“We can drop her off at the shelter on our way back to the station,” Chuck said. “C’mon.” He and Willy left to go back to the truck.
Patrick, Midas, and the kitten took another moment for themselves. “What do you think, Midas?”
The dog woofed softly and licked the kitten’s ear.
“Yeah, I like her too.”
Patrick hadn’t considered himself a cat person, but this kitty—like a certain woman he knew—had worked a little spell on him that had him thinking differently.
Chapter Twenty-One
The drive to Rhode Island always relaxed Gini. As a student, she often came home on weekends to be with her family and considered the drive an opportunity to truly enjoy the picturesque New England landscape. A photographer’s dream. Today was no different, and the drive did wonders to dull the pain of her father’s words two nights ago. She’d avoided her parents’ calls and just took off. Jonah would explain her disappearance. They would worry, but there wouldn’t be anything they could do. She’d be about five hours away and on her own.
That was the other advantage to going to Rhode Island. She never had a full day to herself in Vermont. Her parents or Jonah were always checking in, inviting her over, watching her. She appreciated their concern, but it got a little suffocating sometimes. She had no room to breathe. It made her feel like a child who needed constant baby-sitting.
Gini turned up the car stereo and let the Rhode Island borders swallow her. The traffic was dense, but the fading sun cast everything in a pinkish glow, making the car windshields flicker like Christmas lights. Gini wished she could dig out her camera and capture the light on film, but once again had to settle for a mental picture. She crept ahead a few feet and waited to get on the Newport Bridge. Willow had invited Gini to stay at her fiancé’s parent’s beach house…or mansion…or whatever it was. Willow, her sister, and her mother were bunking in a cottage on the grounds. Sounded like a taste of the high life—something Gini wasn’t used to but planned on enjoying for the weekend.
Night had fallen by the time Gini pulled into the semi-circular driveway in front of an enormous stone house. Medieval almost in décor, the mansion boasted two actual turret towers and a steeple roof above the tall front doors. A four-car garage branched off to the left, and smaller stone buildings dotted what Gini could see of the backyard from the driveway. Trees with large orange berries she couldn’t identify lined the driveway while smaller flowering plants hugged the ground below the trees. Evergreens had been cut into clean spirals at either side of the front doors, and in the distance, the ocean kissed the rocky shore.
Gini grabbed her purse and leaned against her SUV, inhaling the sea-salted darkness. Burnam offered no glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean. The closest water was Gini’s tiny pond, big enough to wade in with the horses and take a dip, but no good for much else. She’d definitely have to squeeze in a few hours of lazing on the sand and splashing around in the sea.
She hauled her small suitcase out of the trunk and hollered when arms whirled her around.
“Jesus, Willow.” Gini’s heart pounded in her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” Willow pulled Gini into an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here. This is going to be so great!”
“Cheer up, Willow.” Gini smirked as Willow giggled.
“I know. I’m way over the top, but I don’t care.” She twirled away from Gini, her long, red hair fluttering out behind her. “I’m in love. I’m getting married. It’s good to be alive.” She waltzed back and took Gini’s suitcase. Setting it down, Willow caught Gini in a dance hold, and the two of them swing danced down the driveway.
“Oh, somebody’s rusty. You’re letting those lessons we took go to waste, girlie,” Willow said. “Haven’t been practicing?” She leaned away to study Gini’s face.
“No one to practice with.” Gini let her hands drop from Willow’s grasp and pushed her purse back up onto her shoulder.
Willow angled her head and puckered out her lips. “No, that’s not it.”
“What do you mean? I can’t swing dance with myself.” Gini picked up her suitcase.
“No, I mean it’s not that you don’t have a partner.” Willow narrowed her golden brown eyes. “You’ve got one in mind.”
“Cut that out,” Gini said. “You know I hate when you do that.”
“Do what?” Willow took Gini’s suitcase and led her onto a small path off the driveway.
“Read me like a book. It’s creepy.”
“Can’t help it. You’ve met someone.”
