by Ava Miles
“She’s wonderful, Shawn.” She handed him a clean napkin when he sniffed. “You really got lucky with her.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said. “Well, now that we’ve both cried over your supper like two stubborn old people, what do you say we start anew? I’d like you and Arthur to come visit us in Napa when you have time. Of course, I know our children are probably more fun to be around, but I’ve been known to show people a good time.”
“I remember when you took me to see that artist’s fair in San Francisco when I visited you last.” The day had been awash in vibrant paintings and the sweet thrill of an older sister spending time with a younger brother. “It was one of the happiest days of my life.”
“Mine too,” he said. “Do you remember the painting you encouraged me to buy that day?”
“Of course! The seaside one with the boat at full sail. It was beautiful.”
“I have it in my office.” He hung his head and sniffed again. “It was my way of remembering you.”
Her heart clutched, simply clutched. “And I have the turquoise bracelet you bought me. I’m glad you came, Shawn.”
“Me too. Haven’t been this nervous since Assumpta went into labor with Connor.” He laughed. “I was glad to hear you still have Hargreaves. The children have been telling me great stories about him. He seems not to have changed.”
“I’ll always have Hargreaves,” she said, straightening her spine. “We couldn’t manage without each other. Arthur won’t admit it yet, but he’s coming to enjoy having him around too.”
“Michaela told me he’s teaching Beau Masters to play flamenco guitar,” Shawn said. “Is there anything the man can’t do? Dad gave you a true gift when he said he’d give you a butler for your birthday. At the time, I thought he was crazy.”
But somehow their father had known what she needed, and she would always be grateful for that. His gesture had made her feel she mattered to him. She’d have to tell Caitlyn later. “So, besides seeing me, are you here to check up on Caitlyn? You should know she’s in love with Beau, and he’s a good man. Has had a hard time for reasons he may or may not share with you, but don’t be too concerned. He’s won Arthur over, and that’s no piece of cake.”
“Don’t I know it,” Shawn said, chuckling. “I’m glad to see his no-bullshit policy is as cast iron as ever.”
“It’s one of the reasons I love him.” She glanced toward the doorway. He was going to receive a lot of kisses tonight for his role in pushing her and Shawn into this overdue conversation.
“You’re lucky too,” Shawn said. “Finding Arthur again after so many years.”
She snorted. “I can let go of my stubbornness too, it seems. Mostly. Of course, he did his part. But yes, I’m very lucky.”
He stood. “Shall we join the others?”
When he held out his hand, she took it, tears blurring her eyes again. “Oh, darn it all, Shawn. I need to hug you.”
She put her arms around him. For a moment, she could feel the shock run through his body, but then his arms banded around her in a tight hug, one reminiscent of the adoring younger brother he’d once been. They held each other for a long moment, and time seemed to merge between the happy young siblings they’d been to the mature adults they were now. Yes, she thought, everything was falling into place, like new parts in a treasured old watch, better oiled yet still familiar.
“Whatever are you thinking?” he asked as he patted her on the back one last time before letting her go.
She smiled, resisting the urge to pinch his cheek. “That we’re a lot like an old watch.”
He laughed and took her elbow, leading her to the doorway. “Speak for yourself. I’m not old. I’m seasoned.”
“I’m happy to hear you don’t believe you’re old, Shawn.” She slid her hand through the crook of his arm. “It’s like I keep telling Arthur. I plan to live to one hundred or more, and he’s going to match me and then some.”
She stopped and faced him. He cocked his head to the side.
“Would you like to live that long too? Because I would really like to spend a few decades getting to know my brother again.”
His mouth tipped up. “Dammit, Clara. Yes, I sure as hell would.”
She smiled, feeling lighter than she had in years. “Now all I have to do is convince Hargreaves.”
That made Shawn laugh, and she joined in. My, how she had missed his baritone laughter, but that was all in the past now.
