By Candlelight

by Janelle Taylor

  “Yeah, but, so what? Oh, wait…is he married?”

  “I…I don’t really know,” Kate realized with a funny little jump of her heart. “I just assumed he wasn’t. He was engaged once, I know.”

  “He didn’t seem married,” April mused.

  “Well, I don’t care if he is, or he isn’t.” She gave April a knowing look and added, “Now, there’s a man who’s definitely not my type.”

  “Oh, come on, Mom!”

  “I mean it. Tom DeSart with the ponytail is just fine, thank you very much.”

  “You dated Mr. Talbot once.”

  “What is this? I thought you wanted me to fall head over heels for Mr. DeSart.”

  “I’m just saying, keep your options open. You never know what can happen,” April pointed out patiently.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Kate muttered, slipping on the other earring and surveying herself in the mirror. She had on a bit more makeup than normal, and her golden eyes were shaded and hinted at secrets. April quickly pulled down a few tendrils of Kate’s carefully scraped back hair.

  “Hey!”

  “You’ve just got to loosen up a bit.” She met Kate’s eyes in the mirror, examining the soft curls that wisped against her mother’s neck. “Isn’t that better?” she asked anxiously.

  “Yes,” Kate admitted with a reluctant smile.

  The front doorbell chimed, and April jumped to answer it. “He’s here!” she sang out.

  Kate’s jittery nerves kept right on jittering, but when April admitted Tom, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was five foot ten, tops, and his expression was calm and benign. He was about as unthreatening as a person could be, and after delivering April a hug, Kate climbed in beside him in his rather dilapidated Jeep.

  “Did you get the same pressure I did to go on this date?” Tom asked with a smile.

  “Yes!” Kate expelled, glad he had brought it up first.

  “I told ‘em I’d humor ‘em. I figured you’d be an uptight businesswoman,” he explained.

  “Just about out of business,” Kate murmured.

  Tom was quick on the uptake. “You got money problems?”

  “My accountant just gave me a talking to, and I have to increase sales. Easy, right?” she asked ironically.

  “Hardest thing on God’s green earth. I sell watercolors, and it’s about all I can do to keep this thing runnin’.” He affectionately patted the dashboard of the Jeep. “I’m always takin’ it out to some godforsaken strip of country, and it’s startin’ to get tired.” He shrugged. “But it’s what I do.”

  “As long as you’re happy, that’s the main thing.”

  “Yeah, I am.” He slid her a thoughtful look.

  They ate dinner at a small cafe, and Kate noticed Tom carefully avoided all forms of red meat. He also stayed away from chicken and fish, and finally admitted he was a true vegetarian. Their conversation ranged from politics to their children, but no topic was dug into with gusto.

  As the evening ended, Kate stuck out her hand to say goodnight, and Tom seemed relieved at the handshake. “I’m seein’ someone,” he admitted. “She’s an artist, like me, but I just haven’t introduced her to Ryan yet.”

  “No problem,” Kate said, taking no offense.

  “The kids were so gung-ho about us havin’ a date that I couldn’t say no. And I’m glad I didn’t,” he added. “But I thought you should know.”

  “This was fun,” Kate assured him. She was relieved that this one date wasn’t going to turn into a complicated thing. “Could you do me a favor?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe you ought to tell your son about your friend, so my daughter will get off my back.”

  He laughed and nodded. “You’re a good lady,” he said.

  Kate smiled and waved as he drove away. She stood on the front porch letting the warm wind blow at her chignon, wishing for something she couldn’t name.

  Inside, she fixed herself a cup of tea and waited for April to get home from the movies. A feeling of melancholy stole over her. Okay, so she wasn’t inherently suited for Tom DeSart, big deal. There were other men out there.

  And who needed a man anyway? She certainly didn’t.

  Plumping the sofa pillows with more energy than finesse, Kate prowled the room, but her sad mood wouldn’t lift. Once again she felt like getting away, but it was easier said than done. She didn’t want April to stay home alone. She might trust her daughter, but she had heard of too many teen parties that started innocently enough with just a few kids, then turned into raging bashes. However, Jillian would probably come house-sit if she asked. She had done so at a moment’s notice in the past.

