Somewhere in it all, she met Josh, who was very much like his father, warm, definitely a Delaney, a handsome fellow with a continual dry grin that seemed to take in all life. Josh seemed amused and pleased to see her, and once she had spoken with him, she thought that she remembered him—vaguely. Kaitlin came purposely to find her, introducing herself, though reminding Kit they knew one another. “Actually, I was your baby-sitter now and then,” Kaitlin said. “I was in my teens when I started working here, then on my way through college for a business degree. Seamus helped me out a great deal.”
Kit assured her that she remembered her, and she did, but very vaguely. She wondered what the woman might have been like then, because she was quite incredible now—a platinum blond with immense, seductive dark eyes and a way about her that was sheerly elegant and sensual, almost as if she were a cat, toying with most people, sleek and ready to pounce when the right moment came. Though Kaitlin’s words to her were pleasant enough, and she smiled a lot, as if truly welcoming Kit, there was an edge about her. As if beneath it all, she resented Kit and her marriage.
Shelley rescued her from hearing the entire history of how the flamingo came to be in Florida, introducing her to her brother, Eli. He was a tall guy with dark auburn hair as well, a smattering of freckles, and a pleasant smile, and her father, Martin, from whom the red hair, hazel eyes, and freckles apparently came. Both seemed far more laid-back and real than most of the people at the party. Martin, especially, was funny, and took the time to tell her how sorry he was about her father, just how much she looked like her mother, and how beautiful Marina had been.
Talking to him, she again felt a faint stir of memory and nostalgia. He seemed exceptionally nice, a great father figure.
It was as she was standing with them that she heard her name called in a deep, husky voice, filled with a trembling emotion.
She turned. She knew instantly that she was coming face-to-face with Seamus Delaney, after her many, many years away.
“Kit…Katherine Delaney. You’ve come home.”
She knew that he was in his late seventies. He moved with the ramrod assurance of a much younger and very powerful man. He was tall and lithe, but his shoulders still showed an imposing breadth. His eyes were bright blue, his head was still well covered with thick white hair.
He resembled her father so much, before the illness had set in, that for a moment, her breath was caught.
But only a moment. He strode through the crowd toward her, paused a moment, his smile deep, and then said, “Welcome.” He wrapped her in his arms as if he were indeed welcoming back a long-cherished and deeply loved child. Still holding her, his eyes alight with a smile, he said, “I cannot tell you how good it is to see you, how wonderful it is to have you here.”
“Thank you,” she said. And she smiled ruefully. “You gave me a bit of a start. You look so much like my father.”
He shook his head. “I was the older—your father looked like me,” he informed her. He studied her for another long moment. “And you, my dear, are the exact image of your mother.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“It’s a compliment, you know,” he said. “Marina was probably the most gorgeous creature to walk the earth.”
As Kit thanked him again, she saw that Lenore had been within hearing distance. She seemed to let out something of a snort, quickly concealed, before she turned away.
Seamus might have noticed because he excused himself to Shelley and her family and set his arm around Kit’s shoulders. “Let’s escape for a minute, shall we? Are you too tired? I think that Shelley’s plan had been an intimate dinner, just her family and ours. Lenore likes everything a bit outrageous, you know. None of us had any idea she had planned…this.”
“It’s fine,” Kit said. “Might as well plunge right in.”
He looked at her sharply. She arched a brow to him.
“Sorry, but you just sounded exactly like your mother, too. So rash, impetuous—and ready to rush in. Do you remember?”
“Well, of course, I remember her. Just not very well,” Kit admitted. “But I didn’t remember a great deal, until I arrived.”
“I’m afraid you’ll remember more and more,” he said with a sigh.
“I already realize that she wasn’t particularly liked by everyone,” Kit told him honestly.
“Let’s go to my library. We’ll talk there.”
