She really meant for him to come. Wait a minute. They were mixing Mom-care with dating. Hm. “And Mom too?”
“Oh, yes!”
Cara’s face wore an expression of such joy that any hesitation on Jason’s part was blown away. “Okay.”
“Hopefully Sherry can make it, too,” Cara finished.
Sherry? Oh, yeah. An outing for the people at the home. And with poor Sherry. Every time he thought of Mom’s friend, robbed of her mind at such a young age, his gut clenched. “It will be hard for Sherry, won’t it?”
Cara nodded, the brown pools of her eyes turning sad. “I won’t pressure her. If she wants to come, great. If not, that’s fine. If once we get there, Sherry’s not having fun, I’ll take her back and let the others stay. Then I’ll come back.”
He nodded. “Okay.” Jason studied Cara. She had turned the pranks of youth into kind gestures toward others who could thrive on her contagious sense of fun. She’d grown so much, he didn’t know the half of her. What would she want with a man who had slid backward in life while she had surged forward so far? His throat felt like a big needle had been jammed through it. But he forced his thoughts away from his own dilemma, the fact he was in no way worthy of her, and concentrated on Cara.
Cara’s cool toned skin glowed in the light thrown by the fake candle. Funny Cara was going to be a business consultant. Funny…but not in a good way. The career she’d charted for herself seemed like a waste of her true talents. He’d have to file this thought away for later. Tonight’s goal was to have a successful date.
The waitress described their dessert choices. Cara’s enthusiasm made him chuckle. He loved that about her. Despite the fact Cara could diet like a fiend, she also liked to eat and knew when to enjoy a good meal. Her body was strong and athletic, not skinny. Just more things to love about her—as if he needed more. His brain already was not up to the task of justifying why such a brilliant woman should hitch herself to him.
They shared a serving of the homemade blueberry pie and some decaffeinated coffee. The bill was delivered with two mints on the tray. Apparently the place had classed up a little.
After he paid and pulled out her chair, she let him loop his arm around her shoulders. He loved how he could squeeze Cara, and she wouldn’t break. He’d never been attracted to petite women, although he couldn’t claim to be so choosy during his heyday. But those women were supposed to help him deal with the stress and the pressure. Or, if he were honest, with missing Cara, who no longer needed him, who was making something important of herself.
Jason helped Cara into his truck and helped himself to a squeeze of her bottom in the process.
“Jason!” Cara said. But she turned and kissed him.
He savored her mouth, the mint and hint of coffee and blueberries, but mostly her soft lips. The dome light was getting in his eyes. “Come on, how would you like to take a stroll by the lighthouse?”
“That would be great.”
Jason helped her out of the truck. He scooped her under his arm, pulling her tight. They meandered to the lighthouse, which was more for show than function these days. The real one was located on the other side of the cove, but this beacon was historic, quaint…just right. The smooth seas reflected the squatting structure that glowed white in up-lighting.
This seemed like a very good date place. Jason never suggested it when they were teens. Back then he was far from suave, for sure. In a way, it would be better if he hadn’t known Cara for so long. Then she wouldn’t know as much about him. There wouldn’t have been so many opportunities for mistakes. He could present the best side of himself, the way most men did when wooing their women. Instead he dragged his checkered past on each date.
“Jason, this is so nice.” Cara looked up at him. He took her sweet mouth, but she didn’t throw herself into the kiss. She held something back. He released her and just rubbed her back, determined not to push. Of course she needed time. Whenever they got together, they broke up. Now going slow was part of the program.
“How is Garrett?” Cara leaned back in his arms so she could peer up at him. The lighthouse illuminated her dark eyes. A man could drown in those pools.
“Honestly, I think getting shot may have been the best thing that ever happened to him.”
She tipped her head to the side. “In what way?”
His buddy sounded like a new man when Jason spoke with him yesterday. The upbeat tone in his friend’s voice still gave Jason a lift. “He’s entered a program.”
