In Plain Sight

by Susanne Matthews

  He slowly pulled away from her. He moved her out of his arms and gently lifted his hands to touch her face as he’d done before, seeing her through his fingers. The soft touch, more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced, made her tremble.

  “I have an image of you in my mind, but I doubt it does you justice. You must be so beautiful,” he said, pulling her back into his arms and raining kisses along the side of her face. His lips moved to hers again. She closed her eyes in an effort to imprint every detail of the experience on her memory. His lips captured hers and suckled at her lower lip, urging her to open to him once more. His tongue stroked her mouth, making her feel more needy than she’d ever felt. When their tongues met, they tangled and twined, evoking memories of a more meaningful and primitive act. Her breath became a series of ragged gasps that echoed his. He swallowed her moans and whimpers. He was the master, and she was his willing slave. This was more than a kiss; it was a blending of souls. When he pulled away, she was bereft, yearning for the feel of his body pressed against hers.

  “It’s getting late,” he said as he pulled in a lungful of air. She could feel his heart pounding. “We both have to work tomorrow. I meant what I said earlier; I don’t want you to leave. This — what we have here — you and me, it’s real. It’s more than lust and sex. I care about you, Misty. I want things to work out between us, and I’m willing to wait. It might very well kill me, but I’m willing to wait. I want to keep you safe.”

  His last words were like a bucket of cold water reminding her of why she was here in the first place — not to fall in love, though she had, but to keep herself and Debbie safe.

  She reached up and kissed him softly. “You are a good man, Nick Anthony. Too good,” she whispered, her breathing nothing more than rapid, shallow pants. “I’d like to see if we can build a relationship, too. Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  By the time she reached her room, he’d begun to play “Misty.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Monday turned out to be another rainy day. Misty grabbed a quick shower and hurried to make breakfast and lunches. She’d made oatmeal with raisins and cranberries and spooned it into Debbie and Christy’s bowls. She added maple syrup, whipped cream, and sprinkles on top. The girls ate up their breakfast treat quickly.

  “Morning,” Charlotte said, entering the room. “I can drop the munchkins off at daycare. I’m off early this afternoon, so I can pick up, too. Yum … I’ll have mine with yogurt.” She indicated the hot cereal Misty had ladled into a bowl while Charlotte poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “That would be great,” said Misty. “I can do it tomorrow since I know you work late Tuesdays.”

  Nick came into the room, his hair still wet from the shower, and if Misty hadn’t been holding the coffeepot in one hand and a cup in the other, she’d have thrown herself at him. His kisses last night had left her wanting more, and she’d had erotic dreams the likes of which she’d never had before. Just thinking of them made her heart beat faster and her breathing quicken. She hoped Nick wouldn’t notice — with those ears of his, you never knew. She really needed to talk to Amos, but he wouldn’t be back until Sunday, and this wasn’t a topic they could discuss over the phone.

  • • •

  When she got to school, she was surprised to see how effectively the grapevine had functioned. The staff representative had given her a generous gift certificate for a ladies’ clothes store in Potsdam and commiserated with her over her loss. She’d also praised her performance the previous night at the musical.

  “You should be on Broadway,” she said. “With that voice, you’d be a big star in no time.”

  “Yes, she would,” said Kelly Duncan, the high school music teacher, who’d entered the elementary staff room. “I know I’m slumming,” she laughed, “but I just wanted to add my congratulations. I was speaking to Nick earlier this morning, and he said you did a wonderful job. I heard you the other day; I have tickets for the closing performance.”

  “Thank you.” Misty knew full well that Nick had arrived at school only moments ago and had spent no time with the woman as she was implying. Kelly’s cloying scent filled the room, and though she’d obviously eased up on it, the woman hadn’t taken the “no perfume” rule to heart. Misty thought of her patchouli and reddened. She was still using it because Nick liked it, so was she any better? For some reason, she didn’t like Kelly, and she’d allowed it to cloud her judgment. She was jealous of the beautiful redhead, and that was all there was to it.

  “I heard your house burned down last week. That must be tough. I hope no one was hurt.”

