The Guestbook

by Andrea Hurst

  “Formal or casual?” she asked with a grin.

  “I think the establishment requires black tie, but if you don’t have one with you, I have an extra you can borrow.”

  They laughed together. Like everywhere else in town, jeans were probably the attire of choice. Ian walked toward the door. “I’ll just let myself out now. See you at seven.”

  “Thank you so much again, Ian.” She leaned down and scratched Gretel behind her ears. “And you too, girl. Fresh-baked dog biscuits are in order.”

  Lily watched him cross over the field separating their properties, Gretel running to catch up with him. The sun broke through the clouds, casting gold and pink hues across the sky. The country air and sweet smell of saltwater mixed with the permeating scent of damp soil and forest. His closeness lingered on her skin. His penetrating blue eyes seemed to look right through her; she hoped he liked what they saw. “Ah, Lily,” she sighed, “you better get your mind back in the kitchen and leave enough time to get cleaned up by seven.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lily punched in Jude’s number on her cell phone.

  “Island Thyme Café, Jude speaking.”

  “Hi, it’s Lily, do you have a sec?”

  “Sure thing, Lil, what’s up?”

  “Brad paid me a visit and I told him to get out.”

  “Good for you, way to go Lil.”

  Lily sat down in the velvet rocker, reconsidering her impulsively extended invitation from Ian. “And…”

  Jude laughed, “What did you do now, Lil?”

  Lily exhaled sharply. “Ian invited me to dinner.”

  “And you accepted, I hope.”

  “Yes, Jude, I did. Now stop laughing, I’m serious.”

  “So why are you calling me? Certainly not for seduction ideas.”

  “Ok, Jude, I’m sorry I called. I just thought you…”

  “Would talk you out of it, Lily?”

  The clock said 6:15. Was it too late to cancel? “Yes, I mean, no. I don’t know.”

  “Just be happy, smile, and wear a killer outfit, ok?”

  What would she wear? Phone in hand, she headed for her closet and started laying sweaters out on the bed. “I get it, have fun, stop worrying.”

  “Right!”

  “Red or pink?”

  “Underwear?”

  “Of course not, Jude, sweaters!”

  “Depends on your mood, and your hopes for the evening.”

  Lily chose the pink sweater. “Pink then. I have no plans for the evening, just dinner.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much fun, I’m afraid,” Jude said.

  “I’m jumping in the shower now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  ✦✦✦✦

  Lily glanced at the clock. Five minutes to seven. Yikes!

  She thought of Jude’s suggestions. Her most flattering jeans were set off by a rose pink chenille sweater. Her now almost-shoulder-length blonde hair was freshly washed, and the pink lip gloss added color to a Washington white complexion. She was ready…well sort of. Her pulse raced and she felt a bit light-headed. She was probably coming down with something and should cancel, she thought.

  She reminded herself aloud, “It’s only a nice neighbor taking me out for a casual dinner, now calm down.” So what if he was a tall, very handsome man with a wide dimpled smile…and those eyes… Enough!

  The sound of the doorbell did nothing to calm her demeanor. Lily opened the door to see a rather “spiffed up” Ian with hair neatly combed back, a rugged but dapper Eddie Bauer jacket, and nice-fitting jeans.

  “Come on in, Ian.”

  He handed her a purple, beautifully designed, blown-glass vase. “For you.”

  “How beautiful. You really didn’t need to bring anything.”

  Ian shook off his jacket. “Just something I made in one of the classes I teach at the college. I kind of like that one, and you’ll need all the vases you can get when your garden out front hits full bloom.”

  She placed the vase on the coffee table and then hung up his jacket. “Would you like a glass of wine or something?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  His closeness unnerved her in a completely different way than Brad’s had only a few hours ago. But her impulse was the same…to run, at least into the kitchen. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the parlor. I’ll be right back.”

  She returned holding two glasses.

  “What time is the reservation?” she asked, handing him a glass of prosecco.

  Ian sipped the sparkling wine. “We have a few minutes. It’s at 7:30. Hope you’re hungry.”

  “Getting there. You?”

  “Always.”

  His smile threw her off balance. Lily took a moment to get her bearings. What the heck’s happening to me? The first good-looking man I meet and I’m turning into a puddle? Forget it! No more drowning in shallow water, no matter how blue his eyes are.

  ✦✦✦✦

  The pungent smell of spicy tomato sauce wafted out the door as they entered the candle-lit restaurant. Tables covered in blue-checkered cloths, a vase with a single red rose, and a white candle, were all filled with patrons and baskets of crusty bread.

  “Right this way, Ian” the waiter invited. “Shall I bring a bottle of your favorite Pinot Noir?” he asked. It was obvious Ian had been here many times before.

  Lily nodded her ascent. “Works for me.”

  The waiter handed them the menus. “The soup today is minestrone garnished with mascarpone.”

  “Say no more,” Ian said. He looked at Lily. “Shall we start with two?”

  “And a bruschetta to share, please.”

  “Good choice,” Ian said as they continued to review the menu.

  The Willamette Valley Pinot was opened and their glasses filled. She raised her glass to his. “A toast, to new friends.” They clinked glasses. The subtle flavors of strawberry and peach tantalized her taste buds.

