True Bliss

by Cameron, Stella

  Epilogue

  Sitting on the raised deck outside her rooms had been Bliss's choice. Sebastian knew he'd do anything as long as he could be with her. Their wooden chairs were side by side. The morning air was still chilly, but there was the promise of a beautiful day to come. Beater and his spider had found a puddle of sunshine beside a planter box filled with daisies.

  They would overcome what had happened. Somehow they'd have to learn to make every day beautiful, and the past would make them stronger.

  "What do you call a dachshund sitting on a rabbit?"

  She raised her face slowly. "Hmm?" Her eyes didn't quite focus behind her glasses.

  Sebastian ran a finger over the bones in the back of her hand. "In winter? In Minnesota?"

  Bliss continued to stare at him.

  "A chilly dog on a bun? Remember that, Chilly?"

  The faintest of smiles crossed her lips. She turned her hand beneath his on the arm of her chair and laced their fingers together. "Just making conversation, again?" she asked.

  "You've got it. You haven't spoken since we came out here."

  They'd returned to the Point in the early hours of the morning, after a visit to the hospital, and a lengthy interrogation by the police. There would be more of that to come.

  "How's your arm?"

  He raised it gingerly. "Sore. It'll pass. How about the head?"

  "Same. Seems trivial, somehow."

  "None of it seems real to me," Sebastian told her.

  "Not real at all," Bliss said. "I never loved my folks. No. I loved them in a way, a dependent way. That's the way it always is, I guess. Children are supposed to love parents, so I did. Probably because I thought they loved me and because they were all I had."

  He studied her. The sun had risen and morning shadows spread phantom tree trunks across the grass beyond the kitchen garden. Her hair caught light in its red depths.

  "I don't want to find out who my father was." The distance claimed her attention once more. "I'm curious. Til always be curious. But not curious enough to go hunting. I don't want to dig around in Mom's past."

  "Morris could have been your father, couldn't he? Your mother had . . . She was already married to Morris." He knew all the feelings Bliss was having. He'd been there, done that, as the flip saying went.

  "Poor Mom. She was never happy, was she?"

  "Maybe sometimes. We can't be sure what makes other people happy."

  "She loved him. I know she did. She loved him too much and she never grew to be a person herself. I see that so clearly now. I should have tried to be closer to her."

  Sebastian pulled her to her feet and settled her on his lap, against his naked chest. She rested her head on his shoulder and looped her hands around his neck. Her old terry-cloth robe was warm. Inside the robe, Bliss was soft.

  He loved her so much it ached.

  "Maryan didn't deserve to die like that," Bliss said. "She tried to save you. And Crystal. Oh, Sebastian, I keep thinking about her as a kid in high school. She never had any luck."

  "Not really. And they almost took my luck from me." A certain kind of luck, the most important kind. "Without you, the rest didn't mean much."

  "I just wish they could have another chance."

  It was too soon to think about Mary an or Crystal. And he didn't feel like reminding Bliss that she'd been marked to die. "We're going to have children, aren't we?" he asked her.

  Bliss leaned away to look into his face. She studied his eyes, then his mouth. She kissed him lightly, but evaded his attempt to pursue her lips. "Are we?" she asked. "Can we do it right?"

  Sebastian had to smile. "Could we do it any other way? We're human. We'll make mistakes. But we're strong or we wouldn't be here, and relatively normal, so we'll be trying so damned hard we'll probably overdo it. They'll be spoiled."

  The tears that filled her eyes caught him off guard. "Hey." he ducked his head and brought his face closer. "Don't melt on me now."

  Her mouth trembled. "I had a sudden vision of our children. Of you with our children. You'll be wonderful. I've seen you with Bobby. He thinks you walk on water."

  "He's a neat kid. He needs a dad of his own."

  "Yeah. But he's got a great mom and a doting grandma and aunt. And we love him."

  He stroked her jaw with a thumb. "Some people are ruined by their childhoods."

  She smiled at him then. Smiled, and sniffed, and a tear overflowed to course down her cheek. "And some people are made stronger. That's us. You and me. I just wish no one had died while we were finding our way."

