by Jill Barnett
Couples danced to a band on a large terraced patio where tables were placed under strung lights and tall stainless steel outdoor heaters, and servers dished from a buffet near a bar, where Jud stood ordering their drinks.
“Hello, Laurel.”
His voice took her back thirty years and she turned around.
“It’s been a long time.”
“Cale.” The first time she ever saw him, he epitomized all those vibrant colors of youth—trouble, hunger, a combination of eagerness and that innocence we have until life proves us naïve. She could only imagine how she had changed in all those years since. If experience sapped the color from your life, she was a black-and-white photo. And although he was even better-looking now, with some silver in his time-darkened hair and creases of experience in the corners of his eyes and mouth, the Cale that stood before her had no edges, just a sense of something innately lost about him.
“I like your hair.”
“Thank you.” She laughed nervously. “Jud didn’t recognize me.” They both looked toward the bar, where Jud’s back was to them. He leaned against the bar waiting for their drinks, foot resting on a stool while he talked and laughed with some people nearby.
“Then he’s a fool. I saw him walk in with you—Jud is always full of surprises—and I probably would have recognized you with blue hair.”
“A Smurf?”
“A Smurf.” He smiled then. “Can I get you something? Blueberry Slurpee, Pepsi Blue, Bombay Sapphire?”
“Maybe a quick flight to Mexico.”
“Feeling out of place?”
“A little.”
“I should have a talk with my brother.”
What passed between them was oddly easy. That same old repartee. She should have felt uncomfortable, on edge, ready to run. Two minutes with Jud caused more turmoil inside her than she felt now standing there with Cale for the first time.
“Laurel?” Matthew joined them. “This is a surprise. Is Annalisa here?”
“You know my son?” Cale said.
“Laurel and her daughter are doing the kitchen designs for the Camino Cliff project, Dad.”
“Annalisa isn’t here, Matthew.”
Jud walked up and handed her a glass of wine before he looked at Cale and said, “Just like old times.”
She wanted to kick him, but Cale only laughed. “Once an ass, always an ass. Why do you go out with him, Laurel?”
“I’m not sure right now He’s a bit of a pest. Doesn’t take no easily.”
“I’m missing something.” Confused, Matt looked back and forth between them.
“We’re old friends,” Cale said.
“What’s going on over here?” Victor Banning carried his years as elegantly as the cane he used to join them. He was smaller, thinner, the bones in his face more pronounced. One side of his mouth and eye drooped slightly and his speech was not sharp. The conversation came to a halt.
For an instant they stood there like cats with a cornered mouse, and she wondered who would pounce first. “Happy birthday, Mr. Banning.”
“Thanks. Just glad to be still breathing. I remember you. You’re that Peyton girl.” He looked from Cale to Jud. “When was that?”
“Nineteen seventy,” Jud said.
“Your mother still lives on the island?”
“Yes. Her studio has been there for years.” She was careful how she spoke of her mother with someone like Victor, who Cale swore all those years ago could smell the aroma of dissention a mile away.
“I’m familiar with her work. Impressive. The new show was a success.”
She could only imagine how her mother would react to Victor Banning complimenting her work. To Victor Banning knowing her work. To Victor Banning walking in on one of her shows. Her mother would take one look at him and run away on fire. Another Banning to blame for their own mistakes.
“I’m so confused,” Matt said under his breath. “So how do you know each other?”
Cale held up a hand. “Stop. Someone has to save her from the Banning inquisition. There’s food by the pool and over there near the bar. Jud, if you’re not going to take her outside, I will.”
“Find your own date,” Jud said.
“You’re not Jud’s date,” Matt said to Laurel.
“Yes,” Jud said pointedly, “she is.”
“Who’s Uncle Jud’s date?” A young man with the Banning good looks walked up, chewing on a chicken wing. “I was hoping for last month’s centerfold.”
“You’re your father’s son,” Victor said.
“Why would you say that, Gramps?”
“I hate it when you call me that.”
“Why do you think I do it?” He grinned at Victor, then winked at her. “Hi. I’m Dane.”
“Hello, Dane. I’m sorry I’m not a centerfold.”
“This is Laurel,” Jud told him. “And it would be great if all of you would stop giving her a hard time. She’s an old friend.”
“Whose friend?” Dane asked. “Uncle Jud’s, Gramps’s, or Dad’s?”
“Who knows? I’m completely in the dark. I thought she was a business associate,” Matt said.
“Of course you would, big brother. Everything with you is business.”
Jud looked at Cale. “They’re your sons. Do something.”
Cale glanced at Laurel and a heartbeat later they both burst out laughing. “Aren’t you glad you came?”
“Well, I’m not nervous anymore.”
“Good,” Jud said. “Because you looked like you wanted to shoot me when we pulled up and I told you where you were.”
“You’re not off the hook.” She poked his shoulder with a finger. “He told me we were going to a dinner party.”
Jud took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, apparently something of note by the looks on the others’ faces. “I didn’t lie. We are at a dinner party. I had enough trouble just getting you to go out with me. And you admitted if I had told you where we were going you would have never said yes.”