They were going to laugh their hearts out if she wasn’t Clara Merriam Hale.
* * *
“Daddy!”
The word was out of Caitlyn’s mouth before she could stop herself. When was the last time she’d called him that? But there he was, sitting between Aunt Clara and Michaela on the sofa in the main living room of the farmhouse with a brandy in his hand. Uncle Arthur and Ibrahim sat in adjoining chairs.
She glanced around for her mom, expecting her parents had come together, but there was no sign of her. What in the world?
Michaela ran over and hugged her. “Dad wanted to come and make it a surprise. And boy, it’s been nothing but. Mom must be laughing at home because I know she stayed back on purpose.”
And her mother hadn’t said a word about any of it when they’d talked on the phone.
Michaela turned to Beau. “It’s good to finally meet you. You’ll forgive me if I have a bit of a moment. I love your music, so it’s totally awesome that you’re doing Caitlyn’s perfume! Oh, and your new look?” She whistled, making everyone look over at them. “Where’s the cowboy hat? ’Cause I have to see the cowboy hat. I’m Michaela, by the way.”
Beau laughed, rubbing his cheek. “The hat is upstairs. Nice to meet you, Michaela. Your sister has told me a lot about you.”
She shot Caitlyn a look. “All good, I’m sure. Come meet our dad. He up and jumped on the plane with me.”
Her father rose from the sofa and was already extending his hand to Beau. “Shawn Merriam. It’s good to meet you, Beau.”
“You too, sir,” he said, clearing his throat. “If we’d known you’d be here tonight, we’d have cut our evening short.”
They’d lingered over dessert and then strolled through the quiet streets, the soft golden light washing over them. Of course, Beau had talked her into a shadowy side street, and they’d gotten to kissing. Mercy, it had been tempting to have sex right there on the street, but that was too racy for either of them, New Beau notwithstanding.
Her cheeks flamed. Sex! Beau! He’d moved into her room after her talk with Aunt Clara. But now her dad was here…
“Caitlyn,” her dad said, pulling her into a hug. His embrace was warm and soft, completely unlike him. She glanced over at Aunt Clara, who was smiling from ear to ear. Had they finally reconciled? She needed to know what she was dealing with.
“Hi, Dad,” she said when he finally released her. “What a wonderful surprise. You should have told me you were coming.”
“I so rarely get to surprise any of you kids on my own, and your mother thought it a good idea,” he said, unbuttoning his jacket and taking a good look at her and Beau. “Besides, I wanted to see your new enterprise up close and personal. From what Ibrahim tells me, you’ve been doing great work here.”
She glanced over at the Perfume Jedi, and he lifted his brandy snifter in her direction. Nerves still raced through her, but she made her mouth form a smile. It struck her that the room-sharing situation wasn’t the only problem. Quinn had been on her case about that contract from day one. Did her dad know about that somehow? And what exactly was her mom up to? “Yes, but mostly Ibrahim. He’s the master here.”
“Beau’s last name is Masters,” Michaela said, her mouth smirking. “How many masters does it take to change a lightbulb, do you think?”
“More than the brain cells you have firing right now, child,” Uncle Arthur said. “Caitlyn, why don’t you let Michaela show you what bottles we have open tonight? And take Beau with you since he’s drinking now.”
She knew a reprieve when she heard one. “Great idea! Come on, Mickey.”
“Don’t call me that,” her sister said.
They walked to the kitchen, and Caitlyn pounced. “How could you not tell me he was coming? Why is he here?”
Her sister held out her hands. “I can’t tell you with a hundred percent certainty, but he and Aunt Clara have made up. That might be one reason. You are likely the other. I doubt he came just to spend time with me. Do you have any idea how hard it was to spend hours alone with Dad? I didn’t know what to talk about. I want to kill Mom.”
“If this is his post-retirement reconnecting phase, we’re all in trouble,” Caitlyn breathed out. “Although I’m so happy to hear he and Aunt Clara made up.”
