“I’m sorry, Caroline. How’s your mother doing?”
“She’s okay. Worn out. But fine.”
“Oh, good.”
“I’ll talk to you later … and … have fun.” Caroline sank down into the couch and let out a low moan. It was hard to imagine that her friends were out having a good time while she was trapped in what felt like a torture chamber. She knew it was childish to be jealous, and it wasn’t that she wanted to spoil Janie’s fun. Even though Caroline had been interested in Victor—or maybe it was just his beach house and money—she wasn’t really longing to trade places with Janie. Not exactly, anyway. She just wondered when, if ever, she would have a life again.
Caroline thought about Mitch—specifically about their last conversation when he’d flown up for Labor Day. They had a great time together, and he encouraged her to move back to California. Not LA, but the Bay Area. He thought maybe they could pick up where they’d left off more than twenty years ago, but, as tempting as that sounded, Caroline knew that her first responsibility was with her mother.
“I’m all she has,” Caroline had explained. “She’s the reason I moved back here.” Then he suggested she relocate her mother to the Bay Area as well, and Caroline had just laughed. “If you knew my mother—the condition she’s in, I mean, mentally—you would realize how totally unrealistic that is.”
His brown eyes grew sad. “Long-distance relationships aren’t easy.”
At first she’d felt encouraged that he was even interested in a long-distance relationship, and for several days they had talked on the phone each evening before bed. Then a day slipped between calls … and now he was in the Philippines working on some kind of software deal. They’d exchanged some brief emails, and he’d promised to fly up to Oregon when he returned, but Caroline was getting it … long-distance relationships were not easy. Nothing about Caroline’s life was easy.
In fact, despite her usual optimism, nothing about her life had turned out like she dreamed it would. Caroline hated to admit it, but the truth was she still suffered from Princess Syndrome, the longing to be rescued by a knight on a white horse. More than ever, Caroline longed for someone to sweep her away, to take care of her, and to ensure that she lived happily ever after. Did Mitch fit that description? Probably not. Besides, considering Caroline’s track record with men, she knew better than to hope for as much.
She checked on her mom, who appeared to be snoozing, and decided to risk going out. One fast trip to the nearest store to grab a package of Depends should take less than twenty minutes. What could happen in twenty minutes, especially with her mother’s feet in such bad shape?
But as Caroline drove, she felt her blood pressure rising. She imagined her mother sneaking out of the house, stripping off her nightie and running naked through the streets again. Knowing she could get a ticket, Caroline snagged one of the handicap-parking spaces, ran through the store, snatched up a package of Depends, and ran back to the cash register. An elderly man turned and smiled at her, then, seeing what she was about to purchase, just turned away.
“They’re for my mom,” she snapped at him. “I just hope it’s not too late.”
His eyes widened, and he stepped back, waving his arm forward. “Go on ahead of me if you like, young lady.”
Caroline rewarded him with a golden smile. “God bless you!” Then she paid for the granny diapers, dashed out, and was relieved to see that no one had cited her car.
On her way home, while stopped at a traffic light, she looked longingly out toward the bay, wondering if she might possibly spot Victor’s new sailboat out there. Then the light turned green, and she quickly pulled away. But as she turned to drive west, she glanced at the way the clouds were gathering along the horizon of the ocean. It promised to be a gorgeous sunset this evening. Not that she’d be watching.
Chapter 6
Janie
“There’s one thing I can be thankful for … during all those years working in Chicago …” Victor paused as he lowered the mainsail.
“What’s that?” Janie helped him to secure it.
“Lake Michigan. It’s where I learned to sail.”
“Really?”
He nodded as he checked the anchor. “Marcus talked me into getting a boat when he was about fourteen. Some of his friends’ families had boats, and Marcus has always been one to keep up with the Joneses.” He chuckled. “Turned out that Marcus was prone to seasickness and after several attempts at sailing decided it wasn’t so great. But Ben, who was ten at the time, absolutely loved it. He begged me to keep the boat, and so for years Ben and I would go out whenever weather and time allowed.”
“Your wife didn’t sail?” Other than Victor’s admission that he was partially to blame for the divorce, Janie knew very little about his ex. But she was under the impression he didn’t like to talk about it. And so Janie had never brought it up.
“She and Marcus seemed to have the same problem.” His brow creased. “Guess it was genetic. But it was about the same time I got the boat that Donna moved out.”
Janie felt her eyebrows lifting but tried not to act surprised. “Because of the boat?” she asked.
He laughed. “No. Because of Larry.”
“Larry?”
Victor reached for her hand, guiding her back over to the cockpit to sit. He had anchored the boat in a quiet cove, and the plan was to eat a picnic dinner, which he had packed, and then sail back to the wharf before dark. “Larry was Donna’s boss as well as her romantic interest. They’re married now.”
“Oh.” Janie nodded as she sat on a vinyl-covered cushion. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy.”
“I know.” Victor handed her a paper bag with packages of paper plates, napkins, plastic cups, plastic forks, and several bottles of water. “I haven’t had a chance to outfit the galley yet, so we have to make do, okay?”
