by Jan Hudson
“You jerk!” She shoved him in the pool.
Laughing at the shocked look on his face, she dived in and swam underwater to the far side. When she came up for air, Kale’s head popped up beside her.
“What was that all about?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about all the complaints the station had received about the weather report? Why didn’t you tell me there was a problem? It’s not as if we haven’t been together eighteen or twenty hours a day every day for the past two weeks.”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Upset me?” She rolled her eyes and looked heavenward. “Kale Hoaglin, are you ever going to learn to stop underestimating me?” She put both hands on his head and shoved him underwater, putting her whole weight behind her action, then took off with a fast crawl to the ladder.
He grabbed her ankle while her foot was on the first rung. “Dammit, Sunny, come back here. You’re acting crazy. Are you mad at me?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
He trapped her against the ladder. “Honey, let’s talk.”
“So now you want to talk.”
“Love, if there was any other way to straighten things out so that you wouldn’t have been disappointed, I would have done it. Don’t you know that? You’re a victim of your own popularity. There is simply no other solution.”
“Oh, but there is.” She told him about the experiment that she and Roland had tried on the ten o’clock news.
She kept her fingers crossed while he seemed to mull over the concept. Finally he nodded. “Creative idea. I think it’ll work. This way everybody will be happy.”
“Of course. If you’d only explained the situation to me a week ago, you could have saved everyone a lot of grief. You don’t trust me, do you?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “It’s that I love you so damned much that I want to shield you from unpleasantness.”
Her heart flew to her throat. Of the words he’d said, only “I love you” had registered. She drew back and looked at him, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming. “You love me?”
“Sure I love you. Why else do you think I’d keep making a damned fool of myself?”
“I just thought it came naturally.”
He laughed and kissed her. Her arms tightened around his neck and her tongue met the warmth of his. As always, his smoldering kisses, the aura of his nearness charged her blood, made her want to lose herself in him.
She arched her back and rubbed her breasts against his chest, loving the feel of bare skin and gently lapping water.
“God, you feel good,” he said.
“My thoughts exactly.”
He kissed her nose, her chin, her ear. “We’re going to have to move to the shallow end,” he murmured. “I can’t do what I want to and hold on to this ladder. If I let go, we’ll drown.”
She laughed. “And you’d better take off your pants.”
He nipped her earlobe. “That too.”
* * *
Just before dawn, Sunny awakened. For a moment she lay still in the warm solace of Kale’s arms, listening to him breathe, registering the subtle male scent that was his alone, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her hand. After so few hours in bed, she should have snuggled back down in her comfortable nest and gone to sleep again.
But sleep eluded her.
Moving slowly and trying not to disturb Kale, she slipped from the bed, walked through the connecting bath, and picked up a robe in her bedroom.
When the robe was belted, she drew back the curtains of the front window and looked out over the bay. The first rays of the rising sun painted the wave tips gold as they rippled toward the bulkhead across Ocean Drive. It was an exquisite site, a placid scene, reminding her of the surety and continuity of life. Ordinarily, watching the sun rise and the waves roll in exhilarated her as she captured the rejuvenating spirit. But now she felt only a vague sadness.
Her feeling was stupid, she told herself. Kale loved her. And even though she hadn’t returned his words, she loved him. She should be deliriously happy.
Then why did she feel melancholy?
And the swirl in her solar plexus, was it a weather signal or was it a building anxiety about the future? Or both? She’d blithely vowed that she wasn’t going to worry about the reality that her and Kale’s paths must diverge. But that was before.
* * *
Kale woke with a start and felt for Sunny. When he found her missing, a momentary panic flashed over him. He’d grown so accustomed to having her beside him that he felt as if a part of him were missing. He threw off the covers and went to look for her.
The tension in his body ebbed when he spotted her standing by her bedroom window. He went to her, put his arms around her waist, and laid his cheek against her temple. “Why are you up so early?”
“Just watching the sunrise and thinking.”
“About anything profound?”
“About storms brewing. About you. And me. And what’s to become of us.”
Kale knew that he shouldn’t have told her that he loved her, but the words had simply slipped out of his mouth, and he couldn’t take them back. Besides, dammit, he did love her. The thought of leaving her was like a stake in his heart.
“What do you want to become of us?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She stroked his arm and sighed. “I wish sometimes that you weren’t leaving in a few weeks for Timbuktu or wherever.”
“Honey, it’s my job.”
“I understand. And I realize that we’re going in two different directions. But still, I’ll miss you.”
A gut-wrenching pain grabbed him, and his arms tightened around her. “It’s not as if I’ll never see you again. I have leave between assignments, and—”
She turned and put her fingers to his lips. “Let’s not think about the future and storms. Let’s enjoy the moment.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t quite match her usual one. Her dimples deepened, but her eyes didn’t flash with their normal sparkle. “We still have several of Ravinia’s tiles yet to try as part of my education,” she said, laughing.
