by Peggy Webb
They stopped in a gift shop and he gallantly presented her with a Mickey Mouse necklace and a pair of earrings to match, assuring her solemnly that this had always “paid great dividends.” Whereupon she made a sound that he called a snigger. She denied it, he insisted, and they were still arguing as they climbed aboard the railway.
When they left it they were arguing about something else in a manner that might kindly be described as “Yah! Sucks! Boo!” Josie chanced to come across them, and declared, enchanted, that she’d heard her father say, “So there!” although he insisted he’d actually said, “Take care,” as Pippa neared a step. Pippa was unable to settle the argument as she was laughing too much to have heard what he said.
The two parties had lunch together. Josie, sporting a necklace and earring set that exactly matched Pippa’s, talked nonstop. She was totally happy, not only with Disneyland, but with her new family, and Pippa’s heart eased.
Afterward they split up again, Josie and entourage heading for Thunder Mountain, and Luke and Pippa for the calmer delights of the steamboat.
As they leaned on the rail watching the water drift past, Luke said suddenly, “Pippa, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“If you could go back and wave a magic wand over the past few years—what would you change?”
Dangerous territory. The sun was so warm and the air so sweet that for a moment she almost admitted, “I would have liked to spend them with you.” But to say that was to put emotional pressure on him, and risk everything she’d gained. Safer to pass it off lightly.
“I might not have wanted to run a guest house,” she mused. “They’re all lovely people, but it’s the culinary equivalent of being exiled to Siberia. I created a new recipe once, a fruit dish with cherries and lemon and a mystery ingredient. I was feeling cross about being ‘exiled’ with all the stodge I had to cook, so I called it Siberian cherries. Josie loved it but everyone else thought I was mad.”
“I wouldn’t have,” he said seriously.
“No, you’d have understood. I could always talk to you about things that meant a lot to me, and you picked it up at once. Other people just looked blank.”
“It was like that for me,” he said, much struck. “We talked the same kind of nonsense and understood the same kind of world, and we were almost telepathic. Do you remember how we used to finish off each other’s sentences?”
“That’s right.” It was coming back to her. “I hated it if anyone else tried to do that, but I didn’t mind with you, because you always got it right.”
“So did you. Always.” He straightened up, alert as though a momentous thought had come to him. “That’s what we really had, wasn’t it? The rest was…icing on the cake.”
“Beautiful icing,” she reminded him with a smile.
“The best. But underneath, we had a perfect cake, too.” He took her hand and looked at it. “Wouldn’t you change anything else?”
“No,” she said after a moment.
“Nothing? Nothing at all?”
“What happened gave me Josie. And she’s perfect. Thank you, Luke. Thank you for Josie. Thank you for everything. I’ve wanted to say that for a long time.”
He was still tracing patterns on the back of her hand. “Nobody ever got to me the way you did.”
“Nor me. We were very young and very intense about everything, weren’t we? Too intense, maybe.”
“I don’t think so.”
Something in his voice caught her, made her look up quickly, but he was still studying her hand, as though he feared to meet her eyes.
“Luke, I—”
There was a slight thump as the boat reached the landing stage. All around them people were getting to their feet, preparing to disembark. He raised her hand and kissed it and led her from the boat.
He kept hold of her hand until they met up again with the others, then let it discreetly fall. A riotous meal was followed by the fireworks display. Josie was openmouthed, staring up into the dark sky as it was flooded with brilliance. Luke’s parents, too, seemed to be seeing it all for the first time.
Nobody was looking at Luke and Pippa. In the midst of that huge crowd they were invisible. Luke’s hands were on either side of her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. His eyes were warm, and then his lips were on hers, as tenderly as a boy with his first kiss.
“Pippa,” he whispered. “Pippa, my Pippa—”
He kissed her mouth softly, almost reverently. Her returning kiss was the same, loving rather than passionate. It was all part of the dream, and as a dream she would take it, not asking more, for that was when dreams died.
