by Nancy Warren
He shut the door behind her and she looked around. “You have a cat?”
He glanced at the calico curled up in the corner of the couch. “I have a new buddy who knows how to climb in my window and doesn’t like to be alone.”
“Oh, he’s so cute.” She walked over to where two wide green eyes assessed her. Probably with jealousy. “What’s his name? Her name?”
“I have no idea. I call it Cat.” He turned to her. “You’re not allergic or anything, are you?”
“No. I like cats.” She scratched this one on the head and was immediately rewarded by throaty purring. “Where is the construction project?”
“Bedroom.”
“Oh.” Okay, they were friends. This wasn’t weird. And they had a chaperone. She walked to the open bedroom door and peeked in, noticed that he’d got as far as opening a box and laying out an enormous number of pieces. A bag of screws and strange colorful plastic things and the dreaded Allen wrench lay beside the pieces. A second unopened box was propped against the white wall.
“They’re going to be night tables. I didn’t know there’d be so many pieces.”
“How hard can it be? We’re two intelligent, creative people.”
“Positive thinking. I like that.”
She went straight for the directions assuming he, being a man, wouldn’t bother with them.
She flipped through once. Twice. Flopped to the hardwood floor with her back leaning against the bed. “Where are the words?”
He shook his head. “No words. Pictures.”
“I don’t even know what these diagrams mean.”
“Very visual people, the Swedes.”
“Are you visual?”
“Words all the way.”
She flipped through the diabolical picture reel one more time. “We are so screwed.”
“Maybe wine will help,” he offered.
“It can’t hurt.”
He got out another bottle of the wine he’d bought in Napa, uncorked it and poured two glasses. “This should take care of the squiggles,” he said with great optimism.
While they struggled through the wordless diagrams and screwed pieces to other pieces, she said, “How’s it going with the ex?”
“You don’t want to hear this.”
She nearly dropped the silver screw thing that she was pushing into a predrilled hole. She couldn’t remember the last time someone resisted the urge to share their problems with her when invited to do so. “Sure I do. It’s like a TV show where I was left on a cliffhanger.”
“Well, the main character in your show fell off that cliff.”
His voice sounded clipped, business like. That had to be bad. “I was afraid of that. What happened?”
“I called my buddy the lawyer and asked him to represent me in the divorce. We’ve been friends for years, we used to run together. We’ve socialized, my wife and I and his girlfriend and him. We even went on a ski trip one Christmas.”
“Uh-huh?” She stopped screwing her silver screw into its pre-drilled hole so she could give him her full attention.
“He said he was sorry but he couldn’t take my case. For personal reasons.”
“Oh, he’s not.” But of course she knew he was. Oldest crime in the book.
“Screwing my wife? Oh, yes he is.”
“How can people be so awful? So disloyal? Your wife and your best friend? The two people on earth you should most be able to trust.”
“I don’t know. But I found another lawyer. A woman who is happily married. She’ll represent me in my divorce.”
He pushed pieces together and made a drawer. “And the sooner I’m free the better.”
Daphne Chance loved to get as many of her offspring under her roof at the same time as possible as often as practical. Birthdays and major holidays were good bets that she’d be entertaining a hefty portion of her brood under her roof, at least for a few hours.
Since Iris knew this, she let her mother invite whoever she wanted to the birthday party, figuring that she’d already done her embarrassing worst by inviting Geoff.
To her delight, Iris got an email from her older brother, Evan. He and his fiancée Caitlyn were driving the two hundred miles to come for her party and spending the weekend with Daphne and Jack.
After the horror story Evan had almost married, the Chance family had heaved a collective sigh when they met the woman who’d stolen his heart for good. Caitlyn Sorenson was not the woman any of them could have imagined Evan with. She’d chosen to run a country medical practice in a small town. To everyone’s surprise, Evan had followed her lead and given up his huge time and soul-sucking corporate law practice to join with a single partner in a two-person law firm.
And yet when you saw them together it was obvious that Caitlyn was exactly right for him. Since he’d settled with her, Evan had never appeared happier.
Since Daphne had kept on inviting people she’d gone way past the number that could fit around her huge dining table so the dinner would be buffet style. “I’m always intimidated cooking for you,” Daphne said as she went over the menu one more time.
“Mom, I love your food. It’s nice for me to have a break from cooking.”
“And you want your favorite cake for dessert?”
“It wouldn’t feel like my birthday without your strawberry shortcake.”
“Okay.” It was true, too. Daphne’s strawberry shortcake was as much a part of celebrating her birthday as was the dinner gathering.
On the day of her party she wore her favorite dress. It was a midnight blue, and very flattering to her figure. Maybe she was dressing up a little more than she usually did but it was her birthday. Of course she should look her best. She wore it with a Lapis lazuli and amethyst pendant and her dangly amethyst earrings. She took the time to do her makeup properly and even spent an unheard of half-hour on her hair.
While she was doing that, she took Happy Birthday calls from her friends and the sibs who couldn’t make it. She had a wall of greetings on her Facebook page and her email box was satisfyingly full of messages.
