BO’S MOUTH dropped open when he saw the number of cars on the street. One of the One Wish House residents—Bo couldn’t remember her name—moved a barricade to let Ren park in the driveway behind his mother’s car.
“Wow! Good turnout,” he said, getting out.
“It’s been like this all morning, hasn’t it, Sally?” Ren gave the blonde a friendly smile. When Bo looked at her, she gave him a stern frown.
Bo sighed. “This ain’t gonna be a cakewalk, is it?”
Ren cuffed him lightly. “Nothing worthwhile ever is.”
They entered the side gate, which had been propped open with a garbage can, and Ren took off to find Sara. Using his skill as a sleuth, Bo melted into the crowd, on the lookout for Claudie. He felt her presence before he saw her. Her back was to him. He didn’t recognize the long-sleeved wine-colored wool dress, but its simple sheath cut made her look taller. Sheer gray hose set off her shapely calves, and platform heels gave her an extra three inches of height. Instead of the spiky curls he loved, her hair had been tamed to a sophisticated cap of waves.
Bo’s heart leapt in his chest but a bittersweet bite of fear made him hesitate. She was engaged in an animated conversation with Rochell. Bo saw Claudie put out her hand and squeeze the other woman’s shoulder. When Rochell looked up, there were tears in her eyes.
Bo knew the moment Rochell realized he was watching. Their eyes met. Hers took on a shuttered look and she dropped her chin. Claudie glanced over her shoulder. Her spontaneous smile was replaced by a cautious nod.
Adrenaline pumped through his veins. He hurried to her side.
“Hi.”
Claudie looked at him a long time, her eyes checking out his face, his clothes, his hands. Bo glanced down. “I should have brought flowers,” he said stupidly.
She blushed. “No. It’s okay. I…um…” She suddenly looked at the woman beside her. “Bo, you know Rochell, right?”
“Hell, yeah, he knows me. He came to the house looking for you.”
Bo didn’t want to talk to anyone. He wanted to pull Claudie into the most private corner around and kiss her. Instead, he put out his hand and smiled. “Nice to see you. Could we go somewhere and talk?” he asked Claudie.
Claudie frowned. “I’m in the middle of something here, Bo.” She turned to Rochell. “I’m sorry for assuming the worst.”
Rochell shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.” She turned and left.
“Claudie, I—” Bo started.
She interrupted him. “I made a mistake, Bo.” His stomach flip-flopped. “I thought Rochell was using drugs. Her eyes were red—she seemed really out of it.” Claudie sighed. “She’s been studying for her GED—burning the midnight oil. I’m such a fool.”
“No you’re not. You care about these women. Isn’t that what all this is about?” He made an encompassing gesture. “The women of One Wish House are making good things happen, and I like being a part of that.” He nodded at a man he recognized as a prominent attorney. “So do a lot of other people, apparently.”
Something in Claudie’s eyes softened. “If you’re serious about pitching in, they could use your help in the kitchen,” she said, her tone teasing.
Bo’s heart skipped a beat. “Only if it’ll get me some time alone with you.” He moved to close the gap between them, but bumped into someone who muttered something in Spanish, then exclaimed, “Meester Bo,” Davina chirped, “you came home. I knew you would. They all say you are never coming back, but I know different.”
“Why wouldn’t I come back?”
“If I had a rich papa who wasn’t doing too good, that’s where I’d be,” Davina answered, nibbling on something that looked like an egg roll.
Bo stepped back as if struck. He looked at Claudie. “Is that what you think?”
Her cheeks turned the color of her dress and she looked around self-consciously. “No. Of course not. It’s just that…” She shook her head. “Let’s not do this here. Ren’s about to start the auction.”
Her diversion worked. Davina wiggled her fingers at Bo in a cute wave. “I gotta go,” she said. “I’m biddin’ on the Hawaii trip. Sandy beaches and mai tais, here I come.”