Her laughter seemed forced, bittersweet. He ached to lighten her mood and boost his own spirits, but he couldn’t think of a damned thing to do or say.
Finally he kissed her and lifted her into his arms. “How ‘bout we try something on the third row from the bottom?”
Chapter Nine
“Thank you, Roland.” She smiled into Camera One. “Sunny says that I agree with your forecast of beautiful weather for the weekend. A little windy, but great for sailing and kite flying. I would caution that we should keep an eye on tropical storm Chloe that Roland has been tracking for you for the past several days. I have a feeling that Chloe is no gentle lady. She started as a disturbance off Cape Verde, but look for her to intensify into a hurricane after she moves into the Caribbean on Sunday.”
After a commercial break and the final news story of the Friday evening broadcast, the team signed off.
When the floor director signaled that they were off the air, Sunny glanced over to see Kale standing out of camera range at the edge of the set. His brows were drawn together in what she had come to call his “semi-scowl.” She got up and walked over to him.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“Were you serious about that hurricane business?”
“Of course I was serious. I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”
He looked as if he were about to say something, then hesitated.
“Something bothering you?”
“No, no, I was only trying to figure out where we could go for dinner tonight. What sounds good?”
“Maybe we could send out for pizza. I’d like to take a final look at the tape for the special.”
He smiled. “Sweetheart, given how hard we’ve worked on it, that tape is as slick as it’s ever going to get. Relax. You’re as nervous as a stage mother at her chil
d’s first recital. Let’s walk over to the Lighthouse for some oysters.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You know what they say about oysters, don’t you?”
He chuckled and took her hand. “Yep, and I’ve got to keep up my strength.”
A few minutes later, they crossed the wide boulevard that was Shoreline Drive and walked down the T-Head that extended out into the bay. The Lighthouse, a restaurant that sat at the end of the T, was one of her favorite places. The view from the upstairs dining room, with its circular wall of glass windows and doors, allowed them to watch the boats breezing past, their billowed sails as colorful as tropical parrots.
They were seated in a quiet area, and Kale ordered a dozen raw oysters. Sunny wrinkled her nose and ordered a shrimp cocktail. “I don’t see how you can eat those slimy things,” she said.
“It’s one of the sacrifices I make for love.”
She laughed. “Baloney. Your virility doesn’t need a boost.”
“Keep you worn out, do I?” When she didn’tanswer, he lifted her chin with his finger. “Are you blushing?”
“Certainly not.” She busied herself spreading her napkin on her lap. “Do you really think the gang special is good?”
“I think it’s excellent. And as much as I hate to admit it, the footage on the cemetery fight and the shots of the arrests were the perfect climax. I predict that after it airs Monday night, you’ll be the toast of the town.”
“Aren’t you laying it on a little thick?”
“It’s good, honey,” he said. “Really good. You’ve interviewed school officials, a developmental psychologist, a sociologist, and a member of the police department’s task force on gangs, as well as the kids themselves. You’ve presented a well-balanced program explaining that these kids band together out of a need for belonging, a normal behavior except that they choose a destructive method to fulfill their needs. You’ve shown the negative consequences of their behavior and have made a provocative statement. I wouldn’t be surprised if you won a community-affairs award with it.”
“Mostly thanks to you. Besides all the story help and editing tips, you’re a superb cameraman. How did you learn to be so good at filming?”
“Basically from Pete Fisher here in Corpus. He was the best there was. When I spent summers here as a teenager, I trailed after him and nearly drove him crazy with my questions, but I learned. And in some of the field assignments I’ve had overseas, I often had to be both cameraman and reporter.”
“Have you missed being on the other side of the camera?”
“Missed it?” He looked pensive for a moment.
“You know, I haven’t. And that surprises me. I suppose I’ve been too busy with other things to miss it.”
A waiter brought their food, and their conversation turned to other matters.
After dinner, they walked along the seawall, avoiding roller skaters and pausing to explore one of the thick-walled octagonal Miradores—or the “white gazebo thing,” as Kale called it.
“We’d better enjoy the relative quiet while we can,” she said. “The weekend after this is when the big festival is scheduled. Tourists will be so thick around here that you won’t be able to stir them with a stick.”
“A big deal, huh?”
“Very. Tents will be all along Bayfront Plaza by the museums, selling arts and crafts and everything under the sun. There will be music and dancing and magic shows and plays, booths selling beer and cold drinks and every kind of food you can imagine. During the days there’ll be a regatta and an ‘Anything That Will Float but a Boat’ race—that’s always a hoot—and at night there are splendid fireworks.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It is. Will you buy me cotton candy at the festival?”
“Sure. I’ll even throw in a hot dog and some beer.”
Sunny leaned against the pink marble atop the balustrade and gazed out over the water. “I love Corpus,” she said, holding her face to the breeze. “Some people call it the Texas Riviera. Have you ever been there? To the real Riviera, I mean.”
He nodded.
“I’ve never been much of anywhere exotic. Was it beautiful?”
“It was okay, I guess.”
“Do they really have nude beaches?”