Cara’s smile shone in the light. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Which one?”
“Gambler’s Anonymous.”
“That’s a good start, but he’ll need more.”
Cara’s comment jolted him. He thought Garrett was over the hump by enrolling in GA. “Like what?”
“Gambler’s Anonymous has a lower recovery rate than Alcoholics Anonymous. He’s going to need a family member to join, too.”
Cara’s deadpan delivery of this information was a sucker punch to the gut. He fought to hide his reaction. Cara’s eyes were big brown microscopes, and he was an earthworm pinned open. Damn, Cara was cute in high school in science class. All that long hair falling over the microscope. If he’d cared about learning anything, he would have objected. Instead he alternated between admiring her silky dark hair and guarding his turf. Plenty of other guys had the hots for Cara, flirting with her by her locker, smiling and being too friendly as they passed in the hall, offering to carry her books… It had been a constant battle. The worst hassle was guys who took advantage of the fact that Jason was busy during baseball games. It was all he could do to concentrate on the game instead of checking who was sitting by her in the stands. Fighting the urge to check on Cara in the stands might have been what helped him learn the focus he needed for the majors.
This was about Garrett now. Cara had just thrown a curve ball. “Well…Garrett doesn’t have family.”
“He has you,” she said without hesitation. “The organization for loved ones of the gambler is called Gam-Anon.”
He’d known something like this was coming, but Cara’s words hit hard. Not that he wouldn’t do anything to help Garrett. But—Oh hell. “You’re saying I need to go to one of those groups.” It was a statement not a question and intended to buy him some time to get his head around the notion. He pictured the AA meetings he’d seen depicted in movies and TV shows, but he had no personal experience. He’d be the one standing up and saying, what? “Hi, my name is Jason, and I’m the loved one of a gambler?” It would be ludicrous if it weren’t so damned important.
Kindness shone in Cara’s eyes and…admiration? “They may not have a group here, but he’s going to need support, Jase. A lot of support.”
“Garrett lives in Atlantic City.”
“Use the phone. Go to the meetings, if they have them here. Either way, go to one down there with him sometime.”
Her suggestion didn’t sound so bad, not compared to losing Garrett. Cara’s admiration didn’t hurt, either. “Compared to having Garrett move in, joining Gam-Anon to support him will be easy.”
She smiled. “And better. At least he doesn’t owe scary people money now, thanks to you.”
Cara’s rich chocolate voice soothed his tension, but he questioned her claim. Had he actually made a difference in Garrett’s life? The absolute chaos of the night in Atlantic City culminating in the gunshot wound was hardly the help Jason had planned. If he had made a difference, it was mostly accidental. At least joining a recovery group with Garrett had an orderly feel about it. He was glad there was something to turn to, a positive step to take. What would he have done if he’d brought Garrett home to Lobster Cove? Sat on him? He wasn’t equipped to deal with whatever drove his friend to such self-destructive lengths. He was no more equipped to deal with the underlying problem than he’d been as a kid.
Gratitude to Cara flowed through Jason. She should be in social services, not business. She smelled so good, too.
Shifting out of
his arms, Cara sighed. “Look at that view.”
He took her hand. “Beautiful.” Of course, he was referring to Cara, not the ocean.
They strolled back to his truck. He drove Cara home, escorting her to the door and holding himself to a goodnight kiss.
There, he thought, as he climbed back in the truck. That was a proper date. And he’d learned more about Cara, too. Perhaps more than she knew about herself…
****
“Honey, I hope this place can hold a candle to New York.” Lonnie settled into the front seat of the van in front of Harbor Manor. She touched her freshly done hairdo with manicured fingers.
Cara smiled, shook her head, and moved down the aisle to the back. She knew well enough the vibrant woman was thrilled to be going out tonight, even to a piano bar in a smallish town in Maine instead of a Broadway show in New York. Jason, who was helping her, caught her eye and winked. Not just the gesture, but…sharing this with him…knowing he liked Lonnie, was wonderful.