  The crisp, fragrant bread arrived on a hand-painted plate. Lily took a nibble and let the flavors melt in her mouth. Ian seemed to be watching her every bite.

  She raised an eyebrow in mock dismay, then broke a smile. “Here have a taste.” She held the cheesy slice to his mouth. A spark of electricity shot up her arm as his lips wrapped over the bite. As he slowly savored the flavor, he uttered a low moan of pleasure.

  She ate quietly, wondering what to talk about.

  “So far away. Want to share your thoughts?” he said.

  Lily blushed. “Sorry.”

  He touched her hands with his fingertips. “Forgiven.”

  “Actually, I was thinking how well things are starting to work out. I’ve learned to light a fire, and I’ll be baking for Island Thyme Café.”

  “Great idea,” he said between bites. “The town has sure missed Maggie’s treats…for humans and for dogs.”

  “My grandmother…I wish I could have known her better.”

  “She spoke of you often, and I know wherever she is, she’s happy you’re here now.”

  “Thanks, Ian. That means a lot to me.”

  The waiter returned to the table and took their order.

  Lily wondered what she was doing here with this man she barely knew. Did he bring a new woman here every week? It was just a friendly dinner, she reminded herself.

  Neither one of them spoke for a while. Lily squirmed in her chair trying to think of what to say next.

  “I’m a bit awkward at this, I’m afraid,” Ian said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date.”

  So he considered this a date. Why would such an attractive man not have been on a date in a long time? Not for her to ask. “You sure have a cute little boy,” she said. “Does he live with you fulltime?”

  In Los Angeles, this was the perfectly normal thing to say, but the minute it came out of her mouth, she wasn’t sure it was here.

  Ian laid his fork down. She watched emotions cross his face. “Jason’s mother died three years ago.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Of all things to talk about, could she have picked a worse subject?

  “You would have found out soon enough anyway,” he said. “It was a car accident…a drunk driver.” He pushed the food around on his plate. “It if wasn’t for my grandfather, I don’t know how we would have made it through.”

  She thought about the sadness that shadowed Ian and Jason. This was it. Her heart went out to him. “If you ever just want to talk, I’m here.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot,” he said.

  The only noise at their table now was the scraping of forks on the plates. Trays of delicious-looking food passed by as waiters scurried to serve their customers. Lily savored the herby flavored pasta. It was a really good meal, she decided.

  “So, how long do you plan to stay on the island?” Ian asked. “Must be a lot different than Southern California.”

  “It was never my choice to live there,” she said. “My mom brought me to California when I was a young girl. I never really felt at home there.” She noticed she had not answered the question about how long she planned to stay. Truthfully, she had no idea. But when she looked into his eyes, the thought of leaving was not on her mind.

  “I’ve had a few shows in Los Angeles. It’s not my kind of town either,” Ian said. “But New York, that’s another place altogether. When I show my work in the galleries there, I try to spend an extra week or two.”

  “I’d love to see New York sometime,” she said, taking the last bite of her dinner.

  Ian finished up the last of the pasta on his plate and washed it down with wine. With a very serious expression, he leaned over to her. “So, tell me what I’ve been waiting all night to find out…”

  Lily eyes widened, her breath came quickly. Thoughts whirled in her brain, some quite pleasant, as she waited for him to finish his sentence. He seemed to be purposely drawing this out, and she hoped he could not see her squirming.

  One elbow on the table, fist resting under his chin, he met her eyes with a probing look. “What would you like for dessert?”

  She released her breath, laughing. “No rest time after such a big dinner?”

  “Absolutely not,” he replied in earnest.

  “In that case,” Lily said, “I did notice Tiramisu on the menu.”

  Ian called the waiter over and ordered two with espressos. “Great, it’s their specialty.”

  Lily stole a glance at Ian’s profile. He was handsome, and his full lips looked kissable. He turned back and caught her gaze. Say something, Lily, something neutral. “What medium do you generally work in as an artist?”

  Warm tones of candle flame danced across his face. “I paint, mostly in oils, and occasionally I work with glass. When I’m not playing hooky over here on the island, teaching pays the bills.”

  “Where else do you show your work?” Lily said sounding a little too Los Angeles for her taste.

  He inched his chair closer to her, and the room seemed suddenly much too warm. “As a matter of fact,” he continued, “the gallery in town here carries my work almost exclusively.”

  Lily sipped her coffee. “I’ll have to go by and have a look.”

  Ian finished the last bite of whipped cream and laid his fork down, leaning back with a contented sigh.

  “If you’re interested, we’re installing the new show I told you about this week, and the opening reception is next Friday. Why don’t you venture out and have a look?”

  “Sounds perfect, I’ll put it on my busy social calendar,” she said.

  “On second thought,” he said, “is it too short notice to commission some of your dessert items for the opening?”

  Lily shook her head. “I don’t think so. I can come up with a short menu for you to choose from tomorrow.” Her first catering commission on the island, and she had no idea what to charge him. She would ask Jude tomorrow.

