To her surprise, Eva felt her throat tighten. They appeared to be such a happy family. What a tragedy for both Mark and Sasha to have lost Diane. But as she gazed around the room again, she got an eerie feeling that, somehow, Diane was still here.
“Time to open your gifts, birthday girl!”
April’s strident voice broke into Eva’s thoughts. She gobbled the last bite of cake and returned to her seat.
Sasha perched on the sofa, the children clustered at her feet. April gathered the presents from the dining-room table and brought them to Sasha. With its glittery paper and huge bow, Eva’s gift was easy for her to spot.
April sat beside Sasha and handed her a bulky package. “Open mine first.”
Sasha tore off the paper to reveal a backpack decorated with the picture of a cartoon rabbit. “Ohhhh.”
“Look inside,” April said.
Sasha opened the pack and pulled out two children’s books.
“You’ll soon be able to read them,” April said.
“I already know my ABC’s and some words.” Sasha gazed at the books’ covers then put them down and reached to give April a hug. “Thank you, April.”
“You’re welcome, honey.” April hugged her back.
Sasha continued opening her gifts, accompanied by oohs and aahs from her audience. A board game, a jump rope, a mechanical dog that sat up and begged for a plastic bone. Finally, April handed over Eva’s gift.
Sasha tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box. A navy blue patent leather purse was on top. She held up the purse, her eyes shining. “It’s bea-u-ti-ful!” She put it down and pulled out a long-sleeved navy-blue-and-white striped top, blue leggings, a navy blue skirt and, finally, a matching jacket. Her eyes rounded to saucers. “Wow.”
“I thought you might like something new for school,” Eva said, pleased with Sasha’s reaction to her gift.
April wrinkled her nose. “Too fancy for school.”
Eva didn’t know from experience what girls Sasha’s age were wearing to school, but she felt compelled to defend her choice. “The outfit was part of a back-to-school display at Macy’s in Seattle.”
“Oh, of course, Seattle.” April’s voice was cold.
Sasha looked up at Mark, who watched from the doorway. “Can I wear it to school, Daddy?”
Mark cleared his throat. “Why, sure,” he finally said. “If that’s what you want.”
“I want to put on the jacket now.”
Eva sat on Sasha’s other side and helped her to slip into the jacket. As she’d hoped, it fit perfectly.
Sasha smoothed the fabric with one hand. “It feels soft,” she said, then leaned to Eva. “Thank you.”
Eva put her arms around Sasha. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Tears suddenly misted Eva’s eyes. What was that all about? She kept her gaze lowered until she’d blinked them away.
Mark stepped farther into the room and beckoned to the group. “Come on outside, everyone, and see my gift to Sasha.”
Eva helped Sasha out of the jacket, then she folded it and returned it to the box. With the children chattering excitedly, they all trooped through the kitchen and out the back door. The fenced backyard was a child’s dream, with a large playhouse, a swing and slide set, and a sandbox. In one corner sat a trampoline with a big red bow tied around one post.
“Daddy, you got it!” Sasha ran to give him a hug, and then, with the other children close on her heels, she scampered to the trampoline.
Mark cupped his hands around his mouth. “Only three on the trampoline at one time,” he called after them. He hurried over to make sure the children followed his directions. While April dogged his heels, Eva watched from the kitchen doorway.
Sasha and two other children began jumping. The remainder of the guests watched for a while, then headed for the swings and slide. Two of the children’s mothers and one father arrived. Along with Eileen, who’d finished tidying up the gifts and discarded wrappings, they joined Mark and April. Laughter and chatter filled the backyard.
Something akin to envy crept over Eva. She always felt out of place in a group of parents and children. They all had something in common, whereas she was the outsider. April wasn’t an official parent, but she might as well be. Why didn’t Mark marry her? Her feelings for him were obvious. Eva decided to leave but not without thanking her hosts. She managed to catch Mark’s eye. She waved, and he broke from the group and trotted over.
“I need to leave,” Eva said, “but I wanted to say thanks for inviting me. Tell Sasha goodbye for me, will you?”
“Okay, but we’re all going to the Pizza Palace. You want to come along?” He slanted her a dubious look.
Eva stepped back. “I, uh, no!” That sounded sharper than she intended. “I mean, no, thank you,” she said in a softer tone. “I really need to get back to my apartment.”
In truth, pizza sounded good, but tagging along with the group would just make her feel more uncomfortable and out of place.
Propping an arm against the doorjamb, he leaned toward her, his face close enough to send a wave of his aftershave in her direction.
“Sure I can’t talk you into coming? What’s the matter? Don’t you like pizza?”
She sucked in a breath, knowing she should move away, but her feet were rooted to the spot. The voices and laughter coming from the backyard faded into the distance.
“Sure, I like pizza. But I need to leave. I’ll see you on Monday.”
He frowned and then said, “Right. Monday.”
That should have settled the matter, yet neither made a move. The air thickened. Eva swallowed and licked her dry lips. He leaned closer.
“Mark,” a voice called. “Oh, there you are.” April ran up and pushed between Eva and Mark, forcing them to step back.