Gini shrugged behind Willow. True, she had met someone. False, she was going doing anything about it. Patrick was not her dance partner.
“Your silence speaks volumes.” Willow walked up the steps of a house too big to be considered a cottage in Gini’s mind.
“This weekend is about you,” Gini said. “Let’s keep it that way, okay?”
As Willow opened the door, she turned to look at Gini. “If that’s what you want.”
“I do.” Gini stepped past Willow into the cottage.
“Fine, but,” Willow grabbed Gini’s arm to stop her, “if you want to talk, you know I’ll listen.”
Gini gave Willow a quick hug and that contact did more to settle her than any of her meditative tricks. She hadn’t had one incident while in college with Willow, and Gini now realized it had so much to do with the kind of friend Willow had been. The kind of friend she was still today.
“Thanks, Willow.”
Willow nodded. “A fast hello to Mom and Lily, then I’ll show you to your room.”
“Sure.”
“Then, if you’re not too tired, some dinner?” Willow’s hopeful eyes made Gini laugh.
“I’m hungry.”
Willow did a little jig in the hallway and escorted Gini into a living room furnished with a white couch, two pale blue Queen Anne chairs, and an assortment of sailboat paintings on the walls. Posh, yet simple. Homey, yet nautical.
“Nice,” Gini said.
“I’m deathly afraid I’m going to get that couch dirty though. Look at how white it is.” Willow thrust her arm out to the couch, and Gini had to agree the thought of actually sitting on it made her sweat. Sweat would probably stain that couch.
“That you, Willow?”
“Yes, and I’ve brought in a stray Vermonter.” Willow put Gini’s suitcase down and dragged her into the yellowest kitchen Gini had ever seen. Although it was dark outside, it seemed as if the sun were shining in the room. Seashell decorations were tastefully tucked into every nook and cranny, and Willow’s mother sipped tea at a small wicker bistro set by a bay window. Her sister, Lily, munched on a cookie at the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Gini!” Willow’s mother got up from her seat. “So glad you could come on such short notice. My daughter’s engagement has been such a whirlwind.” She gave Gini a hug and a kiss to each cheek then stepped back. Her eyes traveled from Gini’s head to her toes. “My, don’t you look wonderful.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Greene. You look fabulous as well.”
“It’s the tea. Secret formula.” She winked at Gini and sat back at the table.
“Hey, Lily,” Gini said. “What have you been up to?”
Lily gave a shrug that sent her dyed jet-black hair sliding over her shoulders. “Nothing. Just trapped here while my actual life is on hold.”
“Lily,” Mrs. Greene said. “Enough already.”
“My sister thinks I’m succumbing to societal norms by entering into a binding marital contract.” Willow rolled her eyes, and Gini had to stifle a laugh. Good thing she hadn’t gotten stuck with Lily as a roommate at RISD.
“It’s so predictable, Willow. I feel bad for the two point five kids you’re going to shoot out of your vagina.”
“Especially the point five,” Gini said.
Willow and Mrs. Greene burst into laughter with Gini, but Lily scowled from the island.
“Lily’s going to make a splen
did maid of honor, don’t you think?” Willow asked.
Gini opened her mouth to respond but then closed it. “I’m not touching that one.”
“Wise girl,” Mrs. Greene said.
“I’m going to set Gini up in her room then we’re off to dinner. You sure you don’t want to come, Mom?” Willow asked.
“No, I’m all set. You girls have fun catching up.”
“Yes,” Lily said as she spun the silver stud in her bottom lip, “have fun hob-knobbing with the epitome of economical conceit here in Newport.”
“We will.” Willow pinched her sister’s cheek and earned herself a slap on the hand. She laughed and bent to kiss her mother’s cheek. She motioned to Gini to follow her up a set of stairs off the kitchen.
At the top, Gini stopped in front of a porthole type window. She wished she could see outside, but the darkness was absolute. Not a light out there anywhere. Gini knew the water had to be hiding under that curtain of black. She couldn’t wait to explore it, swim through it, wash away her troubles in it. She would let the past few days in Vermont go out with the tide and, hopefully, welcome in something fresh on the waves.
