“What’s this? Aren’t you on duty? I would think that Mrs. Nash needs you to be helping with the guests.” Quinn’s tone took on a nasty edge. “Or do I need to call a counselor?”
Without another word, the girl fled toward the conservatory, wiping at her wet face with a blue sleeve.
“What was that about?” Quinn asked in a tight voice.
“She wanted me to help her leave the grounds. She said that she had to get away. She seemed genuinely distraught.”
“It can’t be surprising to find that many of these youngsters, especially the teens, are restless. Some of them want to find their families, despite the broken situations that brought them here in the first place.”
“Of course. I imagine that few of these kids choose to be in a child custody arrangement. Still, you can’t discount the emotional pain, at that age especially. Remember your teenage years?”
“Excellent point.”
As they strolled back down the hall, Alexa couldn’t help thinking about the girl. Her distress had seemed real. And where would Children of Light be ‘shipping her off’ to? Another foster care placement, probably. Unsettled, Alexa felt Quinn’s harsh tone was uncalled for.
When they reached the spot where the passageways intersected, Alexa turned to Quinn. “Pleasant as it sounds, I think I’m going to pass on that stroll. I’m tired. I’m going find the powder room and call it a day. I’ll see you tomorrow evening?”
“Absolutely.”
Driving home, Alexa couldn’t shake the melancholy mood that enveloped her. She wished that she had been able to help that young girl in some way, short of driving her out of the Nash property. But in their brief encounter, she hadn’t even had a chance to take a stab at consoling the girl. Life in the foster care system must be hard, no matter how good the agency and counselors, Alexa mused. She felt lucky that she’d lived her entire childhood in an intact and loving family.
She’d been a bit taken aback by Quinn’s interaction with the youngster. She still didn’t known him well but had assumed that his participation on the Children of Light Board would have indicated a little more compassion for the foster children in the company’s care.
Chapter Twenty-four
“WHAT WAS I THINKING?” Alexa moaned to Melissa as she ran to check the oven. The rich, cheesy smell of au gratin potatoes enveloped the kitchen when she opened the oven door. “Tomorrow, I leave for my first vacation in over a year, and I decide to host a dinner party tonight.”
Melissa sat at the counter husking ears of corn. “Jim and I can find somewhere else to eat if you want.”
“I’m not talking about you. My God, you’re doing me a huge favor by staying here with my fur ball for almost three weeks. I’m talking about Quinn. We’ve only gone out a few times. He’s never been to the cabin before. Why would I pick tonight to invite him to dinner?”
“Don’t look at me.” Melissa pried a strand of silk from the yellow ear in her hand. Then she looked up at Alexa with an impish smile. “Although I could offer a theory.”
“Really?”
“On this African trip, you’re going to see Reese for the first time in months. You’re not sure whether you want to make a move to reconcile. Plus, he may have no interest in getting back together. In the meantime, you’ve met this good looking new guy. I think you want to take one last look at the back-up plan before you step on that plane.”
“Listen to Dr. Freud. Tonight has nothing to do with Reese. I was in a romantic daze on Monday, and the invitation just sort of slipped out. I want to get to know Quinn better, but the jury’s still out on whether he’s boyfriend material.”
Alexa grabbed a stack of plates from the cupboard and hustled out to the deck to give them to Jim, leaving Melissa with the corn.
With everything prepped, Alexa and Melissa joined Jim and Scout on the deck. A slight breeze kept the mosquitoes and gnats away. Alexa mentally reviewed her final to do list for the next day’s trip while her friends chatted. Jim had volunteered to do the steaks and had already fired up the gas grill. Aware that anything cooked on the grill usually meant a tidbit for him, Scout stuck close to the grill master. They all looked up in unison at the sound of a vehicle coming down the lane.
Quinn drove his pick-up truck, a black model with matching cap covering the bed. Alexa had told him that his fancy vintage car was no match for her bumpy gravel lane. The minute Quinn stopped, Scout ran toward the pick-up growling. Puzzled, Alexa hurried down the steps as the big dog circled the truck, hair standing on end.