Eva jolted to her senses. Mark shook his head, as though to clear it.
“Yeah, April?” Mark’s voice was impatient.
“I took a head count, like you asked me to. There are twelve of us.” She turned to Eva. “Unless you’re coming, too.”
“No, I’m on my way out. Just saying goodbye.” Eva brushed past them and hurried across the kitchen.
“I’ll see you out,” Mark called after her.
“Never mind. I can find my way.”
As she headed for the front door, April’s petulant voice drifted behind her.
“We need to get ready to go, Mark. The Pizza Palace will only hold our tables for fifteen minutes.”
CHAPTER TEN
EVA STARED AT the single sentence at the top of her computer screen. Her total output in the past hour. Needing something to do in the evening after work, she’d begun writing a novel. So far, she had twenty-eight pages. She’d always wanted to write fiction. She’d thought it would be as easy as turning out one of her articles for Seattle’s Best and certainly as easy as writing a piece for the Herald.
“Write what you know” was the accepted wisdom, so she started a story about a woman who’d been forced to take a job she didn’t want. She had no idea where the story was going. So far, it was a very familiar-sounding mishmash of the woman’s complaints.
She rose, made herself another cup of tea and strolled to the window. Outside, twilight dusted the sky a lovely shade of peach. Lovely? When had she used such a word to describe anything in Willow Beach? Yet that was the word that came to mind and the one that fit.
She was still contemplating the sky when she heard a knock on the door. She jumped. Who could that be? Probably her neighbor across the hall, wanting to borrow something. She put down her cup, went to the door and peered through the peephole.
Mark.
She pressed her lips together in exasperation. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be at the Pizza Palace with the others. Furthermore, he’d never come to her apartment before, not once in the two months she’d been here.
She smoothed her hair and straightened her blouse and then realized what she was doing and stopped. She didn’t need to
look good for Mark Townson.
When she unbolted and opened the door, he stood there looking uncertain and cautious.
“Mark. What brings you here?”
“Pizza.” He dipped his head toward the flat box he carried.
She looked at the box and then back up at him. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.”
When he made no move to hand her the box, she realized he was waiting to be invited in. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with him. There was that startling kiss at the picnic to consider, and today, before April interrupted them, they’d come awfully close to something at the birthday party.
But she didn’t want to be rude.
“Want to come in? Or do you need to get home?” Please say you need to go home.
“I can hang out for a while,” he said, stepping over the threshold with no hesitation. “The pizza party’s still going strong, and Eileen’s taking care of Sasha.”
The aroma of melted cheese made her realize how hungry she was. She hadn’t bothered to fix anything to eat since she’d been home, and the cake and ice cream from the party had long worn off.
He crossed the room and set the box on the kitchen counter. “It’s cold now, but you can warm it up.”
“I will. I’m hungry.” Eva opened the box and sniffed the air. “It smells yummy. What all’s on it?”
He looked over her shoulder. “Sausage and mushrooms and olives and lots of other stuff. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered the one they call Kitchen Sink.”
“Do you want to join me?”
He patted his stomach. “I saved room for a piece or two.”
Opening a cupboard, she took out her one glass oven dish. It had a chip in one side, but perhaps he wouldn’t notice. “I’ll make some coffee. Or would you rather have a soda?”
“Coffee’s fine.”
While she cut slices of pizza and slid them into the dish, he strolled to the window. “Great view.”
“It is. I really enjoy the sunsets.”
He turned and raised one eyebrow. “Does that mean you’re beginning to like living here?”
Eva covered the dish with plastic wrap, tucked it into the microwave and set the timer. “No, it’s only a view—it doesn’t work miracles. Besides, I have a view at home. Not of the ocean, of course, but of the city’s skyline and a bit of Elliott Bay.”
She thought he looked disappointed at her answer, but he turned back to the window before she could be sure.
She took out plates and set them on the table, then stepped to the computer, preparing to shut it down. Mark came up behind her, looking over her shoulder at the screensaver and its photo of the Seattle skyline, the Space Needle front and center.
“You’re not bringing work home, are you?” Mark asked.
“No, just checking my email.” That was true. She had checked her email—earlier. But she didn’t want to tell him about her novel. The project was too new, too personal to share with anyone.
When they finally settled at the table, the pizza fairly melted in Eva’s mouth. “This is wonderful.”
Mark nodded. “The Pizza Palace is the best.”
They ate in silence for a couple minutes, then she cast him a sideways glance. “It was thoughtful of you to feed me tonight, but I can’t help feeling something else is on your mind.”
He put down his coffee cup and sat back, his eyes troubled. “You’re right. There is something. It’s about your gift to Sasha….”
The gift. She might have known. “The outfit is too dressy and you want me to take it back.”
He raised a hand and, his tone harsh, said, “No, of course not.” Then, in a softer voice, he added, “Okay, I admit it’s not something I would have picked out.”
“But she would have.”
“Yeah, she would have. She loves it. When you mentioned seeing the clothes at Macy’s, I realized you must’ve bought them when you were in Seattle last weekend. And I felt like a jerk because I gave you such a hard time for missing the store opening.”
