September Canvas

by Gun Brooke

  “Dead sure.”

  “Well, then, we’re on a roll. Ciao.” A definite click ended the call and Faythe shook her head. Suzy could be as exasperating as she was efficient, but under her gruff exterior, she was as loyal as they came.

  Faythe’s mind whirled back to her dinner with Deanna as she steamed the milk for her espresso. Every time she took a break during her marathon writing exercise, she’d thought of her enigmatic, gorgeous neighbor.

  Out on the patio she started the hot tub she’d filled yesterday and watched the jets create whirls everywhere. She could sort her jumbled thoughts a lot better if she had a good soak. Inside, she switched into her black swimsuit, tugged her hair back into a ponytail, and grabbed a bath towel. Tiptoeing across the deck, she dropped the towel on a chair before she slipped into the busy water. It was almost too hot, but the chilly autumn air cooled her neck and shoulders as she sat up a little, making it bearable.

  As usual, the hypnotic massage of the hot tub sent her thoughts scurrying and she sorted them into clearer paths. Why had Kitty-with-a-heart, the woman working at the supermarket, warned her about Deanna and called her that woman? And why did Deanna act so strange when Faythe mentioned her trip into town? Something really weird was going on.

  Deanna knows what they say about her. Well, how could she not know? Faythe leaned back and watched some leaves break from the maples nearest the house and ride the faint breeze. Deanna had probably saved Faythe’s life when she helped her to shore last week. She’d risked her life by swimming in the cold water to assist a total stranger. What contemptible person would do such a thing? It didn’t make sense.

  The drawing Deanna had made of her was probably the truest glimpse into Deanna’s character she had ever seen. How had Deanna pulled it off, since she really didn’t know Faythe? She had depicted Faythe the way nobody had seen her, or wanted to see her, in years.

  “That looks comfortable.”

  Was the husky voice a memory? She was focusing so hard on figuring out Deanna’s mystery… A quick glance to her left showed the outline of her neighbor as she approached the Jacuzzi. “Deanna.” Faythe sat up.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” Deanna shuffled her feet and shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “I haven’t seen you around and thought I’d…eh…thank you for dinner. I didn’t intend to be impolite. I’ve been busy with a deadline.”

  “Oh, yeah? Another book?”

  “Yes. A children’s book. Bunny Buttercup.”

  “Oh. Really. It sounds adorable. I’ve heard about the author. Wasn’t it shortlisted for an award?”

  “Yes. It didn’t win, but it gained a lot of attention and has done well.” Deanna looked preoccupied.

  “I’m happy for you.” Faythe felt unusually shy, but wasn’t about to let the awkwardness stop her. “Want to join me?” The words left her lips before she knew what she meant to say.

  “What? Oh, no. That’s all right. I should get back to work. Would you like to go on a more reliable boat trip on the lake with me?”

  “I’d love to.” The heat from the water must have caused the hot flush up her neck and cheeks. “When did you have in mind?”

  “Early tomorrow, in my canoe. I usually take my camera and stay a few hours.”

  “I haven’t paddled a canoe since I was twelve and at summer camp, but I think I remember how.” Faythe laughed. “At least I know better than two friends there who always insisted on facing each other while they paddled, which didn’t work so well.”

  “You’re kidding.” Deanna’s deliciously throaty laugh made Faythe’s nipples harden despite the hot water. Displaying even white teeth, Deanna gave a broad smile that transformed her strong features into sheer beauty, and Faythe softened inside. Kitty-with-a-heart’s comments seemed ridiculous and petty, and Faythe couldn’t wait to get to know Deanne better.

  “Seven too early?”

  “No. I’m used to getting up at four, so seven is fine.” Faythe stood up in the hot tub without thinking, but Deanna’s roaming eyes made her want to sit down just as quickly. Not wanting to seem even more conspicuous, though, Faythe climbed out of the tub and reached for her towel. “I’m turning into a prune.”

  “All right. See you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll make us breakfast to take along.” Backing up so fast she nearly hit the railing behind her, Deanna nodded. “Sounds good. Bye.” She disappeared along the path and through the trees, and only when Faythe began to shiver did she realize she’d forgotten to wrap the towel around her. Groaning at herself, she hurried inside and headed for the shower to wash her hair.

