“What do you like to do?”
“I play bocce ball—we have leagues here in Martinez—and I love to dance. My wife and I used to enter ballroom competitions. I enjoy cooking, and while the knees won’t let me run any longer, I can walk mighty fast.”
“So you’re involved at the senior center?”
He nodded. “And my church. I drive people for their cancer treatments and I love birding and gardening. Your mother and I have much in common.”
Except she was in there trying to die and he was grabbing life with both hands and loving it. Gillian heaved a sigh.
“Don’t worry, she will come around.”
“How long ago did your wife…?”
“Die? That is not a bad word, you know. She had cancer and she has gone home. I couldn’t ask her to stay around and suffer. She said to me, ‘How will I stand heaven until you get there?’ And I told her that God knew the time and to keep her dancing shoes in shape because surely there is singing and dancing in heaven. She made me promise to keep on living and finding joy every day.” His smile made Gillian wipe her eyes. And at first she’d thought this man could be a gigolo? How far from the truth could that be?
“Do you know the Bentleys?”
“Of course. My wife, Alice, and your mother were good friends.”
“I forget how small a town Martinez really is.”
“Not so small anymore. With all the new subdivisions, Martinez is a growing community.”
“So, how many children do you have?”
“Two sons and two daughters. We have one daughter already waiting for us in heaven. She and my wife, I know they had a grand reunion.”
“You really believe that?”
“I do, with all my heart.” He stared right into her soul. “Do you not believe?”
“I—I’m not sure anymore.” She scraped up the last bit of pastry filling with the tines of her fork. She could feel his gaze warming her head. When she looked up, she saw such love in his eyes that she caught her breath.
He reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers. “Maybe that is one of the reasons you have come home.”
After he left, Gillian remained seated at the table, watching the hummingbirds. If only she could get her mother out here to soak in the sun. She had forty-eight hours before she had to leave. The longer Mother stayed in bed, the harder it would be to get her healthy again.
Chapter Eight
Sailing was more fun with another person along.
Adam raised his face to the sun, catching the glint off a window high on the hill. Hand on the tiller, legs crossed at the ankles, he inhaled the bite of salt water on the wind that brought out even the most reluctant of sailors. Bright white or bold colors, sails dotted San Francisco Bay like huge kites tied to bits of wood skipping over the water’s surface.
He should have worked harder to get his father to come with him. Concern for the man he loved most in this world dimmed the sun. Why was his dad not improving? Did he no longer have that will to live that got him through the first months after Mother had died? Was it depression? Just plain old tired? Or—was something seriously wrong physically? Bill Bentley was not that old. But then neither had his mother been.
To keep the sail from luffing, Adam tacked back but still on a northerly route so he could return to the moorage in Martinez. He’d hoped the wind would help clear his mind, but it only seemed to bring on more questions. Sometimes he felt his brain was really a series of boxes. He’d open the one labeled “Father,” cogitate on that for a time, then close it and open another one. One big box was labeled “What do I do with the rest of my life?” Granted he would assume more of the responsibilities for the family’s nurseries as needed, after all this was not only his inheritance but that of Jennifer and her two children. Maybe next time he took the boat out, he’d ask Jen along. His brother and his wife had loved to sail, but Jen sold their boat when Charles died. Said the memories were too difficult.
The business was improving again, thanks to his father, who had been a wise manager and had hired good people who had chosen to stay on with him. The slip had occurred after Alice had died; Bill had lost heart for the business for a time. Now it looked like it would grow again—if the economy held, that is. Adam tried to keep on top of prevailing shifts in the business climate, but he was hearing subtle murmurs of possible problems. Now was not the time to expand as his father had suggested. One of the many things Adam admired about his father was that Bill carried little to no debt, in both his personal and his company’s finances. Surely an anachronism in this day and age.
Up ahead the Carquinez Bridge loomed closer, the entry to the delta where the Sacramento and the San Joaquin rivers flowed together before the straits that flowed into the San Francisco Bay.
Adam closed that box since no new ideas came to him and dallied with the one titled “Gillian,” a new box and quite intriguing. Why bother thinking on her when she was planning on returning to New York City Monday night? He’d never had a company sold out from under him, but he’d sold one after his brother died. How would he feel in her place? He nodded and ducked as the boom swung in the opposite direction to tack again. As the boat heeled over, spray hit him, making him shiver. Glancing over his shoulder, he knew why. The fog was creeping over the western hills, making him glad he was nearly to his Martinez moorage. He’d been caught by fog on the bay before and had no desire to repeat the experience.
Gillian. He even liked the sound of her name. But what about her mother? Why would someone as vital as Dorothy Ormsby had always been go to bed to die like that? True, her best friend had died, but that couldn’t be it. If the stroke she’d had was that severe, why was she not in rehab or a convalescent home? Was there some way he could help or would he only make matters worse?
Thor rose from where he’d been sleeping at Adam’s feet and strolled forward, his life jacket hooked on a line to a metal cable so that if he ever went overboard, he’d be safe. He loved to sit where the breeze would blow his ears back and the spray could soak his fur.