“I never noticed.”
“Liar.” She laughed. “Where’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever been?”
“Right here. Right now. With you.” He rubbed the back of his index finger along the curve of her cheek.
She turned her head and nipped his finger playfully. “Well said. But I mean a place besides here. Another country.”
He rested his forearms next to hers on the railing. “Oh, I don’t know. Scotland in the summer, maybe. Or Greece. I suppose Greece is my favorite place in Europe. I think you’d like it. Maybe we can go there sometime.”
“Oh, sure.” A lump rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down and laughed to cover the sorrowful emotion welling up inside her. “Look! Windsurfers.” She pointed to a distant pair riding the surface of the water. “In many ways, I’ll hate to leave Corpus Christi and the bay area.”
She felt his arm tense. “Where are you going?” he asked sharply.
“Nowhere immediately, but I hope it won’t be too long until I find a spot in a more visible market. Eventually I’d like to go to Washington. I’ve always been fascinated by national politics. I graduated magna cum laude with a double major in communications and political science. I’m not simply a Twinkie, you know.”
“A Twinkie? You mean one of those bubble-heads who reads the news and smiles a lot to cover her incompetence?”
“Right.”
“I never thought you were.”
She looked askance at him. “Your nose is growing.” He had the good manners to look sheepish. She laughed and hooked her arm in his. “Come on, Pinocchio, I have to get back to work.”
When they reached the door of the Parrish Building, Kale asked, “What would you like to do this weekend? I think I could talk Foster into loaning us his sailboat if you’re interested.”
She thought for a moment. “That might be nice for Sunday, but do you know what I’d like to do tomorrow? Go kite flying. I haven’t done that in years, and it looks like such fun. Maybe we could rent a four-wheel drive and go way down Padre Island.”
“Your wish is my command.” He gave her a brief kiss. “I’ll see you at home at ten-thirty-five. I’ll have your slippers and a martini waiting.”
“But I hate martinis.”
He waggled his hand. “A brandy, then. Whatever.”
He kissed her again. It was meant to be a quick kiss, but she could feel his lips change beneath hers. His mouth became hungry, urgent, almost desperate. When he finally released her, there was an odd, troubled look in his eyes.
* * *
As Kale drove down Shoreline Drive until it turned to Ocean Drive, parts of his conversation with Sunny replayed in his head, troubling him, seriously troubling him. He’d never really loved anyone before, not the deep kind of love he felt for Sunny. And he’d been so wrapped up in loving her, delighting in her, that he’d refused to think about the future. Now it was time for him to get his head out of the sand and consider the situation because, for damn sure, he intended for them to be together. He wasn’t about to let her go tooling off into the sunset by herself. Who would look after her?
He loved her. She’d brought sunshine back into his life, filled a dark hole he hadn’t even realized was there. He couldn’t imagine returning to some godforsaken spot on the globe alone. The thought of being without her sent cold chills over him.
Parking in the driveway, he walked around to the swimming pool and stared at the water. He could almost hear her laughter lilting across the blue expanse.
He’d think of something. He had to.
* * *
His was black with a red-eyed golden dragon and a long black tail; hers was yellow with a happy-faced orange sun and a yellow streamer. “Mine is better
than yours,” Sunny shrieked.
“That sissy thing? It is not.”
“It is too. It’s a hundred feet higher.”
“A hundred feet?” Kale gave her an oblique glance. “You have a serious distance-perception problem.” He let out the string on his kite, and it soared higher, well beyond Sunny’s. “How about them apples, Miss Smarty-Pants?”
“That’s not fair. You’re bigger than I am.”
Kale laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
She screwed up her face. “I don’t know, but I’m thinking.” She ran along the beach, twisting the cord holder in her hand, trying to make her kite do something fancy, but it merely hovered high over the dunes, held aloft by the brisk breeze from the Gulf off Padre Island.
At Sunny’s insistence, they had driven over thirty miles from Malaquite Beach, down the long, skinny island. The whirling in her solar plexus and the ripples down her spine had become stronger and stronger as they drove. Since Kale had seemed to be growing impatient to stop and try out their kites, she’d finally suggested that they pull over, declaring this the perfect spot. It hadn’t really been her destination.
She shaded her eyes and looked southward. Her sense of distance wasn’t as lousy as Kale thought. She estimated the target to be about another fifteen or twenty miles.
Gazing over the beautiful dunes that stood like sentinels along the coast, she watched a clump of sea oats ripple with the wind and a gray gull wheel and ride the currents. Sandpipers scampered along the water’s edge, poking the sand with their long bills, hunting a meal. She felt sad, wondering if they would survive. She sighed. Even so, better here than centered in a more populated area. It was going to be bad enough as it was.
She let the kite string slip through her fingers.
“Sunny!” Kale made a grab for the weighted end of the cord, capturing it as it skittered along the sand.
“Whoops,” she said, trying to make light of it.
“Honey, is something wrong? You look about a million miles away.”
“No, only about fifteen.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”