They entered the main house through one of the oversize sets of French doors that led out to the patio. They came through a massive family entertainment area with a mammoth television screen set amid a cabinet filled with electronic devices. The back room crossed through to a hallway. Kit saw a formal dining room and kitchen and breakfast nook to the left, and a living room to the right, just to the side of the stairway. They mounted the stairway to the second level.
“My suite is this way,” he said, directing her to the right.
His door opened into a masculine office with a fine desk made of what he told her was Dade County pine. Windows opened to the rear; they could see the party going on below. Upholstered leather chairs sat in front of a fireplace—lots of the old places had them, even in Florida, he told her. It could go into the thirties—if only for a few days—in winter, and once, just like in the rest of the country, a fireplace had provided heat.
They sat in the chairs that faced the unlit hearth. “Jealous!” Seamus told her.
“Pardon?”
“If any of the old bats hated your mother, it’s because they were jealous,” he said.
She had to smile. “Oh.”
He shook his head, somehow lost in memory himself. “She was too impetuous, I’ll tell you that.” A deep sigh trembled through him. “Confident and reckless. The night she died…she was angry with everyone, I think, and so she walked out to the lagoon, and plunged into the water.”
“You don’t think that she—that she tried to kill herself?” Kit said.
Seamus shook his head emphatically. “Marina Delaney? Never! She could swim like a fish, and she was prone to popping out into the water at any hour of the day or night.” He arched a brow. “You still swim, don’t you? When your father left here, he was heartsick, hated the ocean, the water, even the sun and the moon, I think.”
“My Dad was the most incredible man on earth,” Kit said, her pride and affection mingling with the pain of loss. “He taught me everything he thought important. I was on my high school swim team. I never saw him in the water, but he never stopped me.”
“Good, good. The water is part of life down here. Of our lives, anyway. We build boats, you know. Some of the best in the country. Sea Life racers enter almost every important event across the country.”
“So I understand. And Michael, your son, designs them?”
“Some. I still design myself. And Josh…Josh is showing a real talent. Michael doesn’t want to do anything but live out his dream—taking off on one of the sailing vessels and cruising the Caribbean endlessly. Your husband is the one with the real nose for business, you know. There were times when, I admit, in the last years, we might have lost the whole shebang. Your fellow kept us afloat. But there must be something about the place—maybe in the water!” he said with a wink. “David has his camera out all the time. He has a real artistry with it. And you—I’ve seen your strips, of course. I’ve followed them since you started.”
“Why didn’t you ever…why did I go all these years without hearing from anyone here? I know that the pain of my mother’s loss sent my father away, but…”
“When Mark left here, he was running, yes. And he didn’t want to be reminded of Marina or anyone or anything here. I understood that. And later, when I thought he might relent, I wrote to him. He said that he could never bear to come back here, and that life was good in Chicago.”
Kit nodded. She was startled to feel a bit of resentment. She understood her father’s pain. After all, she had been a child suddenly bereft of a mother. But still, her heritage was here…and he had k
ept her from it.
“You’re here now!” Seamus said, still eyeing her as if the most incredible treasure had been set before him. It was a pleasant feeling.
“Come, I’ll show you something.”
Seamus rose suddenly. She followed.
They went back into the hallway. He pointed to the door to Kaitlin’s office. She had a little bungalow down by the lagoon, but there was a futon, full bath, and even a little kitchenette in her office, just for those nights when business became too hectic. “Sometimes, we’re up all night because we deal with customers all over the world,” Seamus said.
Then he opened a door to the left.
There was a scent of jasmine on the air. Subtle, below the surface, but there. A silvery white negligee was lying over the bed. Along with the scent of jasmine, there was something a little musty. Windows opened to the rear of the house, and the curtains drifted inward on the breeze, which carried with it the faint sound of conversation and music below.
