by Judy Baer
The butterfly garden is one of Dash’s favorite places. He sits on his haunches and stares unflinchingly as butterflies alight on the flowers. I wonder what he thinks as he sits there, mesmerized by the delicate winged creatures as they flutter around their chosen blooms.
Usually I can read Dash’s mind. There are several recurrent themes in his repertoire. These involve eating, licking, chewing, sniffing, running, playing and dreaming about wooden rabbits. He’s no Einstein but he is consistent.
As we sat in the sun watching the dip and flutter of the butterflies hovering over the garden, a lightbulb flashed on in my brain. I grabbed Dash’s snout and gave him a big kiss. “Dash, you are brilliant. Thanks for the idea.”
He looked at me as though I were one or two biscuits short of a box but stood up when I pulled on his leash.
Bugs, of course. What better lesson plan for little boys who would soon be completing a study of the solar system? We could study butterflies and the plants that attracted them, beetles (little boys love beetles) and, just for a touch of the gross and yucky that kids enjoy, a centipede and a cockroach or two.
I just love being a teacher.
I was wrapped up in the discovery that centipedes could have anywhere from fifty to two hundred legs and considered not answering the telephone when it rang. As usual, curiosity got the best of me in the end.
It was Ben, his voice high-pitched and excited, talking so fast I could barely understand him.
“Nathan and his mom and dad can’t so he gave them to me and my dad can and he told me I could invite a friend and I invite you.”
“Can and can’t what, Ben? I’m not following you.”
I heard him sigh with disgust and then “Here, Dad, you tell her. She doesn’t get it.”
Jack’s voice came on the line. He was laughing. “I can’t imagine how anyone could ‘get’ that garbled message. Hello, Quinn, how are you?”
“Just fine.” Now, at least, thanks to you.
“Linda just came over with three tickets to the circus. Apparently they are going out of town and won’t be able to use them. I told Ben I’d take him and any one of his friends as long as they minded their manners and didn’t get too rowdy. And the friend he’s picked is you. Please don’t feel like we’re stalking you, trying to take you every place we go, but Ben’s rather—” he lowered his voice “—infatuated with you.”
“As I am with him. He’s a darling boy, Jack. I’m flattered that he likes me, but don’t you think he’d have more fun with another ten-year-old?”
“Please come with us, please, please, please?” I heard in the background at Jack’s house.
“Not according to him. You’re his first, second and third picks.”
“How can a girl resist?”
So Ben sat between us with a box of popcorn, a huge plastic bag of cotton candy, a soda in a quart-sized glass and a monkey that bobbled on the end of a stick. On his head was a ringmaster’s hat. At a face-painting booth, he’d been made up to look like a white-faced clown. Now he sat staring intently at the high-wire act.
He turned to his father. “Can I sit down there, Dad? He pointed to an empty aisle seat four rows down. Just for a minute? I want to get closer.”
“Come back up here when this act is over.”
“Okay.” Ben jammed the hat more tightly onto his head, picked up his popcorn and made his way to the new seat.
“He’s limping a little,” I observed.
“A flare-up. He’s a trouper though.” Jack looked grim as he watched his son. “I wish I had his fighting spirit.”
“Are you sure you don’t?”
“My fighting spirit burned out, Quinn. Sometimes I wonder how I’ll keep it up for Ben, yet I have to put a smile on my face and be a positive force that keeps him going.”
He gazed blankly at the colorful arena filled with tumbling clowns, people flying through the air and trumpeting elephants. “Losing Emily really took it out of me, and now Ben needs me even more.”
Then Jack slapped the palms of his hands on the tops of his thighs and willed a smile onto his face. “We’re at the circus. You don’t need to listen to this. Let’s have fun.”
Although Ben managed to do so, Jack and I both sat for the rest of the afternoon under the cloudy sky of our conversation.
“Want to go to a fund-raiser with me?” Pete sounded excited. I held the telephone receiver away from my ear and looked at it in disbelief.
“Why? Aren’t you planning on bringing a beautiful girl who will look up at you and bat her eyelashes?”