He seemed to understand that, too, for he drew back and rested his arms on her shoulders, his forehead against hers, his smiling eyes close to hers. Suddenly a tremor overtook him. In a shaking voice he said, “Oh, Pippa!” and pulled her close, not kissing her but burying his face against her neck in a bear hug. “Pippa, Pippa, Pippa!”
She hugged him back in the same way, her eyes closed as she guessed his were, so that the world contained nothing but their shared warmth and the tightness of their arms about each other. And neither of them saw the three interested pairs of eyes watching them.
It was midnight when they reached the home of Luke’s parents, but they stayed for a quick snack. Pippa would have been glad to fade into the background and let Josie be the star, but Luke’s mom had other ideas. She had called Pippa “my daughter-in-law,” and it clearly hadn’t been an idle remark. Now she treated her with conspicuous honor, and although she only repeated the dangerous words once, her feelings permeated the air. Pippa felt awkward, but Luke seemed surprisingly unfazed when she tackled him about it.
“She’s a mother,” he said. “It goes with the territory. She’s been trying to settle me down with a good woman for years.”
“Someone should tell her that good women give you a wide berth,” Pippa replied crisply. “This is about Josie, not me.”
“Well, she’s not happy about the fact that her new granddaughter is going away in a few days,” he retorted. “Maybe she’s trying to tell you something.”
“No, it’s you she’s trying to tell, and you ought to warn her off, Luke. It’s not fair to anyone.”
His mother called him at that point, so he didn’t have to reply, but he gave her a strange look.
At last it was time to say goodbye, but only until the next night when the family was coming over to Luke’s home to watch the show. His mother hugged Pippa fiercely. As they were in the front hall she seemed to remember something.
“Luke, before you go—”
“Yes, Mom?”
“Come here.”
Obediently he went to stand in front of his mother, looking down at her, smiling. The next moment he was reeling back from the sharpest box on the ears she had ever given him.
“Hey, Mom!”
“That’s for not telling us! Ten years of our grandchild we’ve missed. You should be ashamed.”
“I am, Mom. Promise.” He backed hastily from the martial light in his mother’s eye.
He got hastily into the car, rubbing his ear. As they pulled away from the curb he complained to Pippa, “If I’m not being bullied by her, I’m being bullied by you. If I’m not being bullied by you, I’m being bullied by Claudia. If I’m not being bullied by Claudia, I’m being bullied by my daughter. That guy who talked about the monstrous regiment of women sure knew what he was talking about.” There was a giggle from the back seat. “And you can hush up!”
Josie made no answer, but after a few minutes Luke became aware of a strange sound coming from the back seat.
“Josie? You’re not crying, are you?”
“Not really, it’s just—we came all this way, and we don’t have much time together, and…and you had to get mad at me…and—” She choked into silence.
Luke slammed the car into the side of the road. He was out in a moment, pulling open the rear door, flinging himself inside, taking his
daughter in his arms.
“Honey, I’m sorry, I’m not really mad at you. Please…please darling, don’t cry. There baby…please…I can’t stand it…just tell me what you want, Daddy will make it right.”
“Luke,” Pippa said patiently, “it’s like taking candy from a baby. Mind you, I fell for it the first few times, too.”
“She’s upset—” Another suspicious sound made him look sharply at Josie. The tears had magically vanished, and the child was making unconvincing efforts to control her laughter. “Why you…!”
“Oh, Daddy, if you could see your face!”
“You…?”
“I learned how to do it in drama class at school.”
“You little wretch—come here!” He swept her up into a hug so fierce that she gasped. She returned it plus interest, her arms tight about his neck until he almost choked. Pippa rested her arm on the back of her seat and her chin on her arm, watching them with deep satisfaction.
She had all she’d asked for when she came here, including a return of the dream, for just one day. And now that the day was over, she had no complaints. She was far richer than she had been this morning.