  “Nothing gooey or with icing please,” he said with a smile. “And here’s my card with email and cell number in case you need to reach me.”

  “Right, of course.” She could see it now, icing all over his artwork!

  “You choose whatever you think is appropriate for about fifty guests and would be complementary with the local Madrona Vineyard’s wine selection. I leave the menu in your very competent hands.”

  She was well aware he was now holding those “competent” hands. His fingers caressed the back of her hands. She could barely breathe and pulled her hands back into her lap. Was this his price for offering her a job?

  “It’s getting late,” she said.

  “Of course, I don’t want to wear you out. Would you like anything else before we go?”

  “Not another bite. It was a wonderful meal. Thank you.”

  After Ian took care of the check, they walked outside. The wind had picked up, and Lily wrapped her arms around herself and ran for the car.

  “You’re cold,” Ian said, turning up the heat in the car.

  One minute he seemed kind, the next she just wasn’t sure what to think. Trusting another man was not high on her priority list.

  The night-light lit up the porch as he walked her to her door then turned to leave. Regret that he was leaving was met equally with doubts about seeing him again. “Oh, I almost forgot. Hold on a sec, I have a bag of fresh baked dog biscuits for Gretel.”

  She went inside then returned to the porch and handed Ian the package.

  Doggy bag in hand, Ian hopped down the stairs. He took a few steps and stopped to look up. “The stars are amazing tonight. Come on out and have a quick look, Lily.”

  She walked over and tilted her head up to view the starlit heavens. “So beautiful,” she sighed. “There are so many of them.”

  Ian placed his coat around her shoulders, leaving his arm to linger there as well. “Yes,” he whispered, “so beautiful.” But as Lily turned to acknowledge his words, his eyes were on her, not the heavens.

  His lips brushed hers with a gentle whisper of a kiss. “Thank you again for the wonderful evening,” he said.

  Ian turned and walked to his car. It took her a few seconds to realize she was still wearing his jacket.

  “Your coat,” she called after him. She peeled it off and tossed it into his outstretched arms. Lily returned to the porch and watched Ian disappear into the cloudless night.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The test baking to decide on the final items for Ian’s art opening had gone well this week, and she was pretty sure what the final menu would be. As she put the finishing touches on her latest recipe, the phone rang. Lily checked the caller ID, it was her lawyer. She picked up phone and just listened; every sentence he said pounded into her gut. “I understand,” she told him. “I’ll get back to you.”

  She hung up and staggered over to a chair to support her wobbly legs. Brad had been gone just a little more than a week, and now this phone call from Karl. It was unbelievable the lows that Brad would stoop to in order to get his way and get her back. The lawyer had been a little encouraging, but his words about what might happen still rang in her ears.

  He was claiming to be broke, saying she owed half the debts, and was probably hiding money every place he knew. Even their cars were leased, except for the Honda she had driven away in, and that made it community property. Nothing was a solid asset she could count on. It was too much to bear. Their whole life together had been based in smoke and mirrors.

  She rifled through her divorce folder looking for the name of the forensic accountant her mother had located for her. She wondered how she was going to pay for that too. But without professional help to uncover assets and income, she was lost and would come away with nothing. It might be best to walk away. No one won with Brad, and there was nothing to win but more debt. She would certainly consider that.

  But now she had to make a list of all the jewelry and clothes that had been gifts from Brad to prove that they were not part of her debt. She thought of the Cartier watches and diamond necklaces, the imported French dre
sses and shoes; he had bought them all to make her shine for the outside world. She didn’t want or need them now, and she would be damned if she would pay for half of them. Besides, she had left them all behind, and he could sell them or burn them for all she cared. At least she was not liable for any debt he incurred after she moved out.

  Exhaustion set in, and all she wanted to do was go lie down in her bed and hide under the covers. All this debt, no income, cancelled credit cards. She tried to remember what the good news was. She dropped into her bed and burst into tears. There was no one to comfort her or come to her rescue. For a moment she thought of Ian, so tender and kind. She was pretty sure he would be there if she reached out to him. It would feel so good to have a sympathetic friend. But she did not want to turn to another man to save her. It was time she did that for herself.

  She had a friend in Jude, she had her mother, and she had her grandmother, whose presence filled every room with her love. She could feel Grandma Maggie as if she were here, sitting on the bed, encouraging her and making her smile. Lily wiped her tears and sat up in bed. She opened the nightstand drawer, pulled out the Guestbook, and propped it open on her lap.

  A few pictures fell out that had been pressed between the pages. One was of her as a little girl playing in the flower garden. Another was of her father giving her a piggyback ride. Her father…she had not thought of him in years. He was a vague memory of someone fun, but someone dark. He’d been around then and sober, most of the time. All of her happy memories were at her grandmother’s, except for the last one before they left the island. Her father driving off in a huff with that woman in the car, her mother in tears yelling for Lily to get in the car, Grandma Maggie saying over and over, “I’m so sorry this happened, Katherine, so sorry.” After he had abandoned them, Lily had never heard from him again. She thought about how bitter her mother had been, how confused she herself was. She knew he’d gone off with another woman, but as a child, she hadn’t understood really what that meant. Didn’t he love them anymore?