Claudie started to step away but Bo stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Claudie, I know I was a jerk when you left but we can talk about this, right? Did you get my e-mail?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, softly, her gaze not meeting his. “It’s a little hectic right now and I need to talk to Ren before he starts the auction. Will you be around later?”
All Bo could do was nod. This wasn’t at all what he’d planned. He grabbed the closest folding chair and sat, his gaze following as Claudie melted into the crowd.
“Hello, Bo,” a clipped voice said.
Bo looked up, his heart sinking another inch into the soft ground. He dragged himself to his feet. “Hello, Mrs. Bishop. How are you today?”
She studied him a moment then took the chair beside his. “I wanted to tell you that I’m very impressed with the way you handled things with your father,” she told him, motioning for him to sit.
Bo’s shock must have been written on his face because Babe added, “Family is the most important thing there is in the world. Family…and love. Sometimes those things are the most painful, too. But you didn’t let your antipathy stand in the way of doing the right thing—where your parents were concerned, anyway.”
Bo swallowed. “Thank you.”
She gave him an odd look. “I never would have guessed you to be a poet. Isn’t it odd how we so often keep the most interesting parts of ourselves hidden from view? Even from those for whom we care the most,” she said softly, then rose and walked away.
Claudie showed Babe my poem? His shock was almost as great as his humiliation.
“BO’S HERE,” Claudie whispered in Sara’s ear.
Sara finished making change for the last dim sum customer then whipped a fat rubber band around the cash box and stuffed it in her purse. “Tahiti or the Virgin Islands? Which one do you want? I figure there’s enough cash in this box to live on for a year.”
“Tahiti. And I doubt if the Virgin Islands would take me.”
Sara’s smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes, which seemed filled with sympathy. “Have you talked to him?”
Claudie gave a noncommittal shrug.
“You’re going to have to, you know.”
Claudie took a deep breath, rallying her spirit. “Yeah, I know. I can run, but there’s nowhere to hide. He’s too good a P.I. to let me get away with that.”
She turned to leave, but Sara stopped her. “Um…Babe knows about the poem. She read your e-mail. Not on purpose, but—”
An odd kind of expectation made her ask, “What’d she say?”
Sara smiled, a bit wistfully. “Something about underestimating poorly dressed men.” The two friends looked at each other and grinned, but Sara quickly sobered. “What are you going to say to him?”
“I don’t know, Sara. My heart almost jumped out of my chest when I saw him. I’ve missed him so much. But I’m afraid, too.”
Sara rose and gave her a quick hug. “Sometimes, you have to gamble, Claudie. A lot of people—you included, if I remember correctly—told me Ren was only interested in me because of Brady. But, I knew deep down he was the only man in the world for me.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” an amplified voice said, “If you’d be so kind as to lend me your attention—and your wallets.”
Claudie watched as Ren drew in the audience with his easy banter. As everything from clock radios to fancy dinners went for top dollar, she scanned the crowd looking for—but not finding—Bo. She happened to look toward the stage when Ren paused dramatically to pull an unmarked envelope out of his pocket. She’d personally tagged all the items up for auction and couldn’t recall seeing that one.
“Now, here’s an interesting item,” Ren said, waving it back and forth. “Personally, I love this one, but then, I’m a hopeless romantic. As some of you might know,
I was married recently. My lovely wife, Sara, is right over there. Sara, take a bow.”
Blushing, Sara rose and waved as the audience applauded.
The crowd laughed when Ren added, “As you can see, our honeymoon was quite successful.”
Sara ducked behind Claudie, trying to hide.
“Claudie!” Ren exclaimed, as if remiss in his duties. “Ladies and gentlemen, I forgot to introduce Claudine St. James, founder and administrator of One Wish House.” He walked to the edge of the small deck that was serving as a stage. “Claudie, come up here a minute.”
Claudie shook her head. “No thanks, Ren. I’m fine right here.”
Sara placed her hands firmly at Claudie’s shoulders and pushed her toward the steps. “Go. He’s not going to let you off the hook.”
