by Rebecca Day
As if to answer his silent question, Wyatt heard giggling coming from down the hall. It had been so long since he heard Sam giggle like that. What the devil? He walked quietly down the hall and eavesdropped at Sam’s door.
"Well, yes," He heard Janie's voice. "It is kind of nerdy, but I'm sure your dad meant well. I'm sure with a little cutting and stitching, we can make this dress one hot number." Was she talking about the dress Wyatt had given her daughter for her birthday? Sam loved that dress! How dare Janie say that! Wyatt stood in his hiding place and fumed. This woman wasn’t satisfied with destroying his career, but she also wanted to hurt his relationship with his daughter. Nerdy? He didn’t buy any “nerdy” dress.
Then, he grudgingly realized that he couldn’t actually remember Sam ever wearing the dress. He just assumed it was because Sam leaned towards being a tomboy.
Perhaps Wyatt should have gotten a woman's help in picking out dresses. Wyatt looked down at his shoes, defeated. What did he know about buying dresses for a ten-year old, anyway?
Wyatt heard Sam's voice, high-pitched and excited. "Do you mean it? Oh, thank you!" Wyatt couldn't hold back his curiosity, any longer. He moved into the doorway and saw Sam throwing herself in Janie's arms. Janie smiled broadly and reciprocated Sam's big, bear hug.
Janie's hair fell down across her shoulder, almost glistening. Her skin was clear and smooth. How lovely this woman is, thought Wyatt for a brief instant, but then silently admonished himself. Even if Janie did get along well with his daughter, she was still the enemy, and he couldn't let himself forget that fact.
"Ahem," Wyatt cleared his throat to make his presence known. Sam broke the embrace and turned to see her father in the doorway. She was nothing short of ecstatic. Wyatt mumbled, "Your bags are in your room," and then he left, feeling like an intruder.
As he walked back down the hallway, he could hear them talking and giggling. Sam's voice, he thought, had never sounded so happy. Could that be that the effect of a woman's presence, he wondered. Maybe he should have remarried to give Samantha a more normal home life. He never thought that she was unhappy, but she never seemed this happy. With his work and raising a daughter on his own, he never had time to search for a wife.
Wyatt found himself in the kitchen and wondered how he got there. It was not like him to space out. "Sam," he hollered, rocking the house. "It's your night to make dinner. Get moving!!"
"Coming, dad," Sam called back from upstairs.
Wyatt heard his daughter bounce down the stairs. He sat down at the kitchen table and picked up the evening paper as Sam made cooking noises, banging pots and pans around. "Janie is taking a shower and getting unpacked," She told her dad, offhandedly.
Wyatt didn't look up from his paper but rustled it about. "I don't care what that woman is doing, Sam. You do not have to give me a running commentary on her activities."
"Sorry," she responded, a little irked. Sam was used to her father's moods; so, she continued on, even though her dad pretended to ignore her. "I really, really like her, dad. She is sooo nice. And have you noticed how pretty she is?"
Wyatt looked up from his paper. "Now just what does that mean, Samantha Jean Templeton?"
"What?" Sam feigned innocence. "I just think she's really pretty. Maybe she would want to go out with this surfer I know. He's really nice, and he has a great bod."
Wyatt put his paper down, leaned forward and wagged his finger at Sam. "First of all, I don't want you looking at surfers' 'bods'. Second of all, don't hand me that baloney. I know what you're up to, and I'm not biting. Janie Simmons is bad news for us, and that's a fact that you seem to be forgetting."
Wyatt leaned back and resumed reading his paper. Sam took out some ground beef from the refrigerator to brown for her homemade spaghetti sauce. "And I think that she thinks that you're not so bad yourself," she said as if her father's admonishments had never taken place.
"Sa-man-tha," Wyatt dragged out in warning.
Sam cut him off with one last burst. "But I don't know why because I think you have been just horrible to her. But go figure for taste."
Wyatt was just about to let his daughter have it right there, but he heard footsteps behind him.
