Dreams for Stones (12 page)

“So, does your family live here in Denver,
Kathy?” Robert said, swinging his legs onto the ottoman and leaning
back.

“No. They live in Ohio. Dayton. My dad’s in
the Air Force. But I was born in Denver. That’s why I decided to
move here, to see what it’s like.”

“And what do you think?” Stella said.

“I love it.”
So much, I traded a fiancé
for it
. Not that she’d say that out loud, although it would be
interesting to see their reaction. And what did that amusement say
about her recovery? That it appeared to be progressing?

Later, when Alan walked her back to the
kitchen to retrieve her coat, she handed him a check.

He frowned. “What’s this?”

“For the lessons.”

“I coerced you into it. I can’t require you
to pay for it as well.” He handed the check back.

She refused to take it. “I don’t feel right
about it.”

He shrugged, tore the check in two. “So,
take me out to dinner again. Friday would work for me.”

This was getting to be more than she’d
bargained for. Riding
and
dining. Time to call a halt.

“All right,” she said.

“You better explain one more time.” Jade hooked a length of black
hair behind her ear. “You need me to help you pick out a special
dress, because the character in your novel needs a dress. And then
you bring me here?”

Kathy frowned in concentration as she sorted
through the rack of dresses in the vintage dress shop she’d picked
out of the yellow pages. Amanda again. First she’d pushed Kathy to
learn to ride. But was that enough? Not for Amanda, who had decided
she needed a fancy dress for. . . something and, naturally, it
couldn’t be just any fancy dress.

Darn Amanda, anyway. But what was Kathy
after all, an author or a mouse? She could just tell Amanda,
no
dress. Deal with it.
Instead, here she and Jade were, giving up
their lunch hour to stir up rose-scented, hundred-year-old
dust.

“Kathy, these aren’t dresses.” Jade flipped
through a second rack. “They’re rags.” She sneezed, and Kathy’s
nose tickled.

“No, they’re not. They’re living history.
Well at least some of them are.” And working to repair and alter
the right dress might be kind of fun at that.

She turned back to her rack and pulled out
the burgundy velvet that had caught her eye. “Look at this one.”
She held it against her waist, smoothing her hand across the soft
fabric.

Jade frowned, then nodded. “I like the
color. It shouldn’t work with your hair, but somehow it does.” She
reached out and fingered the torn lace collar. “But it has a
problem.”

“It might look even better without the
collar.” Kathy already knew if the fit was even close, she was
going to buy the dress, although it was an extravagance, and she
was never extravagant. But the sensuous feel of the heavy,
wine-colored velvet was simply too wonderful to walk away from.

“What if you can’t fix it? Then you’ve
wasted your money,” Jade said, striking an uncharacteristic frugal
note.

Regardless of Amanda instigating it, if
Kathy didn’t buy the dress, she knew she’d regret it, and that was
one of the things she’d decided since getting back from San
Francisco. She was going to do everything she could to limit her
regrets.

In the weeks since Kathy’s first visit to TapDancer, Grace, finally
acceding to pressure from Delia and Kathy, had begun riding, and
Kathy and Grace now took turns driving to the ranch for their
weekly ride any Saturday the weather was decent.

Since it was Grace’s turn to drive today,
Kathy parked her car in front of the Garibaldis’ house and joined
Grace and Delia in the minivan.

As Grace navigated through Denver traffic,
Kathy chatted with Delia, asking her about kindergarten, and
getting a detailed report. Once they were on the highway, Kathy
told Grace her news. “We got two illustrations for
Verde
Mountains
back. If you stop by sometime this week, you can see
them.”

Grace’s mouth widened in a huge grin. She
gave Kathy a quick glance. “Are they okay, do you think?”

“More than okay. We were lucky with the
illustrator we picked. We got someone just starting out, but I
think she’s terrific.”

“Just like me. I mean, just starting
out.”

“And terrific. Don’t forget that part,”
Kathy said, laughing at Grace’s transparent joy.

