Prognosis: Romance

by Gina Wilkins

  He noticed the slight stammer, but paid little attention. She was probably still stinging a little about her mother’s thoughtless dismissal of her party-business responsibilities. “I hope you know I’m aware of how hard you’re working to establish your business. When I asked you to join me for a few days in Seattle, it was because I hoped you’d be able to slip away for a short time, not because I don’t think your obligations here are important.”

  “Thanks, James. I appreciated the invitation, really. It was sweet of you to ask me to join you there and to offer to pay the airfare. Just too short notice this time.”

  “I understand.” He didn’t like it, but he understood, he added silently, ruefully acknowledging his own growing selfishness where Shannon was concerned.

  Speaking of which…

  “The old friend you had lunch with,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual, as if he were simply continuing the conversation. “Anyone you’ve mentioned before?”

  “No, she was my best friend in high school. She’s in town on a quick trip to visit family. First chance we’ve had to get together in a couple of years.”

  She. Unaccountably relieved by the pronoun, James relaxed a little in his seat, though the extent of that relief only made him worry a little more about how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to Shannon at the end of the month.

  As many parties as she had organized in the past year, Shannon couldn’t remember ever being quite as nervous as she was about the surprise party for James. She and Haley, the unofficial representative from James’s circle of friends, had spent quite a bit of time on the telephone making hasty decisions during the week that had passed since she’d come up with the idea. Several times during that week, she had asked herself if the suggestion had come to her in a moment of insanity. Sure, she’d performed on short notice before, but this? This was crazy!

  Haley, it turned out, was a genius at organization on her end of the planning. Haley was the one who contacted James’s friends with invitations, collected donations toward the party expenses and helped Shannon make final choices on options James might particularly like.

  Fortunately, Shannon was a good friend to a caterer, Leslie O’Neill, whose services she used whenever possible for her parties, a favor her friend happily reciprocated for this party. Leslie decorated a cake and provided the food for the party, which was being held at Anne Easton’s parents’ elegant home in one of the wealthier Little Rock neighborhoods.

  Anne had volunteered her parents’ home and they had generously agreed. Haley had explained to Shannon that the Eastons—a prominent local surgeon and a retired family court judge—often entertained on their lawn, and had hosted Anne’s friends on several occasions. James wouldn’t think it at all strange to be invited there for a late-summer picnic, Haley had assured Shannon in satisfaction.

  Shannon spent much of that afternoon at the Easton home setting up for the party, with the assistance of Anne and Haley. Anne’s mother, Deloris, a petite blonde with a sweet smile and a slight limp left over from a stroke several years earlier—or so Haley had told Shannon—observed the preparations with interest, making an occasional suggestion based on her years of experience hosting such events.

  Shannon was touched that everyone seemed so eager to make this gesture for James. It was increasingly obvious that he meant a great deal to these people, and that they respected him enormously. They acknowledged his innate reserve, but they were also aware of his kindness, his quiet competence, his generosity and his compassion. Perhaps he had a hard time expressing those qualities, but Haley confided to Shannon that his actions during their past three years of friendship had spoken for themselves.

  “Our little group was sort of like a family,” she expounded as she wound a streamer of silver metallic stars around one pole of the big, open-sided white tent that had been erected on the lawn. “We each had a role to play. Anne was the nurturer, who always offered a sympathetic ear when we needed to talk. Ron made us laugh when we got too stressed. Connor was the coach and the teacher—because that was his job before he started medical school. He could always explain things clearly when we didn’t understand.”

  “What was your role?” Shannon asked, amused by the descriptions.

  Haley laughed wryly. “They called me the cheerleader. I was the one who seemed to give all the pep talks when morale started dropping. The one who assured everyone there was nothing we couldn’t do if we gave it our all.”

  “And James?”

  “James was our rock,” Anne said from nearby. “Calm and steady, quietly getting things done. His condo was always available for studying and his housekeeper always left healthy snacks and decadent treats to fuel us through those long sessions. The material seemed to come easily to him, but he worked right alongside us every minute, making sure we were all fed and hydrated and comfortable—he even made sure we took breaks during the sessions to play and stretch.”

  She could see him fulfilling that role. Taking care of the others while asking for little for himself, taking interest in their lives while sharing little of his own. Not because he was being particularly secretive, she had concluded, but because he didn’t think his own life was all that interesting to the others.

  The mention of his condo and his housekeeper reminded her again of the differences between their financial standings—but looking around the Easton estate, she supposed Anne could identify a bit more with James’s privileged background. Money or social status had not drawn the study group together, nor had they played any part in the bonds that would probably remain between them for a lifetime, no matter how far apart their career paths took them.

  Somewhat wistful now, she concentrated on finishing the preparations for the party that would show James just how much his friends—including Shannon—cared about him.