“If this is called making do, count me in.” She looked over the calm blue water out toward the bay bridge and beyond to the ocean. So peaceful … beautiful. A sight better than this morning’s nautical experience when they’d rescued Ruby McCann from the fishing boat.
“My caterer was the Safeway deli section,” Victor admitted as he opened another bag, pulling out packages of specialty cheeses, olives, smoked salmon, and even some pasta salad. “Do you think we can make a meal of this?”
“Absolutely.” She opened the carton of olives, popping one into her mouth. “Delicious!”
Next he pulled out a loaf of French bread and bottle of cabernet. “I wasn’t trying to wax poetic, but a loaf of bread and jug of wine sounded awfully sweet for the maiden voyage of my new craft.”
“It’s perfect.”
He glanced around. “Except that I forgot a corkscrew.”
“Do you think there’s one in the galley?” she asked.
He looked doubtful. “The owners took pretty much everything with them to outfit their new boat—a forty-footer, which I think might’ve tapped their budget a bit.” He held up the bread. “And no knife either.”
“I know.” Janie held up her purse with a sly smile.
“Your Gucci comes equipped with kitchen utensils?”
She laughed as she dug down deep to retrieve a red pocketknife.
Victor looked impressed. “You travel with a Swiss Army Knife? Must be tough sneaking it through airport security.”
“It was my dad’s,” she confessed. “I found it in his old rolltop desk. I’m not even sure my dad would approve.”
“Wouldn’t approve of you going through his things?” Victor chuckled. “Or did he think you were dangerous with a knife?”
“Probably both.”
“So you and your dad had some issues?”
“Didn’t everyone have issues with their parents?” She looked away, unsure of how much to say.
; “Some worse than others.” He set the wine bottle aside. “What was it like with yours?”
“My father was a very private man. He sort of kept a distance.”
“My grandfather was like that.”
“My father always seemed to push me away, to hold me at arm’s length. I knew he loved me, but a lot of times I felt that he disapproved of me. I always wanted to make him proud.”
“I can’t imagine any father who wouldn’t have been proud to have a daughter like you, Janie. I don’t really get that.”
“I don’t really get it myself. It’s hard to explain. Anyway, I thought this knife was worth saving … that it might come in handy.” She held it out to him and watched as he fiddled with it until he did, indeed, discover a corkscrew.
“I’ll bet your dad would be proud to think he raised such a good Boy Scout,” he grinned at her. “Always prepared.”
She chatted about other things as she opened the packages and arranged their deli feast on the small table in the middle of the cockpit. She wanted to push unhappy thoughts away from her. They were not welcome on this little cruise. Then she and Victor used their hands to load their paper plates, and finally Janie lifted her plastic cup in a toast.
“To your wonderful new sailboat,” Janie proclaimed.
“To many happy miles and good friends and beautiful sunsets.” He clicked his cup against hers.
“Heavenly.” Janie leaned back and sighed with contentment.
“That’s it,” he said suddenly.
She sat up straight. “What?”
“The name for the boat.”
“I thought her name was Mona Lisa.” Janie was confused. “That’s what it says on the back of the boat.”
“The owners wanted to keep the name, too. It’s after their daughters, Monique and Elizabeth—Mona Lisa for short.”
“Oh … cute.”
“So I need to rename her. And you just picked it.”
“Heavenly?”
He nodded, lifting his cup again. “To the Heavenly.”
She smiled and followed suit. “To the Heavenly. Nice.”
After dinner, Janie offered to stow the leftovers below while Victor straightened out some ropes. The galley was compact, but in the fashion of good nautical design, the area wasted no space. As Victor said, it had been stripped pretty clean. She stuck the paper plates and things in an empty cupboard above the tiny stainless-steel sink, then, seeing that the refrigerator was running, she went ahead and put the remaining food in it, folded the paper bags, and stowed them in a drawer. She was curious as to how Victor would outfit the Heavenly, but if it was anything like his house, it would be nice.
He’d already given her the full five-minute tour, but she decided to snoop around a bit more. She peeked into the sleeping cabin to see the captain’s bed with drawers beneath, mahogany bookshelves lining the walls, and two nicely placed portholes. Very cozy. With the right accoutrements it could be very comfy, too. Not that she planned to spend any time in here. She closed the door and peeked into the bathroom, which was extremely compact, so tight that the space for the toilet and sink doubled as the shower as well. In a way, that made it self-cleaning. She chuckled as she closed the door, then went back up. The sky was just starting to turn shades of gold and pink.
“The Heavenly really is heavenly,” she said as Victor was pulling up the anchor. “It’s like a little dollhouse.”
He frowned. “A dollhouse?”
“Oh, you know. Everything is so small. I guess I meant a playhouse. You’re going to have fun outfitting it.”
He set the anchor into place, then wiped his damp hands on the back of his jeans. “You think that would be fun?” He looked skeptical.