When she arrived at the house she’d grown up in it was full of noise. Six of the Chance kids were here and there was the usual boisterous catching up to do.
“Here she is, here’s the birthday girl,” Jack announced, getting up and pulling her in for a hug. “My beautiful girl. Look at you all grown up.”
He made her sound like she was eighteen instead of thirty-three. She kissed his cheek and whispered, “Has it been very bad today?”
“Not too bad,” he whispered back, his eyes twinkling. “She only had me go into town three times for things she forgot.”
There was no time for more as her sibs dragged her into the large living area. Nothing would ever make this room elegant. Architectural Digest would never knock on the door and beg for a photo shoot, but with all the newspapers and books and half-finished knitting projects put away, the old furniture polished and flowers everywhere, it looked as good as it ever would. In honor of her birthday, her mother had vases of irises spiking purples everywhere. However, since Iris’s favorite flower was, in fact, the sunflower, the huge happy heads grinned at the purple spikes as though knowing they’d be grinning their happy heads off long after the irises had wilted and died.
As people began to arrive the room filled with conversation and laughter. This, she thought, was why she’d never left Hidden Falls. There were friends here she’d known since she was in elementary school and high school, others she’d worked with over the years.
Dosana was here in a black leather skirt and boots, her sleeveless gray shirt showing off her shoulder tattoo.
Lucky, the family rescue mutt, a golden lab who was convinced she was the twelfth child of the family, got into the swing of the party by dropping her disgusting gooey tennis ball in the laps of anyone foolish to sit with their knees at her head height. Then she backed up a step and stood, staring fixedly at the ball, her tail swinging slowly back and forth.
T
he odd foolish person who didn’t know her very well would throw the ball a few feet. This was a mistake as it meant that Lucky would never, ever, stop retrieving the ball and plopping it back into their lap until one of them died of old age or a family member came by and put an end to the game.
As Iris watched Cooper, her youngest brother, take the ball from Scott Beatty’s lap and head outside, Lucky in hot pursuit, Evan came and sat beside her. The two doctors, Caitlyn and Rose, were deep in conversation. Not about medicine, about shoes. They made a striking pair, both gorgeous, Rose dark and Caitlyn fair, and both deeply girly.
“You’d never know those two were trained medical professionals,” her big brother said, shaking his head at the women as he settled back in the chintz chair beside hers.
“Please don’t expect support from me on that subject.” She extended her own feet to show him. “For what these cost? I could have bought a new lawnmower and it would have been more practical. But I love my shoes.”
“Happy Birthday, kid,” he said. Pulling her in for a hug.
“Thanks. I’m so glad you came. And brought Caitlyn. We all love her. When I think of that lemon Popsicle you almost married…?”
He shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”
“You look happy,” she said. And he did. “Being a small town lawyer suits you.”
“So far. It’s a different life than I ever imagined for myself.”
“I think this is better.”
He laughed. Then glanced at his almost wife. “I think so too.”
“No wedding jitters?”
“Not a one. My only fear is that she’ll realize she’s making a huge mistake and dump my ass before I’ve got her tied down.”
She chuckled. Anyone could see these two were as deeply in love as Daphne and Jack, though hopefully not so embarrassing as to fondle each other in front of company as she could see her parents doing in the dining room doorway.
Geoff could hear the noise of talk and laughter as he stepped up to the door and rang the bell. It was opened to him by Daphne who wore a big smile and smudged lipstick. She hugged him as though he’d grown up in the neighborhood instead of being a guy she’d met twice. “Geoff, I’m so glad you could make it.”
She took his coat, relieved him of the wine he’d brought and gestured to the wrapped gift in his hand. “You didn’t have to bring all this. But there’s a gift table in the dining room. Everyone’s in the living room, go on down there and Jack will get you a drink.”
“Thanks.”
He dropped off the gift as instructed and followed the sounds of a party. Got to the doorway and stopped almost as though a blow had stunned him.
Iris sat in a chintz armchair, nothing sexy about that, but she absolutely shimmered. Her face was alight with laughter as she talked to the way too good-looking guy at her side. Her eyes sparkled, her teeth gleamed as she laughed, her hair tangled with the candlelight, gleaming gold and red. She wore a dress the color of the summer sky right when the light falls and it’s a deep, dusky blue. Brought out the color of the stone at her neck and her blue eyes.
He’d never seen her legs before and he thought that a woman with legs like that shouldn’t be allowed to cover them up with jeans and pants. It was a crime. They were meant to be displayed exactly as they were now, with a dress and those sexy heels.
“Geoff, glad you could make it,” Jack Chance boomed across the room.
He still couldn’t take his eyes off Iris. When she heard her father’s words she glanced quickly up and their gazes connected. He felt the second punch to the gut and he knew right then that whatever happened, he did not want to be friends with this woman. In spite of the complications in his life. He wanted more. A lot more.
It took Jack’s clap on the shoulder to pull him out of his trance. “Thanks for inviting me,” he said, and they shook hands.
“What can I get you? It’s a full bar and we’ve got beer and wine and—“
“A beer would be great. Thanks.”