“It’s all so exciting. You can’t imagine.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it. Don’t I,
niñita
?” Grace looked at Delia in the rearview mirror, and
Delia nodded her head vigorously.

Kathy knew if Grace hadn’t been driving, she
and Delia would have been doing a happy dance—Grace’s excitement
was that obvious.

“Even though the illustrator is working
fast, we don’t think we can get it out by Christmas, but in the
spring for sure.”

Grace took a deep breath and let it out,
shaking her head. “Can you believe it,
querida
? If I hadn’t
met Alan, and you hadn’t decided to take riding lessons and picked
TapDancer, none of this would be happening.”

“But don’t forget. When Alan pushed us
together and ordered us to talk, I didn’t want to, because I was in
a snit over how he acted the first time we met.”

“And if you’d done that, we wouldn’t be
amigas
.
Interesante
. Strange how things happen. All
those little
cosas
having to come together perfectly, so
everything works out.”

“Yep. We’ve been victims of one of the
mysteries of the universe,” Kathy said. “By the way, you don’t
happen to have any more stories just lying around?”

“As a matter of fact, I think I have one or
two. What do you think,
nena
?” Grace asked Delia. “The one
about the
coquis
and the coffee plantation or the one about
the lizards that live on the beach?”

Delia clapped her hands. “The lizards.”

“
Coquis
?” Kathy said.

“Tiny Puerto Rican frogs.”

“Why not bring along copies of both when you
come to look at the illustrations?”

Grace nodded her head solemnly. “I can
certainly do that.”

Kathy pushed her chair back, feeling satisfied at how well the
evening’s writing session had gone. Actually, lately they were all
going well. She’d finished a short story about the dancing horses,
and she was steadily adding to her novel—at least four pages a
night was her goal.

And she’d met that goal easily for the
past—well, pretty much ever since she started spending time with
Alan Francini.

Not that there was any cause and effect to
that.

Right before Christmas, Grenville delivered a copy of the
departmental committee’s decision on Alan’s request for promotion
and tenure. “A real sticky wicket for us, old chap,” Grenville
said, rolling and tapping the letter on the desk. “These decisions
often are, but this was one of the most difficult I’ve been
involved in.”

Alan sat back, putting his hands behind his
head, pretending a calm he was far from feeling.

“No sense leaving you hanging. We approved
your request for tenure but without promotion.” Grenville handed
over the letter. “Hilstrom might dig her heels in, but given the
fact your initial appointment didn’t make writing fiction a
requirement, I expect she’ll send this up the chain with a positive
recommendation.”

It was a blow, not being recommended for
promotion, but Alan could see it was a compromise position on the
part of the committee.

He still couldn’t count on getting tenure,
but for the first time since his initial meeting with Hilstrom, he
felt optimistic about his chances.

Kathy entered the terminal in Dayton, to find her parents waiting
for her.

“Oh, Kathy. Oh, it’s so good to see you.”
Her mother pulled her into a long hug, then stood back, still
holding Kathy by the arms. “Just look at you.” She shook her head,
smiling. “You look wonderful.”

“Hey, it’s my turn,” her dad said, throwing
his arms around her.

They walked together to baggage claim, where
Kathy and her mom remained to collect the luggage while her dad
went to get the car.

“I know one of these days, you’re not going
to be able to come home for Christmas, but I’m so glad you made it
this year.”

Kathy felt a spurt of alarm at her mother’s
somber tone. “Is something wrong?”

“No. No. Of course not. It’s just. . . I
really wanted to see you, to know for sure you’re okay. You are
okay, aren’t you?”

Kathy nodded and met her mother’s worried
eyes. “He wasn’t the right one, Mom. Better I found out before I
married him instead of after.”

Her mother gave her a steady look, which
Kathy concentrated on returning.

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear it. I hated to know
you were hurting.” Her mother blinked rapidly, then swiped at her
eyes.

“It’s okay,” Kathy repeated. “Really. I’m
fine. It did hurt for a while. Maybe my pride is still a little
sore. But I’m fine.”