Chapter Eight
By the time they reached home, Josie was fast asleep on the back seat. Luke carried her inside and laid her gently on the bed. Josie awoke just enough for Pippa to help her undress, then nodded off again at once. They crept out.
Pippa yawned. “I’ll just have some tea, and then I’ll turn in, too.”
“Not yet,” Luke begged, sliding his arms around her and trying to kiss her.
“Luke, no,” she said, pressing a hand against his chest.
“What is it?”
“Today was lovely, but we were on vacation—”
“Well, we still are.” He tightened his arms and this time managed to touch her mouth with his own. She was shaken by the temptation to yield. It had been a lovely day. Couldn’t it last just a little longer?
“Pippa, things have been very strange between us since you arrived, and I suppose they were bound to be. But today—it was different—something happened between us.”
“Something happened between the boy and girl we were pretending to be, but that doesn’t really count.”
“It could if we wanted it to,” he murmured, brushing her forehead with his lips. “Don’t you want to?”
“No, I…I don’t—”
His lips were caressing her cheek, her jaw. “Do you really mean that?”
“I don’t know, but you’re not being fair. Please, Luke, let me go. It’s been lovely, but now we have to be sensible.”
“Sensible?” he whispered against her mouth. “Us?”
“Yes—us,” she whispered back. She couldn’t resist softly touching his hair, wanting him even as she denied him. And the yearning little voice inside cried, “Just this once.”
“No!” she said in alarm, pulling herself free of him. Trembling she turned to face him, seeing his shocked face, fighting not to let her feelings run away with her.
“I’m sorry, Luke, but can’t you see it’s too late? We can’t put the clock back. We pretended for a day, and it was wonderful, but it’s over now, and this is reality.”
“Reality.” Luke gave a grunt of mirthless laughter. “How I always hated that word.”
“Yes, me, too, sometimes. And this is one of them.”
“Then—”
“Darling, please. Everything’s different. I’m different.” She gave a wan smile. “I grew up and became sensible. I’m afraid there’s no getting rid of it now.”
“No,” he said heavily. “I guess not. I’m sorry, Pippa, I guess I misunderstood—a lot of things.” He seemed to pull himself together. “You’re right of course. We can’t put the clock back. I was out of line. Forget it. I’ll make you that tea. I’m famous for my English tea.”
He was smiling, almost clowning again, declaring the subject closed. She matched his smile with her own, and the dangerous moment passed. As soon as she could she took the tea he made her, bade him good-night and went to her room. Luckily Josie was asleep, and she was free to lie silently in bed, aching with longing and sadness. She would have been a fool to yield to Luke and her own heart, but as she stared into the darkness she was calling herself all kinds of a fool for not being a fool.
Luke didn’t go to bed. He did what he often did, went to lie stretched out on the sofa, watching the darkness. Sometimes he would stay there all night, waiting for the first touch of gray in the sky, the first glint on the sea. And it was here that he embarked on the process that passed, with him, for thinking.
It had alarmed and disconcerted him to discover that he wanted Pippa as much as he ever had. This had simply never happened before. “There’s nothing so dead as a dead love,” ran the saying, and while he had sometimes returned to the bed of a previous lover, it had always been an exercise in nostalgia. What he felt now wasn’t nostalgia but the sharp edge of desire. As badly as he’d ever wanted anything in his life he wanted to take Pippa to his room, undress her and himself and make love to her until they were both exhausted. And then he wanted to make love to her again.
He remembered some of the little teasing enticements she’d known by instinct and used without mercy. How he’d loved them then and how he ached for them now. He smiled, but in the same moment his body began to respond to the memories, and he forced himself to suppress them. A man couldn’t afford to think like that about a woman who’d rejected him. It made life too difficult.
Pippa had rejected him.
But this was a new and unknown woman whose mystery still held promise.