Gillian. Go-getter would certainly fit. She stepped right in to help her mother the best way she knew how. But now she was leaving. Would she be back? That was the thousand-dollar question. Or ten-thousand. An oil tanker, guided by two puny appearing but powerful tugs, took up the middle of the waterway. Heading back out to sea, it was fully loaded, laying low in the water. Crossing the wake always made a sailor pay attention. Or lose the wind in the sails. The southbound Amtrak train wound along the southern shoreline, whistle blowing as it neared the station in Martinez. That was one of those major changes he’d noticed when he moved back here. The old station had been replaced with an attractive new building, but thankfully not at the expense of the waterfront park where he and Thor loved to run.
Taking tighter tacks now, Adam stood and kept his attention on the other boats heading into moorage. He lowered the mainsail, tied down the boom, and switched to engine power to make tying up far easier. He’d sailed in at times but not on a busy weekend like this one.
Thor barked as they neared the slip. Adam flipped out the bumper to keep from banging into the dock and tossed a line to George, who owned the neighboring boat and had just finished tying off his own sloop. He’d waited to help Adam tie up. Those that moored around him took their boats out often like he did, not like some of the boats that had been moored for months and years without being used.
“Thanks,” Adam called.
“You’re welcome. Have a good sail?”
“I did. Glad I got off the bay, the fog was coming in fast.” He glanced up at the western hills. When the fog hit the tops of the hills, it poured down into Martinez like a huge, gray billowing river. He’d not seen fog do exactly that anywhere else, other than the hills that bordered the bay. “How about you?”
“We went up river, not as much sail traffic.”
“But more powerboats.”
“True.” The man touched a finger to his forehead. “Have
a good day.” He strolled up the floating dock.
Adam tied down the rolled sails, put away his gear, and finally locked the entrance to the cabin. Stepping up onto the dock, he whistled for Thor, who was busy sniffing the dock, inhaling his own copy of the daily news. Maybe Gillian would like to go out to dinner with him?
The thought put a spring in his step and a smile in his mind. “Come on, Thor, pick up your feet.” He could hear dog toenails eating up the dock as Thor surged past him to wait panting at the gate.
When they drove up the hill toward the house, Thor stood on the passenger’s seat, his tail beating out his anticipation. Home meant dinner. So when the SUV stopped two doors down from home, both his ears and tail drooped. The look he shot over his shoulder at his owner said it all.
“I know you are hungry, but in case you’ve overlooked this minor point, you are always hungry. We’ll go home in a few minutes. You wait; I’ll be right back.” Adam smiled as he opened the vehicle’s door.
Thor sat on the seat, looking out the window, ignoring Adam’s exit from the SUV. Even the door slamming didn’t make him look over.
“Be that way.” Adam crossed the street and strolled up the concrete walk. Since Gillian’s car was parked in the driveway, he was pretty certain she was here. He rang the doorbell, checking out his window replacement. One corner of the caulking could do with the addition of a bit more.
He was about to ring again when Gillian opened the door, her smile widening when she saw who it was. “Sorry, I was out in the backyard. Come in.”
“Looks like I need to add more caulking to that window. Don’t care much for the new silicone caulks; the old stuff worked better.”
“I wouldn’t know, but I’m sure grateful it’s fixed. Mother went on and on about a broken window until I could assure her that you had repaired it.” She motioned toward the kitchen. “Want some iced tea?”
He watched her hook a lock of hair over her right ear. “What were you doing out back?”
“Trying to clean up some of the mess. I dead-headed the roses, so maybe they’ll bloom some more.” She smiled again. “Tea?”
He shrugged. “Why not? Thor’s already put out with me because I stopped before going on home. I can’t stay long.”
She retrieved a pitcher from the refrigerator and two glasses from the cupboard.
Watching the easy way she moved pleased something inside him. “How’s your mother doing?”
“Well, at least she’s eating, not a lot, but probably enough for right now. I’ve had her up and out of bed a couple of times, which really pushes her buttons. But she has a bit more color in her face, so that’s good.”
“What does Allie say to all this?” He took the glass she held out to him.
Her eyebrows raised. “Now that is a bit of a sore subject.” Leading the way outside, she took one of the chairs around the table.
“How so?”
“Can’t get her to return my calls.” She glanced up at him. “Sit down, be comfortable.” The bite still tinged her words.
He sat and took a drink, noticing the wheelbarrow full of rose clippings. “Your mother grinds all the garden refuse and tosses it into the compost heap out back.”
“Oh, great. Now, that I’ve never done. When I worked in the garden with her, she had a compost bin but no grinder.”
“You worked in the garden?”
“We all did. Mother loved to garden and wanted us to join her. From some things Allie has said, I guess she’s taught the grandchildren the same.”
“What took you to New York City?”
“I wanted to get as far away from home as possible. Chose an East Coast college and worked my way through four years and later earned an MBA.”
“I see.” But he didn’t really. Why would she want to leave this area? The climate seemed as close to perfect as any he’d found, with water for boating and mountains for skiing, what more could anyone want?
“Why the corporate life?”
