Worth the Wait (10 page)

Vivi went still, as if she were holding her breath. “That’s a nice idea. Let’s play it by ear, though, okay? Who knows what we’ll both be doing in four weeks.”

Her refusal to commit to any plans sent him a cold, clear signal—she intended to keep him at a distance. He’d acquiesce for now, but not forever. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He waited for a response. She faced him, wearing a serene smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Sleep well, David.”

Torn and unsatisfied, he conceded. “Good night, Vivi,” he said on a sigh.

He gently squeezed her shoulder, allowing his fingers to linger a few seconds before he released her and went inside.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

M
uttering a curse thanks to another restless night, Vivi pushed the clock aside and glowered at the ceiling. Six o’clock. Why couldn’t she sleep in like a normal person on vacation?

Across the room, Cat’s chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. Vivi studied the framed picture of a vintage sailboat hanging on the wall. Several minutes passed before she gave up all attempts to relax. Dragging herself from bed, she schlepped to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

With her hands plastered on the vanity, she stared at the mirror. Naturally, her tangled mess of hair stuck out in six different directions. After several painful attempts to finger comb the unruly mass, she gave up and tucked it behind her ears as best she could.
Laney probably wakes up with perfect hair
, she thought.
Ugh!
Driving herself insane with comparisons wouldn’t help.

Anyway, Franco liked her imperfect appearance. She brightened in anticipation of seeing him again. Between him and the upcoming performance, she’d lucked into some intriguing distractions.

She closed her eyes and imagined Franco’s accent. Very hot! More than once she’d wondered why such a good-looking, mature man with an awesome career would find her interesting. Something must be wrong with him, and it would become apparent soon enough. She shrugged because she liked the diversion, in any event.

Satisfied her morning hair and breath were no longer lethal, she pushed away from the sink. Her light footsteps echoed in the open stairwell. When she reached the main level, the aroma of a fresh pot of coffee surprised her. Who else was awake . . . and whistling? Turning the corner, she bumped into Hank.

“Hey, you.” She opened the cupboard and grabbed the largest mug available. “Why are you up so early?”

“Habit.” He shoved his fingers through his thick hair, then sat at the dining table. “Anyway, I prefer the quiet before the storm, so to speak.”

Trailing behind him, Vivi sat down and inhaled the coffee’s aroma as she filled her mug.
Mmm, wonderful.

“Jackson’s still in bed?” She took a quick sip.

“He’ll be sleeping for a while.” Hank stretched his legs. “He got pretty drunk last night.”

“I’m concerned about him. He doesn’t look happy or healthy.” Vivi blew out a long breath while thinking of her father’s path of destruction. “I’m sorry to put you on the spot, but is he drinking more than usual?”

Hank twirled his mug around twice with his fingers, then he sighed in resignation.

“Yeah.” Hank’s eyes remained fixed on his cup. “He’s been drinking a bit more since he and Alison broke up a few weeks ago.”

“Why’d they break up?”

“He won’t say, and I wouldn’t mention it to him,” Hank cautioned as he peered at Vivi from beneath his lashes.

She shivered at the possibility that Jackson might follow in her father’s footsteps. “I can’t watch another person in my life turn to alcohol to escape a broken heart. Maybe we should mention something to David?”

“That’ll only make things worse. Maybe they were close before, but Jackson hasn’t been happy with David lately.” He rhythmically slid his fingers up and down his coffee mug. “Jackson’s functioning well at work. And we’re on vacation. Even you drank a lot last night. Let’s give him a chance to work out his own demons.”

Vivi grimaced. “Promise you’ll reconsider speaking with David if you notice things continue to spiral downward.”

Hank pushed his mug away, leaned back, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You put a lot of faith in David, although it seems he’s wrapped up in his own life.”

“That’s the second unflattering comment you’ve made about him.” Her jaw clenched. “Why do you dislike him so much?”

“I don’t dislike him. I barely know him. All I know is he left town without so much as a backward glance, and Jackson feels abandoned by him.”

Her chin withdrew as if avoiding a fatal blow.

“I didn’t realize he owed
you
any explanation,” she quipped. “I’m sure there’s a good reason behind his unusual behavior. As for his family, he’d do anything if they needed him.” She returned her gaze to Hank, whose mouth had twisted in disbelief. “Trust me, I know David.”