Although it wasn’t yet completely true, it
was what her mom needed to hear. She’d lost her first husband in an
accident when Kathy was two, and it wasn’t until Kathy was five
that her mom married Colonel Matthew Jamison. Matt was also widowed
and raising a son, Matt Jr.

In one fell swoop, Kathy had gained a father
and an older brother.

Matt Jr. was now married, and this year he
was spending the holidays with his in-laws. Likely that was another
reason her mom was so thrilled to have her home.

“What is all this about you taking riding lessons?” her dad said at
dinner that first evening.

“I thought you didn’t like horses,” her
mother added. “Didn’t something happen?”

“Yeah. At Y camp. I kept falling off, and
the horse bit me. But the TapDancer horses are completely
different. They’re really easy to ride. And they don’t bite.”

“And the son of the owners is the one
teaching you?” her mom said.

Kathy knew where that was going. “Yep. Early
thirties, single, good-looking.”

“Ranching’s a rough life,” her dad said,
shaking his head.

Kathy ate her dinner, smiling to herself,
while her parents debated the point. No way was she adding fuel to
that particular fire by telling them Alan was a college
professor.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get too hasty here about
pairing her up with this guy,” her dad finally said. “She may have
no interest in him.” He gave Kathy an interrogatory look that she
ignored.

“Do I get any say in all this?” she
asked.

“Prefer you didn’t,” he growled. “Better to
let your mom and me pick someone. I’ve got a couple of decent
prospects we could start with while you’re here.”

Kathy rolled her eyes, and they all
laughed.

It was lovely to sink into the warmth and
comfort of her parents’ love, and she enjoyed their gentle teasing.
It helped take her mind off the fact that not all that long ago,
she and Greg had talked about the possibility of getting married
this Christmas—that is before Greg took the San Francisco
residency. Before he met Julie.

On Christmas Eve, Kathy and her parents went
to Mass. As the beautiful hymns soared, Kathy found herself
blinking back tears. But she always choked up on Christmas Eve.

After Mass, they exchanged gifts. Kathy
smiled as her dad handed her the first package, remembering the
year Matt discovered their parents always opened their gifts to
each other after Mass while he and Kathy had to wait until the next
morning.

Now that she was older, she could see it had
been their special time together as a couple, but she still wasn’t
sorry Matt had insisted he and Kathy be included.

As she had every year since taking the job
at Calico, she gave her parents a signed copy of one of the books
she had worked on that year. Next year it would be Grace’s book,
but this year it was a Russian fairytale.

Her mother opened the package then looked at
her. “Have you ever thought of writing your own book, dear? Dad and
I were talking about the stories you sent us when you were in
college. We thought they were wonderful.”

“Maybe I will, someday.” She didn’t want to
tell them about Amanda. Not yet. Knowing Amanda, that would jinx
it.

“As long as you think about it, hon.”

On Christmas Day, they had a big dinner with
a number of her father’s command filling out the places at the
table. This year the invitees were five men and two women.

It was a Jamison family tradition, that her
dad invite any of his airmen unable to go home for Christmas to
have dinner with them.

When Kathy was in high school, she’d flirted
outrageously with the young men, safe in the knowledge none of them
would dare ask her out.

Today, in the midst of the gaiety, somber
thoughts of canceled weddings and uncertain plans for the future
cast a sudden pall. Feeling unsettled, she attempted to focus on
what the young man her father had maneuvered into the seat next to
her was saying. He was good-looking, obviously intelligent, clearly
interested, and her dad liked him. Unfortunately she couldn't
manage even an iota of interest.

She hadn’t lied to her mother. She
was
doing better. Just not quite well enough to let
something get started with someone new.

Alan was sitting in the living room on Christmas Eve, waiting for
Charles to arrive, when Elaine came in and, without warning,
deposited her son in his arms.

“Here, little brother,” she said. “About
time you and your nephew got better acquainted.”

Alan considered himself already acquainted.
Hadn’t he gone to the hospital when Mark was born? And he’d visited
Elaine and Ted at home, well, at least a couple of times since.