“I always dreamed of being a successful woman in a man’s world. You have to admit that the boardrooms are generally male dominated, although it has gotten better these last years.” She sipped her drink. “What about you?”
“Started college, joined the navy, finished college, went to OCS, and before I realized it, I had twenty years in. Retired to go into business with my brother and sold that after he died. Now I’m here to help Dad.”
“Interesting. Both of us here to help an aging parent. I sure didn’t expect this.”
“Neither did I.” He gave a short nod.
“Did you take your boat out?”
“I did, and on the way home, I thought maybe you’d like to join me for dinner.”
She paused. “I hate to leave Mother.”
“I figured that, so my next suggestion is I go find us dinner and bring it back. For three if you like.”
“I was going to make myself a salad and a can of soup for Mother.”
“What kind of food? Chinese, sushi, Tai, Mexican, barbecue, seafood, pizza, you name it, I’ll find it.”
“Mother used to like Chinese, but I haven’t had good Mexican food for a long time.”
“I’ll bring a variety.” He stood and picked up his glass and carried it inside to the sink. “About an hour, hour and a half?”
Her smile made her seem far less intimidating than the frown she’d been wearing earlier that morning. But then the news that greeted her on the television would make anyone scowl.
“Thank you.”
He whistled as he exited the house and returned to the SUV, where Thor wagged his tail, disgust forgotten. That was one good thing about his black canine friend; he didn’t hold a grudge. When Adam got home, he read a note on the kitchen table that said his dad had taken some of the plants he’d potted down to the Martinez store. So he went ahead and fed the dog, then sorted through the mail on the table while Thor ate. A note from Jennifer thanked him for the tickets to a local theater production. An invitation to a barbecue from the manager of the Pittsburg store for both he and his dad was tossed on the table. The power bill, circulars, two catalogs, and a plea for money rounded out the mail. All but the bill he ripped in half and tossed in the trash under the kitchen sink.
After a quick shower, he pulled on tan shorts and a navy Polo shirt, slid his feet into deck shoes, and snapped his watch back on his wrist. Staring into the mirror, he realized he needed a haircut, keeping his hair short kept the curl under control. A quick pass over his chin said the shave from the morning was sufficient. Could he actually call this a date? He shook his head. Jennifer kept trying to set him up with her friends, but until now, he’d not met anyone he wanted to date. And now that he’d found someone he might be interested in, she lived clear across the continent.
Thor followed him to the door and sat when Adam said no.
“Don’t give me that. You were along with me all day.” Adam ruffled his dog’s ears. “Dad will be home soon. Take care of the place.” He locked the door behind him and headed back for the truck.
An hour later he drove back up the hill to park in the same place. He gathered up the two large plastic bags filled with Styrofoam boxes of food, the smells setting his mouth to watering, and whistled his way across the street. When he thought about it, he realized he’d been whistling or humming much of the day.
“Come on in,” Gillian called through the open door before he had time to push the doorbell. “I’m in the kitchen.” She turned to smile at him and then drew back laughing, shock making her shake her head. “You must have enough food there for ten people.”
“Probably, but I wanted a variety.” He set the bags on the table. “Will Dorothy be joining us?”
A shadow passed over Gillian’s face, but she smiled anyway. “I wish, but I’ll be pleased if I can get her to eat some of it.”
She’d changed clothes to a khaki skirt and a cream blouse with a red belt and red sandals. Her dangling red and white earrings drew Adam’s attention to her fac
e. Not that he needed any encouragement. Her perfume teased his nose, light but intriguing, just like the rest of her.
“What?” She drew back slightly, her hand going to check her earrings. “Am I missing something?”
“No, but just looking at you is a pleasure.” He saw the flush start in her neck and work its way upward. “I mean…” He rolled his eyes. “Forgive me, maybe I shouldn’t be let loose in female company. It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten my manners.”
Her smile returned. “I think this is all a compliment. Been a while since I’ve heard one, so we seem to be in the same boat.”
Adam wished they had been. “I invited you, remember?”
“Trust me; you don’t want me in a boat smaller than a cruise liner. You want to eat outside or in?”
“It’s turning chilly now the sun’s gone down. In might be best.”
She fetched the plates from the cupboard and the silverware from the drawer and set the table.
“Don’t bother with serving plates. I’ll just open the boxes, but we’ll probably need some serving utensils.”
“Really casual.”
“Is that all right with you?” She seemed a more formal person, but then he’d heard there was a world of difference between NYC and sunny California.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Fine. Iced tea?”
He nodded and removed the containers from the bags. “I hope you like this. Dad says the Cantina serves the best Mexican food around.”
She brought two glasses to the table and set them at the plates. “I just realized I am starved.”
“Good.” He pulled back one chair and waited for her to sit down.
“Thank you.” Gillian smiled up at him. “This is so much nicer than eating a salad alone.”
Sitting down, he shook out his napkin. “You want to say grace, or shall I?” When she just shrugged, he bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord, for good food, new friends, and healing for Dorothy. May we be aware of all the ways you bless us. Amen.” He looked up to find Gillian’s gaze resting on him. If only he could read the mind behind those long eyelashes.
On Hummingbird Wings Page 7