“Scout, come here,” Alexa commanded and grabbed his collar.
Quinn eased out of the car and walked toward her and the mastiff. He stopped about two yards away, his hand gripping the neck of wine bottle in his hand like a club. “That dog is enormous. Is he friendly?”
“Usually. Something about your pick-up seems to have set him off.”
“Strange. I ran by my tenant farmer’s house to pick up the rent check before I came here. Maybe I drove through some smelly farm effluvia.”
Jim called to Scout from the deck. “Come here, boy. Watch me grill these steaks and leave that truck alone.” When Alexa released her grip on the mastiff’s collar, he trotted up the steps toward the park ranger.
“Sorry about that. Maybe the sight of my suitcases has Scout on edge.”
“No need to apologize. Here, I’ve brought some wine. From that smell of sizzling beef, it’s good I chose a red.”
“Come and meet my friends.” Alexa led Quinn onto the deck. She was glad that he had dressed down in jeans and a crisp cotton shirt with the cuffs turned back. She and Melissa wore capris and nice tops. Jim had traded his park uniform for khakis and a polo shirt.
“I don’t know if you actually met Melissa Lambert at her opening? Melissa, this is Quinn Hutton.”
“It was pretty crazy that night, but we met briefly at the Nash dinner party.” Melissa stood to shake Quinn’s hand.
“Of course. Your work is compelling.”
“And this is Jim Kline. He’s a park ranger at Pine Grove Furnace State Park.”
Jim nodded from his station by the grill. “Nice to meet you, Hutton. How do you like your steak?”
“Rare is good for me.”
Jim waved a wooden-handled fork in Alexa’s direction. “Hey, these babies should be done in no time. You might want to go in and organize everything else.”
“Sure. Quinn, could you open the wine?”
“My Porsche is a 2009, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. But I’d love to take a spin in your 500K. Those cars are practically legend.” Jim’s enthusiasm was palpable as the dinner conversation continued.
With Quinn and Jim deep in discussion about Le Mans, Alexa rose to clear the table. Melissa pushed her chair back to help, but Alexa waved her off. “No, just sit. I’ll clean this up.” She collected the dirty dishes and took them to the dishwasher.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Alexa concluded that the informal dinner party had been a success. Like a chameleon, Quinn had dialed back his erudite professor persona and assumed a folksy, small-town demeanor this evening. At this point she wouldn’t bat an eyelash if he and Jim dashed out the door to rebuild the truck’s engine. Alexa was happy that Quinn had meshed so well with her friends, but it felt like he was putting on a performance.
Taking some scraps of steak, Alexa stepped outside to give Scout a treat. Surprised that the mastiff wasn’t in his usual spot by the door, she called, “Come, Scout. It’s not everyday that you get porterhouse.”
The only response was a brief yelp from the yard in front of the deck.
Puzzled, Alexa moved to the railing. Scout sat by the parking area, his attention fixed on Quinn’s pick-up.
“What is it with you and the truck? Come and get this steak. It’s your last chance.”
The dog fell out of position and padded onto the deck. Alexa laughed as Scout snuffled each tiny piece of steak into his huge mouth. “Good boy. Now, come into the house and be s
ociable. I won’t see you for weeks.” Alexa held the door open and Scout headed for his water bowl.
Alexa looked at her three guests, still lounging around the dining room table. “Dessert, anyone? Melissa brought an assortment of gourmet cupcakes from Leila’s Cupcake Palace. They look scrumptious.”
Jim called out. “Cupcakes from Leila’s? I have dibs on the Salty Caramel.”
“Coffee or tea, anyone. Or more wine?”
“I’ll have more wine along with one of those Merlot Madness cupcakes.” Melissa poured some wine into her glass as Alexa placed the pink box of cakes in the middle of the table.
“Nothing for me, thanks,” Quinn demurred.