****
“You’re going to keep it?” Raina’s nose crinkled. “I thought you didn’t like them.”
“I like this one.”
“What about Midas?”
“Midas likes this one too.”
“He doesn’t like any of them.”
“Not true. He likes this one and recently met another one he could tolerate.”
“Where?”
“At Gini’s.”
“Oh, I see.” Raina’s smile was smug. “You’re trying to get on Gini’s good side by adopting this glorified rat.” She shook her head when Patrick tried to hand her the kitten he’d rescued from the cabin.
“It’s not a glorified rat, Raina. It’s a cat. People all over the world have accepted them as domestic pets.”
“Not me. I’m afraid the thing will scratch my eyes out while I sleep.” She sat on the edge of a sawhorse in the great room.
“I think a cat would have to worry about getting its eyes scratched out by you while it slept.”
Raina let out a hiss and laughed. “I thought you were a solid dog man. All the way. Man’s best friend and all that crap. To see you standing here, cuddling no less, with that fleaball is disturbing. It’s like I don’t even know you.”
“You’re right.” Patrick let the kitten crawl up onto his shoulder. “If you told me I’d be owning a cat last week, I’d have said you were insane.”
The kitten pushed her nose into his ear and he laughed. Really laughed. The sound surprised him as the kitten rubbed her cheek along his neck. “There is something about this one, though. She doesn’t meow, but the vet couldn’t find anything wrong with her.”
Patrick plucked the kitten from his shoulder and set her in the crook of his bent arm. She nestled in against his chest, all warm and small. She’d done the same thing this morning in his bed. Patrick had slept soundly last night for the first time in a long time. No dreams. No nightmares. When he’d opened his eyes as sunlight poured into his bedroom, the little kitten was curled into a tight circle on his bare chest. He’d watched her tiny body rise and fall as he breathed.
She hadn’t been afraid to settle down on his scars. They hadn’t kept her from choosing that spot to sleep. She hadn’t cared. The kitten wanted to be close to him on her first night in her new home. She hadn’t judged. She hadn’t run. She’d accepted.
Patrick felt he owed something to the kitten for that.
Raina stood and took a step closer. She ran a finger down the kitten’s solid black back. “She is cute, I guess. Now that I really look at her. What are you going to name her?”
“I don’t know yet,” Patrick said. “It’ll come to me.”
Raina nodded and looked around the great room. “So what are you working on today, Mr. Construction?”
Patrick set the kitten down on the ground and let her play with his shoelace for a moment. She bounced around his boot, swiping at the loop of string then skittering back as if she expected it to attack her in retaliation.
“Shower install, master bathroom. I started it last night.” Patrick led Raina to the bathroom, and she peeked inside.
“Nice window. That’s new.”
“Did that yesterday too. It was too dark in here.”
Raina whistled as she admired the beginnings of a corner shower stall. “You are a Renaissance man, Patrick. You try it all when it comes to construction.”
“Grandpa taught me well.” Patrick glanced at his grandfather’s old toolbox on the floor in the bathroom. He remembered helping Grandpa make it in the workshop. “Besides, what’s the worst that can happen? If I mess something up, I can always call in somebody to fix it. It’s all just one big experiment.”
“As is life,” Raina said.
“Life is not as easily fixed.”
“Shouldn’t keep you from trying things, though.” Raina poked him in the stomach, and Patrick backed up so she could come out of the bathroom. She strolled through the great room to the front door. Patrick followed behind her with the kitten scurrying between his feet.
When Raina reached the door, she turned around. “Don’t lose track of time, okay? You’d better be ready when I come to pick you up.” She wagged a long finger at him.
Patrick reached out and grabbed her finger. “Don’t scold me. I haven’t done anything wrong yet.” He smiled as he twisted her finger slightly.