  When was the last time her heart fluttered the way it did now? She glanced at the mirror as she squirmed out of her swimsuit. Even her chest looked flushed. In the shower she tried to let the water rinse the heated thoughts from her mind.

  Chapter Seven

  Sitting behind Faythe in the canoe enhanced Deanna’s experience of the lake’s mirrorlike surface. The birds seemed in awe too; not even the autumn leaves stirred. The air was crisp, but not cool enough to turn their breath into mist, and Deanna realized that the uncommon feeling inside her was peace. Short-lived, it evaporated as soon as Faythe turned and smiled at her. That smile had haunted Deanna for days.

  “Beautiful doesn’t quite cut it, does it?” Faythe looked reverently at her. “I can’t describe how this makes me feel. How can I ever go back to Manhattan?”

  “I could never live too far away from nature.”

  “Were you born here? In Grantville, I mean?”

  “No, I’m from Montpellier.”

  “City girl? I’d never have guessed.”

  “I’m that unsophisticated?” Deanna raised an eyebrow, delighted when Faythe blushed.

  “No. I meant you so clearly appreciate living among…this.”

  “Actually, I lived a very average suburban life.”

  “And how did you end up here?”

  “Oh, life.” Deanna thought of Miranda, how their mother’s betrayal and altered loyalties had forced this situation upon them. “Just happenstance, really.”

  “That’s not uncommon. Nothing happenstance ever had the chance to enter my life. Once I left college, I was on the fast track in the media business. The speed blinded me. I thought I was living my dream, maybe because everyone else took that for granted.”

  “I can see how that might confuse a person.” Faythe turned forward and continued to paddle with long, slow strokes. “The term ‘finding yourself’ is a cliché, but trust me, that’s why I’m here. I lost sight of what I wanted. Some days I lost sight of me.” Faythe’s sorrowful laugh tore at Deanna.

  “I hope you do find yourself. Really.”

  “Me too.”

  They paddled along the narrow part of the lake in silence, and Deanna relaxed again, blocking thoughts of her mother and other unhappy parts of her life to focus on the rising sun’s rays that played with the highlights in Faythe’s hair. She wore it in a low ponytail with a Tilley hat hanging on her back. Dressed in jeans and a red windbreaker jacket, and devoid of makeup, she looked years younger than during dinner a week ago.

  Deanna itched to draw her again and looked with longing at the backpack at her feet. She always carried some basic art supplies and sketch pads, as well as a set of dry clothes in a sealed bag, a first-aid kit, a thermos of coffee, and some sandwiches. Faythe had been smart enough to bring something to eat and spare clothes as well.

  “A log coming toward us,” Faythe said. “Left or right?”

  “Right.” Deanna guided them around the trunk, which floated slowly with the current as several birds sat on top of it and groomed themselves. Their ruffled feathers and beady eyes pleased her.

  Faythe glanced over her shoulder again. “Any particular goal in mind, or do we just paddle until we see a place we like?”

  “Let’s keep going a while longer, unless you’re sore. I know some pretty spots about half an hour upstream.”

  “I’m ok
ay. I may be a city girl, but I work out.” Faythe grinned and kept paddling.

  “I could tell the other day.”

  “What? How?”

  Deanna cursed inwardly for speaking without thinking. Visions of lean muscles playing under soft, pale skin surfaced instantly, no matter how she tried to suppress them. “I…I just noticed when you…I mean, when you used my shower after the rowboat sank.” That sounded even worse. Deanna kept paddling, hoping the moment of awkwardness would vanish.

  “Wow, I’m glad you noticed. I certainly appreciated your strength when you towed me through the water.” Faythe wrinkled her nose.

  “Something tells me you’re not much for gyms, though. You’re in good shape because you’re the outdoorsy type. Am I right or am I right?”