Alexa plucked a cupcake out of the box and peeled away one side of the pink wrapper. Carrot cake was one of her favorites. Before taking a bite, she announced, “Thanks so much for joining us for dinner tonight, Quinn. I’m glad that you’ve met these two. Melissa and Jim, thanks in advance for taking care of Scout while I’m gone. I don’t mean to be rude, but after you finish your cupcakes, I have to call this a night. I’m meeting Mom and Dad at five tomorrow morning for the to drive to Dulles.”
Quinn stood and walked to the door. “Given your schedule, I’ll take my leave now. Thank you for dinner. Alexa, have a wonderful trip. I’ll look forward to your return.”
“Nice to meet you,” Melissa called.
“Like to see that car sometime,” Jim mumbled through a mouthful of cupcake.
Alexa followed Quinn onto the deck. “Drive safely. I’ll see you when I get back?”
“Absolutely.” Quinn reached for her with both hands and gently traced the outline of her face from temples to cheeks. When he reached her chin, he tilted her head back and brought his lips to Alexa’s mouth in a gentle kiss, soft as mist. Without speaking another word, he released her and sauntered to his truck.
Alexa raised her fingers to her lips. They were cool to the touch. Quinn’s kisses didn’t leave her burning with passion. But they had an intriguing allure, like a cool breeze on a summer’s day.
When she walked back inside the house, Melissa shouted, “Africa. You’re going on safari. I am so jealous.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“I CAN’T BELIEVE ALL THE WILDLIFE we saw today.” Alexa took a spoonful of the pumpkin soup that the server had just placed in front of her.
“We knew that you would love the Ngorongoro Crater.” Her father, an old hand at African safaris, sounded nearly as excited as Alexa.
Her mom leaned a bit to the side to avoid the blazing candelabra that blocked her line of sight to Alexa. “The crater gets pretty crowded. You saw that today when we stopped to watch the lions take down the zebra. There must have been eight other vehicles. But the sheer concentration of animals makes coping with the other vehicles worth it.”
“I loved the little lion cubs. I am so glad you talked me into this trip. What’s this? Our fifth day on safari, or is it the sixth? I think I’ve finally stopped squealing at every giraffe and elephant, but I’m loving this whole experience. I can’t believe we’re seeing all these exotic animals up close.”
The Williams family had joined a tour group of nine other Americans. The group had stayed in a tented camp and a lodge on the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater. Now they had arrived at a lovely old coffee plantation, where the staff provided impeccable service.
“I can’t wait until we get to the mobile tented camp.”
“The accommodations will be less luxurious, but your mother and I enjoy being right in the middle of the Serengeti. Last time, we sat right outside our tent and watched a herd of elephants for hours.”
“The tented camp feels very Out of Africa.” Her mom laughed. “Wait until you take a bucket shower.”
Alexa and her mom must have watched Out of Africa together at least twenty times. Alexa tilted her head and studied her father, a mischievous smile on her face. “Dad, I can see you as the dashing Robert Redford—white hunter type. And I can picture Meryl Streep living in this house—before it became a hotel, I mean.
“But, I don’t see any romance under African skies for me this week.” Alexa giggled as she swept her eyes down the long table at the tour group. The only other traveler under sixty was Ellen Descartes’ fourteen-year-old grandson.
“You’ll be seeing Reese soon enough. Who knows what that might bring?”
“We’ll see, Mom. We’ll see.”
The mid-morning sun bathed the vast plain with golden light. Alexa stood on the rear seat of the Toyota Land Cruiser, head and shoulders rising above the roof line, hair streaming behind her. The roof’s retractable panels had been thrown open to the sky. Dry African heat filled her lungs.
Alexa braced her back against the frame for balance as their guide steered the sturdy vehicle over the bumpy track. Yusef hoped to find the pride of lions that frequented a distant kopje of rocks somewhere out on the vast plain. Looking ahead, Alexa could make out only the barest hint of a road; really just two parallel lines through the tall grass.
The Serengeti Plain. Alexa lifted her face to the wind in a burst of pure joy. The Land Cruiser rolled steadily forward, a tiny speck of green sailing on a sea of endless grass and sky. As far as Alexa could see, nothing existed except blue sky and golden plain, tall grasses undulating in the wind. No people, no animals, not even a discernible horizon.