  But where can I go?

  The beach. She hadn’t been there in over a year. Longer perhaps, since it hadn’t been Ben’s favorite vacation spot by a long shot. Ben had preferred dryer climes and resorts laced with golf courses. Oregon’s beaches were notoriously overcast every season, and in the winter, wet and stormy.

  But it was August, the one month of the year you could almost count on the weather. And what did she care anyway? If the rains came, so be it. She could stay inside her motel room with a good book and make a couple quick trips for razor clams and-Dungeness crab.

  By the time April showed up, Kate was decided. “Jillian’s on her way over,” she said. “She’s going to house-sit while I take a trek to the beach, unless you want to go with me.”

  “Tonight? Is Tom going?” April asked.

  “NO!”

  April pulled back a bit at Kate’s reaction. “Uh oh. The date was a disaster?”

  “No, no. We’re just not that compatible. We’re too different, but we had a great time.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. But believe me, that’s it,” Kate said firmly.

  “Oh, Mom, give it a chance!”

  There was no talking to her. “Yeah, well…,” she murmured. She would wait until Tom talked to Ryan before she told April that Tom was seeing someone else. “So, how about it? You want to go to the beach?”

  April glanced at the clock, squinching up her nose in a familiar gesture that meant she was about to let her mother down. “I’d kind of like to hang around here,” she admitted. “Jillian doesn’t have to come over.”

  “I think I’d feel safer, just the same,” Kate said dryly.

  “Nothing would happen!”

  Kate half laughed. “Jillian’s desperate to do a favor for me because she’s trying to set me up on a date with a friend of hers. I swear, between the two of you I don’t get a moment’s peace!”

  “Who’s her friend?” April asked suspiciously. “You didn’t like Ryan’s dad, did you?”

  “I told you, he was great. Stop fussing.” Kate uttered a sound of frustration. “This is your last chance. I’m heading for the beach.”

  “This is weird, Mom. You never just take off at a moment’s notice.”

  “Yes, I do. Jillian’s come over here before in a flash.”

  “Not for a weekend to the beach!”

  Realizing there was no way to explain, Kate hugged April and gave her a kiss, then reached for her carryall. “I’ll call and tell you where I am as soon as I get there. And you be good,” she added with mock sternness.

  “If I can’t be good, I’ll be careful,” April replied insouciantly.

  “Oh, April…” Kate gave her a look and headed out the door.

  Chapter Eight

  Dark waves swept over the beach to end in white, frothy edges. Pinpoints of light dotted the jut of land at the south end of the beach where megahouses were currently being built. Seaside, Oregon, had been a vacation resort at the turn of the century, gradually diminishing in desirability as it grew shabbier and shabbier. Its neighbor to the south, Cannon Beach, sprang up to become the beach of choice. Trendier, it was the place to go during Kate’s youth, its shopping and brighter look drawing huge crowds while Seaside seemed like a forgotten and less-loved stepsister.

  But in recent yea
rs there had been a rejuvenation. Seaside’s famed “turnaround,” the landmark end of the Lewis & Clark trail, was still a popular place to visit. Shops were sportier, newer, dressed up. Real estate skyrocketed, and the once boiling carnival-like atmosphere of corn dogs and kiddie car rides and Coney Island sideshows had slowed to a simmer of taffy shops, espresso stands and just an occasional bumper car ride or go-cart track.

  Kate stood on the promenade near the turnaround. The night was cool but bearable. People milled around the swing sets on the beach or sat by fires they had built in pits they had dug into the sand. In her line of vision a couple lay on a blanket about fifty feet away, occasionally leaning close to cuddle and kiss, then lying back to stare at the stars.

  Kate had driven to the coast in a near daze, the two-hour trip seeming almost instantaneous. She had surfaced on the edge of town when she had connected with a snarl of Friday evening traffic as vacationers surged through the streets. It had never occurred to her that she might find it difficult to rent a room, but after passing several No Vacancy signs, she realized how naive she had been.

