thermos of coffee. We can sit near the boat dock and wait for the sun to rise. Then, we can go have some breakfast at Kona Joe’s.”

It was so tempting. This whole thing . . . so tempting. And, for a moment, I felt as though I were some lovesick heroine in a romance novel, about to fall in love all over again. Maybe for the last time. I imagined the sun rising on the silhouettes of Steven and me, arms wrapped around each other, lips pressed together . . . like when we were young, before our parents even knew we’d snuck out of our respective homes . . .

I shook my head. “I don’t think so, Steven.”

Disappointment registered on his face. “Maybe another time, then.”

“Maybe,” I said, though my heart whispered,
No. Never.