  ''Because we were finding our way," he told her seriously. "But we can't control the world, or the people in it. We can only do our best not to be destroyed by them."

  "They tried," Bliss said. "But I'm not going to shake the guilt very easily. The goblin still lives inside me. The goblin who whispers, 'it's your fault they didn't love you.' "

  Sebastian nodded. "I know that goblin well. He's part of it. And you'll grieve. We both will. But we'll do it together, right?" He rested his forehead on hers. "No suffering alone and in silence. We've both done too much of that."

  "I can still hear their voices."

  He caught her against him and hugged until he was afraid he would hurt her. "We're going to help each other, okay?"

  "Okay." She hugged him back. "When they get Vic, there'll be a court case, won't there?"

  "If they get him. Zoya, too, for different reasons."

  She shifted on his lap and tilted her head. "You'd better think about getting ready for work."

  "When I go, you're going with me."

  "I've got work to do here," she protested.

  "Then I'm staying here, too."

  Her brow puckered. "We can't be joined at the hip, Sebastian."

  "We can until we start feeling safe again. William's holding down the fort, but I'm going to have to fill Zoya's spot quickly—yesterday wouldn't have been too soon. I'm going to bring someone in from Los Angeles, I think."

  She settled her head on his shoulder again but she wasn't relaxed.

  "What's up?" Sebastian asked. "What's on your mind?"

  "Nothing."

  "Why do women do that? Say there's nothing wrong when everything's wrong?"

  "It isn't. I don't like uncertainty, is all."

  "There isn't any uncertainty!" He rocked her. "We know exactly what's going to happen."

  "I don't."

  The steps from the kitchen garden creaked. "Breakfast ap-proacheth," Venus Crow's voice announced. "Are you decent?"

  Sebastian laughed.

  Bliss tried to struggle from his lap but he wouldn't let her go. "Decent as we're going to get, Venus," he called.

  Bobby beat his grandmother up the steps and promptly scampered to Sebastian's side. Spike lolloped to Beater and flopped down in his patch of sunshine.

  Venus arrived carrying a tray crowded with tall glasses of chunky, pale purple something. "A sad day," she said, her eyes

  doleful. "Mourning requires energy, my children. The living souls must be fed so that they may offer their strength to those departing."

  The urge to laugh felt too hysterical for comfort. Sebastian stroked Bliss's hair and smiled at Bobby. "How's it going, Sport?"

  "I don't wanna go," Bobby said. He hooked his hands on top of Sebastian's shoulder. "Mom's gonna be on TV She said that's 'cause of you. But I don't wanna go."

  "Go where?" Bliss asked.

  "Somewhere new to live."

  "Eggplant frappes," Venus said, swaying dreamily in a black, hooded caftan edged with gold braid. "The purple flesh heals ills. We must all heal. We must all prepare for change that may leave us bereft and cast adrift."

  Sebastian frowned back at Bobby and said, "Who says you're going to need somewhere new to live?"

  "Mom," Bobby told him. "She says Bliss and you will have your own home now."

  "Not that I see harmony ahead in that," Venus intoned. "The gentle woman and the hawklike man. He will crush her, subju
gate her. He has brought trouble in his wake. Disrupted the lives of the peaceful."

  Sebastian clamped an arm firmly around Bliss's shoulders, holding her when she would have squirmed free. "Why don't you sit down, Venus," he said pleasantly. "We can all benefit from your wisdom." He put his other arm, the one that ached, around Bobby.

  More footsteps came, more hesitantly, up the steps and Polly Crow's blond head came into view, followed by her sister's.

  "A summit," Sebastian muttered, finally giving in to Bliss's insistent pushes against him. "The gang's all here. Let's talk."

  Bliss resumed her seat beside him. Her place on his lap was promptly claimed by Bobby.

  "Bliss and I are getting married," Sebastian announced, looking from face to face.

  "A tragic mistake," Venus said, sinking to sit, cross-legged, on the floor. "The stars have warned me. I have warned you. I cannot do more."

  "Mom!" Polly and Fab said in unison.