  “No; my daughter and I were out. We’re both fine, thanks.” She tried to make her answer sound friendly, but her efforts fell short.

  “So you were able to move back in?” asked one of the elementary teachers standing nearby. From the look on the woman’s face, she wasn’t a fan of Kelly’s either.

  Caution dictated her answer. “No, we’re staying with friends until we can rebuild. I have to get to work.”

  “So do I. Ciao all.” Kelly left the room as quickly as she’d entered it.

  “I really don’t like that woman.” Amber handed Misty the cup of chai latte she’d brought her. “She’s trying to get her claws into Nick. You’d better watch her or she’ll start poaching on your property.”

  “Nick isn’t my ‘property,’ as you put it. He’s my boss and my landlord and the play’s musical director. I have to get back to the office.”

  She hurried out of the staffroom, but she could hear Amber’s laughter and comment before the door closed behind her.

  “Sure he is. Keep telling yourself that.”

  • • •

  The rest of the week followed the pattern they’d set on Monday. They ate breakfast together each morning, and then she and Nick traveled to school together while Charlotte took the girls to daycare. Since Nick’s responsibilities with the band ended at half past ten, Nathan picked him up and took him back to the estate. Misty had collected the girls only once since Charlotte’s hours were better than hers. Since they both carried two car seats, a change in plans wasn’t really a problem.

  She knew things would be quite different once Charlotte returned to her own home. Nathan had offered to collect Debbie if Misty got tied up at school. They’d actually had to put that plan in place on Thursday when a surprise after-school meeting had made it impossible for Misty to get home before the performance. Charlotte had taken care of supper — a slow-cooker pot roast Misty had put on before leaving for work — and Nathan had driven Nick back to town when he’d collected the girls.

  • • •

  At last, the night of the final performance arrived. The rain had finally ended, and the day was warm and sunny. It was a relief to see something other than gloomy, gray skies. Misty and Nick sat on cushioned chairs at the new patio table. He’d ordered one for the play area because he found sitting on a picnic bench uncomfortable.

  The picnic table beside them was covered by a variety of dissimilarly shaped pies and cakes, all created out of the white play sand Nick had had delivered, and because it was still damp, the girls were busily digging in it and creating what, to their imaginations, were culinary delights.

  Nick sat across from Misty, an empty coffee mug on the table in front of him. “Have you ever considered singing professionally?” he asked, startling her. “You mentioned that you’d trained at Julliard.”

  So he hasn’t forgotten as I hoped he had. The thought set into motion the acidic butterflies that hibernated in her stomach.

  “I did for a while.” Debbie fell and started to cry, stopping Misty from revealing more than she had. Studying at Julliard didn’t fit her carefully crafted cover story.

  “What were you going to say?” he asked when Debbie’s boo-boo had been attended to and Misty sat beside him again. He
reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers.

  She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, hoping he couldn’t sense her nervousness. He seemed to pick up on things like that quite easily. She took a deep breath and tried to relax.

  “We were talking about your singing career.”

  She laughed nervously. “For a while I dreamed of being a singer, of performing on Broadway, and seeing my name up in lights, but I realized a long time ago that not all dreams can come true.” That was the truth — sort of — but the longing in her voice couldn’t be hidden, and she knew he’d know how she felt. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

  “I’d like to make all your dreams come true,” he said softly and turned her hand over to place a tender kiss on her palm. Shivers of delight raced from her hand to her core.

  “You have an incredible voice. A talent like that is a gift. It shouldn’t be hidden. You should think about performing professionally. I have friends in New York, agents I could talk to if you’d like.” She was reveling in the magic his hand on hers was creating and almost choked on the mouthful of water she’d taken when she realized what he was saying.

  “No, Nick,” she cut him off, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. Dreams of fame and fortune have no place in my reality. I’m the only one Debbie has, and she has to come first. I’m quite happy to remain an amateur, singing in the shower and in the odd musical here and there.” She pulled her hand out of his and stood, collecting the two coffee mugs as she did. “Now I think it’s time these two were bathed and fed. It’s after four, and we need to eat before the performance.”

  “Whatever you say,” he said, “but you should still consider it. I mean it. You know who I am, so when I say you have talent, I’m not just blowing smoke.”