“Uncle Arthur pretty much laid the law down and told them to work it out. I about fell out of my chair when they came out of the dining room smiling, arm in arm. Uncle Arthur has been smirking all night.”
She caught Beau smiling at that. Dear Uncle Arthur. “So Quinn didn’t send Dad to check up on me?”
Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t think so.”
Relief swept through her, but they still had to deal with their living situation. One more to go. “Beau, we need to move you out of my room. My dad—”
“I was just thinking about that.” He cleared his throat. “Give me—”
“No need to do that on my account,” she heard her father say from the doorway. “And Caitlyn, I’m not your brother’s messenger boy. I would have thought you knew me better than that. Appears your mother was right.”
Looking up, she was sure her mouth was frozen in a silent scream. He’d heard all that? “Dad, you were supposed to stay…”
He snorted. “Like I didn’t raise seven kids. I know a powwow when I see it. Clara suggested I come in and tell you there was no need to hustle Beau out of your room.”
“I thought it might make you uncomfortable.”
His crossed his arms. “No, honey, you’re the one all nervous here. You kids are all adults now, something your mother has been telling me for years. We know you have relationships.”
“Is that what we’re calling Flynn’s?” Michaela quipped. “Oh, excuse me. Dad, you were saying.”
His lips twitched. “When you’re finish talking, come back and join the party. We have a lot to celebrate. I suppose Mickey told you Clara and I have officially buried the hatchet.”
“I didn’t see one on the way in,” Caitlyn said, making him laugh.
He waved a hand. “You’re just like your mother. Always joking when you’re nervous. Don’t be long.” With that, he turned and walked out.
Michaela whistled again, but this time it was more shrill. “Dad is even scarier now that he’s retired. Do you think he heard what I said about spending time alone with him on the plane?”
She was in too much shock to do more than nod.
“Great. Mom must be falling over herself, knowing what this is doing to us.”
Their mother did have a quirky sense of humor at times—apparently something they shared with her.
Beau shifted on his feet. “Ahem… We should probably pour ourselves a beverage and join the others. Unless you two need more time in here.”
“Nope,” Michaela said. “I’m good. Caitlyn?”
“Still in shock, I think, although that might never ease.”
Beau walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. After a moment, he pulled out the open bottle of champagne, a sterling silver spoon in the mouth—an old French technique that worked to keep the bubbles fresh. “Let’s all settle down. You should be happy your daddy came to visit.”
She looked over at him. “Of course I’m happy. It’s just…a shock. Dad never does things like this without Mom.”
“Mom is the best buffer in the world,” Michaela said. “Dad can be pretty intimidating. Like Con and Quinn. Wait until you meet them, Beau.”
But Dad wasn’t acting intimidating now, Caitlyn realized. Not with her or Beau or their sharing a room situation. “Perhaps Dad is changing now that he’s not working all the time. Maybe that’s what Mom wants us to see.” She couldn’t imagine it though.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Michaela said, bringing over three champagne glasses. “It really is great to meet you, Beau. Would you sing for me sometime?”
He smiled. “I figure you and your dad’s arrival is perfect for one of my new songs. If you’ll pour the champagne and bring mine out, I’ll grab my guitar.”
When she and Michaela were alone, her sister grabbed her by the upper arms. “He’s going to sing!”
Her excitement was contagious. He’d never performed for anyone since arriving. Sure, he’d sing snatches of songs to her or sometimes play a little guitar, but this felt different. He was making a statement.
“Let’s get out there then,” she told Michaela, pouring the champagne herself.
“I want a front row seat,” her sister said, following her back into the living room.
Conversation halted, and Caitlyn forced a smile. “Beau is going to play one of his new songs for us.”
Michaela raised her glass, spilling some of her champagne in her exuberance. “I requested it.”
“Come sit by me, Caitlyn,” Aunt Clara said, holding out her hand.