After finishing with Lonnie, he descended the van steps and strode to the car. Admiring the graceful yet powerful way he moved, she was tempted to pinch herself to see if she was really here with Jason Ward, the boy she’d known forever, the man she was only now getting to know.
He was becoming so fun. That dinner at Mariner’s was special. All week, as she’d gone about her work, she savored that belly laugh she’d pulled from him at Mariner’s Fish Fry when she stuck Mama’s pearl earring into the oyster.
Though not inspired by the task at hand, her smile was appropriate to the situation. She used it to put the residents at ease. For insurance purposes, Cara couldn’t ride with them, so she had to do all her reassuring ahead of time. She was pretty certain Harbor Manor didn’t take them for evening outings like this, and the situation could be unnerving even though exciting.
Earlier, Cara had been disheartened when she realized Sherry was too confused to join them tonight. Sherry having fun and being included in normal life was the whole purpose of the event. Had Cara misjudged Francie’s friend’s capabilities? Her certainty that she knew a thing or two about how the disabled should live faded along with the self-assurance underpinning her new plan about going into the assisted-living-facility business.
Cara’s self-confidence after learning Sherry couldn’t come was at a low right when she’d stepped out of The Circle. Seeing the six residents who trusted her enough to sign up getting into the van nearly sent her into a panic. What was she getting herself into? More importantly, what was she getting them into?
Instead of crumbling, she’d put on a happy face. This pretense carried her through greeting the residents. They were too focused on following the caregivers’ instructions to notice her much. Cara fell in behind them, and the combination of pretending to be confident and remembering her evening with Jason restored a good measure of enthusiasm.
She walked back up the aisle toward the door, saying a few words to Hugh, Nora, and Abner. She lingered by Yvette Purdy, who seemed the most nervous. She was clutching her purse, fingering its clasp. Her light brown eyes were big and round behind large glasses. Cara felt a twinge of concern.
“Good evening, Yvette. I’m so happy you’re coming.” Actually, Cara was shocked Yvette Purdy had signed up, given her feelings on the matter.
Yvette sat up even more primly, which wouldn’t have seemed possible to Cara before she saw her do it. “I must, to make sure everyone behaves themselves.”
Cara suppressed a laugh. How was little Yvette going to control anybody? Then it dawned on her. Pretending she would be the moral police justified the outing for Yvette. A smile tugged at her mouth when Cara bounced out of the van. Yvette’s presence proved just how important, how enticing, and hopefully how fun, this event would be.
Jason, who was leaning over talking to Francie in the passenger seat of her car a moment ago, must have had one eye on the van. When her feet hit the ground, he was already striding her way. He offered his elbow. She was surprised by the old-fashioned manner. Who was this man, and what had he done to Jason Ward?
Despite the humor of the situation, her feelings were confused. She was an independent woman about to get her MBA and work for a “name” consulting firm, so why did it feel so good to cling to his arm as though she couldn’t maintain her balance well enough to walk across the parking lot?
They followed the van into town and parked behind Bob’s Piano Bar. They arrived in a group, which Cara didn’t like. Individual escorts would be a better transportation plan. Arranging to have residents driven by car would be more expensive, but would give them much more dignity. Arriving together in a van emblazoned with “Harbor Manor” implied these weren’t normal people. Cara disliked the separation from normal society, the stigma of being “institutionalized.”
Cara pushed these thoughts out of her mind and followed the group into the dark interior. The important thing was they were here. Cara and Jason helped everyone get settled at two tables in the bar. Hugh ordered drinks for himself and Lonnie. Francie ordered herself a gimlet and wiggled her shoulders defiantly at Jason, who was frowning.
“Is it okay for your mom to drink since the incident?” she whispered, out of sight of Francie.
“I don’t know. They said it was just a panic attack, and she’s not on new drugs, so…”
“I sure wouldn’t want to tell her she can’t!”
Jason grinned. “Neither would I.”