“This was your folks’ room. I never changed it. I never allowed anyone in it. I’ve spent all these years thinking that one day Mark would come back, and I’d have everything just as it was. Then he could go through your mother’s belongings, and his own. Find some sweet nostalgia, and maybe even ease his heart.” He paused for a moment, and in that time, he suddenly looked very old. “Feel free to come here, whenever you like. Actually, the house is yours, the run of it, anytime. I wish that your husband liked the main house, but he doesn’t. Your luggage has already been taken to his place. It’s the cottage closest to the water on the dock side of the lagoon.” He looked at her, studying her again. “I hope, however, that to humor an old man, you’ll spend a lot of time here, with me. There’s a lot of family history here.”
“Of course,” Kit told him. She hesitated then, and walked into the room, fascinated. This was where they had lived together, her parents. She had a vague memory of running into the room, bouncing onto the foot of the bed, and throwing herself into their arms. For a moment, she remembered her mother clearly. Laughing, scooping Kit up close to her, and hugging her tightly. She felt a sweet elation, certain that, whatever her mother’s faults might have been, Marina Delaney had loved her daughter.
Kit tentatively walked to the open doors overlooking the porch, and the party. Lenore had invited at least a hundred people. They milled everywhere.
The view from here was excellent. She could see the lagoon, the dock, the wooden jetty. The pool was off to the left side of the house. The bungalows and cottages dotted the banks of the lagoon. She saw Shelley with a group of young people, eschewing a fancy glass and drinking her beer from the bottle. Eli and Martin Callahan were deep in discussion with Josh.
And David…
She searched the crowd and saw him deep in conversation with Kaitlin. The beautiful blond had her hand on his shoulder in a proprietary manner that brought a little shudder to Kit’s heart. What was Kaitlin now? About forty? And David was thirty-seven.
Impulsive…
Marina had been impulsive.
And she was like her mother. Strange, the way that she had fallen head over heels for David, never questioning his past.
She was suddenly certain that at one time, in some way, David had been involved with Kaitlin.
She was still staring out at the scene below when Lenore found them.
“What on earth are you two doing up here? Seamus, I want Kit to meet Lara Kinney, who sponsors the theater. She’s very important, dear.”
Seamus nodded, offering Kit a secret smile and widening his eyes slightly with amusement. “You must go meet the very rich and famous,” he told her. He winked. “They buy newspapers and sometimes, I believe, even read comic strips.”
“Seamus, you’re acting as if we’re snobby and catty, and we’re not, not at all. We like to contribute to the community, and you’re the one who taught me that, father-in-law dear!” Lenore said. Her voice was light, filled with affection. Kit thought it sounded false.
But she smiled to herself and accompanied Lenore downstairs, and smiled her way pleasantly through all the introductions. She had just met the head of the opera guild and listened to a long bemoaning of the lack of real supporters for the ultimate art when David slipped his arm around her. “Jean! Great to see you, I’m so glad that you could come. I see that you’ve met Kit. Will you excuse us? Seamus wants Kit to meet a racing friend.”
Kit murmured something appropriate; Jean of the opera sadly watched them move on.
“Who am I meeting?” Kit asked.
“No one—we’re escaping,” he told her with a grin.
He moved faster and faster, leading her through the crowd, and then down a path that led to some dense foliage.
By then, it was growing dark. Kit laughed. “Where are we going?”
“Back way—to our own home!” he told her.
A few minutes later, they were bursting through pines and crotons to a tiled and pillared porch, then through glass doors to a high-ceilinged rec room, complete with billiards and an entertainment center compatible to that in the main house. Ship models handsomely adorned panelled walls. Collector pieces, old swords, antique guns, African and Caribbean art were displayed on various shelves. Kit stopped dead still for a moment, looking around, realizing that the items actually represented a world she didn’t share with her husband.
A meow and a brush of fur against her leg suddenly reminded Kit that she had brought a piece of her own home with her.
“Whitney!” she cried, and scooped him up. He purred happily. “Poor thing. The flight was traumatic, I think.”
