Promises in Paradise

by Sandra Kitt

  The presentations continued. Diane found that as she was being served her dinner everyone else had pretty much finished. She covertly ate enough of the duck confit and asparagus, artfully tied with a strip of red pepper, to quell her growling stomach before she allowed her plate to be removed. She slowly sipped her wine, giving her something to do as conversation happened around her. She was steadfast in her resolve to ignore the quiet but constant buzz of talk and laughter coming from Hale’s table.

  She focused her attention on the stage and podium, to others receiving awards and giving thanks. Having performed as she’d been required to, Diane realized she was also no longer the subject of admiring glances, appreciative smiles or even mild curiosity. She felt suddenly, oddly, out of sync with the evening and everyone around her. And alone, as if she didn’t belong.

  Inexplicably, she blamed Hale Cameron for her feelings.

  As the dessert was being served, Diane picked up her fork and carefully broke off some of the tiramisu but she couldn’t really enjoy it. She was suddenly acutely aware of Hale and his presence in the room, and his relationship to her father. And how her acceptance remarks, off-the-cuff and sincere and totally inadvertent, had been a lot about him.

  Seeing him at the entrance to the gala room had stunned her and caught her completely off guard. The tall, self-possessed, rather good-looking man in formal attire had confused her. Seeing him so suddenly, so unexpectedly, had disturbed history and rattled her expectations. She didn’t know what to make of this person, this apparition who seemed to have morphed from her memories into a different being.

  Suddenly the man seated to her left, unaware, knocked her evening clutch off the table as he shifted in his chair. Diane quickly bent to retrieve it and took yet another opportunity to check out the table behind her and to the right. Hale had his arm resting along the top of the chair of a woman next to him as he leaned close to hear what she was saying. The woman, petite and—as much as Diane hated to admit it—adorable, had her lips very close to Hale’s ear and his undivided attention. Diane faced forward once more, placing her bag in her lap. She pushed her dessert plate away.

  The evening was beginning to seem endless.

  It had certainly never occurred to Diane that she would ever seen Hale Cameron again, let alone at this kind of evening that had brought out many of D.C.’s black education elite. It had been…what…more than ten years since they’d spoken to one another. Yet his name and the evolution of his life had been an indelible part of her own, thanks to her father.

  Diane knew that she and Hale lived in the same city, D.C., but didn’t move in the same circles. She’d worked hard to make sure their paths would never cross. But even if she’d wanted to never see or hear the name Hale Cameron again in her lifetime, the chances were slim to none.

  In all honesty, Diane considered dispiritedly, as laughter rang out from Hale’s table, it would not have been because of her father’s liking for the younger man but all because of her own steadfast lack of it.

  Hale covertly checked his watch and stole a quick glance at the printed program in front of him. Two more awards and then it will all be over.

  He tried to roll his shoulders back to ease the tightness across the top. He crossed his legs as he lounged back in his chair, his tux jacket unbuttoned. He looked to the temporary stage as the next presentation was made, but out of his peripheral vision there was no avoiding a full-on view of Diane as she sat listening to the proceedings. Elegant. Queenly. Beautiful. Bitch.

  Hale hurriedly uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. His jaw tensed with the sway of his thoughts.

  That was totally uncool, he told himself in irritation.

  His glance strayed in her direction again. It had been a long time. Years and years, and then some. And yet, he was genuinely stunned by the difference between then and now, at least physically, as he tried to adjust his thinking, his memories, to fit the moment.

  He mentally shook his head. In another way he was also sure that nothing had changed. At least, between the two of them. From Diane’s very cold attitude to her biting comments, he might just as well have been dead to her.

  Hale considered their peculiar history and the awkward melding of their lives. He knew everything about Diane Maxwell. Far more than she’d appreciate his knowing, more than was comfortable from his point of view. All of which, however, had only served to keep them connected over the years, like an invisible umbilical or Bungee cord.