  Venus raised her hands, allowing her flowing sleeves to drip over her hands. "Take the eggplant. We shall all need our strength for the hard times to come. All driven from our home by strangers. But we must not dwell on our own misfortunes. The happiness of these two people, no matter how brief fate allows it to be, must take precedence over the misery of the rest of us."

  Bliss hung her head. Sebastian peered at her and saw the smile on her lips.

  "I haven't had a chance to thank you both for helping me get the job," Polly said. "I can hardly believe it."

  "You got it because you're right for it," Bliss told her. "Sebastian will tell you that."

  "Thank you." She cast her mother—who couldn't see—an annoyed glare. "And I think it's wonderful you're getting married. You're going to be very happy together. We'll soon find somewhere else to live."

  "Yes," Fab said. "Thank you both for everything."

  Bobby felt Sebastian's stubbly beard with his fingertips. Sebastian looked at Bliss.

  "You're leaving the Point?" she asked Fab.

  "Cast out," Venus said. "Cast out in the wake of a dangerous force. But do not concern yourself with us, Bliss. We have been alone and desperate before. We triumphed. We will triumph again. One can only hope you will not be the one to suffer."

  Sebastian chuckled, he couldn't help himself.

  Bliss poked him in the ribs—his bruised ribs—with a pointed finger, and he yowled.

  "Animal sounds," Venus said. "The wolves approach."

  Polly and Fab, both sitting on the deck now, smiled into their laps.

  "I'm not closing Hole Point," Bliss said. "I'm not selling it—ever. We'd hoped you'd all stay on."

  Sebastian didn't miss the "we."

  "Of course," Bliss said. "You're going to be too busy to do what you have done, Polly. You, too, Fab. But we'd figured the two of you might keep on living here and overseeing things—at least until you had to go."

  Bobby sat up to study each of the adults in turn.

  Venus made unintelligible noises.

  "Does that mean we don't have to move?" Bobby asked. He scooted to the deck and ran to his mother. "Can we stay, Mom? Can we?"

  Polly studied first Bliss, then Sebastian. "We like it here. Bobby and me."

  "So do I," Fab agreed. "But you're right. We can't manage without more help—especially not once you're gone."

  "I'll be in and out," Bliss told them.

  "I will never dance at this wedding," Venus said, bending farther forward over her crossed legs. "My soul is heavy. Not that you would allow me to dance at your wedding. I would be a reminder of the terrible risk you take in this union."

  "Mom!" Fab and Polly moaned together.

  "If you had someone you could trust as a manager, would you like to stay on then?" Bliss asked.

  Sebastian reached for her hand again. He couldn't bear not to touch her. "Be the same as adding a third level of management. And we intend to pour some money in here. Not change things too much, just update and do repairs that have needed doing for a long time."

  "Can we?" Bobby said, dancing a barefoot tattoo. "Can we stay."

  "Well?" Polly looked at Fab.

  "Possibly. Just yesterday Lennox was asking what was going to happen here once Bliss and Sebastian married."

  "Lennox?" Bliss spread her hands. "Lennox?"

  "We talk now and then," Fab said offhandedly. "He has his good points."

  Sebastian said, "Back to the question of a manager to help out around here."

  "I was thinking of asking Venus if she'd like the job," Bliss said, and she wouldn't meet Sebastian's eyes. "She knows about coping with difficult situations. Not that we plan to have anymore, but you never know."

  Venus grew quite still.

  The twins' heads turned in their mother's direction. "Mom?"

  "What's the matter," she snapped, scowling at them. "Don't you think I could manage? I've managed more taxing situations than this little community."

  "No, no," Fab said. "Of course we don't think you can't manage. We just wonder if you'll agree, that's all."

  "You would live here in the lodge," Bliss said.

  Sebastian added, "And be available when Bobby comes home from school, of course—and when Polly is working."

  "The income would be good," Bliss told Venus. "And we'd certainly like to hear any ideas you have for maximizing occupancy. And increasing efficiency."

  "We could provide you with additional help in that department," Sebastian said.

  "That will not be necessary." Venus rose majestically to her feet and shook out the folds of her caftan. "I know how to make this the most sought-after facility in the country."