  “You’re right.” Deanna was relieved at Faythe’s good-natured response. It was amazing to be around someone who wasn’t suspicious or judgmental, and even if a small voice in the back of her mind reminded Deanna to be careful, not to read too much into Faythe’s sweetness, it pulled her in, like a wasp to strawberry shortcake. “I don’t do gyms, but I take long walks, paddle the canoe, and chop my own wood in the winter.”

  “Thought as much. Perhaps you could show me how to chop wood? I’m staying at least three months. That’s what it should take, minimum, to ‘find myself.’”

  Deanna’s heart twirled. “Three months. That’s almost till Christmas.”

  “Yeah. If Aunt Nellie is coming here for the holidays, I might even spend them at the cabin. Who knows? My parents always start bickering about where I should spend Christmas or New Year, and I’d rather skip their massive parties.“

  “Your aunt is a nice person. I’ve talked to her briefly and appreciate her kindness.”

  “She’s the sanest one in my family, trust me.”

  “Including you?” Faythe seemed completely sane and very nice.

  “Hmm. Don’t know. I guess I’m all right, but Nellie is so much wiser. She has it all together, you know?” Faythe’s tone sounded longing, tinged with distress.

  “She’s older.” Deanna knew her comment sounded a bit lame but wanted to reassure Faythe. “For what it’s worth, stepping off the carousel to follow your heart when you’re on the fast track to fame and fortune says a lot.”

  “It does?” Faythe’s shoulders relaxed visibly. “I thought it spoke volumes about how indecisive and confused I am.”

  “We all become confused. You’ve got enough courage to act, and you will get un-confused soon enough.”

  Faythe’s laugh carried over the lake and stirred up a flock of birds on the other shore. “Thanks. You’re good for my self-esteem.”

  “Glad to hear that.” Deanna had been mysteriously upset when she sensed pain in Faythe, and comforting her warmed her belly. Deanna cleared her throat and glanced to the right. “How about over there?

  That’s a gorgeous spot and easy to pull the canoe ashore.”

  “Beautiful. Let’s get going. I’m starving.” Deanna’s broad, rare smile stretched unfamiliar muscles. “Me too.”

  * * *

  Faythe leaned back on one elbow and sipped her coffee. The caffeine seemed to diffuse directly into her veins and rejuvenated her. Or perhaps it was the fresh air, she mused, but changed her mind.

  Usually the crisp air made her go to sleep. She looked around the area Deanna had chosen for them to enjoy their breakfast.

  “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” Faythe murmured. “I truly enjoy the scenery once I do get outside.”

  “Guess Central Park isn’t exactly outdoors.”

  “Not exactly, even though I love jogging there every morning. I try to go super early, though, which is a bummer since I love to sleep in.” Faythe shifted her gaze to Deanna, who lay on her side in a position that mirrored her own. “How about you?”

  “I’m a night owl. I can stay up so late it’s early morning before I go to bed. Guess that spills over to being a morning person. I don’t sleep much.”

  Faythe knew from Deanna’s sad tone that this wasn’t a subject she should pursue. Deanna moved forward enough for her black hair to cover her face, a familiar gesture. But why did she hide?

  “I change depending on my mood,” Faythe said casually. “If I’m swamped with work and running in circles, I’m grumpy in the morning. If I’m doing something interesting, even if it’s stressful, I’m annoyingly cheerful, according to my colleagues.”

  Deanna’s hair fell back over her shoulders and she grinned.

  “Annoyingly cheerful? Really. I’m trying to picture that, but I can’t.”

  “Oh, I can get overenthusiastic. I’m like a dog with a bone. Once I’m excited about a project I never let go until I’ve sorted everything out, unraveled every part of the mystery, no matter what it is.” Deanna’s expression became somber, and Faythe realized she’d stepped into a minefield.

  “Guess that’s the mark of a good reporter.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “To keep digging.”

  “To find the truth.” Faythe finished her coffee and placed the mug in her backpack. “ That’s the reporter’s job. No, their duty. To find the truth and report it to the public.”

  “No matter whom it hurts. No matter if the truth is not what it seems.” Rigid, her eyes cold, Deanna gripped her mug with a white-knuckled hand.

  Faythe refused to take the bait and spoke softly. “Someone hurt you?” She didn’t want to add to Deanna’s pain, but she refused to accept responsibility for what someone else had done. “A reporter printed something that wasn’t true?”