While his host went to fetch his drink, he walked over to Iris. “Happy Birthday,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Once more her scent assailed him, the sugar and spice of her and some exotically darker note beneath.
“Thank you.”
Then she turned to the GQ model sitting beside her who was looking Geoff up and down with more than casual interest. “Evan Chance, this is Geoff McLeod. Geoff is the new high school English teacher. And Evan is my big brother.”
Feeling much more disposed to like the guy now he knew he was her brother, Geoff held out his hand.
“How do you like Hidden Falls?” Evan asked him.
“I like it. I’m settling in. Jefferson High’s a good school. I haven’t seen you around.”
“No. I live in Miller’s Pond, a couple of hundred miles from here. It’s a good place too.”
“What made you move from a small town in Oregon to an even smaller town in Oregon?” The guy did not look small town.
A look of mixed emotions, some pride, some embarrassment, some amusement crossed his features. “A woman.”
“The right woman,” Iris added.
Geoff followed the brother and sister glances and the whole story was written there. “The right woman,” he agreed.
Then Evan rose. “I’m going to see if I can help Mom in the kitchen. Maybe we can catch up later.” And he vacated the chair next to Iris.
“Nice guy,” Geoff said sitting beside her, appreciating the tactfulness of her brother.
“He’s the best.”
“You look beautiful tonight. You sparkle.”
She laughed. “It’s hard not to sparkle when people you love put on a nice party for you and bring presents and make food.” She raised the glass in her hand, as sparkly as she was. “And open champagne.”
Jack Chance brought him his beer and stopped to chat for a moment. “I’m sorry we didn’t get more of the kids home.” He sighed. “Seems like every birthday we have fewer of the brood home. You’re all growing up, moving away, having busy lives.”
“I got emails and phone calls from every one of them,” Iris said, obviously trying to cheer her dad up. “Prescott sent me an architectural drawing of my house. He must have taken it from a photo when he was last here. It’s gorgeous.”
“He’s a good boy. But he should come home more often.”
“Wait a second,” Geoff said. “Prescott Chance is your brother?”
“One of the many.”
“Prescott Chance the architect?”
“You’ve heard of him?” She sounded amused.
“Who hasn’t? The guy’s legendary.”
“Well, to me he’s a brother. Mostly, I remember him saying, ‘I don’t have to do what you say. You’re not the boss of me.’” She imitated a surly kid pretty well.
“From what I read, no one’s the boss of him.” Not that he knew much about architecture but it was kind of like having royalty or a pop star or something in the family. He kind of liked that nobody made a big deal of it.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t meet him,” Jack said.
Daphne Chance breezed in to announce that dinner was all set up on the dining table and for everyone to help themselves and sit wherever they could find a spot.
“Iris,” she said, “You go first.”
“Oh, no, really.”
“You have to, Dear. You’re the birthday girl.”
With a helpless shrug, she left him and headed for the buffet table. Since his own mother would have his hide if he took food ahead of anyone female or older than him, Geoff waited. He didn’t mind. It was nice to have an opportunity to see her home, her family and friends.
Daphne appeared and took the chair Iris had vacated. “She’s a published author, you know,” she said as though she were aware that he was watching her daughter.
He dragged his attention from the way that dress fit Iris, the way it emphasized some very nice curves.
“Iris? An author?” She’d nev
er mentioned it. Interesting.
“Yes. She was published in a couple of prestigious magazines.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“That’s Iris for you. She always hides her light under a bushel.” She shook her head fondly. “So you haven’t read any of her stuff?”
“No. But I’d like to.”
She grinned at him as though they were conspirators. “Come with me.” She led him out of the main living area and into a library/den/study/sewing room bursting with books and magazines and board games. Two desks and two computers sat on a long desk that looked like a very long plank of wood with some home made legs supporting it. He could imagine the Chance brood doing homework in this room.
Daphne went to one of the overcrowded bookshelves and she pulled out a copy of Atlantic Monthly, bound in clear plastic to protect it.
“Iris was published in the Atlantic Monthly?”
She nodded. “She’s very good.”
He flipped to the page. Barely got to start reading “Gingerbread Chess,” by Iris Chance, when Daphne was handing him a photocopied version, clipped with a staple that had gone in crooked.
“Take it with you.”
“Thanks.” He’d love to sit quietly and read Iris’s story to the end, but he was at a party, so he folded the pages neatly and slipped them into his pocket.
He’d only read a couple of paragraphs and already he was fascinated, about what it revealed about the author as much as the quality of the prose.
Chapter Nine
Even though it was Iris’s birthday, as Geoff watched the family dynamic he noticed that when she was with her siblings and her friends, she did more listening than talking.
And when he was near oftentimes she was either listening to complaints or fears or problems or offering advice.
He was helping himself to seconds when he caught sight of a pencil sketch that showed a much younger Jack Chance, but the subject clearly was Jack Chance. He had long hair in the sketch and seemed so peaceful he could be sleeping. The piece was signed, Daphne Naigle. It was dated 1976.
“She drew that the day we met,” Jack Chance said, pausing beside Geoff. “I insisted on having it framed and hanging it here where I can see it every day. Reminds me of what a lucky man I am.”