  Sebastian leaned forward. So did Bliss.

  "Do tell, Mom," Polly said.

  Venus swayed inside her robes. "The premier belly dancing academy in the country." She pointed a toe and extended her arms. From beneath the robe, bells tinkled. "The only residential belly dancing academy in the country."

  "Sounds . . ."

  "Interesting," Sebastian finished for Bliss.

  "When is the wedding?" Venus asked, beginning to roll her hips. "I hope I have sufficient time to practice."

  Turn the page for an exciting taste of

  Stella Cameron's next book,

  GUILTY PLEASURES

  coming in March, 1997

  from Zebra Books . . .

  Don't miss Stella Cameron's previous Zebra Books titles:

  PURE DELIGHTS SHEER PLEASURES

  The boy who scribbled, "Least Likely to Succeed," beneath Polly Crow's high school yearbook photo had proudly signed his brilliant comment. He'd also laughed in her face when he handed back the book. Why not? After all, he had nothing to fear from a girl who came from nothing, and was going nowhere.

  Polly folded her white cashmere cardigan tightly about her and breathed deeply of the stiff late summer breeze off Lake Washington. Back then she'd begun to believe Brad—she couldn't recall the other name—and his friends, were probably right. And if there'd been a least-likely-to-succeed award, she'd have won with no contest. She hadn't been eligible to win any other prizes.

  But they were wrong. They were all wrong, including Polly, because she had amounted to something. And because she'd made good, someone was trying to frighten her to death.

  As she liked to do at the end of each day's filming, she walked along the floating docks off the town of Kirkland's waterfront. Leggy impatiens, luminous pink, orange, purple, and white, slumped in wooden planters. Ivy geraniums faded by weeks in the sun trailed from baskets suspended on poles. Time for chrysanthemums and winter pansies.

  The smell was coming-of-evening rich, sleepy-silk-sway-of water mysterious.

  Polly's long cotton skirt whipped about her legs. Too bad she couldn't ignore the other, the menace she'd lived with for days.

  Just some obsessive creep getting a cheap thrill from threatening a TV personality. It happened all the time.

  And sometimes these freaks acted on their obsessions.

  She woul
dn't change her lifestyle, wouldn't start locking herself inside the condo, wouldn't tell anyone who didn't already know what was happening.

  If she said aloud: "Someone leaves messages on my answering machine. No, I don't know who—he whispers. He says I only made one mistake in my life but he's forgiven that, that I used to be really good and I need him to make me good again," it would all become too real. Polly didn't want it to be real. She didn't want to voice, "I want you with me, or I want you dead." If she did, she'd have to admit she wasn't imagining the calls, imagining the worst threat of all: "I know you'll do what I want, what we both want, and get rid of anyone who stands in our way. Otherwise, I'll have to make sure you do."

  Good?

  Only one mistake?

  Twenty-seven years old. Ex-addict. Never married. Single mother of a seven-year-old son. Daughter of a single mother.

  Sam Dodge, the handsome rebel who'd wanted her because she made him look good, had taken her so low she should have been dead by now. But she hadn't died. Polly smiled at the wind, smiled at the watery sting in her eyes, smiled at the jumble of bittersweet memories.

  Bobby had saved her. Of all things, rather than adding another stone to the weight dragging her down, getting pregnant at nineteen had stopped the fall.

  "I ain 't gettin ' slowed down by no brat. If you wanna keep on being my woman, get rid of it," Sam had demanded when she'd told him about the pregnancy. And when she'd refused he'd said, "No account piece of trash. You '11 never amount to anything without me."

  Even as she shuddered, Polly smiled. Sam had given her a choice between drink, drugs, abusive sex—and Bobby, dear,

  serious Bobby. No choice. Thank God what was left of herself had made the decision so easy.

  The whisperer called Bobby a mistake. That had to be what he meant, and he threatened to get rid of him.

  Bobby hadn't questioned being sent to stay with Venus Crow, Polly's mother who lived in nearby Bellevue. He'd accepted the story that the show was going into a production crunch and this was a great time for him to run free at the artists' colony that had once been his home. Venus ran Hole Point, and Bobby loved the place.