Southern comfort, p.18
Southern Comfort, page 18
“Did you do only your half of the kitchen?” Lucas asked. She got it after a moment and made a face at him. He continued, “Sounds good to me. There are a lot of things that need to get done in the house.”
“I noticed that you painted the foyer. It looks nice and fresh,” she said.
“Thank you. You approve?”
“Well…I might have picked a different color, but what you did is fine.” She leaned forward in her chair, holding her straw hat down with one hand as a gust of wind threatened to rip it from her head. “I’ve been thinking. Why don’t we build some sort of deck out from the back of the house? We could put in a rolldown awning so it could be used even if it rains. What do you think?”
“Sounds like a good idea, but I wouldn’t put it at the top of the list. The house needs a good painting on the inside. That first-floor bathroom needs to be redone. I want to see if the fireplace in the living room can be made to work.”
Lucas tried not to react to the fact that she’d asked his opinion, or to her clear intentions to be around for a long time. He didn’t feel like arguing the point. Instead, he was aware of the warm, humid air producing a certain lethargy in him. He stripped off his shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from his chest. Then he leaned back on his elbows, tilting his face to the sun and closing his eyes. He felt liberated and content. He didn’t know how long it was going to last, but for right now, being on Highland was the whole world.
“Here. Use some of this,” Rachel said.
“What?” He opened his eyes to find her holding out a bottle of sunblock. “You’re right, I should.” He recognized the irony of being a black man in need of sun protection. Accepting the bottle, he sat up, unscrewed the top, and began applying the lotion to his arms, face, and chest
“What are you working on?” he asked.
“I was playing around with some new designs. The flowing of the Chesapeake gave me an idea for some hair combs that might work for a line of summer accessories. It’s been slow going since I’m really just hanging out and working on my tan.”
His back presented a dilemma. Lucas knew he couldn’t reach it himself. Rachel took the bottle out of his hands.
“Let me do it. Turn around,” she ordered.
Lucas shifted, presenting his back to her. He anticipated the first touch of her hands, but was unprepared for the electric charge that coursed through his body. He started involuntarily.
“Is it cold?” she asked.
“It’s fine.” He hunched forward. On the contrary, the lotion seemed hot as she slowly rubbed it into his skin with small circular movements. The lack of pressure from her hand made the contact feel like a caress. Lucas closed his eyes, breathing slowly as he found the smooth strokes seductive and stimulating.
She methodically covered every inch of skin, curving over his shoulders and traveling lightly across the back of his neck. Her touch sent a shock wave through him. Sliding down his spine, her long, uninterrupted movement caused a spasm of tension in his stomach and he could track the exact moment that the tension shifted from sensual to erotic. Lucas pulled away.
“I’m not finished,” Rachel complained
“That’s good enough. Thanks. Will this wash off as soon as I hit the water?” Lucas asked, springing to his feet
“No, it’s indestructible. You’ll have to melt it off,” she smiled up at him.
Lucas silently emptied his pockets of his wallet, keys, and cell phone, unceremoniously handing them to Rachel. “Hold these, will you? I’m going in for a swim.”
Before Rachel could respond, he was jogging to the water’s edge, his well-developed leg muscles showing a man who was fit and vigorous and physical. Rachel watched as he ran right into the gentle surf, pushing off into a dive headfirst as his outstretched hands and arms neatly cleaved the surface. When his head finally popped up above the water, he was already some distance from the beach. She watched as Lucas treaded water and oriented himself before he began swimming in a smooth, leisurely crawl parallel to the shore. She watched for a long time expecting him to quickly tire and return. But he showed no signs of stopping, performing lap after lap parallel to the shore. The sun slipped behind the clouds that, once far away, seemed to be rolling in toward land, turning the sky dark in its wake.
The first splash of rain was heavy and quick, dotting the sand and pelting her skin. There was an instant scramble among other holdouts as blankets and towels were tossed into beach bags, chairs collapsed and folded up, calls went out for children to hurry and get their things, and everyone made a mad dash for cover. Rachel quickly followed suit, expecting Lucas to appear as the rain began coming down in a relentless torrent. The beach was almost deserted and she didn’t see him, nor could she tell if he was still in the water. She hoped not. She grabbed his shoes and shirt, adding them to her things, and ran for the shelter of the house. She managed to get everything up the steps, except for the beach chair that she left at the foot. Rachel was thoroughly wet by the time she got inside the house. Standing in the open doorway, she searched again for Lucas. She felt a twinge of apprehension. Did he get a cramp? Was he sucked beneath the water by a phantom undertow? Had he taken refuge somewhere else?
Rachel deposited her wet towels in the bathroom and went to get more dry ones. She came right back to the door when it suddenly opened and Lucas hurried in, water running from every part of his body.
“What happened to you?” she questioned frantically.
Lucas used his hands to wipe the water from his face. His shorts were plastered to his body.
“I’m glad you were smart enough not to hang around out there waiting for me,” he said.
“Lucas, you scared me. When you didn’t come back after the rain started, I didn’t know what to think.”