"Ah, I feel so much better. Air travel really takes a lot out of a person," Wyatt turned to see Janie standing there. She was wearing very simple shorts and a man's t-shirt and nothing on her feet. Her hair was still wet, and it fell down to her waist. She wasn't wearing a drop of makeup, which made her look even younger. In its simplicity, the outfit allowed Janie's beauty to take over. Wyatt felt his face go hot and turned back to his paper.
"Sam, would you mind if I had some water?" she asked.
"Oh my gosh, no. I'm sorry I haven't offered you something. We have juice and soda if you want." Sam began to move to the refrigerator but Janie intercepted her.
"Thank you so much, Sam, but you don't have to wait on me while I'm here. I'll get what I need. Water will do just fine. Just show me where the glasses are, please."
Janie drank down a half of a glass of water and then looked over to what Sam was doing. "That smells so good. What are we having for dinner tonight?"
"It's spaghetti," she replied. "It's my specialty. Actually, I only know how to make about six different things."
"Well, that's about six more things than I knew how to make when I was ten," Janie responded soothingly. "I'm sure you know what you're doing, but can I help at all?"
"Well," Sam said sheepishly. "I wouldn't mind you setting the table."
Wyatt put down his paper. "Sam, Janie is a guest in this house. Setting the table is your chore. You have no right to –"
Janie cut him off mid-sentence. "Of course, Sam. I would love to. While I'm here I plan on being an active, helpful member of the household. I refuse to be a burden on anyone." She directed the comment more towards Wyatt than to Sam.
"Fine then," Wyatt said. He threw his paper down on the table, stood and stormed out of the kitchen. A second later he came back in to grab his paper. "I forgot the paper," he said in explanation and then was angry at himself for explaining. Finally, he stomped out and went into the living room. Janie and Sam looked at each other and suppressed a communal giggle.
“Should I set a plate for your mom?” Janie asked.
“Oh, no,” Sam replied. “It’s just Dad, Grandpa, and me here, but Grandpa is at Keiko’s Café with his backgammon group. So, just set three places, please.” Janie wondered at the absent mother, but Sam didn’t offer any more information. Since Janie didn’t want to pry, she let the subject drop.
About an hour later, Wyatt found himself on the sofa, being woken gently from a deep sleep by an angel. He cleared the sleepiness from his head, and his eyes focused. No, it wasn’t an angel, he corrected himself. She just looked like one. Janie was ever-so-lightly touching his arm and whispering to him that dinner was ready. For a moment, they locked eyes. Wyatt realized that he had the strongest desire to kiss her. He wondered what it would be like, how wonderful it would be, to feel his mouth on hers. They stayed there, paralyzed for a second. Finally, caught in the moment, Wyatt moved towards her, but before he could touch her, Sam called out from the kitchen, announcing that dinner was served.
Janie got up and walked towards the kitchen without giving Wyatt a second glance. He took a little while to get up, privately kicking himself for giving in to a high testosterone level.
In the kitchen, Janie and Sam were already seated. The table looked great. Lots of spaghetti, sauce, and what looked like a big basket of garlic bread. Wyatt’s stomach grumbled, reminding him that he was starving. “It looks great,” he said and sat down.
Plates and bowls were passed around until everybody had a plate piled high with spaghetti and garlic bread and a little side plate of salad. Everyone, it seemed, was as hungry as Wyatt because chewing took the place of talking for a few minutes.
Janie broke the silence. “It’s delicious, Sam. You should think of becoming a chef.”
Sam
took the compliment with glee.
“It is good, Sam,” Wyatt added. “You’ve surpassed yourself.”
“Thanks, everybody,” Sam said. “I’m glad you like spaghetti, Janie. This is my night to cook. Mostly we go out to eat at Keiko’s.”
“You did well,” Janie said and patted Sam’s arm. Her attention turned to Wyatt. “I can’t wait to see your dolphins, Wyatt. Do you think we can get out there tonight?”
Wyatt stopped dead with his fork midway up to his mouth. “I’ll get out there a little later to feed them and get them ready for the night, but I would prefer if you started your evaluation tomorrow morning in the light of the day.”
Wyatt was trying to hold off from dealing with Janie on his turf for as long as possible, and from the disappointed and dubious look on her face, she realized it. “Anyway,” he added. “You’re probably bushed and not even unpacked, yet.”