  The woman seated next to him shifted slowly in her chair and sighed. Hale immediately bent toward her.

  “Everything okay?”

  She nodded, taking a tiny sip of water. “I’m getting a little tired.”

  “We can leave now if you want.” He placed his napkin on the table and began pushing his chair back. She touched his arm.

  “No, not yet. It’s almost over, Hale. I can wait.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She smiled at him in the darkened room. “Believe me, if I wasn’t, you’d be the second person to know.” She patted his arm, and gave her attention back to the front of the room.

  Satisfied, Hale relaxed. His gaze wandered back to Diane.

  She’d cut her hair.

  He remembered a wild mane of thick but loosely textured natural hair that he used to call her Diana Ross wannabe look. She’d hated his teasing, thinking herself far more original. In truth, Hale had to admit that Diane had never really been the kind of girl who fussed over her looks or worried about her hair. Especially since she was a swimmer. Long ago it was more that she was comfortable with her own natural appeal and never felt the need to play on it, and it didn’t need improvements. Studying her now, it was obvious that had changed.

  The woman she’d become was…he couldn’t even say it. He couldn’t find the right words because they would be so foreign to what Diane used to be and what he’d known of her. The girl was gone. The fearless, but awkward and innocent teenager had been replaced in a major way. Hale may not have been able to get his memories straight around it, but his present state of mind was another matter.

  Uncomfortable with having been forced back into the past, he was anxious for the evening to be over.

  Even as the applause started on the closing remarks of the hostess and MC, people were getting up, saying good-night to one another and heading with purpose for the exit. Hale quickly stood, offering a hand to his companion as she slowly rose from her chair. Hale offered his arm. She held on as they left the room. There was a crowd of people around the elevator, but many others were filing down the staircase in a wave of black tuxedos and colorful dresses.

  “Hale, I’ll just be a minute.”

  “I’ll wait here,” he said, releasing her hand and watching her closely as she headed toward the ladies’ room.

  The room was almost empty by the time Diane was finally able to leave. Even then she was accompanied by one of her father’s professional friends, who was asking her to have Adam call him. It had been a long time since they’d gotten together and they were overdue.

  Diane smiled graciously. “I certainly will give him your message. He loves the whole let’s-do-lunch thing but he’s terrible about making it happen.”

  “I know,” the elderly man lamented. “Adam never did suffer the details very well. I’ve always enjoyed our conversations. Give him my best.”

  “I will. Get home safe,” Diane said and the gentleman, alone, walked away.

  She waited just a moment longer before leaving the room, her father’s Revere Bowl in her hands. She looked up and saw Hale. He was standing alone, his gaze focused absently on the last group of guests descending the staircase. For just a moment Diane quietly watched him, accepting that she no longer recognized the young man she used to know. In that moment she was very curious about this new person, this grown man. What was he doing here? How had he become involved with such an influential and select group of professional folks?

  Was the tux rented?

  As curious as
Diane suddenly was about Hale, she accepted that it would be a snowy day in hell before she asked her father for details.

  Undetected, she walked away from him to make one more stop before her drive home.

  In the ladies’ room, one woman was washing her hands. The second, a small, lovely young woman, was sitting in the outer lounge area reapplying lipstick. Diane recognized her as Hale’s dinner companion. The woman caught her gaze briefly in the mirror and offered a faint but friendly smile. Diane automatically responded in passing.

  When she finished and was ready to leave it was in time to see Hale and the woman about to board the elevator. Diane made the decision to walk down, but was spotted by the woman, who waved at her.

  “You’re just in time. We’ll hold the door.”

  Unable to come up with a reason why she shouldn’t ride with them, Diane hurried to the elevator and entered.

  She avoided looking at Hale. “Thanks.”

  The word caught in her throat. She sounded breathless to her own ears. Not because she was in a closed, confined place with Hale, but because she was suddenly aware that his companion was very pregnant.