  James parked in the circular driveway in front of Dr. Henry Easton’s estate without a great deal of enthusiasm. To be honest, he wasn’t in the mood for socializing on this last Saturday evening in September. There had been a lot of social events during the past month and he wouldn’t have minded just crashing at home with a pizza and a good book that evening. Or better yet, spending a cozy, intimate evening with Shannon. He was too keenly aware of how little time remained for him to spend with Shannon before he had to leave for his away rotation.

  But Anne’s parents had decided to throw an impromptu send-off party for all of her friends who were leaving town for the next month and as frivolous an excuse as that seemed to be for a party, he hadn’t been able to say no when Anne had practically begged him to attend. She had reminded him unnecessarily that there wouldn’t be many more chances for them to all be together. She’d made it sound as though graduation was only days, rather than months, away—but she’d had a point that everything would be different for them after those degrees were awarded. So, he had accepted, hiding his reluctance with the skill of experience.

  He might not have minded so badly if Shannon were at least attending this party with him. Anne had encouraged him to ask her. “We all liked Shannon,” she’d added. “Feel free to bring her, if you want to.”

  Of course he had wanted to. It unnerved him considerably to think about how much he wanted Shannon with him—at this party and just about any other time. But she had declined his invitation, explaining that she had a party that evening. If she’d been particularly disappointed, he couldn’t tell, he thought glumly.

  It wasn’t that he resented Shannon’s work exactly. After all, his own was certainly demanding enough. While it was true he had more free time during his fourth year than he’d had before, or would have afterward, he still understood all too well how difficult it was for two people to balance their work obligations. Hadn’t he seen it firsthand among his classmates, so many of whom had not been able to reconcile their hectic schedules with those of former partners?

  It wasn’t even as if he and Shannon had made that sort of commitment to each other, he reminded himself as he climbed out of his
car and locked the door before stashing his keys in the pocket of his navy pants. She’d made it clear enough that she wasn’t interested in tying herself down or sacrificing any of the independence she’d carved out for herself during the past year. She saw them as simply having fun together before James had to leave for the next couple of months—those were her words exactly, for that matter.

  He’d barely seen her during the past week, though they’d spoken by phone and managed to have dinner together Wednesday night. He could almost feel the minutes he could spend with her ticking away.

  At least he would be seeing her tomorrow, he cheered himself as he walked toward the side gate he’d been instructed to take to the Easton’s back lawn. His parents were going to be in Little Rock tomorrow for an academic meeting at the university there and he’d talked Shannon into joining him for lunch with them. She hadn’t been overly enthusiastic about it—and he could hardly blame her—but he had wanted her to meet them, maybe as a way of understanding him better. Perhaps she had accepted for the same reason.

  Though the week that had just passed had been rainy, it was a beautiful evening for an outdoor party. The days were getting shorter now that fall had officially arrived. Long shadows stretched across the front lawn of the stately home as the setting sun painted the sky orange and pink. It was still warm enough that he didn’t need a jacket, but he was glad he’d donned a long-sleeve cotton shirt with his chinos. There was just a hint of coolness in the air as the sun made its descent.

  It occurred to him suddenly that he was the only person on the walkway toward the side gate. Quite a few cars were parked in the drive, many of which he recognized as his friends’, but apparently he was one of the last to show up. He checked his watch with a frown. He was practically on the dot of the time he’d been told to arrive. Usually there were a few stragglers behind him. Ron was notorious for running late, but even his battered car was parked out front.

  Odd, he thought with a frown. This whole evening had a sort of strange vibe for him, actually.

  He pushed open the elaborately curved wrought iron gate and rounded the side of the house to the back lawn where he’d attended a few other events in the past couple of years. The guests certainly seemed to be quiet tonight—he didn’t hear talking or laughter or music or…

  “Surprise!”

  He almost jumped out of his loafers. The moment he’d appeared on the lawn, a group of his friends and classmates descended upon him with the synchronized shout. With a blink of shock, he noted the white tent, the sparkling decorations, the massive cake topped with burning candles, the glittering banner that spelled out Happy 30th Birthday, James. The affectionate smiles all turned in his direction as the guests awaited his reaction. And Shannon, standing beside the cake, her red hair flaming as brightly as the candles, her brilliant smile warmer than the setting red sun.

  He released the breath he had caught when they’d shouted at him in a gusty exclamation. “Holy kamoley.”

  Chapter Ten

  “You really were surprised, weren’t you?”

  “I really was surprised.”

  “And you had a good time?”

  “I had a great time. The best time of my life, perhaps.”

  Shannon smiled contentedly. James had assured her several times that he’d loved the surprise birthday party his friends had thrown for him, but she still liked hearing it.

  She would remember all her life the look on his face when he had realized the party was on his behalf. That the shiny decorations and the beautiful cake and the balloons and gifts had all been provided for him. That his friends and classmates cared enough about him to go to that much trouble to make sure his thirtieth birthday was celebrated in proper fashion.