“Very funny. I’m between girls right now and you know it. Besides, you’re beautiful. Just don’t bring your batty eyelashes anywhere near me.”
“What are we raising funds for?”
“To send disabled kids to summer camp, places where they can play baseball, swim, ride horses, that kind of stuff. I had a cousin who went to a camp for diabetic kids when he was young. He said those were some of the greatest times in his life because at camp he actually felt ‘normal.’ I wanted to be involved in the community somehow, so I started giving donations to the group. Tonight they are having their big fund-raiser of the year and I bought two tickets.”
“If you really mean it, I suppose I can come. Maggie is going for a massage this evening and won’t be home until late.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something fabulous. It’s black-tie.”
No pressure, I thought as I dressed. Pete sets a high standard. “Fabulous” cannot usually be pulled together in fifteen minutes.
“You look great, Quinn,” Maggie commented as she left the house at six forty-five in tattered jeans and a bleach-stained sweatshirt.
“So do you, although I can’t see why in that outfit. Most people would put it in the garbage. Casual suits you.”
“Good. Get used to it. Now that my modeling career is over, all I’ll be wearing is frayed jeans and thread-bare rags.”
“Glad you don’t like to exaggerate.”
Maggie smiled faintly, stepped back into the foyer and gave me a hug. “I love you, Quinn. You are the best friend a girl could ever have.”
“And the feeling is likewise. But you have to—”
“I know, I know. Snap out of this. Get back to work.” A shadow crossed her features. “I just can’t figure out how to do it this time. I’ve been down before, but this is different. My battery is dead, Quinn.”
Hers and Jack’s both, apparently. “Then you need a jump start, something different and exciting. I’m praying for that for you already.”
“Thanks, kiddo, you’re the best.” She glanced at her watch. “I’d better go. Have fun at the fund-raiser.”
When my quasi-date Pete came to the door to pick me up I gave him a once-over. “You are the most darling little penguin I have ever seen. Love the tux.”
He kissed me on the cheek. “I knew I was doing the right thing by asking you. Every former girlfriend of mine who is there will be slack jawed with envy when they see you. New dress?”
“This ol’ thang?” I spun for him to see the dress I’d been offered after a shoot. The lining had been ripped, one spaghetti strap had been damaged and it was a foot longer than anyone else could wear. I had volunteered to buy it. I grew up in 4-H. I can mend a dress with the best of them. I repaired the lining and replaced the missing strap with a string of pearls and, voilà, had a willowy black-sequined, pencil-thin dress that makes me look nine feet tall.
Until Pete invited me to the gala, I hadn’t paid much attention to the trumpeting and fanfare this particular event was garnering. I had noticed it mentioned in the paper several times, however, and when we got to the country club where it was being held, I revised my image of Pete’s idea of charity.
“This place is crawling with professional athletes, journalists and some of the Cities’ most successful people. Why didn’t you tell me?” I spoke through my teeth as I smiled and nodded while navigating a sea of glittery dresses and tuxedos.
“I did. You didn’t pay any attention. Did you think I’d ask you to a bake sale? This event brings in a lot of money for disabled and disadvantaged kids. It provides outlets for them through athletics and camping experiences. Cool, huh?”
Very cool. And it got cooler or maybe warmer, like my cheeks, when I saw Jack Harmon making his way toward us from across the room.
Pete’s gaze followed mine. “Who are you looking at…oh, hello, there. Good-looking guy, Quinn. Is he who I think he is?”
“He’s the father of one of my new students. Don’t jump to conclusions. You’ll hurt yourself.”
The pristine white of Jack’s shirt made his tanned skin even darker and the brown of his eyes more penetrating. Pete jabbed me in the ribs as if to say, Why didn’t you tell me you knew this guy?
Not that I would—or should—have. Jack and I were conducting business, not pleasure.
“I had no idea you’d be here tonight, Quinn. I’m delighted to see you.” Jack moved comfortably in the crowd as if he’d done it a million times before. The reserve I’d observed earlier seemed to have been banished for the night.
