Rose Harbor in Bloom (14 page)

“We’ll talk more after this weekend,” her mother said gently. “You’ve been so busy planning events that we haven’t had a good chat in far too long.”

Her mother was right. Burying herself in her work had been an easy escape for Annie. Once this party was over she planned to get back in the dating scene. If anything would convince Lenny they were finished, it would be her dating another man. She suspected her lack of a social life had spurred him on to believe she continued to love him. He was wrong, though. Her heart had been badly bruised, and she’d needed time to heal.

Wanting to change the subject, Annie asked, “When will you and Dad arrive?”

“We should be in Cedar Cove sometime tomorrow, probably late afternoon. Your father wants to leave around three or four,” her mother said. “Do you need me to do anything before then?”

“Not a thing, Mom. Everything is under control.”

Annie could hear her mother’s relief through the phone.

“You are the perfect person to organize this,” her mother went on to say. “We’re all so grateful. I want you to know how deeply I
appreciate all the hard work you’ve put into the party for Mom and Dad.”

“I’ve enjoyed it.” Now all that was necessary was to keep her grandparents from killing each other until after the big party.

“Call if you need anything.”

“I will,” Annie promised.

They chatted a bit longer before ending the call. Despite her misgivings regarding Oliver, Annie did feel better about his arrival after talking to her mother. Still, she’d like to clear the air with him, set some boundaries so that she could get through this weekend without the need to strangle him.

Not knowing which room was his, she decided to find Jo Marie. When she opened the door, Oliver was stepping out of the room directly across the hall from hers.

Annie sucked in her breath. Having him in the same inn was bad enough, but learning his room was only a few feet from her own unnerved her.

“Hello, Annie,” he said. He had his guitar with him.

She found his smile insufferable, but she refused to let him know. Otherwise, he’d use every opportunity to do whatever he could to make her uncomfortable.

“I thought we should talk, just the two of us,” she said, without greeting him back.

“Sure. When?”

In her opinion, the sooner she could lay down the ground rules, the better. “How about now?” Within a short while the inn would be filled with family and friends. By then it would be too late.

“All right. Do you want to come into my room?”

“Hardly.”

He grinned and murmured, “Probably wise on your part.”

“What does that mean?” she challenged, not afraid to call him out.

“Nothing.”

Rather than press the issue, she let it drop. She hoped she could make this conversation as amicable as possible.

“I saw a couple of chairs on the porch,” she suggested.

“Sounds good,” he said, and led the way down the two flights of stairs.

Annie followed with her mind whirling, going over what she intended to say and how best to start the conversation. Her natural inclination was to confront him with the sins of the past and demand that there not be a repeat. That, however, would start their talk on a negative note. Although there seemed a few scant positives, she would begin with those, Annie decided.

Oliver held open the front door for her to precede him. They settled into the two wooden chairs on the veranda. Although the sun was out, the afternoon was cool. The guitar rested in Oliver’s lap.

“What would you like to talk about?” he asked, seeming innocent.

Annie wasn’t fooled. He knew. Folding her hands in her lap, she leaned slightly forward. “It’s good to see you again.”

Oliver grinned. “You’re not a very good liar, Annie.”

He had her there. Why, oh, why, had she said that? Because he was right, it was a big lie. “Okay, it was a surprise to see you. Why aren’t you working?” She’d heard he had a wonderful job working for a high-tech company outside of Portland, designing computer software.

“I decided to quit.”

That sounded like something Oliver would do. While others were seeking employment in a down economy, Oliver felt the need to walk away from a high-paying job.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, at a loss to understand anything about this man.

He shrugged as if it were of little consequence. “I’ve always wanted to travel. I’m young and unattached, and if I’m going to see the world, then there’s no time like the present.”

“Backpacking through Europe?” How original of him to think of that.

“Australia.”

“Oh.” She’d always wanted to go there herself, but didn’t mention it.

“I have plans to visit New Zealand and the Cook Islands while I’m down under, too.”