Never had she felt so insignificant. Never had she felt so alive. The overwhelming beauty of this landscape made Alexa’s heart soar at the joy of just being.
“Alexa, are you OK up there?” her mother called.
“Perfect. Couldn’t be better.”
During this safari, she had seen wild animals do what they must to survive. Out here in the African bush, it was kill or be killed. Finally, she accepted that she’d faced a similarly elemental situation when she killed Reverend Browne last fall. As the vehicle rolled on, Alexa let the scorching wind carry away all her guilt, self-recrimination, and despair.
Alexa returned her gaze to the golden Serengeti, knowing that Africa had healed her soul.
Chapter Twenty-six
“THIS PLACE MAKES YOU appreciate the charms of camping, doesn’t it?” Susan Williams settled deeper into her canvas chair and gestured to the herd of elephants grazing in knee-high grass. She had joined Alexa in front of her tent while Norris Williams took a siesta.
“Even though these tents are ground level and the showers are open air, I’d hardly call this your typical camping experience.” Alexa scanned the stand of sausage trees to the left of the tent until she located the source of a loud noise. Several shaggy Colobus monkeys chattered noisily at the elephants. “Don’t you love the coloring on those guys? Like tree skunks. They should call them skunkeys.”
Her mother laughed at Alexa’s lame joke. “What an awful comparison. They don’t have much in common other than their black-and-white coloring. I agree that this tented camp is a step above the camping I used to do in my younger days. But the feel is the same. You take a step outside the canvas flap, and you’re right in the middle of nature.”
“Speaking of your younger days, Mom, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask. When I was up in your attic awhile back looking for binoculars, I came across a photo album labeled Woodstock. I’m pretty sure I recognized Jack Nash in one of the pictures. You two were with a group standing in front of some tents. What’s the story with you and Jack and Woodstock? Were you guys, um . . .” Alexa searched for the right word. “Involved?”
The bitter edge to her mother’s laugh surprised Alexa. “God, no. I never dated Jack or had any type of romantic feelings for the guy. I think I told you this already—he was just part of the group that I went with to Woodstock.”
“Why don’t you ever talk about Woodstock? All my friends used to think it was so cool that my mom went to Woodstock. But, other than the fact that you were there, I don’t think you’ve ever told Graham and me anything about it.”
“You’re probably right. Let’s just say that Woods
tock was a mixed experience for me. I loved the music. It was wonderful to be swept up in the dream that, with love and peace, anything was possible. But a friend died at the festival. Her death cast a pall over the whole experience for me. It’s not something that I like to remember.”
“What happened? An overdose?” Alexa straightened in her seat.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if drugs of some sort were involved. But I don’t want to go into the details.” As Susan continued, she sounded as if she were speaking to herself. She whispered, “I should have kept her safe.”
“Even without knowing exactly what happened, Mom, I can’t imagine that you should hold yourself responsible for your friend’s death. One thing I don’t understand: What’s Jack Nash have to do with this? Why can’t you stand the guy?”
“To be honest, I’m not completely sure. I’ve always had this bad feeling about Jack. I think it’s mainly because I associate him with that difficult time. Everything is hazy in my mind. I suspect Jack and his friend may have given my friend drugs. I just can’t remember.” Susan grasped her forehead with her hand as if she could extract the memory from her temple.
“I’m sorry that I even brought this up, Mom. I had no idea that your trip to Woodstock came with all this baggage.” Alexa looked at her mother in dismay. Susan’s face had become pale, and her eyes brimmed with tears.
“I never smoked another joint or did another drug after Woodstock. That’s why I never drink anything stronger than wine. I’ve always thought that, if my head had been clear, I could have saved her.
“That concert became a turning point for me. I broke up with my boyfriend, stopped hanging out with his crowd at school, and recognized that there was more to life than partying. A year later, I met your dad.”
The alarm clock in Alexa’s tent beeped, and she dashed inside to shut if off. When she emerged from the tent, her mother had risen to her feet.
Dead of Summer Page 14