  She had rushed out of Portland with no thought except escape. Now she rued her impetuousness. She supposed she could drive south, toward Cannon Beach, but she imagined it would be much the same thing. She had parked her Mustang in a lot behind several shops, lucky to find a parking spot at all; then she had strolled toward Broadway, the main street which ended at the turnaround.

  Now, backtracking, she weaved her way through the crowds to a burger spot which played 50s’ music and seemed to be a shrine to Elvis. It sported sliding glass doors street side, pushed wide tonight so that the noise and smells from outside mixed with the sounds and scents of frying burgers and french fries on the inside. Kate grabbed one of the cafe tables near the sidewalk, luckily vacated just as she had walked in. Holding the plastic-coated menu before her eyes, she decided she wasn’t hungry at all, but since she was occupying space, she told the gum-popping waitress she would take a Coke and curly fries.

  She wished April had joined her. It was all well and good to get away from it all, but she was feeling decidedly lonely right now. She didn’t want to think about work, and she didn’t want to think about the future. April was about to start her senior year, and when that was finished, what then?

  The curly fries were delivered with a hurried thump, the Coke with a little more care. Selecting a french fry, Kate squirted some ketchup in the grease-spotted paper tub that housed her fries, dabbed desultorily and munched without much real enjoyment. Idly, she watched passersby. Unbidden, memories of the night she and Jake had pledged their love to each other swirled inside her head. It had been inside his sports car, parked not two blocks from here. She remembered fogging up the windows while they kissed and cuddled and petted and generally acted like romantic idiots.

  Of course it had been nearly Christmas, and the weather had been frigid and stormy. They hadn’t actually gone to the Talbot’s beach house then; that had come later. But it was a momentous night in spite of that, for their feelings had been placed on the table once and for all. It had been the beginning of the end.

  The beach had always held a special significance for her; she could see that now. And whenever she had felt the urge to come here, she had been secretly glad Ben didn’t want to join her. Seaside was hers and Jake’s, and though it was a silly, romantic fantasy she couldn’t quite shake; it was hers and hers alone. And she wanted it to remain that way.

  She would come here about once a summer. All the while April was a toddler and into elementary school, the two of them would manage to sneak a weekend at the beach together. They were some of Kate’s fondest memories, although now she could admit there had always been that element of “Jake” that had been a part of it, too. It was like a pilgrimage, a trek made to the memory of April’s father, Kate’s one-time love, and if she had spent too much time standing on the prom outside the Talbot’s house, remembering, at least no one knew about it but her.

  And it wasn’t like she still loved him or anything. Heavens, no! But it wasn’t possible for her to completely burn those memories of him out of her brain, so once in a while she wallowed in them. Big deal.

  However, tonight she felt differently. She had seen Jake again, for pete’s sake, and consequently thoughts of him and the time they had spent together at his beach house were very close.

  Kate paid for her food, then made her way back toward the turnaround. Lights illuminated a swath of beach, but Kate couldn’t help glancing south down the prom to where she knew the Talbots’ house stood. With the escalation in real estate prices, the property had undoubtedly zoomed in value. It had been worth a small fortune even in her youth, beachfront property selling for a premium.

  Lifting her face to a soft breeze, Kate made herself concentrate on dollars and cents, refusing to remember how she and Jake had spread a blanket on the sand just outside his parents’ house so many years ago.

  Well, a lot had changed since then, hadn’t it?

  Tucking her hands inside her lightweight jacket, Kate strolled down the promenade, her heart beating a rapid tattoo as she passed the low river-rock wall that ran the perimeter of the Talbot property. A wrought-iron gate opened to a flagstone path which led to the wide front porch. River-rock columns held up the roof which sloped skyward to those upstairs rooms where she and Jake had made love.