“I’ll sit on the floor,” Michaela said, dropping into Lotus pose.
“Even if I could get my legs crossed like that, I wouldn’t be able to feel them after a minute,” Uncle Arthur said as Beau returned with his guitar. “Beau, grab your glass. We’re going to have a toast before you sing.”
Caitlyn realized she was still holding his champagne and walked over to him. His face was stained a bright red, so she knew whatever point he was making was important. “Thanks, honey,” he said, soft enough so only she could hear.
“To family and new friends,” her uncle said.
Everyone lifted their glasses, and Caitlyn clicked her glass with Beau’s. It seemed appropriate that they should celebrate such a big moment. He’d just met more of her family, her father specifically. This was a big deal!
“Go on and sit,” he told her after taking a sip and then setting his glass on one of the side tables. “This is one of my new songs, one I just finished yesterday. I was having all sorts of writer’s block before I came here. But then everything opened, and it’s because of that beautiful woman over there and this beautiful place we have here. It’s called ‘Sunshine in Her Eyes.’ I hope you like it because it’s dedicated to Caitlyn, who I owe so very much to.”
Oh, Beau. Their eyes met, and his smile seemed to fill every chamber in her heart with sunlight. She knew why he’d chosen to play this song for her family. It was a public declaration of his love for her, much like the way he’d taken her hand in front of his fans at the restaurant, she realized. Her eyes filled, and she lowered her glass of champagne to her lap as he started to strum his guitar, the delicate opening chords changing to something more charged.
She was more than a breath of fresh air.
She was a hurricane coming in off the Gulf.
The cloth of her sexy blue dress moved with her,
As if storm winds stirred around her.
She was young and beautiful,
And she spoke with the full force of her heart.
She talked about women picking flowers,
Their babies resting on blankets beside them.
When she came out of her shoe,
And I bent down to help,
Her arch seemed like a long road I’d traveled,
One I’d been on too long alone.
She’s the one I’ve been waiting for my whole life,
My very own kindred spirit.
When I look at her, I see sunshine in her eyes.
Sunshine in her eyes.
Even that sunshine in her eyes can make the flowers grow.
But she isn’t only sunshine.
She’s moonlight.
And every kind of light
in between.
She fills up all the dark places.
Helps me see the truth.
Her light has changed me.
And I hope it rains on me for the rest of my life.
That girl with the dark brown hair,
The one with sunshine in her eyes.
Sunshine in her eyes.
When he finished, he simply stood there in front of her family. Caitlyn started to clap, and others joined in, but she couldn’t look away from him. “I love you,” she mouthed to him, wiping away the tears streaming down her face when he nodded, clearing his throat.
Someone grabbed hold of her hand. It was her dad, and she lifted her head. He was staring at her, and were those tears in his eyes?
“I’m so happy for you, Caity girl,” her dad said. “I can’t wait to tell your mother.”
Someone whistled. Michaela, of course. “Bravo, Beau.”
“You sure as hell seem to be done with writer’s block, Beau,” her uncle said as the clapping died down. “Nice song.”
Michaela stood up, sipping her champagne. “I’d love it even if she wasn’t my sister. What else do you have?”
Beau laughed. “Are you always this enthusiastic?”
“Yes!” Caitlyn and her dad cried out.
“Now I know why Chou-Chou follows you around everywhere, Beau,” Aunt Clara said. “That baby goat loves a good love song.”
“Baby goat?” her dad asked.
“You’ll meet him tomorrow,” her aunt said. “What does our Perfume Jedi think?”
Leave it to Aunt Clara to be straightforward about something like that.
“I’d say you have the perfect song,” Ibrahim said. “I loved the line about truth.”
“Like you said, Ibrahim,” Beau said, “it’s certainly the most prized quality in a perfume—or a song.”
The perfumer gave him a mysterious smile. “Come visit me tomorrow in the lab. I have a new question for you.”