Letting out a sigh, she trudged up the redwood steps. She gave him her most ferocious glare, but Ren smiled smoothly and put his arm around her shoulders to lead her to center stage. Claudie used the time to try to read the writing on the envelope in his hand. It looked like Sara’s writing.
After the applause died down, Ren handed her the envelope and said, “Since you’re up here, why don’t I put you to work? Would you like to read the next item up for bid?”
Claudie slipped her finger under the tab and looked inside. A single sheet of creamy paper. Ornate calligraphy—Sara’s latest hobby—made it hard to scan, but two words jumped off the page and Claudie almost dropped the paper.
Ren smoothly took it from her, saying, “You’re right. This is my job. But you hang tight so we can give this to its rightful owner, once it’s purchased.”
Claudie looked for Sara, who was beaming like a beacon. Oh, my friends what have you done? Desperately, she glanced around. Where’s Bo? What if he left?
“Now, as I was saying. As a recent newlywed myself, I can tell you the most—and I mean most—important part of a wedding is the honeymoon.” The crowd guffawed. “So, what we have here is a paid trip to the honeymoon capitol of the world—I don’t know that for a fact but that’s what this paper says—Niagara Falls.” A loud cheer went up.
Ren rattled off all the details; a stay at a bed-and-breakfast; boat trip under the falls; sleeper accommodations by train. To start the bidding, he said, “I’d say twenty-five hundred dollars isn’t too much to pay for the trip of a lifetime.”
A youthful voice sang out. “Twenty-five hundred.”
Claudie spotted the man. A yuppie MBA with his girlfriend at his side. Bo, where are you when I need you?
“Three thousand,” she said without thinking.
Ren stepped back in amazement. “Excuse me?”
She glared at him. “You heard me. Three.”
He looked over her shoulder at his wife. “Okay.” He cleared his throat and continued, “The bid’s been raised. Do I hear any others?”
The man at the edge of the crowd called out, “Four thousand.”
Claudie couldn’t look at the couple. It made no sense, but she knew she couldn’t let someone else have her honeymoon—even if she didn’t have a fiancé. “Five thousand two hundred,” she said, naming the portion of her inheritance she’d planned to use as a down payment on a new car. She’d worry about that later.
Ren grimaced. “The bid is now five thousand two hundred dollars. Going once, going…”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the woman clobber the man with her purse. “Fifty-three hundred,” he yelped.
Claudie didn’t dare go any higher. She needed a car. Niagara Falls was a pipe dream. She reached deep for her best what-the-hell face, but it just wasn’t there. Ren’s eyes were filled with sorrow as he said, “Five thousand three hundred dollars. Going once. Going twice…”
“Six,” another voice said. “Oh, what the hell, make it ten. I only plan to do this once.”
Bo cleared the railing of the deck with a clean vault. He walked past Ren and stopped in front of Claudie. “Can we talk now?”
She nodded. There was no way she could speak, her heart was in a million pieces.
Bo put out his hand. She gave him hers.
“Going, going, gone,” Ren said, hastily, as they left the deck and entered the house. A tumultuous cheer followed them inside.
The parlor was empty so Claudie stopped, turned and threw herself into Bo’s arms. “I thought you’d left.”
He kissed her hair and hugged her tight. “Never,” he whispered. “I was getting bawled out by the tall blonde for letting you leave New York without me. What’s her name? Sally?”
“Sally Rae,” Claudie said looking up.
Bo kissed her forehead. “Were you really going to blow a big chunk of your inheritance on a trip?”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s a trip of a lifetime,” she said.
“Only if you’re with the person you love. I love you, Claudie, marry me? You know it wouldn’t be a honeymoon without you.” His impish smile made her burst out in tears. He gathered her close. “Oh, babe, I’m sorry. I say the stupidest things when I’m nervous.”
“You’re never nervous,” she corrected.
“That was before I fell in love. Now, I’m nervous all the time. I’m afraid I’m gonna blow it with you. Like I did in New York.”