He stood with his hands on his hips looking at her while water dripped to the floor. “Were you worried about me?”
“Yes,” she answered, annoyed. She left him there to return to the kitchen, to a closet that had been converted into a laundry space and outfitted with stacked washer and dryer. She pulled another clean towel from the pile on top of the dryer.
“I got invited to share a large umbrella with some people who decided to wait out the worst of the rain.”
“I hope you had a good time,” she said, returning with the towel and tossing it to him.
“Yeah, I did. People are friendly around here. As a matter of fact, I ran into some ladies I met my first time here. They remembered me.”
“I’m not surprised.”
He was scrubbing the towel back and forth over his head and then bending to dry his hairy legs and chest. She watched the play of muscles in his arms and across his shoulders. When he stood up straight again, his gaze seemed to roam her body as she stood in front of him in only the turquoise swim-suit and flip-flops. Her hair was twisted to the back of her head and held there by a claw clasp. His eyes were particularly drawn to her chest, and she realized that the cold rain had forced her nipples into turgid little peaks that were probably visible through the Lycra of her suit. She did nothing to conceal herself, feeling a peculiar power and desire that Lucas stay focused on her. Slowly he dragged his attention up to her face, and Rachel met his stare with open frankness.
“Did you have a good swim?”
“I did. It was just what I needed.” He began to haphazardly fold the towel, still studying her with his bright gray-green eyes. “Were you really worried about me?”
She heard the genuine curiosity in the question. She heard a kind of surprise bordering on disbelief. She listened closely and imagined that she even heard something hopeful. It was a loaded question, and a minefield.
Suddenly feeling awkward, Rachel lowered her gaze. Turning, she headed for the stairs. “I’m going up to change into something dry,” she said, leaving the question unanswered.
It was forty-five minutes later when she left her room and returned to the first floor. There was a CD of mellow jazz playing from the living room. Hearing it reminded her of something she realized she should have done earlier. Too late, she entered the room and found Lucas, who’d also changed in the interim, standing in front of a long landscape hung on the wall. He appeared to be viewing it solemnly and with his undivided attention.
“Lucas, I’m sorry. I meant to tell you about the painting, but—”
“Where did you get this?” he asked.
“From the artist. I saw it at an opening last month in New York. It was the night I learned about Julia,” she added softly. When he didn’t respond she rushed on. “If you don’t like it I’ll take it down. I just wanted to see how it would look on—”
“Was it expensive?”
“Expensive? I guess so. But I didn’t pay for it.”
Finally he turned to regard her closely. “Since I don’t believe you would steal it, you’ll have to explain that”
“I bartered for it. Actually, the artist wanted something from me in exchange, so I agreed. I made a necklace for his mother’s birthday. I accepted the painting as payment.”
“Nice deal,” he said.
“I know how you feel about me taking over and not telling you when I’m doing something. I can put the painting upstairs on the second floor. Or even in my room—”
“I like it.” Lucas turned to look at the painting again.
“Are you sure?”
“You know what it reminds me of? When you’re driving in toward the gatehouse and the road splits between Venice and Highland Beach, there’s a little break where you can see beyond the trees to a patch of sky, and you know that just below it is the Chesapeake.”
“That’s pretty much what I thought, too,” she agreed, standing next to him.
“So, we’ll leave it here on this wall?”
Rachel glanced at him. “If it’s okay with you.”
“It’s okay with me. See, that wasn’t so hard. Maybe we’re getting the hang of this after all.”
“Maybe,” she smiled, enjoying the light in his eyes shining down on her. “Why did you ask if the painting was expensive?”
“Well, if you’d paid a lot of money for it, I’d feel I should pay for half since we’re both going to enjoy it.”
She laughed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Any more surprises for me?”
“Well, up in your room—”
“I saw the quilt and the rug. It would have been nice if you’d asked first, but I’m getting used to you. And I like the new touches. So thank you. I appreciate that you were thinking of me.
She shrugged almost shyly. “I thought those few things would make the room more comfortable.”
“I’ll reimburse you for whatever you laid out,” Lucas said.
“The shade is from a lamp I found in a closet. The rug was from a discount store in New York. The quilt is mine. I have several that were made by my grandmother.”
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
“I’m sure. She would be very happy to know they’re being used. So, what are your plans? How long are you staying?”
He sighed, strolling away as he considered her question. “A couple of days, I guess. Not as long as a week. And you?”
“Same thing. I needed a break, but I have so much work to catch up on.”
“Then let’s not waste our time talking about work or leaving,” Lucas grinned.
“Good idea.”
“How do you feel about driving into Annapolis this evening? I thought we could find some place that serves up decent crab cakes.”
Her smile faded and she knew her face looked stricken.
“Don’t like the idea?”
“Lucas, I’d love to go, but I have plans for the evening.”
“Do you?” he asked, managing to look surprised and accepting all at the same time.