  Stop it! Kate berated herself, infuriated. Trips down memory lane were just fine, but she had about had her fill. Just because she had laid eyes on Jake again for the first time since she was eighteen didn’t mean the earth had stopped spinning. It was bound to happen eventually, wasn’t it? They lived in the same city, for crying out loud, and they each ran a well-known business. Okay, hers wasn’t even an iota as well known as Talbot Industries, but that didn’t mean Rose Talent didn’t have a name. Heavens, no. There wasn’t a talent agency in Portland with a better reputation. She was just in a temporary downturn, that’s all. It didn’t mean she was completely down and out.

  So, it had been just a matter of time until she and Jake crossed paths. Actually, it was a miracle it hadn’t happened before. Portland wasn’t that big. The situation was as simple as that.

  As Kate stared upward to the wide dormer that opened onto the master suite of the Talbot beach house, a light burst on. With a gasp, Kate shrank into the shadows. Someone was there! As she watched, a dark form stood in relief against the yellow, rectangular square of light. A familiar silhouette. Jake Talbot, himself!

  Instantly Kate wanted to hide. She was standing directly in front of his house, bare and distinguishable, she was certain. She turned to and fro, feeling like a criminal. Where? Where? Without conscious thought she turned to the beach itself, half running, half stumbling down a weed-choked path that bumped over uneven sand hills. The flat stretch of damp sand, compacted by the ocean, seemed far away.

  She ran like the devil himself were chasing her. Realizing how ridiculous she was behaving, she muttered, “You idiot!” beneath her breath at the same moment she began to slow her steps. Her lungs were bursting. Thinking of what her sudden race for the beach might have looked like to the man backlit in the window, she groaned in selfdisgust, then lost concentration just long enough to miss a step. She tried to catch her balance, failed, and a second later her right ankle buckled.

  “Uh!” Kate grunted in anguish as hot pain shot up her leg. She crumpled facedown in the sand with a moan. She had twisted her ankle again, and she could tell she had really done it this time.

  She lay still then, feeling her heart beat in her sprained ankle. It was a familiar, dull ache that brought with it a host of other memories. “Oh, God,” she murmured, covering her head with her arms. She wanted to laugh. She was so horribly stupid! But the sound that escaped her lips was more like a sob, and she prayed to everything holy that no one had seen her demented dash, and that she could somehow rise up and hobble back to her Mustang unaided.

  But as each second ticked by she felt her ankle gro
w tighter and tighter within her shoe, and she recognized with miserable defeat that she was going to need some help.

  Jake swirled a snifter of brandy absently between his palms, staring into its amber depths. He was annoyed at himself. He had run out of Portland as if he’d had a pack of dogs at his heels. What was this sudden aversion to seeing Sandra? And when had he been unable to face a situation?

  The answer: never. He had always been the one to address each problem as it arose. Not like Phillip.

  He sighed, swallowing a deep gulp of the fiery liquid, grimacing as it burned its way down. Phillip was the one who had turned him on to brandy that night on the porch so long ago. Maybe they were more alike than he wanted to admit.

  His meeting with the principles of Diamond Corporation had gone well. Marcus Torrance, the company’s president, was a no-nonsense individual who liked to keep meetings short and concise. This suited Jake just fine, and they had concluded their business in record time. Then, thirty minutes after shaking hands with Marcus, Jake had been on his way to his condo to change clothes and pick up his bag. However, Phillip had caught up with him at his designated parking spot, and Jake, who had dealt more with his brother at Talbot this past week than in all the time they had hitherto worked together, was in no mood to be slowed down.

  “What?” he had demanded, when Phillip straightened from his position of lounging against Jake’s car.

  “How did it go with Diamond Corp.?”

  “Fine.” Jake’s brows slammed together. He didn’t understand Phillip at all. “I asked you earlier if you wanted to join us.”

  “I know.” He nodded as if he had been giving it serious consideration. “I feel I should—get more involved now.”

  Catching the aroma of liquor, Jake asked with a sinking sensation, “When did you start drinking today?”

  “I’ve had one drink.” Phillip was affronted. “I came to ask you if you wanted to join me for another.”

  “No, thanks. I’m heading to the beach.”