Island in the Sea (12 page)

“If you tell me what happened after you arrived in Los Angeles and why you are so furious at Gideon, I might be persuaded to stay,” Juliet said.

“That can wait. I don't want to put a crimp on young love.” Lionel shook his head. “Though I can't understand why anyone wants to launch himself into the air in a woven basket tethered by something that belongs at a child's birthday party.” He paused. “Make sure he brings a picnic, none of those prepackaged sandwiches that cost twenty euros. Have the hotel prepare cold veal cutlets and strawberry cheesecake.”

“I'm allergic to strawberries,” Juliet replied.

Lionel walked to the entry. “You should have thought of that before you accepted the invitation.”

*   *   *

After Juliet left, Lionel piled Majorcan ham and cheese on an olive baguette and lay on a chaise longue in the garden. He sipped strawberry lemonade and opened his worn copy of Spenser's
The Faerie Queen
. But the sun was too bright and the sprinklers hissed and he couldn't concentrate.

He put the sandwich in the fridge and entered the library. He poured a glass of scotch and walked to the bookshelf. He selected a copy of Jules Verne's
Around the World in 180 Days
and began to read.

chapter eleven

J
ULIET SLIPPED ON A FLORAL
dress and added a wide leather belt. She smoothed her hair behind her ears and fastened it with a ceramic clip. She grabbed her red Coach purse and hurried down the wood staircase.

She was meeting Henry in the lobby and they were driving to Valldemossa. They were going to visit the monastery where George Sand and Chopin spent a winter, and eat lamb ravioli and Majorcan spinach at Ca'n Mario.

Juliet pictured Henry's wavy blond hair and wide shoulders and felt a jolt of anticipation. Ballooning had been one of the most exciting things she had ever done. She looked down and saw stone gorges and green inlets filled with wooden fishing boats. She gazed at the deep valleys and shimmering ocean and thought she had never felt so free.

Lionel called and said he had to go to Palma so she had the whole weekend to herself. Henry picked her up in the yellow Fiat, and they drove to the Mercat d'Oliver in Palma. They strolled through the stalls, sampling jams and sausages and local cheeses. They filled a shopping bag with ripe pears and figs and bunches of sunflowers.

Juliet listened to Henry talk about competing in Tokyo and Shanghai and Amsterdam. She told him about seeing U2 perform at the Arc de Triomphe and John Legend ring in the New Year in Miami. She gazed at his thick chest and felt a shiver run down her spine.

*   *   *

“Miss Lyman,” the concierge called. “It's lovely to see you, I hope you are enjoying the mild weather.”

“It's a gorgeous day.” Juliet nodded. “We're going to Valldemossa to explore the monastery.”

“You must visit the birthplace of Santa Catalina, she is Majorca's patron saint,” the concierge said, as he handed her a piece of paper. “You had a phone call; she asked that you call her back.”

“A phone call?” Juliet studied the unfamiliar number.

“You can borrow the house phone,” the concierge replied. “If I may say, you look very well. Majorca agrees with you.”

*   *   *

Juliet dialed the number and waited for it to answer.

“Juliet? This is Lydia, Gabriella's grandmother.” A female voice came over the line. “I wanted to thank you for the books, I read them in one day. I don't know why people say Hemingway is a man's writer; there is nothing sexier than crisp prose. And the Danielle Steel novel was delightful, like soaking in a warm bubble bath.”

“It's my pleasure,” Juliet replied. “I wanted to thank you for lunch.”

“That's why I'm calling,” Lydia continued. “I made a vegetable casserole with aubergine and roasted potatoes and wanted to know if you'd come to dinner.”

“Gabriella is working tonight,” Juliet replied. “She doesn't have a day off until Monday.”

“I didn't ask Gabriella,” Lydia said. “There's something I want to talk about.”

“I'm spending the afternoon in Valldemossa.” Juliet hesitated. “But I'll be with a male friend.”

“That's even better, you have to bring him,” Lydia exclaimed. “I always make too much food.”

*   *   *

“Juliet!” Lydia opened the door. She wore a patterned dress and gold sandals. Her silvery hair was pulled into a soft chignon and she wore small ruby earrings.