“Harrietta Cousins invited me to have dinner with her. I think I mentioned her to you. I know she’s been hoping to meet you. Come with me.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t much want to be put under a microscopic lens and have my life dissected. Your Harrietta is going to want to know what the deal was between Julia and me. Not yet.”
“If I’d known you were driving down this afternoon—”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference. I would still say no.”
“What will you do?”
“I’ll be fine, Rachel.”
“Maybe you’ll have the time to look through that box your grandmother gave you. I noticed it’s still on the table over there in the corner.”
He turned away restlessly. “Not tonight.”
“But how do you know there’s not something really important in there for you?”
“Because if there was, Julia could have given it to me a long time ago. What’s the big rush for me to find out now?” he said, almost shouting.
Rachel was stunned by his sudden vitriolic reply. She stared wide-eyed at Lucas and decided she wasn’t going to let him get away with that.
“You’re avoiding it.”
“So what?” he asked, trying to gain control of his sudden outburst.
“That box has been sitting there for weeks.”
“Let it go, Rachel. Don’t push.” His voice was now dangerously low.
“What are you afraid of?” she persisted, despite knowing there might be consequences.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive her.” His tone was loud, hard, angry. “I honestly don’t know if I can. And if I can’t, then I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life. Right now not knowing is manageable. Do you understand?”
Slowly her fear subsided, and her sympathy for Lucas increased. He sat heavily on the old sofa and she followed to sit next to him, but not too close. He still needed space.
“I think I do understand. You know, it wasn’t until Julia was gone that I finally saw how little I knew my own mother and how little credit I gave her for being just who she is. That was my fault because I was always comparing her to Julia and thinking my mother didn’t measure up. I made Julia into a superwoman in my mind and gave her all kinds of mythical powers. I made Julia bigger than life, and it wasn’t fair to her, me, or my mother.”
Lucas regarded her closely. “What are you trying to say?”
“Julia was a beautiful, lively, kind person. But she was also very sad and very lonely. I didn’t know that until I met you, but now I see how her choices made her who she was. Her choices even made you who you are because someone else raised you.
“Look, what I’m really trying to say is, life is about choices. I think your mother lived long enough to deeply regret hers. That’s kind of where you are now. To forgive, or not to forgive. To move on, or stay lost in the past.”
Lucas didn’t respond at all. She wasn’t even sure he’d been listening to what she said. She wasn’t sure she’d made any sense. Rachel gazed at him a moment longer and got up, heading toward the door. She didn’t want to keep Harrietta waiting. But she regretted having to leave Lucas alone. She turned one more time to speak to him.
“You’re a musician. Music speaks to you in a special way, doesn’t it? There’s a line in a song that goes, ‘If you’re given a choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.’ Lucas, I hope you dance.”
When Rachel returned just before ten, the house was almost completely dark, except for the outside porch light and a counter lamp in the kitchen. It was so quiet she thought that maybe Lucas had gone out after all and not come back. She went from that to the possibility that he had left and wasn’t going to return. But she didn’t believe that was really the case.
She could hear faint music coming from somewhere outside the back of the house. When she passed through the living room and solarium, she saw that the back door was open. Approaching, she stood in the opening and looked out.
The moon was high, and it cast light that rippled over the surface of the Chesapeake and created shadows on the beach and in the park across the street. The music she heard was coming from another house, slow background melodies playing behind low conversation and laughing. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust, but even then she couldn’t see much of anything in the dark.
She cautiously descended the steps, walking a little bit away from the steps to stand in the warm summer air. It was quiet and peaceful. The thought came to Rachel that sooner or later she would have to return to New York. She had a business to operate, obligations to meet, and projects to develop, but in that moment she was as happy as she’d ever been, and it was getting harder and harder to imagine herself anywhere else. There was only one thing that would make it perfect, but she was convinced that the chances were slim to none that it was possible to have everything. Julia had tried and ended up alone and unfulfilled. Rachel had decided not that long ago that although she loved and admired Julia dearly, she didn’t want to be like her. Perhaps that was the most important thing she’d learned from her.
“How was dinner?”
The disembodied voice startled Rachel. She detected Lucas coming toward her out of the darkness. She was glad to see him, glad that he’d not been scared off by ghosts.
“Entertaining.”
“You’re home early.”
“It’s not like it was a date. She’s an elderly woman set in her ways. Dinner at seven, in bed by nine-thirty. She was probably asleep before I got back here.”
Lucas stopped in front of her and Rachel noticed at once that he seemed more relaxed than when she’d left him.
“I thought about maybe going over there to walk you back, but I figured that chances were slim to none that you’d have to worry about being mugged or kidnapped on the street.”
“Thanks for the thought. Harrietta’s granddaughter offered to drive me, but I told her I was going to be okay. Besides, Harrietta guaranteed that Highland Beach does not have crime.”
“She sounds opinionated.”
“Oh, very. She loves to talk, knows everything and everyone, and will gladly get into your business. She says she’s glad that you’ve come to take your place in the community. I’m also to tell you that you have a standing invitation to come to see her and have dinner, and she expects you to be prompt. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and no is not an option.”