Raina kicked at his boot and pulled herself free. “Despite the new love of soft, fluffy kittens, I know you, Patrick Barre. You get your tools going, and suddenly time doesn’t exist. You’re in another dimension, population of one.”
Patrick held his hands up in surrender. “Point made. I’ll set the alarm on my watch so I’ll stop an hour early. Make sure I’m all cleaned up and ready.”
“I’m not trusting your watch.” Raina shook her head. “I’m calling you one hour before I come to get you. I wouldn’t want to be you if you don’t answer the phone.” She wagged her finger again and ripped open the front door before Patrick could grab her. The sound of her laughter floated in on the hot breeze.
Patrick stepped to the threshold and waved to Raina as she backed out of his driveway. A scratching noise down at his feet made him look down. The kitten pawed the casing around the door and turned her headlight eyes up to him. Patrick crouched and picked up the kitten. Setting her on his knee, he looked at her eye-to-eye. She opened her mouth and pantomimed a meow. Not even a squeak came out.
“What are you trying to say, kitty?” Patrick rubbed between her ears. “I think I’ll call you Whisper.” He placed his hand on his stomach and thought about the kitten on his chest this morning, on his scars. “I hope you can keep a secret.”
****
Gini slipped into the turquoise dress she’d brought with her for the wedding. Satin spaghetti straps hung over her tanned shoulders. A scalloped neckline and high waist emphasized her breasts nicely. The hem of the dress reached about four inches above her knees and showcased two long legs that balanced on silver-sandaled feet. Willow’s mother had piled all of Gini’s hair into an intricate twist that spilled curls from the top and around her face.
Looking in the mirror, Gini was rather impressed with the outcome. She rarely got this fancified and almost didn’t recognize herself. She put on dangling silver heart earrings and a matching bracelet. A couple of touch-ups to her makeup, and she grabbed her camera and dressy purse. As she picked up the tiny purse—about one twentieth the size of her everyday bottomless pit—she wondered what Patrick would say. She only had room for her wallet, phone, keys, tissues, lipstick, and a mirror in the small clutch.
See, I can downsize.
Downstairs, Willow’s mother paced in the kitchen. When Gini touched her arm to stop her, Mrs. Greene looked up with tears in her eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Gini asked.
Mrs. Green
e grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and dabbed at the tears rolling down her cheeks.
“My Willow is getting married.” She burst into a full sob and clung to Gini.
“That’s a good thing, Mrs. Greene. You’ve seen how happy she is.” Gini rubbed the woman’s back as the tears flowed.
“I know, I know. She’s walking on clouds. And Andrew is such a nice young man. He’ll take care of Willow, but…” Mrs. Greene blew her nose, “who’s going to take care of me?”
“Oh, Mrs. Greene, don’t see it as losing a daughter. See it as gaining a son.” Gini embraced Willow’s mother again and gave her a quick squeeze. “I’m sure you’ll be well taken care of.”
Mrs. Greene nodded slowly as if she were turning Gini’s words over in her head. Gini wanted to say that she still had Lily, but somehow didn’t think that would be much comfort.
“It’s just that since my husband passed on, Willow’s been right there making sure I’m okay.” Mrs. Greene wiped her eyes once more. “But you’re right, Gini. Look at this cottage. Andrew turned it over to us for the week just like that. He’s not even going to be here until tonight. I suppose a man that does that sort of thing won’t leave me in a nursing home to rot when I’m old and feeble.”
“Who says you’re ever going to be old and feeble?” Gini winked and Mrs. Greene laughed through the last of her tears. “I mean, look at you. You look fantastic in that dress.” Gini waved her camera. “I just don’t know how I’ll manage keeping the lens focused on Willow with you looking all spectacular.”
Mrs. Greene swatted a hand in the air. “Aren’t you a sweetie? I always liked you, Gini Claremont.” She narrowed her eyes for a moment. “Why aren’t you all married off?”
Gini drew in a deep breath. Because I have the potential to blow things up with my rage. “Don’t have the time, I guess.”
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