“Why did I say yes?”
“I gave you no choice.”
“So where’s your hot date?” Matt asked Dane.
“She couldn’t get off work.” He shrugged and picked up another chicken wing from a passing tray. “Looks like I’m all alone.”
“The woman I wanted to ask refuses to go out with me,” Matt said.
“Who is that smart woman?” Dane said.
“Probably a friend of your date—the one who used the excuse that she had to work.”
“This is a sad state of affairs,” Victor said. “Jud’s the only one with a woman.”
“Well,” Dane said. “We all know Dad, here, doesn’t have a date.”
Cale faced his sons. “You two laugh all you want. This year I might steal Jud’s. What do you say, Laurel? Dump Jud.”
“Fat chance,” Jud said.
Laurel looked at him. “Don’t be so sure of yourself, Jud.”
“I like you,” Dane said. “You’re perfect for my dad. Beautiful, smart, and you put Uncle Jud in his place.”
“She’s great,” Matt added. “You ought to see her daughter.”
“What daughter?”
“Forget it, little brother. I saw her first.”
“Let’s go outside, Laurel,” Jud said quickly. “There’s food and a band. I can keep you to myself and protect you from my obnoxious family.” Jud put his hand low on her back and propelled her forward to the sound of Victor Banning laughing.
But Victor wasn’t laughing later, when Laurel spotted him sitting alone in a chair and staring out at the party.
He turned. “Come sit by an old man on his birthday.”
“You look like you’ve had enough of your birthday.”
“That obvious? I’ll have to work on my poker face.”
“I think you’ve had years of perfecting a poker face.”
“Smart cookie. Robyn was a smart cookie, too. These things aren’t the same without her.”
“C
ale’s wife?” When he nodded she said, “You approved of her.”
“She was good for him. Kept the boy focused. Gave the Bannings a little class, kept us in line.”
“I can’t imagine anyone keeping you in line.”
He laughed. “Even me. Matthew is impressed with your company. We talked about it earlier. And your daughter.”
“Annalisa wanted the contract badly. She’s a lot smarter than I am, but young, only twenty-two. I think she feels pressure to prove herself to the contractors on the job.”
“Drive is a good thing.”
“I suppose it is, unless it becomes the be-all and end-all. There are things more important.”
“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “To be successful, you have to make sacrifices, hard choices, be willing to do almost anything to get ahead.” Here was the Victor that Cale told her of all those years ago. Beric too had an obsessive drive. It was hell on earth to live with someone who pushed that hard and wanted success and power more than anything else in the world. Values and family went out the window.
“Here you are.” Jud joined them. “I thought you disappeared on me. We haven’t had a dance.”
“Thanks for humoring an old man,” Victor said, then looked up at Jud. “You can stop scowling at me. She’s all yours.”
“Oh, no she’s not.” Dane almost picked her up and carried her away.
Laurel was still laughing when they reached the dance floor.
“I’m the youngest. I hate feeling left out. Besides, look at how irritated Uncle Jud is. He thinks we’ve been monopolizing you all night. But he won’t admit it.”
“He was fairly stubborn when I knew him years ago.”
“Jud? No.” Dane grinned. “Matt and I have a bet going on how long it will take him to blow.”
“You’re trying to make him mad?”
“Sure. These family events can be deadly dull. We have to put some spice in the night.”
“You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
“You’re probably right. But we Bannings don’t like to acknowledge our own faults, just each other’s. We all can be pretty pigheaded. But I’m the most charming.”
“You know, I think you are.”
“Ah. Too bad. Song’s over.” Dane leaned closer and said, “Watch this as we walk back toward Jud.”
They were probably six feet from Jud when Matthew stepped in between and cut him off “My turn.” He winked at her and pulled her back toward the dancers without looking back.
“You’re terrible.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Just how much is this bet you have going?”
“What bet? I know nothing about a bet.”
“Dane told me.”
“The kid never could keep his mouth shut. A hundred bucks,” Matthew said, grinning. “Two hundred if Jud gets angry enough to challenge Dad to one of their one-on-one games.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Basketball.”
“I know what one-on-one is.”
“Around here it’s an old Banning family tradition of rivalry, superiority, and dirty play.” He spun her around and she laughed. “So how’s Annalisa? You have the same laugh.”
“We do? She went to Catalina with her grandmother for the weekend. She’s been working pretty hard. The big commercial trade show is the end of next week in Chicago. We’ll be ready to start the kitchen configurations afterward.”
“That’s what she said.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think her father embarrassed her the other day.”
“He can do that pretty easily.”
“She didn’t have to worry. I was sold on her the first time I met her. She impressed me.”
“I had no idea she was going to push for acceptance of our bid.”
“What she did was perfectly ethical.” Matthew began moving her in a specific direction, then stopped. “So how do you know my dad?”
“I met him and Jud in Catalina one summer. It was a long time ago.”
He stopped. “Here, Dad. Dance with Laurel. My feet hurt.” He handed her off to Cale, then went off to waylay Jud.