“Tomorrow morning it is,” she said and saluted, being a good sport. Sam let a weak laugh.
The dinner continued with Sam going on about rock groups totally unknown to Wyatt and about how “lame” school was and other topics in which Wyatt had little knowledge or interest. Janie participated, which was more than Wyatt could do. He couldn’t get beyond listening patiently. In fact, most of the time he wanted to roll his eyes.
After the meal, Wyatt excused himself and went out to the lagoon. It felt good to get some fresh air, even though the large windows in the house were constantly left open to let in the island breezes. It was just a relief to be away from that confusing woman and near his dolphins. With them he could always think clearly, know who he was and what he wanted from life. When he was near Janie, everything got all jumbled in his head.
When he came back in, Janie and Sam were putting the final touches on what looked like a spotless kitchen. “I think this balmy night calls for some of my famous iced tea,” Janie said. She looked at Wyatt, and in an afterthought asked, “Do you like iced tea?”
“Actually, I love it,” he said, being far too nice to her than he wanted.
“I can’t stick around,” Sam said. “I have to be going up now.”
“What are you talking about? It’s early,” Wyatt said, panic stricken to be left alone with Janie.
“I have homework to do and then I gotta get up early tomorrow to go surfing before summer school.” Sam waved goodnight and bounded up the stairs.
Wyatt looked after her, wanting to call her back down on any pretenses he could find, but he didn’t want to draw undue attention to himself, and he couldn’t back out of the “famous iced tea” now.
Wyatt reluctantly sat down at the table and looked at Janie’s back as she made the iced tea. He attempted to make some sort of conversation to fill in the quiet. “So, tell me, what other field experience do you have, Janie?”
Janie stopped what she was doing and there was a long pregnant pause. “Um, actually, this is my first field assignment.”
Wyatt gave out an audible groan.
Janie whipped around, holding out a half of a lemon, moving it as she spoke. “But I have lots of research experience. Years of experience,” she said, her voice cracking.
She saw that the lemon was dripping. She quickly put it down on the counter and got some paper towels to mop up the mess.
Wyatt ran a hand down his face. “Research does not prepare a person for field experience.”
“Maybe that’s so, Wyatt, but I’m eager to learn, and I know I can make a good field scientist,” she paused. “If I’m given half a chance.”
Well who was Wyatt not to give her her chance? In any case, even a seasoned field scientist sent by the higher-ups would do just what she’s going to do: ax the Project.
Janie brought a pitcher of iced tea to the table. She handed Wyatt a tall glass filled with ice and gave herself one, as well. She put down a small plate of lemon wedges between them. She filled Wyatt’s glass, and he took a long gulp. God, it was the best iced tea he ever tasted. Not too sweet but sweet enough.
“This is the best iced tea I’ve ever tasted,” he admitted.
“Your compliment is accepted with graciousness,” she said and bowed her head.
Wyatt smiled. “Where did you learn to make this, anyway?”
“Can’t a girl have her secrets,” she joked. “No, really, this is my mother’s recipe. Well, actually, her mother’s recipe, which was probably handed down for I don’t know how long. We Simmons go a long way back in Missouri.”
“You’re from Missouri?” Wyatt asked, incredulous.
“What’s wrong with Missouri,” Janie raised her voice a little.
“Nothing. Nothing,” Wyatt waved his hand back and forth. “In fact, that’s where I’m from.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. No, I’m not.” There was another pregnant pause but neither tried to fill it. They found themselves looking into each other’s eyes again, and this time, Wyatt discovered that Janie’s green eyes were flecked with gold. Her forehead was high, and her lips were full and rose red. A long strand of her auburn hair fell over her eye, and she moved it back behind her ear.
Again, that strong to desire to kiss Janie almost overwhelmed Wyatt. He mentally gave himself a cold shower. He would have to give himself a real one later on tonight. He thought quickly. “Well, I suppose you must be tired,” he added.
Janie looked puzzled and could that be hurt in her eyes? “I know for one that I am tired, and you are in a different time zone,” he explained.