  “Not exactly. Anyway, it’s ancient history.” Deanna jerked her shoulders again in what looked like her trademark way of dismissing a topic. “Forget about it.”

  “It’s a little hard when you obviously expect me to turn on you and do the same. Look, you don’t know me, but I don’t know you either.” Faythe tucked a few errant strands behind her ear. “And I promise, I’m not here on this gorgeous morning to dig up some dirt on you. I’m on vacation.”

  Deanna’s taut body relaxed marginally. “Guess I’m a bit paranoid.”

  “You might have every reason, I don’t know, but not with me.” Faythe didn’t know how else to reassure Deanna. But the advice from the woman in the grocery store and Deanna’s aversion to reporters tickled Faythe’s curiosity. She wanted to ask Deanna about the warning but couldn’t, especially after assuring her she wasn’t there to pry. She would have to be patient.

  “All right. It’s not fair to be so secretive and expect you to walk on eggshells, but I’ve been burned and I have to be careful.” Deanna rose to her knees and packed the leftovers of their breakfast without asking if Faythe was ready. “I’m simply not used to socializing, which shouldn’t surprise you.”

  Faythe decided to be honest. She might burn her bridges, but she refused to bend over backward to accommodate anyone, not even Deanna. “Here’s what I know.” Faythe took Deanna’s hand, making her stop brushing breadcrumbs off the blanket. “That woman in town, Kitty-something, said I should stay clear of you. She didn’t give me any details, and she seemed genuinely concerned. I figured if you were an ax murderer, you’d be locked up. But I don’t let anyone sway my opinion or determine my friends.”

  “I see.” Deanna squeezed her hand, her voice a whisper. “And I’m not what they say I am.”

  Chapter Eight

  Deanna paddled the last few yards and jumped up to pull the canoe ashore. She wished she hadn’t asked Faythe to join her and knew the jerky movements of her hands betrayed her feelings as she helped Faythe onto the grassy slope. Why did she let Faythe draw her into a conversation that opened doors that should stay closed? And she was furious that she couldn’t find a single harmless topic to break the silence on their way back. “I’m not what they say I am.” Faythe would surely ask follow-up questions, especially after Deanna said, “It’s nothing. Nothing I want to talk to you or anyone else about. This was a mistake. Let’s go home.”
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  Faythe had stared at her with her beautiful green eyes, and if Deanna had read any sort of accusation in them, she could have used her pent-up anger and resentment to write her off. Instead, Faythe’s eyes held equal parts pain and compassion, and the sight killed her. Once Faythe became more familiar with Grantville and its townspeople, this compassion would turn to dismay.

  “Deanna…” Faythe stood rigid, clinging to her backpack. “Deanna, please. I don’t know what I did, or said, that made you so angry, but no matter what it was, I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to.”

  “Not your fault. I’m not good with people. Or around people. The fact that I work from home and live out by the lake by myself should tell you something.” It hurt to speak. Her vocal cords felt as stiff as the rest of her body.

  “I wasn’t prying. I thought we were getting to know each other.” Faythe took a deep breath and stepped closer. “Please.” Deanna hated her own weakness, which twisted her throat into a hard knot. She swallowed repeatedly to avoid the treacherous tears, searching for the anger and resentment that had saved her so often.

  Instead, something inside her softened. She didn’t know if it was because of Faythe’s gentleness or because of the undeniable attraction.

  For heaven’s sake! Am I getting totally spineless because of some damn onslaught of hormones?

  Faythe fiddled with the drawstring in her windbreaker. “Can’t we beach the canoe and talk?”

  “I don’t have anything else to say.” Deanna meant to sound dismissive, but instead the words came out as a husky whisper. “You don’t know me. You don’t want to know me. Take my word for it.”

  “No. I’ve done the ‘right’ thing for ten years and followed all the good advice the well-meaning people around me have dished out. Look where that’s gotten me. Stuck in a media circus doing news stories about everything from juggling poodles to the best freaking treatment for athlete’s foot.” Faythe gestured emphatically.