  The other woman was saying something. Introducing herself. Jenna. Stunned, Diane couldn’t hear properly. She had to force herself to focus, to clear her head and lift her gaze to the other woman.

  “…about your father. He sounds like a wonderful man,” the woman said.

  Diane nodded absently, trying to think.

  Think!

  “Ah…yes. Thank you. I agree but I’m biased. He’s far from perfect, but if I don’t agree, I’ll probably sound mean-spirited.”

  “Which is it?” Hale asked.

  Diane’s eyes sparked but she did her best to hide it. She looked at Hale, her gaze steady. “I’m lucky that he’s my father. He’s probably a better person than I am.”

  A muscle in Hale’s jaw tightened and his dark eyes took her in, steady…and unforgiving.

  “I don’t believe that,” Jenna demurred. “Your speech was so warm and loving. I’d say, like father, like daughter. Right, Hale?”

  It was too long a moment before he responded and Diane braced herself for something sly and cutting.

  “I think that’s fair,” he murmured.

  The elevator eased to a stop and the doors opened. The entrance lobby was almost deserted, except for night staff, the director and several others who, once again surrounding Diane, congratulated her father and asked that he be thanked for so generously donating his award check to the cause.

  Before Diane could finally bid Hale and Jenna good-night, Hale’s voice halted her.

  “Is your car in the museum lot?”

  Diane looked puzzled. “Yes. Why did you ask?”

  “So’s mine. If you follow me I’ll lead you back to 295. That will take you right to the Belt. You’ll find your way home from there.”

  “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to…”

  “Do you leave the lot and go to your right or left? The highway entrance is a quarter of a mile east of here.”

  Diane stared blankly at him. Jenna laughed. “I think it’s a man thing. I couldn’t tell you if we’re east or west, either. Come on. It’s not going to take us out of the way.”

  Diane wanted to protest again but she knew she’d only come off as ungrateful and stubborn. She glanced covertly at Hale only to find him regarding Jenna affectionately.

  Okay. So she’s pregnant, pretty and nice.

  “Thanks,” Diane murmured, quietly giving in.

  Diane watched Hale help Jenna with her winter coat that, when buttoned, ballooned over her protruding belly. She found it humiliating to trail several feet behind Hale and Jenna as, her hand looped through his bent arm, he slowly walked them all back to the parking lot. Diane tried to control her shivers, the rush of frosty air biting into her skin and penetrating deep to her bones. To add insult to injury, her nose was starting to run. She began sniffling.

  If Jenna or Hale noticed they gave no indication. The pace continued leisurely for Jenna’s sake, and Diane gritted her teeth, her eyes now watering from the cold, until they reached the lot. Her car was brought out first. She gave the attendant a very large tip for having turned on her heater full blast. She fell into the seat, closing the door with a deep sigh of relief.

  She waited for the same service for Hale and Jenna, watching them both through her windshield. Not so much Jenna but Hale.

  Patience, consideration, kindness and tenderness were not words she would ever have associated with him. At least not the Hale she used to know. But Diane was taken aback, almost mesmerized, by his attention to Jenna. She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Their whole encounter that evening had so been outside their history that she felt as if she’d stepped back to the year she was seventeen. That’s where she and Hale Cameron had left off. It was obvious to her now, that’s where she’d gotten stuck.

  Hale helped Jenna into the passenger seat of the car, making sure she was comfortable before closing the door and coming around to the driver’s side. Diane at last felt her ire, her long-held indignation, seep out of her. It was pointless. Plus, she felt ashamed. She had not risen to the occasion as she’d always planned if their paths had ever crossed, but had reverted to the spoiled girl Hale had once accused her of being. She had not been able to bridge the gap of years since their last meeting but he had. He had moved on and put her behind him.

  His car moved out ahead of her and Diane followed as she’d been instructed. It galled her that she was now beholden to Hale.