“Do you come to many of these?” I asked politely.
Pete gave a strangled cough. I turned to pound him on the back. His face was red with embarrassment.
“Quinn, this is the Jack Harmon! He used to play hockey with the U of M—a star forward. He’s been doing fund-raisers ever since. He’s done more good for kids’ sports in the last ten years than anyone else I know—programs for low-income families, kids with disabilities…” Pete pumped Jack’s hand with delight, obviously a fan.
“Quinn, Jack is the organizer of this evening. If you get this guy to back your charity you can count on a success.”
Jack reddened. “You give me too much credit.”
My stomach did flips and my heart thudded wildly. The man had many facets not revealed by building a volcano or scouring a museum.
“I’d like to stay and visit longer,” Jack said apologetically, “but there are a lot of people here that I need to greet. Perhaps we could get together again later? After dinner when things are winding up?”
“Sure, no problem.” Pete pumped Jack’s hand again. “Great to meet you. I had no idea my friend Quinn knew people in such high places.”
As he said it, he took a step to the right to dodge the elbow he knew I’d send his way. That almost made me tumble sideways and Jack reached out to steady me. His eyes glinted with amusement. “Later?”
“Sure.” Later.
After Jack was gone, Pete turned to me. “You mean you didn’t know? Jack Harmon is a very influential man in this community. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of him!”
“My friend Linda said he was athletic and had done some fund-raising. How was I to know?”
“I’m glad I got to meet him.” Pete still looked a little awestruck. “You said his son is ill and can’t play competitive sports. That must be tough for a guy like Jack. I’m sure he’d want to hand the torch on to his son.”
I hadn’t thought of that. My admiration for him grew.
Pete made an odd, strangling sound in his throat. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What are they doing here?”
Making their way through the crowd, I saw Eddie Bessett and a lovely young woman with light brown hair and green eyes. She was laughing and Eddie smiled down at her with benevolent affection.
“I suppose Eddie read about it in the paper and decided to contribute. It’s a good cause. I can’t believe I knew so little about it.” I stared at the woman on Eddie’s arm. “Is that his date? She’s lovely.”
The delicate beauty wore a gauzy taupe dress that, on anyone else, might have looked like rags. She wore it cinched high on her waist. The belt alone had no doubt cost hundreds of dollars. Her jewelry was stark, simple and elegant. She wore drop earrings made of brown gemstones and a ruby ring on her left hand. In a room full of expensive, stylish dresses, hers still stood out.
Pete made that sound again and he was pale as a sheet. “Are you okay, Pete? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
To my surprise he nodded in the affirmative. “I have. Eddie’s sister Kristy. The one I used to date. That’s who is with Eddie.”
I studied the girl carefully. So this was Pete’s love, the one he shouldn’t have left behind.
“There you are!” Eddie roared to Pete. “I’ve been hauling Kristy all over this joint looking for you. I wanted her to see once and for all that she didn’t miss a thing by not marrying you.” He turned to his sister and spoke cheerfully, as if Pete weren’t even there. “See? Nothing but the little twerp I always said he was.”
“Eddie!” Her voice was soft and musical, just as I had expected it to be. And the smile she turned on Pete could have melted steel. “Hi, Pete. Long time no see.”
Pete was having a hard time keeping his knees from buckling. I didn’t blame him. This lovely apparition appearing before my eyes was surprising enough. What must he be feeling?
“Kristy. You’re more beautiful than ever. I didn’t think it was possible.” Pete’s voice grew soft and intimate.
“Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s ancient history,” Eddie advised jovially. “Besides, he can’t even talk our first choice for hostess of Chrysalis into taking the job.” He turned to me. “Hello, Quinn. I’d like you to meet my sister.”
As we exchanged pleasantries, I marveled at Pete’s obscenely bad decision to not marry this girl. She is exquisite, funny and sweet and not in all the years I’ve known Pete have I ever seen him so moonstruck. I’m glad that he brought me and not someone he’s been dating to this gala. His poor date wouldn’t have had a chance.