“Okay, you know him better.” He shifted his legs. “Sorry.”

“Of course, I won’t pretend his recent behavior hasn’t hurt,” she admitted.

Vivi yawned and rubbed her eyes. Uncomfortable with the conversation, she turned and studied the large work of art perched on the living room fireplace mantel.

Its massive frame housed an unusual oil painting of the beach house and bluff. The nonconforming proportions and wavy lines grabbed one’s attention. In typical impasto application, brushstrokes spread thick layers of color on the canvas. Rather than choosing natural ocher and umber shades to reflect reality, she’d opted for vivid tints such as Vandyke brown, vermilionette, and viridian green, with the intention of making the painting shout love and warmth.

Hank leaned forward. “You like that painting?”

“I do.” She smiled slyly. “What about you?”

“It’s odd.” He studied it another moment. “But alive. Does that even make sense?”

“Perfect sense.” Her smile grew. “It’s alive with love and memories.”

“How do you know that?” Hank sat back and sipped his coffee.

“I painted it in high school, after my first visit here, and gave it to the family as a Christmas gift. David’s mom understood it right away.” Vivi leaned forward, chuckling to herself. “Everyone else probably thought I was drunk when I painted it.”

“Were you?” Hank teased.

“Drunk with joy, maybe. It was the first real vacation I’d taken since my mother and brother were killed.” She grimaced at the stab of remorse she felt any time she thought of them. Ignoring the heat creeping up her neck, she cleared her throat and continued. “When I got the idea to paint the house, I wanted to show how it felt more than how it looked. Back then I was in love with Van Gogh, so I mimicked what he did for olive trees and irises. Not very well, but . . .”

She suddenly remembered David’s impressed response to her gift. Later that year, he’d bought her an expensive set of Winsor & Newton red-sable-hair paintbrushes for her birthday. He’d researched to find the very best set, made from the tail hairs of a male Kolinsky.

Cat sauntered into the room wearing a creamy silk robe trimmed with black lace, pulling Vivi from her thoughts. Like Laney, Cat never had a bad hair day. She was always stunning, even with sleepy eyes. In fact, her sleepy eyes only made her look more beautiful. If Vivi didn’t love her, she could really hate her.

While Cat milled around the kitchen, Vivi noticed Hank watching her from the corner of his eye.

“What are you two discussing?” Cat poured herself a giant cup of coffee and joined them at the table. “You look like you’re deep into some kind of conspiracy.”

“No conspiracy, just talking about love and family.” Vivi winked at Hank, who was now sitting ramrod straight in his chair.

David emerged from his room and jogged down the steps as Hank replied to Vivi. “A lot to be said for family, especially siblings. I love being part of a big family.”

Hank’s statement hung over the table. Vivi froze, knowing he intended his remark for David’s ears.

“You’re up early, Cat.” David smirked as he filled his water bottle. “Want to come with me? Bet I can still beat you around our old loop.” His hopeful smile echoed the one he’d worn last night, before Vivi had denied him a conversation that would’ve only fueled more of her useless desire.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay.” David wiped the disappointment from his face before inserting his earbuds and taking off for a run. When Vivi returned her attention to the table, she caught Cat covertly staring at Hank.

Hank and Cat continued to tread a polite, aloof dance with each other, yet were relaxed with everyone else. Maybe Vivi would have better luck getting to the bottom of that puzzler today.

“I don’t have a big family, unless you count my crazy adopted family.” She reached for Cat’s hand, squeezing then releasing it. “What do you think, Cat? Do I happily share your burdens like a good sister would?”

“You’re a great sister.” Cat smiled affectionately, one of the few genuine smiles Vivi had seen from her all week. Justin’s continued cell phone stalking was taking a toll.

It seemed as if everyone but Hank and Laney were battling demons this week. Vivi understood Cat’s issues. Jackson’s and David’s struggles remained a mystery. Jackson’s drinking, however, concerned her most.

Had someone intervened with her dad decades ago, his life and hers might not have fallen apart so spectacularly. The realization cast doubt on Hank’s suggestion to give Jackson time to work things out alone. Involving David wouldn’t exacerbate the problem. Then again, Vivi habitually miscalculated when it came to relationships—and David. Perhaps she should heed Hank’s advice.

“Vivi, let’s take a quick bike ride.” Cat’s voice interrupted her musing.