“Henry is parking the car.” Juliet entered the tile foyer. “Something smells delicious, like butter and spices.”

“You look wonderful, you are brown as a native.” Lydia ushered her into the living room. “I hope you don't think I'm silly dressing up, but I don't have many dinner guests. And if I go into the village for tapas wearing Lanvin, the shopkeepers think I'm going senile.”

“That's a beautiful dress,” Juliet replied. “And your earrings are gorgeous.”

“I do love pretty things; when I was a girl I had a collection of dolls in satin ball gowns.” Lydia poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Juliet. “How was Valldemossa? I used to think it was so romantic that George Sand and Chopin spent a winter in the monastery. But he almost died from tuberculosis and she couldn't stand the weather. You're lucky you are here in the summer, our winters aren't so welcoming.”

“The views are spectacular and the monastery has been left exactly the same.” Juliet sat on a red sofa. “It's like being in another century.”

“And your male friend?” Lydia asked. “Is he American?”

“He's a tennis player from New Zealand.” Juliet's cheeks flushed. “His name is Henry Adler.”

“I love tennis players!” Lydia placed a platter of mushroom empanadas on the coffee table. “Years ago Arthur Ashe held a clinic here. He was so handsome with his coffee-colored skin and dark hair. Nothing happened, of course, but we spent a few lovely evenings making potato cakes.”

There was a knock at the door and Lydia rose to answer it. Henry entered carrying a box of chocolate truffles and a bunch of purple lilacs.

“We were going to bring you some wine,” he said, as he handed the chocolates and flowers to Lydia. “But Juliet told me you make your own.”

“It's not good enough to be served at a Michelin star restaurant but I'm quite proud of it.” She popped a hazelnut truffle in her mouth. “There's nothing more satisfying than spending the day stomping grapes.”

*   *   *

They sat at a round table in the garden and ate asparagus soup and vegetable casserole with mascarpone cheese. Lydia filled their glasses with a smooth pinot noir, and they talked about Sóller's art galleries and outdoor markets. Juliet remembered Henry's kiss in the hotel lobby and a tingle ran down her spine.

“It must be wonderful to travel the world with a tennis racquet and a pair of athletic shoes.” Lydia nibbled sweet potato and baby carrots. “One of the best things about selling the farm was getting rid of furniture gathering dust.”

“I've always wanted a house with a garden and one of those big dogs who thinks he is a person.” Henry smiled. “All the hotel rooms start to look the same and I get tired of eating cereal from single boxes.”

Juliet suddenly flashed on her galley kitchen in Santa Monica with the half empty Life cereal box. She pictured coming home from the recording studio and curling up on the floral sofa with a turkey sandwich. She remembered watching
Gilmore Girls
on Netflix because she was too tired to walk to the bedroom.

“I'd love help with dessert.” Lydia glanced at Juliet. “I can't decide whether to serve sponge cake with pistachio or raspberry ice cream.”

Juliet followed Lydia into the tile kitchen and sat on a round stool.

“Henry is handsome and charming.” Lydia smiled. “And he's obviously in love with you.”

“We just met.” Juliet blushed. “It's nice to have company.”

“It can be difficult living alone but one discovers the things one loves,” Lydia mused. “I never would have had time to read if I got married, and I wouldn't have learned to hike or fish. Gabriella's father was always wading in streams, and I was always running after him.”

“It must have been hard raising him by yourself,” Juliet replied.

“In some ways it was wonderful.” Lydia poured coffee into porcelain cups. “I could feed him ice cream for dinner and let him stay up until midnight. We are so careful following the rules we forget to have fun. I never regretted having a child but sometimes I wish I didn't give up my dreams.”

“Gabriella told me you think she has a beautiful voice,” Lydia continued. “She said you could get her a recording contract.”

“She made it clear she wasn't interested.” Juliet shook her head. “She said her mother went to Paris to be a dancer and returned after eight months.”

“Sonja was a just young girl wanting to experience the cafés and boulevards.” Lydia shrugged. “Gabriella has the voice of an angel.”

“I've never heard anything like it,” Juliet agreed. “She could be a huge star with homes all over the world.”