“That should be interesting,” she said, hoping to keep the conversation light and friendly.

He positioned the guitar under his arm and took out a pick before glancing up at her. “I’m sorry I kept staring at you over lunch.”

His apology caught her off guard. That was the last thing she had expected from him.

He plucked a few strings. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, Annie.”

The urge to assure him flattery wouldn’t work tempted her, but she clamped her mouth closed. “Having you watch every move I make unsettles me, so I’d prefer that you don’t do it again.”

He nodded, strummed a few chords, and started to hum.

“I’d rather you didn’t fiddle with the guitar just now, either,” she said, feeling it was important that she have his full attention.

Her request took him by surprise, because he quickly glanced up. “Why not?”

“I was hoping we could talk, adult to adult.”

“I think best with a guitar in my hands.”

She remembered that he had enjoyed making up songs when he was younger. Most of the ones she remembered had verses in which he poked fun at her and her freckles or her braces. Her brother had explained that these days, Oliver used his guitar to attract women. Apparently, females found the fact that he played a real turn-on. Annie wasn’t that easily impressed.

He set the guitar down and focused his attention on her, and
Annie realized her mistake. It was much easier to talk to him when she didn’t have to meet his gaze.

“This anniversary party is important to me.”

“From what your grandmother told me, you’ve worked exceptionally hard putting it together.”

“I have,” she agreed, “so you can appreciate how much it means to my family to have everything come off smoothly.”

“Of course. If there’s anything I can do …”

“There is,” she said, leaping on his offer.

“Anything. All you need to do is ask.”

“Okay, I will,” she said, and stiffened her spine. “Please don’t use this opportunity to tease me, to make me the brunt of your silly jokes, or to …”

“Kiss you,” he offered in a low voice.

The memory of that kiss brought instant color to her cheeks. Oliver had given Annie her very first kiss. Foolish girl that she was, she believed herself in love with him and that he’d come to like her, too. It’d happened late one summer night when her family had visited her grandparents. She remembered that the stars were out in a moonlit sky. Having a romantic heart, she’d lain down on a blanket and gazed up at the heavens. Her brother was in their grandparents’ house fast asleep and her parents and grandparents were playing pinochle, unaware that Annie had snuck outside.

That’s where Oliver had found her. He’d lain down on the blanket next to her and they’d talked for a long time. The way he’d talked to her was unlike any other time they’d been together. He’d pointed out several of the constellations, and she’d been impressed that he knew so much about the night sky.

He’d told her how he’d always looked forward to her summer visits and that he liked it when she was there. She was thirteen, and he was a year older. He’d held her hand that night, clasping her fingers in his own. Even now she remembered how her heart had leapt
with excitement at his touch. It’d seemed wildly romantic. Silly girl that she was, her head had instantly filled with notions of love.

“You still haven’t forgiven me for that, have you?” Oliver said, cutting into her thoughts.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I should kiss you again.”

“Don’t even think about it, Sutton. I’m not some foolish young girl with my head in the clouds.”

“No, you were a sweet girl with stars in your eyes.”

“You led me on,” she countered, embarrassed even now all these years later by what had happened.

“I’m willing to make it up to you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

It was easy to see that this conversation wasn’t going anywhere. Annie stood, eager to return to the house.

Oliver stood, too, and before she knew it, he planted his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

She could have protested. She should have backed away out of his reach. Instinct told her if she’d protested, he would have instantly freed her. Why she didn’t, Annie might never understand.

Then right there on the porch with the sunshine bathing the early afternoon, Oliver leaned forward and kissed her for the second time in her life. His mouth, moist and warm, settled gently over hers, and before she could stop herself she yielded to him, opening her mouth to his, taking in the feel and the taste of him. He wrapped her in his embrace, and she put her arms around him as the kiss went on and on.

It didn’t take long for her to come to her senses and break away. This was even worse than the first time. Even better.

“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” he whispered.