Not the Pippa of the past, but a different person, part known, part stranger, wholly tantalizing. Young Pippa had been joined by grown-up Pippa, sensible Pippa and even sad Pippa. He didn’t know what had made him think of that, but he saw her in his mind, looking pensive, as though she concealed some inner pain. And now he realized how often her face wore that look.
He dozed for a while, was awakened by a noise from the kitchen and went to investigate.
“It’s only me, Daddy. I’m getting some milk.”
“It’s four in the morning. You ought to be out like a light after the day you had. Want something to eat?”
“Ice cream?”
“God bless your stomach!” Luke said fervently. “Ice cream, after candy floss, toffee apple—here.”
“Thanks.”
He sat on the bar stool and watched her eat. “What’s it like living in the guest house, Josie?”
“Nice. Mommy said you used to live there with her.”
“Yes, but that was a while back. I expect it’s changed.”
“It’s been done up. It’s all bright and cheerful now. Would you like to see? I’ve got some pictures. Hang on.”
She slid quietly back up to the bedroom and returned a moment later with a wad of pictures.
“Mommy brought some, too,” she said, climbing back onto the stool, “but I don’t know where hers are.”
Luke studied the house, which had indeed been transformed, especially the kitchen. Ma’s kitchen, he recalled, had been fit only for a museum.
“Who’s that?” he asked suddenly, pointing to a man standing with Pippa. They were raising their glasses to each other.
“That’s Derek. He’s in love with Mommy. He keeps giving her roses. Look, you can see them just behind Mommy’s shoulder.”
Peering closely, Luke made out a bunch of vivid red roses. He said nothing.
“And this one’s Mark,” Josie said, pressing another photograph in his hand. “He tests cars for a manufacturer, and he does some racing, only Formula Three, though. He takes Mommy out sometimes and drives her really fast. She likes it. She says it’s exciting. Funny.”
“Why is it funny?”
“Well, she’s Mommy. Somehow you don’t think of your mother finding things exciting.”
“She wasn’t always your mother. When I knew her she found everything exciting.”
“What was she like then?”
“Fun,” he said with a little smile. “She wore these crazy clothes, orange jeans and purple cowboy boots.”
“Mom?” Josie said sceptically. “Sure you haven’t confused her with another girlfriend?”
“Watch it, smarty! Anyway, I didn’t have any other girlfriends when I was with her. Somehow, when Pippa was around you never saw anyone else. She just lit up the sky and made all the world as crazy and wonderful as she was.”
He saw Josie’s puzzled look and realized that his words made no sense to her. She couldn’t relate them to her mother.
“She certainly seems cheerful enough in this one,” he said, returning to the photos.
Pippa was sitting in an open-topped car, her hair windblown, her face smiling. Beside her sat a man Luke supposed women would have called handsome. He didn’t know. There was no accounting for tastes. He handed the picture back.
“And how does Mommy feel?” he asked. “Does she have any special friends?”
“You mean, anyone who stays all night in her room?” Josie asked wisely.
He felt himself reddening. “Um…yes, I suppose I mean that.”
“Don’t think so. I never hear any moaning and groaning.”
“What…what do you know about moaning and groaning?” he demanded, aghast.
“We had a honeymoon couple once, and they—”
“Yes, all right,” he said hastily, adding in a mutter, “Good grief, if I’d said anything like that to my mother she’d have fainted.”
“It’s a new generation, Dad. Things have changed since your day.”
“Get back to bed. You’re making me feel ancient.”
“Well, face it, Dad. You were born in the last century.”
He was definitely slipping. She’d vanished before he thought to say, “So were you!”
When she’d gone he looked at the photos again, wishing the man in the car hadn’t been so good-looking, and wondering if he had anything to do with Pippa’s rejection of himself. He returned to the front room and sat in darkness, looking out over the sea, trying to shake off a gnawing sadness. It was a feeling he never wasted much time on. If something made him sad, he turned his thoughts in a different direction. But it wasn’t so easy this time, and he, the least analytical of men, was being forced to analyze.