  They were surprisingly close to the highway entrance, and he stuck his hand out the window indicating the right ramp. Hale then changed lanes, giving her space to pull around his car. She saw that Hale continued to wait, making sure she was well on her way.

  At the last minute Diane flashed her headlights as a thank-you before picking up speed. This was something else he could hold over her, no matter how trivial.

  Chapter 2

  Diane stood at the nursing counter, dressed in a pair of slim black slacks and a dove-gray cashmere turtleneck sweater with fashionable black leather boots. Simple pearl ear studs were her only jewelry. Not exactly holiday colors, she realized when she dressed that morning. Christmas was in the air but she was not about to act like a walking advertisement.

  There were makeshift vases of holly and evergreens, wreaths made of fake fruit and poinsettia plants on the counters and a sprig of mistletoe over the entrance to the visitor’s lounge. Cutout foil snowflakes were taped to doors and mirrors. It was hard to avoid. But Diane also knew she just wasn’t feeling it yet.

  “Hey. Haven’t seen you lately. When did you cut your hair?” the nursing supervisor asked, sitting at her terminal and working on her computer keyboard.

  “About a month ago,” Diane answered absently, focused on the paperwork in front of her. “I got tired of dealing with it. Too much work.”

  “You look different.” The nursing supervisor nodded.

  Diane shook her head, amused. “Thanks. I think.”

  Her hair was trimmed short across her nape but was layered full at the crown and sides, framing a light brown face that was youthful and animated. And except for the unbuttoned traditional white lab coat and the stethoscope folded into one of the pockets there was nothing else about her appearance or posture to indicate she was a doctor.

  At that moment she was multitasking, checking messages on her BlackBerry, listening to voice mail from an earpiece and quickly checking off on a hospital form the procedures she’d followed with her last patient. She was also sucking on a piece of candy cane, rolling it around her mouth.

  “What are you doing here, anyway? You’re not even on the schedule.” She checked to make sure.

  Diane consulted her BlackBerry once more. She entered a text message before finally turning it off and dropping it into her pocket along with the earpiece.

  “I was called in for two late referrals that couldn’t wait, according to the attending
physicians. The referrals turned into one emergency and the other required a full workup. And there was a bunch of as-long-as-you’re-here-doctor-can-you-take-a-look-at-this requests. You know how it is.” She sighed.

  She wasn’t about to admit there was more on her mind than just the obvious routine of her work. To be honest, over the past week or so she found her work was actually a blessed distraction. The horrible events of two years ago notwithstanding, what was on her mind right now was merely irritating. It had kept her awake on three different nights in the last two weeks. It was because she’d seen Hale Cameron again.

  Why did he have to be there? she’d been asking herself ever since.

  With Jenna.

  Who was pregnant.

  The image of the friendly woman with her rounded belly evoked a primal reaction in Diane that she, even now, couldn’t understand. Pensive, she played with her hair and massaged her scalp with her fingertips.

  “Well, if you’re finished with patients it’s time to get the spirit. Ho ho ho and all that. There’s food in the staff lounge. Unless you have a date and you’re eating later. Or is that long face because he canceled?”

  Diane silently shook her head. The mention of any kind of celebrating for the holidays only made her think of Trevor. Her ex-husband. The gnawing memory made her feel more annoyed than sad.

  She leaned her whole torso over the counter as she searched along the desk. “Got anymore candy?”

  The nurse playfully swatted her hand. “Leave that alone. It’s bad for you.”

  Diane chuckled quietly but obeyed.

  “You didn’t answer my question. A dinner date?”

  The basket was now beyond her reach and Diane stood up and leaned a hip against the counter. “That’s over,” she said smoothly, watching the traffic around the nursing station, the passing of staff, patients and visitors trolling the hallways. Many were wearing cheap, felt Santa hats with fuzzy white trim.

  The nurse squinted at her in disbelief. “Over? I thought you just met him a few months ago. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”