David took the cat from her. “Believe me, Lenore hires the most efficient help in the state. He’s been fed and watered, and I’m sure he’s making himself quite happy here. Actually, too bad we don’t live in the main house. Both Lenore and Kaitlin hate cats.”
“David, that’s mean!”
“To the cat or the two witches?”
She laughed. “You don’t like them very much, huh?”
He shrugged. “They’re like family—I guess. Therefore, I get to call them witches. Or worse.”
He set the cat down.
“Question,” he said, moving close to her. “Want to see more of my place first—or of me?”
She smiled slowly. “Hmm.”
“Well?” he persisted.
“Question.”
“Yes?”
“Does that mean you’re eager to see more of me, now that we’re alone?” she demanded.
“You bet.”
She laughed softly, curling her arms around his neck.
He’d carried her over the threshold of their over-the-top hotel room in Vegas. Now he swept her up again, dramatically romantic. Her foot banged against the wall as he walked up the steps.
“Ouch!”
“Well, that kind of ruined the moment, didn’t it?” he inquired dryly. “Maybe not…we’ll reach my room—our room—and start with the foot.”
“Kinky.”
“The foot is attached to the ankle.”
“Ankle fetish. Great.”
“Is attached to the calf. Calf to the knee, knee to the thigh…when we get there,” he drawled lazily, “I’ll explain completely just what’s attached to what.”
He did just that. Touch, kiss, and caress her, from her feet, to her ankle, calf, knee, and thigh on up. Kit found herself amazed again at the extent of urgent passion he could arouse in her, and the euphoria that followed. Then laughter as well, and talk, and making love all over again.
They never said goodbye to the many guests at the party. It was into the wee hours of the morning when she finally explored her new home, and with it, learned much about her husband, his love for the sea, and his photographs.
They stayed awake to admire the sunrise, an event she could watch every morning from bed.
Her life, it seemed, was too good to be true. Yet for her first several weeks at Bougainvillea, it stayed the same.
David showed
her Sea Life’s construction facilities in Coconut Grove, and she met his friends and the many people employed by Sea Life. She lunched with him, Josh and Michael, at the little marina café where apparently they went almost daily at noon. Lenore brought her around town, showing her theaters, galleries and a zillion shops where the Delaneys were esteemed clients. Kaitlin gave her lists of the places they used for home services, and showed her some of the local boutiques she thought Kit should know.
On one of those occasions, Kit was startled to realize that Kaitlin definitely bore her own memories of the past, and they certainly weren’t all good.
It was a Wednesday afternoon and they had gone down to Cocowalk to shop. Kit was trying on a halter dress in a blue flowered pattern and came out of the dressing room to ask Kaitlin’s opinion.
She was startled by the way the woman stared at her.
“What is it?”
Kaitlin shook her head. “I really don’t like it. Not at all.”
Frowning, Kit turned to look in the mirror. She loved the color. And she loved the dress. It seemed to enhance her figure, and bring out the depths of her eyes. She really believed that David would love it.
Kit turned to Kaitlin. “What’s wrong with it?” she asked carefully.
“It’s just wrong, all wrong,” Kaitlin told her.
“But—”
“If you must know, it makes you look too much like Marina. And that doesn’t make us all feel comfortable, I’m sorry to say!”
Angry, Kaitlin walked out of the shop. Kit watched her go, then quickly changed. In spite of Kaitlin, she bought the dress. She’d make sure she wore it when she and David went out, and not around Bougainvillea.
Kaitlin was quiet all the way home. Kit tried to tell herself she was imagining the waves of pure hostility that seemed to roll off of her.
“Kaitlin,” Kit told her, as they returned to the compound. “You know, you’re definitely not obligated to be in my company.”
Kaitlin stared at her, startled that she had been so transparent. Then she looked ahead, over the steering wheel. “Sorry. Honestly.” She stared at Kit again. “In truth, there is a lot of resentment going on. Did I want you here? No. But you are here. So…we need to get along.”
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