Eva helped herself to another slice of pizza. “Yeah, you were a jerk, but that was my assignment and I shouldn’t have forgotten about it.”
He drew back. “A jerk, huh?”
She shrugged. “You said it first.”
“Okay, I won’t argue—this time. Tonight I want to be Mr. Good Guy and thank you for thinking of Sasha and for helping to make her birthday special.”
Mark’s words sent a curious warmth spiraling through Eva. “You’re welcome. I knew that would be the only weekend I had to shop for her present. Susan and I had fun picking out the clothes, and I’m glad Sasha likes them.” Remembering April’s comment, she frowned. “But maybe April’s right and they are too fancy for school.”
“Why don’t we let Sasha decide?”
“Good idea.”
They ate in silence for a couple minutes, and then Mark said, “I thought the feature about the shoe store turned out well. Your interviews were a good contribution.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you paying me a compliment?”
He held up a hand. “Hey, I never said I thought you were a bad writer. I just don’t have much use for what you write about. You do have a knack for interviewing people. You know how to get them to talk.”
“Interviews are what I do for Seattle’s Best. Did,” she corrected, lowering her gaze.
“Well, we turned out a worthy feature.”
“Yes, we did,” she replied, noticing they’d both said we. The word sounded strange and alien, yet kind of nice, too.
“Just a fluke,” Mark said.
“Right. Won’t happen again.”
Mark looked away. “No, of course not.”
After that, conversation died, and they finished their pizza in silence. “More coffee?” she finally asked.
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Well, then, I guess that’s it.” She stacked the plates and carried them to the sink.
He pushed back his chair and stood. “Anything I can do?”
“I don’t think so. This is an easy cleanup.” She set the dishes in the sink, intending to rinse and load them in the dishwasher after he left. Which she hoped would be soon.
She turned to find him standing directly behind her.
“Eva…”
Mark’s voice was low and husky. He reached out as though to draw her to him. She wanted to let him. Oh, yes, she did.
But before he could touch her, she stepped back and folded her arms. “Don’t you have to pick up Sasha now?”
For a moment he looked puzzled, as though he didn’t know what she was talking about. Then he blinked and shook his head. “Sasha…yeah.” He checked his wristwatch. “Time to pick up my little girl.”
“Thanks again for the pizza.”
“You’re welcome.”
He made no move to leave. Eva felt his gaze on her but was afraid to meet his eyes. Afraid she’d fall into his arms and let him kiss her. And then what would happen? Where would it end?
Finally she made her feet move across the room toward the front door. He followed. She opened the door, they said a couple of polite goodbyes and then he was gone.
Eva shut the door, leaned her back against it and whooshed out a breath. She listened to Mark’s footsteps fade away. He was gone at last. What a relief. She rested against the door a few more moments and then wandered back to the kitchen table, where her computer waited. She reached out to open the cover and switch on the machine, but then dropped her hand to her side. No energy left for writing tonight. The encounter with Mark had drained her.
Eva sighed. How had life become so complicated?
*
MARK COULDN’T GET AWAY from Eva’s apartment fast enough; he pushed the speed limit all the way to Eileen’s. Still, he decided he’d made the right decision to leave the pizza party and drive to her apartment. Clearing the air over her gift to Sasha relieved the distress he’d felt since the party.
But if he’d expected to ease all the tension between them, he’d been wrong. Their attraction to each other was as strong as ever. He ached to touch her, even as simple a gesture as placing a hand on her arm.
And then, just before he left this evening, the desire to kiss her almost undid him. He wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t broken the spell.
Later, after he and Sasha had arrived home and they’d stepped inside the house, he looked around at the blue upholstered sofa and chairs, the yellow and green cushions, the artificial plants and the photographs and felt Diane’s presence more than ever. Yes, she had hurt him deeply, but he needed her to be here. For Sasha’s sake, he always told himself. But tonight, he had to admit he needed her for himself, too.
Resisting his attraction to Eva was the right course of action. He didn’t want to risk giving away his heart again, especially not to Eva. Why put him and Sasha through the misery of another ill-fated relationship?
*
EVA PULLED HER CAR into the parking lot at Willow Beach High School. She stepped out and hurried toward the building’s entrance. Today was the back-to-school fashion show she’d agreed to emcee. Together she and Fran Oliver had chosen the clothing from the town’s one shop and from a store in nearby Langston. The outfits weren’t as stylish as those they might have found in Seattle—in Eva’s opinion anyway—but overall, she was pleased with the results.
Once inside the building, she headed for the auditorium’s backstage, where the teenage models had assembled. Chatter and laughter charged the air as the girls spilled in and out of the dressing rooms.
Fran emerged from one of the rooms. She hurried over to Eva, her blond curls bouncing as she walked. Her eyes had a frantic look. “Thank goodness you’re here. Trilly can’t find her wedge heels, and Marla’s having a bad hair day. Help!”
Eva laid a calming hand on Fran’s arm. “Not to worry. Tell Trilly the shoes are on the shelf in dressing room C, and reassure Marla that the ladies from the hair salon should be here any moment.”
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