Cara spoke quietly with the caregivers, and they left. She would call them if she needed anything early, otherwise they would return at midnight.
After they walked into the venue, Cara and Jason sat at the table with Francie. That slight stab of regret at Sherry’s absence recurred. Cara glanced at Francie to see if she was feeling the same way. No. Francie was in her element! She was smiling and laughing…oh, and communicating with somebody across the bar. Cara couldn’t make out who it was because of the darkness. A drink was delivered. Francie had caught the eye of some gentleman in the crowd. Cara’s heart constricted as she remembered that mere days ago, she and Jason feared for Francie’s very life, and here she was enjoying herself and attracting some attention, too.
The performer returned from his break and started playing a peppy tune. Jason turned to her with a flash of white teeth that told her he was sharing the same good feeling about the evening. She would love to talk to him to find out if he noticed what was going on between his mother and an admirer in the bar, but she was too caught up in the music to go outside where they could talk.
The evening was supposed to be for the residents, but Cara found herself dancing in her chair and tapping her foot just like everyone else. It would appear that she, as much as the people she was trying to help, needed live music. Maybe live music was a fundamental and natural need.
Cara’s gaze swept across the faces of her charges. Nora watched the piano player, a smile curving her delicate mouth. Abner slapped his leg in time to the music. Lonnie shimmied to the tunes. Hugh, instead of trying to get his hands on Lonnie, was snapping his fingers to the beat.
They were just a bunch of regular people out having fun. And that concept—that the disabled were normal people with normal needs—was the basis of her business plan. She had always thought the simplicity of her plan was one of its greatest strengths, but suddenly the homey idea of a different kind of assisted-living facility struck her as out-of-step—not exactly the cutting-edge concept expected for a newly minted MBA.
Lonnie’s dance grace was evident even from her chair. She turned to Hugh and spoke into his ear. Hugh stood and offered his hand. Lonnie accepted, and the two of them made their way to the tiny dance floor in front of the stage. Wow, Hugh could dance! Just then she noticed that Lonnie’s seemingly demure long skirt was slit up the side almost to her hip. When she twirled, you could see her long showgirl’s leg go all the way up.
Cara turned to find Jason grinning at her. He winked. Perhaps she could get away now, with everybody obviously enjoying the evening
. She stood and came around past Francie, who totally ignored her as she flirted with the mystery man across the bar.
Cara reached Jason and pointed discreetly at the door. When he shoved back his chair and stood, she led the way from the bar. She opened the back door and stepped onto the landing, gulping a cool salty breeze. Bar Harbor did have a lot more to offer as a location for an assisted living facility than Lobster Cove, but its resources would be within easy reach of residents of a small group home in Lobster Cove.
“Tonight is a success, don’t you think?” Jason leaned over the railing and peered into the shadows before returning his attention to her.
“I’m really happy.”
The hint of a smile played, erasing some of the tension in his protective expression. “So, what’s up?” He glanced at the street.
Should she really be drawing attention to whatever was going on with Francie? What kind of a bestie would she be talking about Francie behind her back with Jason, even though the idea had seemed benign when it occurred to her? She would have to fight the impulse to treat the residents in a patronizing manner. If she were capable of slipping into that kind of thought pattern, how would she train staff to treat the residents as grown-ups? Maybe every assisted-living facility started with lofty goals but then slid into institutionalization.
Her confidence fizzled. Of course she couldn’t pull it off. The last two weeks, toiling at Captain’s Library on her new business plan, she had been leading with her heart, wanting to come up with a great place for everybody she loved, to mix this dream with her business degree. But hers wasn’t a truly unique idea. The plan hinged on differentiation, and what made hers different was vague. Forget about not getting funding for it, she no longer even believed the idea would be strong enough for her to pass the program. Maybe she’d better go back to her original idea. But the VC personality matching idea seemed so cold now. Looking down the quiet street, Cara’s heart sank to her toes.
Third Strike's the Charm Page 9