“Of course. Don’t you? Think about it—you’ll need dishes and linens and books for your shelves, and all those personal touches that make the Heavenly your own.”
“Well … now that you put it like that … I suppose it might be fun.”
“Of course it will be fun. And if it turns out half as lovely as your home, it’ll be one sweet little boat.”
He laughed. “You don’t think I was in charge of the interior design of my home, do you?”
“I just assumed.”
He shook his head. “I bought it furnished. Right down to the forks and spoons and bottle openers.”
“Oh.” She studied him. “So you really don’t know how to do that sort of thing?”
“You could say that again. Donna, my ex, well, she was pretty territorial in the house. She knew what she liked, and my suggestions were, shall we say, unwelcome.”
Janie was surprised by this. She and Phil had always made these kinds of decisions together, whether about an expensive piece of art or a mere lamp. They always made sure they both liked it before bringing it home. She wouldn’t have dreamed of forcing her own tastes upon him. In fact, because he’d grown up wealthy and surrounded by quality things, she had always trusted his sense of style more than her own.
“Maybe you’d like to help me with outfitting the boat,” he suggested hopefully.
She considered this. “Well, I don’t consider myself an expert in interior design, but I have enjoyed putting my parents’—I mean my house together.”
“And so far it looks great,” he reminded her. “I think you’ve got great taste.”
“But I wouldn’t be comfortable making decisions for you,” she admitted. “You see, Phil and I always worked together on things like that … so we were both happy.” Janie felt her cheeks growing warm, as if she were propositioning him, like she thought they were going to share this boat. “What I’m saying is that I don’t have the confidence to make choices like that … because it’s your boat. I think you should have a say.”
“Here’s a thought.” He nodded as he began hoisting the mainsail. “Maybe we can work on it together.” He glanced at her as if gauging her response. “And we can make this a job if you like. I’ll hire you as my interior designer.”
She laughed. “No way. I’m not ready for that. But, as your friend, I’d be happy to help you.”
He grinned. “So, help me now, will you? Let’s get that jib up and get ourselves out on the water while the sun is setting.”
Together they got both the main and jib sails up, and within minutes they were gracefully cutting across the bay, enjoying the beautiful colors as the sun and the clouds painted the sky and the sea.
It was after eight o’clock by the time they finished docking the boat and getting her safely tied down for the night.
“Would you ever spend the night here?” Janie asked as he helped her from the boat.
“Here on this wharf, you mean?” He glanced curiously at her.
“I mean in your boat.” She giggled. “As a girl I always thought it would be fun to sleep on a boat docked out here. I’d see other people coming and going on their boats, and, well, I wondered what it would be like.”
“You never slept on a boat before?”
She shook her head. “When we sailed with my husband’s family, we only took day trips.”
He chuckled. “Well, if you ever get the hankering to sleep on a boat, you feel free to come on down here. I’ll even give you a key of your own.”
“Really?”
“Just make sure you’re safe about it. Lock the cabin door and have your cell phone with you. Not that I’ve heard of much crime down here, but you never know … and a woman alone.”
“I bet it would be peaceful,” she said as they walked across the gravel lot to where they’d parked their cars. “The gentle lapping of the waves against the boat.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s peaceful all right.”
“So you’ve slept on a boat then?”
He jingled his car keys in his hand. “Sure … more times than I care t
o remember.”
She stopped next to her car and looked up at his face. His expression, illuminated in the streetlights, was hard to read. “What do you mean? Did you used to be in the navy?”
“No. I just spent quite a few nights on my boat after Donna and I split up.”
“I thought you said she left you?”
He nodded. “She did. But then she came back.”
“You got back together?”
“No. She came back and told me to leave.”
“But wasn’t she the one with the lover?”
He nodded again. “But the boys were in school and I was working long hours and she didn’t want to disrupt their lives. All in all, it made a lot of sense.”
“So you stayed on your boat?”
“Well, it was late spring going into summer, and the marina was pretty close to work, so it was convenient. I actually kind of enjoyed it at first. But after a few months and when the weather started to get cold, the enjoyment factor dimmed considerably.”
“I can imagine.”
“But, you’re right, it was fun.” He touched her cheek. “You should try it sometime.”
An unexpected tingle went down her spine, and she reached up to put her hand on his. “Thanks for showing me your boat, Victor.”
“Thanks for naming her.” He leaned down and kissed Janie gently on the mouth, then straightened back up. “And thanks for the offer to help fix her up with me.”
“Thank you.” She took in a quick breath and steadied herself. So far, this was as far as the romantic side of their relationship had gone—at her request. She had asked Victor to take this thing slowly. Yes, more than two years had passed since Phil’s death, but they’d been married twenty-six years, and letting go wasn’t exactly easy. Fortunately, Victor respected that, and he hadn’t been pushing her. But sometimes, like right now, she considered changing the rules. “Well, I should go,” she said nervously. “I promised Caroline I’d check in with her. She had a hard day with her mom.”
He nodded. “Give her my best. Poor Caroline … she’s got her work cut out for her.”
Hometown Ties Page 6