Janie leaned back and little. “I guess I am tired.” She quickly stood up grabbed her and Wyatt’s glasses and dumped the remaining tea down the sink. She rinsed out the glasses and put the pitcher in the refrigerator. She didn’t say another word.
“Um, do you know where everything is?” Wyatt asked. “We forgot to give you a tour of the house. What if you need something?”
“I’ll manage,” Janie said, her voice strained. Wyatt turned off the kitchen light, and they both walked silently up the stairs. They stopped at Janie’s door.
“If you need anything at all, I’m right next door,” Wyatt pointed to his door, but it was too late. Janie entered her room, and shut the door behind her.
“Now for that cold shower…” Wyatt said to the dark hallway.
"That man! That man! That insufferable man!" Janie wanted to scream, but allowed herself to only whisper as she paced around her room. She didn't want to wake up Sam.
Since the moment she laid eyes on Wyatt Templeton, she had tried to be the nicest, most gracious person she knew how to be, and what did he do in response? He treated her like some kind of rodent in the house.
What a horrible man! It's amazing that a man like that could be so brilliant and such a wonderful father, Janie thought. If for no other reason than Sam, Janie would just have to grin and bear it during these two weeks and remain civil. She didn't want her stay to be uncomfortable for that sweet girl. More importantly, she couldn't let her obviously terrible relationship with Wyatt get in the way of her work. If he even lets her work, that is.
She didn't miss his reaction when she asked to see the dolphins. She only asked to see the dolphins, and he was aghast! Well, that's going to have to change, Dr. Templeton, Janie fumed. He could be nasty to her, but he wasn't going to stop her from doing what she came all this way to do. He wasn't going to make it easy for her, but she was going to surprise him with her competency and determination.
Who knows? She might even win him over. Although, she wasn't so sure about that. Was it her imagination or did sparks fly between them in the living room and again at the kitchen table? Maybe it was only HER sparks that flew.
Janie couldn't deny that she was attracted to this man. What wasn't attractive about him? He didn't even seem to be aware that he was so good looking. Most men flaunt it, Janie thought, but not Wyatt.
She couldn't help but let her thoughts stray a little and imagine his big arms holding her close, her lips pressed to his.
Janie stoppe
d dead in the center of the room. She slapped her forehead. What was she doing? How could she fantasize about a man who had been nothing but mean to her? Tomorrow would be a different story, Janie thought to herself. She put on a night shirt and tucked herself into bed.
Lying down, she realized just how tired she was, and that was her last thought that night because she fell fast asleep.
Chapter 3
Wyatt woke up naturally a little before dawn as he woke up every morning. His days started early, but at least he didn't have a long commute to work. His office was in the backyard.
He attempted to get up from bed, but his muscles complained, making him sit back down. Why was he so sore? He hadn't done any new exercises, no great physical exertion. Finally, it came to him: he had been tied up in knots all night. He was stressed out, even his jaw hurt. Wyatt massaged his temples. He must have been grinding his teeth while he slept. It's that woman's fault, he thought angrily.
Wyatt slowly got out of bed and gave a little attempt at stretching. He was so tight! He slipped on his swimming trunks and went into his bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he thought: I've looked worse, but not often. He decided against shaving, opting instead for a splash of cold water on his face and then ran his fingers through his hair. That would have to do for now.
Hobbling down the stairs, Wyatt’s legs loosened up ever so slightly as he moved. In the kitchen, a waft of delicious coffee smells invaded his nostrils. Sam didn't know how to make coffee, and his father-in-law never got up before ten, and then he quickly high-tailed it to Keiko’s. So, that meant that Janie was awake and around somewhere.
Wyatt took advantage of the moment of solitude and poured himself a big mug full and sneaked out to his morning spot on the shores of the lagoon, a little ways from the dolphins' penned off area.
His feet touched the sandy beach, and he stopped a moment to curl his toes. The sun was coming up overhead, Wyatt's favorite time of the day.
He sat down and took a sip of the hot, black liquid. Delicious. Janie had found his stash of Kona blend in the freezer. Smart gal, he had to admit.