She moved back to give herself space to breathe. His hands skittered up and down her back like nervous cats looking for a place to settle. She laid her head against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat brought back a flood of memories—tenderness, tears, breathless passion she’d never expected to feel.
“I don’t know, Bo. Do you honestly think we can get beyond our pasts?”
He kissed her hard, then led her to the settee. He dropped to the cushion beside her, never letting go of her hands.
Gazing into her eyes, he said gravely, “I know we can as long as we talk to each other. I’ll even introduce you to Mike.”
Her breath stopped. “Really?”
He nodded. “But only if I can meet Yancy.”
This time Claudie saw through his humor to the sad inner child behind his quip. “Can you tell me what happened in New York?”
His broad shoulders sagged. “When there was a chance Dad was going to die, I thought I could handle my feelings, my anger. For some reason dead was doable. But when it looked as though he’d pull through, all these conflicting emotions hit. Anger. Sympathy. Bitterness. Grief. And, with you, love.”
She cupped his jaw. “That scared you, right?”
He nodded. “Yes, but not for the reason you think. What I felt for you was so real, so pure, I was afraid it would get sullied if Dad were in the picture. Do you see what I’m trying to say? Dad lived his life without any respect for love, and I didn’t want him to make what I felt less than perfect.”
“How could he do that, Bo? You’re not your father. You feel things differently.”
“Am I really that different? It’s easy to tell yourself that when you’re three thousand miles apart, but the more time I spent with him, the more I wondered. I’m forty years old, Claudie, and I’ve never been in love until I met you. My dad slept with women left and right, but I wouldn’t call that love.”
“But your mother—”
“She loved him, and he put her through hell.”
Claudie understood what he didn’t say. “Bo, I’m not the type to put up with that kind of thing. You even look at another woman and I will hurt you. Believe me, it’s something a hooker learns how to do early on.”
He eyed her. “You mean that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Bo, you’re not your father. And I’m not your mother. I’m not my mother, either. I want two kids, not ten. Preferably two years apart.”
“A boy and a girl?” Bo asked, smiling.
She shrugged. “Sex doesn’t matter.”
He lowered his chin and waggled his bushy brows. “Oh, yes, it does, my love. I’d be happy to prove it to you, if you’d care to accompany me to my houseboat.”
She plunged into his arms. “I�
�ll go anywhere with you, but, first, I think we should talk about…the poem.” His body tensed.
Babe and a distinguished-looking gentleman started into the room until they caught sight of Bo and Claudie. Mumbling their apologies, the couple backed away.
Claudie sighed. She cupped Bo’s smooth, recently shaved jaw and said, “Okay. Let’s go, Cookbook Man. We can talk at home…I mean, the boat.”
Bo let out a loud whoop. “I heard that Freudian slip. You love me, Claudie St. James, and you’re going to marry me, aren’t you?”
A movement in the doorway caught Claudie’s eye. Four familiar faces were peeking around the jamb. Ren and Sara stood to one side. “Maybe,” she said, trying not to give away the flood of joy she felt inside.
“That’s a yes,” he cried, pumping his arm as if he’d just scored a touchdown. “When? Tomorrow?”
“No! Absolutely not. Good grief! I have a life, you know,” she said, too flustered to think. “Garret’s dying. Your father’s in the hospital. I have two hundred people in my backyard.”
Bo sobered. “Garret’s worse?”
Claudie nodded, her chest suddenly tight with emotion. Bo dropped to one knee in front of her. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. For everything. But most of all for blowing up when all you wanted to do was help with my dad. I was a coward. I didn’t want you to see the real me.”
Claudie blinked back her tears. “I’ve always seen the real you, Bo. Those disguises you wear wouldn’t fool Brady. You’re good and strong and kind and very brave when it comes to taking care of other people, but you’re too hard on yourself. And you’re not very forgiving when someone you love lets you down.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “That scares me, Bo. I’m afraid I won’t live up to the person you think I am.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “You’re right. I blamed myself for not being the son my father wanted. But that’s behind us now. Thanks to you…and what happened in Kansas.”
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