Laurel almost felt sorry for Jud, but he had tricked her into coming, so she didn’t worry much. And she was having a good time. “You have a lovely home here. It’s a great view.”
“I ramble around in it most of the time, with Dane interning and Matthew having his own place. I’ve thought about selling it, but I’m too lazy.”
“I don’t think anyone would call a doctor lazy. I’ve always heard their time isn’t their own. Is medicine everything you thought it would be? Was it worth all the hard work and time?”
“I think it was. I’m a surgeon.”
“I know. Cardiothoracic. I couldn’t believe it when Jud told me what field you’d gone into. It’s really a strange world, Cale. I don’t really talk about it much, but I had valve replacement surgery seven years ago.”
Cale missed a step. “What?”
She nodded. “I had rheumatic fever when I was a toddler. The valve problem didn’t surface until I was forty.”
“Who was the surgeon?”
“Dr. Sussmann at UCLA.”
“He’s good. I know him. Who’s your cardiologist?”
“Karl Collins.”
Cale began laughing then.
“Of course you know him, too. He’s local.”
“I went to school with him. We still play golf a couple of times a month. His wife was good friends with Robyn.”
She could see him close off, like saying her name was sin. She searched for something to say. “Robyn was your wife.”
“Yes. She died a couple of years ago of breast cancer.”
“I’m sorry, Cale.” The comment sounded trite to her ears and she wished she hadn’t said anything. “Your sons are wonderful. Dane is quite the charmer, and a jokester.”
Cale shook his head and laughed. “Now what’s he cooking up?”
“I’m not telling.”
“He keeps everyone on their toes. He always has.”
“He’s very confident, and Matthew is great.” The fact that he had sons was her gift and why she could even be there. One of those justifications you used to balance life. “You should be proud of them both.”
“I am. Most of the credit goes to my wife. The boys were very close with their mother.”
The song ended before she could say anything else, and the band said good night.
“I guess that’s it,” Cale said. They were the last ones on the dance floor. In fact it looked as if everyone had left. Laurel turned just as Jud walked out through the patio doors. He didn’t look very happy when he saw the band packing up.
“Looks like it’s time to call it a night,” Cale said.
“Victor’s seeing the last of them out,” Jud said. “Where are your sons? I’m going to kill them with my bare hands.”
“Hey, Dad! Uncle Jud! Down here!” Dane’s shout came from a distance. Then she heard the repetitive sound of a ball bouncing on the basketball court at the bottom of the property. Matt hit the court lights and it was lit up like a ball field, with Dane in the center shifting the bouncing ball from one hand to the other.
Cale elbowed Jud in the side. “A hundred bucks says Dane wins.” He took off for the court.
“You got it, buddy! Matt will clean up the court with him.” Down on the court, Jud shrugged out of his coat. “Get that ball, Matt! Come on. Don’t be a wuss!”
Dane scored and Cale shouted from the sidelines and clapped his hands. “That’s it, son! Keep your rhythm going!”
Jud paced like a caged cat. “Matthew. Damn. Are you gonna let your little brother beat you?”
“Shut up, Jud,” Matt called back, then stole the ball and pitched it high, right into the net.
“All right! That’s the way!” Jud whistled so loudly Laurel winced.
“Go, Dane! Get ’em! It’s your ball!”
Dane scored the next two poi
nts and his father shouted, “Whoa! That’s my son!”
Matt stopped, tucked the basketball under his arm, and looked at his dad. “Last time I looked I was your son, too. Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Don’t take it personally. I have a hundred bucks riding on this game.” Cale cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, “Clean his clock, Dane!”
Victor walked up to Laurel, watched for a minute, then asked, “Who’s losing?”
“Jud and Cale,” she said dryly. An older man they’d introduced as Harlan brought some folding chairs and they sat down.
Jud was shouting and running along with Matthew. “Get loose! You’re too stiff. He’s got the ball. Dammit! Stop him, Matt! Are you listening to me?”
The ball sliced though the basket.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Jud punched the air and twisted around.
Cale crowed and punched Jud in the arm. “You’re going to lose.”
Jud loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, then he rolled up his sleeves and bent down, hands on his knees. “Okay. You can do it, Mattie boy. Let’s go!”
“Here he comes, Dane!” Cale shook his hand in the air. “Look out! Stay with him! Stay with him!”
Matt scored and Jud whistled even more loudly.
“You can do better than that, son. What’s wrong with you!” Cale called out to Dane. “You took your eye off the ball!”
It looked as if both Matt and Dane were getting more frustrated with Jud and Cale than with each other. Laurel turned to Victor. “Is this normal?”
“No. They’re calmer tonight than usual. Probably because you’re here.”
From what Laurel could tell, neither brother remembered she was there.
It was wild, an uncontrolled man-eat-man competition that went on until Jud called Matt a pussy. Matt turned, red-faced, and threw the ball at his uncle’s head.
Jud ducked. “Damn . . . hit him”—he pointed to Cale—“not me. I’m on your side!”
“Like hell. You get out here and play if you know so goddamn much.” Matt was disgusted.