“When I was nineteen I answered a newspaper advertisement to teach Spanish in San Francisco.” Lydia filled a pitcher with cream. “My boyfriend, Enrico, worked on a yacht and was gone for weeks at a time. We agreed I would teach for a year and when I returned we would get engaged.”

I was so excited, I pored over photos of Chinatown and the Golden Gate Bridge. A week before I was supposed to leave I came down with a terrible flu.” Lydia paused. “My mother insisted I go to the doctor and of course I wasn't sick, I was three months pregnant with Felipe.”

“What happened?” Juliet gasped.

“I spent three days hunched over the toilet wondering what to do,” she replied. “Even if I went to San Francisco, how could I teach and take care of a baby? Finally I wrote to Enrico and told him he was going to be a father.”

A month later I received a reply saying he got a permanent job on a yacht in Cannes, he would send money when he could but he was too young to have a child.” Lydia took a carton of ice cream out of the freezer. “I've had a wonderful life filled with good food and wine and friends. I've even had heady romances with expensive perfumes and boxes of chocolates. But if I had gone to San Francisco and had the baby, who knows where I'd be now.” She looked at Juliet. “I don't want Gabriella to miss out on a great adventure because she thinks she is in love.”

“But it's not just Hugo; she adores the restaurant and her family and Majorca.”

Lydia picked up the silver tray and walked to the door. “Young birds often don't want to leave the nest, that's why they have to be taught to fly.”

*   *   *

They ate raspberry tarts and sponge cake and pistachio ice cream. Juliet gazed up at the velvet sky full of stars and thought she'd been transported on a magic carpet. She felt Henry's leg brush her thigh and felt a shiver of excitement.

“I had a wonderful evening. If I was twenty years younger, I'd insist we go dancing.” Lydia stood at the entry. “You must come again; Henry can give us tennis lessons.”

“We'd love to.” Juliet smiled. “The casserole was delicious and I've never tasted such rich ice cream, I'm going to swim twenty laps in the hotel pool to work it off.”

“Talk to Gabriella.” Lydia kissed Juliet on the cheek. “I want my only granddaughter to be happy.”

*   *   *

Juliet and Henry climbed the wood staircase to her room. She fumbled with her purse and extracted the key. She opened the door and led him inside.

“Would you like a glass of sherry?” she asked.

“I can't, I finally convinced my coach it's too hot to play at noon. Now he has me doing sprints at seven
A.M
.” He glanced at his watch. “I should already be in bed but I couldn't resist saying a proper good night, these last few days have been so much fun.”

“I agree.” Juliet nodded, feeling light-headed from the wine.

“Usually when I'm training I just sit in a sauna and put hot towels on my back.” He touched her cheek. “But I can't stop thinking about you. I know this is sudden and it might sound crazy but you're bright and beautiful and I think I'm in love with you.”

“We hardly know each other.” Juliet faltered.

“You love swimming and hiking and strolling through outdoor markets. You're passionate about your work and know everything about music.” He traced her palm. “I want to take you dancing in Palma and explore the caves in Puerto Cristo. But mostly I want to learn about you.”

He pulled her close and kissed her on the lips. He fumbled with her dress and slipped his hand under her bra. She felt a pinprick of desire and caught her breath. She kissed him harder and then pulled away.

“If you don't mind, I think we should wait.” She smoothed her hair.

“You're probably right, I'd be a wreck tomorrow morning,” he groaned. He pressed his thumb on her mouth and whispered. “Are you sure?”

Juliet suddenly flashed on Lionel ‘s remark about Spanish hotels and giggled. “The walls are so thin, everyone would hear us.”

*   *   *

Juliet stood on the balcony and felt the breeze drift down from the mountains. It was almost midnight and she heard a violin playing and people laughing. She pulled her robe around her shoulders and pictured Henry's lips on her mouth. She remembered pushing him away and felt a warmth between her legs.

It would have been so easy to pull him down on the bed. But they had only known each other a few days and in two weeks she'd be leaving. Did she really want to fall in love and have it end?

She remembered hiking in Valldemossa and sharing sponge cake and ice cream in Lydia's garden. Suddenly she thought of her discussion with Lydia about Gabriella and shivered.