  They had just walked into his place—the first time she’d actually seen the roomy, upscale condo. In the daylight, she knew he would have a lovely view of the red bluffs of the Arkansas River from the large balcony on the other side of spotless glass doors. Now, in darkness, the river looked like rippling black satin studded with the diamond reflections of city lights.

  His decor was understated but elegant, undoubtedly styled by a professional. The colors were a bit muted for her taste, but the effect was peaceful rather than sterile. The big-screen TV and video-game systems prominently displayed in the otherwise rather formal residence should have been jarring—instead, they made her smile. Remembering the things Anne and Haley had told her about their study sessions, she could easily picture the friends relieving their stress with rowdy, shoot-’em-up games.

  “Where do you want these things?” she asked, her hands filled with the gifts she’d helped him carry in.

  “Just dump them on the table.” He nodded toward the big dining table at one end of the open space that flowed from kitchen to dining area to living room. “I still can’t believe everyone did this,” he added, setting the boxes he’d carried beside the ones she deposited on the table.

  She smiled at him. “They wanted to.”

  He searched her face with narrowed eyes. “Whose idea was it originally?”

  “The subject came up while you, Connor and Ron were getting food at the bar the other night. Anne, Haley, Mia and I started talking about your upcoming birthday. I mentioned that you’d never had a surprise party and it sort of evolved from there. They asked me to put it together, which wasn’t that difficult since Anne’s family volunteered the venue and Haley took care of inviting people. The rest was just a matter of ordering food and cake and doing the decorating.”

  She laughed softly. “We didn’t think you’d particularly want to do craft projects or play games, so we chose mingling, eating and roasting for tonight’s entertainment.”

  The “roasting” part had been Ron’s idea when he’d heard about the plans for a surprise party. All of the study group and a few other good friends from their class, even a couple of their favorite instructors, had prepared very funny “tributes” to James, which he had accepted with good-natured grimaces. When it had been his turn to make a speech, he had done so graciously and sincerely.

  Drawing a deep breath, she plucked a flat, square, still-wrapped package from the pile of open gifts. “You have one more present to open.”

  He had probably noticed that there had been no gift from her at the party. Not everyone had brought presents, mostly his closest friends. Shannon hadn’t wanted him to open the one from her in front of the others, so she had smuggled it in among the other items she’d carried up to his condo. “I know your birthday is still technically a couple weeks off, but since we’ve been celebrating tonight…”

  “You didn’t have to do this.” His hands brushed hers when he accepted the gift, his fingers lingering over the contact long enough to make her pulse trip a little.

  She had to silently clear her throat before answering, “I know. I wanted to.”

  She still wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing by buying this gift. Not just because it had taken a sizable bite out of her budget for the next month, but also because she wasn’t at all sure James would like it. She had deliberated before buying it, then again while wrapping it, even while carrying it through his door, and she still wasn’t certain she’d made the right choice.

  Maybe he sensed her qualms—or maybe they were written all over her face. Unlike James, she had never been very good at masking her emotions. He frowned a little when he tore away the blue-and-silver-swirled wrapping paper.

  Her fingers interlaced rather tightly in front of her, she focused intently on his face when he studied the gift, trying to read something—anything—in his unrevealing features. Feeling a little light-headed, she realized she was actually holding her breath and she made herself release it. “Well?”

  He raised his dark eyes to her face and though she couldn’t quite read his thoughts in them, she suddenly sensed that she had made the right choice, after all. “I love it,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re sure? I don’t want you to be sad when you look at it.�
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  “It doesn’t make me sad,” he assured her, cradling the small, framed watercolor in his skilled hands. “My memories of my grandmother are happy ones.”

  She had half expected the little painting to be gone when she’d returned to the art gallery earlier that week. But the little garden scene of roses and a watering can, surrounded by a somewhat rustic, five-by-seven frame, had hung exactly where James had first spotted it. “I hoped you would feel that way about it.”

  “I do.” There was still little expression on his face, but she thought there was just a slightly husky edge to his voice now. Possibly a sign that he was touched by her gift?

  It bothered her that after all they had shared during the past six weeks, he still kept his deepest emotions hidden from her. It was just as well that she wasn’t hoping for long-term from him, she told herself with a hollow feeling deep inside her chest. That would be too frustrating for her in the long run. She could tell he liked the gift, and she sensed that he was affected by her gesture, but for all she could determine from his face, it meant no more to him than the books, photo frames, pens and notepads he’d received at his party.

  She supposed it was unfair of her to have hoped for more from him than he’d given those people who had known him so much longer, who had shared so much more with him than a few weeks of play and a few nights of passion. It was completely unreasonable for her to think that she and James had shared something during these past six weeks that had reached a special, formerly inaccessible part of him.

  They were only having fun while he prepared to leave the state in pursuit of his future career. They’d actually spelled out the terms of their friendship—no strings, no loss of independence on either part, no plans for the future. It was exactly what she’d told herself she wanted and he needed.