“Sorry. Not up for it.” Then inspiration struck. “Hey, take Hank and show him some of the island.”

“No, thanks.” Hank interjected. “Last night Jackson mentioned chartering a fishing boat.”

Cat erased her indignant expression with lightning speed. “Just as well.”

He stood and nodded. “I’m going to shower.”

As he padded away, Vivi cast a questioning glance at her friend.

“What?” Cat ground out.

Vivi swallowed the remaining sip of her coffee and placed the mug in front of her. “Nothing.”

Cat groaned. “Well, I’m going to take a quick ride to work off all the extra calories I drank last night. Sure you won’t come?”

“Nope. Unlike yours, my boss doesn’t care if I gain weight!”

Once Cat left her, she searched out a deck chair and propped her feet up against the railing. The rising sun erased the last touches of lavender and pink from the horizon. She loved the hues of dawn and early evening skies. Every few minutes the colors changed and shifted, like sand art sliding into place.

Watching God’s version of performance art furnished the first truly peaceful event of her trip. Drawing in a deep whiff of sea air, she savored the quiet.

A short while later, Jackson appeared at her side looking a little rough.

“Hey, buddy, what’s up?” she asked. “Where’s Hank?”

“Yow.” He winced at her perky tone. “How ’bout turning it down to more of a whisper? Hank’s on the
phone.”

Contrary to any good judgment, Vivi took advantage of the easy opening he’d supplied.

“Partied too hard?” Her blithe tone belied her unease.

“Is there such a thing, V?” A hint of remorse tinged his joke.

“You know I can’t joke about drinking too much.” She carefully concealed any guilt she felt from throwing her father’s situation in his face.

“Sorry.” He took a long sip of coffee. “I forgot.”

“So, what’s going on with this new hairstyle?” She fingered the edges of his hair, hoping the change of subject would relax him. “Honestly, I’m not sure whose hair is worse, yours or mine.”

“What?” He tugged on his wayward locks. “You don’t like it?”

“No. It overwhelms your face, like a lion’s mane. You need a haircut, my dear.” When he closed his eyes without responding, she continued. “It’s not like you to let yourself go, or drink so much. Is everything okay?”

“I know you’re ultrasensitive to the drinking, but I’m fine.” He masked any trace of emotion. “We’re on vacation, right? Can’t I blow off some steam without being analyzed?”

He’d basically repeated Hank word for word. Faced with another closed-off St. James, she conceded. “Sure. As long as you remember that, if you want someone to talk to, you can trust me.”

“Duly noted.” He glanced out over the ocean. Although he avoided direct eye contact, he reached out and took hold of her hand.

His small gesture made her feel better. She clasped his hand with hers. Together they sat in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

A short while later, David appeared, clad in his sweat-soaked shirt, which clung to the corded muscles of his chest. Vivi’s breathing fell shallow. She cursed her involuntary reaction to his presence.

He leaned against the railing, his eyes darting to their clasped hands and then to Jackson. One of his brows shot up. “You two look cozy.”

Jackson rolled his eyes while Vivi widened hers. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear David looked hurt. He speared Jackson with a nasty stare.

“Strike out last night and looking for consolation?” David rested his hands on his hips.

Jackson stood and stalked into the house without saying a word, but the biting remark stunned Vivi into sputtering.

“What’s the
matter
with you?” she demanded once she found her voice.

“With me?” David asked incredulously. “What’s the matter with
you
? Every time I turn around you’re with another guy—Hank, Franco, Jackson—who’s next, Vivi?”

Her eyes narrowed to slits in response to his insinuation. “Who
are
you? You
look
like David, but you
act
like someone I don’t even know.”

“That must be why you’ve been treating me like a virtual stranger since you arrived.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you!” she scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His dark eyes widened.

Vivi’s mouth dropped open.
The nerve!
“Are you kidding me?” Buried heartache and confusion blew the lid off her composure. “You basically withdrew from my life without any explanation. Now you show up and want to pretend nothing has changed?”

The hard lines of his face softened. Using his foot, he yanked her chair close to him and then squatted in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Vivi. My reasons for leaving had nothing to do with my feelings for you, Jackson, or Cat. You know me, so you
know
I never meant to hurt anyone. I even wrote to you about it.”

Although his wild-eyed expression alerted her to be cautious, she didn’t heed the warning. Her pain overshadowed any desire to comfort him.