Annie didn’t answer; she dared not. Instead, she fled back into the house, letting the door slam behind her.

Mary arrived at the Victorian Tea Room nearly fifteen minutes early. The friendly hostess with a name badge that read
DIANNA
placed her at a table by the window. The sun beamed into the room and warmed the chill that had settled over her.

She hated to admit how nervous she was to be seeing George again. Although she had the menu in her hand, her thoughts weren’t on food, however tempting. One of her fears was that George would no longer recognize her. As she’d repeatedly told him, she wasn’t the woman she had been nearly twenty years ago. Nor was she the woman he remembered. Other than the fact that she’d lost both her breasts, she was much thinner than before, no thanks to the side effects of chemotherapy. She’d wrapped a silk scarf over her head for fear the shock of seeing her bald would be too much for him.

Already she’d regretted agreeing to this rendezvous. No good would come of it. George would be shocked by her appearance, and she wouldn’t blame him. She hated to think that in addition to everything else cancer had weakened her ability to make wise decisions. To complicate matters, George would want to discuss the past, the pregnancy, and that was definitely a subject she hoped to avoid.

She was half tempted to get up and leave before he showed, yet curiosity and need kept her right where she was. Mary swallowed tightly as the door opened and George walked into the restaurant.

Her lungs froze, making it impossible to draw in a breath. She recognized him immediately. He hadn’t changed in the least. His hair, what he had, was silver now, giving him a dignified, distinguished look. She could see what an impressive figure he would make in the courtroom. He wasn’t especially handsome. His face, with his slightly too-large nose and his deep, dark eyes, revealed intelligence and character.

He paused and glanced around the room. The restaurant wasn’t busy. Four or five other tables were occupied. A party of six women, dressed in red hats and purple boas, sat in the middle of the room, chatting animatedly. They appeared to be having a wonderful time. Their laughter echoed through the restaurant. A couple sat at another nearby table and talked with their heads close together.

Mary squared her shoulders and nervously clenched the linen napkin with both hands. Even if she found the courage to leave, that was no longer an option.

George paused and waited for the hostess. Like her, he was several minutes early. “I’m meeting a friend,” Mary heard him tell the young hostess. “Could I have a table in the sunshine?”

“Of course.”

He’d looked around the room as he followed the hostess. Mary had purposely chosen a seat behind a big plant so she was able to
see him but he wouldn’t immediately see her. As luck would have it, he was seated at the table next to hers. He sat down, with his back to her, and she could tell that he was as nervous as she was. She gave him a few minutes, gathered her resolve, and then stood and walked over to his table.

He glanced up and then blinked, as though even now he was unaware she was the woman he had once loved. Then his eyes rounded with surprise—perhaps it was shock; Mary couldn’t tell.

“Mary,” he said, as he slowly rose from the chair. “Mary,” he repeated, and reached for both her hands, clasping them in his own. “Oh, my sweet, sweet Mary.” He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, emotion causing her voice to tremble. “I know I look dreadful. I should never have agreed to let you see me like this.”

“No,” he said, stopping her. “No, don’t say that. I …” He seemed too choked up to continue and hurriedly stepped around the table in order to pull out her chair. He waited until she was seated and then leaned forward and whispered, “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

To him and to him alone, she hadn’t changed one bit. Mary loved him all the more for seeing her as she had been almost twenty years earlier.

As soon as they were both seated, the waitress came for their drink order.

“Tea,” George suggested, looking to Mary.

“Yes, please,” she said.

The waitress dutifully listed a number of varieties, and George deferred to Mary. “Earl Grey,” she said.

“Anything to eat?” Dianna asked next. “We have a Cobb salad on our luncheon special today.”

“No, thanks, I’ve already eaten,” Mary said. The truth was, she’d had very little to eat, nervous as she was about this meeting.
Ever since she’d started the cancer treatments, food held little appeal. Her appetite was almost nonexistent, which accounted for part of the weight loss.