A gentle gong rang out, signaling that the silent auction was wrapping up in another room and the mixer had come to an end.
I was surprised to see Jack Harmon hurrying toward me as we searched for our seats the vast room set with white linen, mirrored tiles and glittering candles.
“Quinn, I just got a call from a couple who is supposed to sit at my table. They have a sick child at home and are taking him to the emergency room. I thought perhaps you and Pete would like to join me up front.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s an unobstructed view of the stage.”
“We also have an extra seat,” Eddie volunteered. “Frank was supposed to come with us but he got tied up at the last minute. The seat next to Kristy is empty, as well. Too bad. I could have bought a condo in Maui for the price of these tickets.”
My brain kicked into high gear just as it had during a school trip in senior high when Pete had had a crush on the head cheerleader. No one had taken the seat next to hers on the school bus so I took matters into my own hands. Just as I’d shoved Pete into the seat next to Betsy Carmichael back than, I figuratively thrust him into the chair by Kristy now.
“Pete, why don’t you sit with Eddie and his sister and I’ll sit with Jack. I know the two of you have lots to catch up on.”
He stared at me as if he’d had a lobotomy.
I shoved him a little and he swayed. “Pete?”
He looked at Eddie’s sister and I saw a gooey, syrupy longing in his eyes that he usually saves for melted-in-the-middle chocolate cake or photos of baby greyhounds. “Don’t you want to?”
“I…ah…sure. Why not? If you don’t mind, Quinn. I don’t want to leave you….”
Of course he did. A choice between me and Eddie’s sister? No contest. Jack grabbed my arm. “Perfect. But I have to get up front. Come on, Quinn. We can meet these folks after the program for coffee.” And he towed me away much like Ben had tugged me around the museum.
Grinning to myself, I followed him, feeling rather smug that I’d helped Cupid deliver an arrow in Pete and Kristy’s direction.
Chapter Fifteen
What had I done? I wondered as Jack seated me at a table only steps from the stage and podium. Granted, I’d given Pete a hearty shove in the right direction—I know infatuation when I see it—but I’d also negotiated myself
into a primo seat next to Mr. Jack Harmon, fund-raiser extraordinaire. I could tell, by the curious stares, that people were wondering who it was filling the chair next to Jack. He had no doubt been flying solo in the companion department since the death of his wife.
Terrific. By trying to help Pete I may have accidentally navigated myself into tomorrow’s gossip columns.
See if I ever do anything nice for you again, Pete Moore!
A tall but spindly topiary centerpiece was too small to hide behind. Fortunately, I do know how to paste a smile on my face and pose for the public. These were the talents I put into use tonight, for what might be the longest continuous photo shoot of my life.
Then again, I didn’t give my dinner partner nearly enough credit for being charming and distracting me from this awkwardness.
“Do you want this?” He shoved a plate with two tiny toast points dotted with caviar.
“I have some, thanks.”
“You don’t like fish eggs on cardboard, either, huh?”
“It’s very elegant. Pete said we paid a thousand dollars a seat for this event. We’d better eat the food.”
Jack’s white teeth flashed in a grinned. “Amazing, isn’t it? This is our biggest event yet. We’re going to fund a lot of programs with this money.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Frankly, I’m usually too busy to eat at these things. Normally I stop at a fast-food restaurant on the way home after the party and grab a couple burgers and a shake.”
Sounds good to me.
“I had no idea you were such a public figure. I didn’t imagine you in any role except that of Ben’s father.”
“That’s my best and most important position. Any other falls a far second.” He shuffled some cards he’d pulled out of his breast pocket. “I’d better review my notes since I’m the master of ceremonies.”
So much for convincing myself that no one would look this way. While Pete was at a back table renewing a relationship with an old flame, the only thing flaming at this table were my cheeks.
It wasn’t all bad, though. I got to study Jack up close and watch the play of his facial expressions. He loved this, it was obvious, and his pure delight at visiting with people who stopped by the table was catching.