  She laughed. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll talk to an agent when you go back to performing.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” She stopped and looked at him. He seemed sincere. “Just remember, Misty, you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  She knew his sight was coming back. He’d told her about his visit to Dr. Adams and the grayness that had replaced the darkness. How much could he see? While she’d be thrilled to have him regain his vision, she prayed he wasn’t planning on returning to the stage any time soon. If he became Nico Antoni again, would he even care about Misty Starr? If she went back to New York, back on the stage, someone might recognize Shannon O’Hara, even though she’d only sung in a supper club and had a couple of bit roles on Broadway, but that was a risk she wasn’t ready to take.

  The girls were playing with their mermaid dolls in the Jacuzzi, and Misty was taking out their pajamas when she heard her cell phone ring. Since she’d been expecting a call from Amos, she checked the phone, but when she saw it was another “number unavailable” call, she scowled. What was it with this person? There’d been at least five calls each evening, calls she hadn’t answered. In fact, she hadn’t turned the phone on for more than a few minutes each night checking for a message from Amos. When there’d been none, she’d turned it off again.

  She tried to redial the blocked number, but she got the same recording she’d gotten before. “Your call cannot be completed. Please dial the international code and then the area code to proceed.” Since she didn’t know the international code, that was as far as she got. She’d mentioned it to Amber who’d advised her to ignore it.

  “I’ll bet it’s that phone scam from the Caribbean I got last year. They get you on the phone and tell you you’ve won money or a fancy car, but they need five hundred dollars to process your winnings. It’s all bullshit. Mabel fell for it, and she’s out five hundred bucks; she’s still awaiting delivery of her Rolls. Sooner or later, they’ll realize you’re not going to answer and stop calling. If you kept your phone on, they’d have reached you by now, but that thing is old, and the signal is poor. I don’t know why you don’t upgrade to a new phone with better options. I know, I know — you don’t need a better phone.”

  Maybe Amber was right and it was time to get rid of her burner phone and get something a little more sophisticated. She’d look into the cost next week. She turned off the ring tone, put the phone on vibrate, and then put it on the dresser. Amos’ friend, Alexis, had called the school on Friday to say she and her husband would be at the fire scene tomorrow morning. It was strange the way that went; first it was your home, then it was your fire scene. She’d be glad when everything was settled. The fire inspector had filed the report stating that the cause of the fire had been accidental gas leak faulty valve, and the insurance company had sent a check, most of which had gone to the bank to pay off the remaining mortgage on her “fire scene.” Misty had relayed that information to Alexis, who’d said, since she was here, she might as well have a look anyway. Once Amos got back, Misty would meet with them for the full report.

  Dinner was lasagna, made the way Nick liked it, and Nathan and Charlotte offered to clean up so Misty and Nick could leave and get to the theater in plenty of time. The drive in was uneventful, although it had started to rain again, and the roads were slick. Misty worried that something was bothering Nick. He’d been distant since their discussion in the afternoon. Had he realized she was lying, or worse, was he contemplating going back on stage?

  She was putting on her costume when Amos and Beryl came into the dressing room.

  “You’re back!” she cried. “I was afraid you’d miss the last performance. I must say you both looked nicely tanned. We’ve had nothing but rain all week.”

  “So I heard,” said Amos. “I spoke to Alexis yesterday. She and Jake were enjoying the spa at the hotel in Canton.” He leaned in and kissed her. “Break a leg, honey. We’ll be cheering for you.”

  • • •

  The last show was their best one yet. After the performance, Laura stood up and announced that forty thousand dollars had been raised, more than they’d hoped for, and she thanked all those who’d purchased tickets for the play and raffle tickets. An anonymous donor would be kicking in the other twenty thousand to top off the community’s share, and the rest of the needed one hundred thousand dollars would come from the state.

  Nick and Misty drove over to Murphy’s Tavern where the cast and their friends had gathered for a celebratory drink. Tonight, the popular drinking hole was a mecca of activity, packed as it was with the cast and their spouses. Kelly Duncan was there, too. Although Misty couldn’t see her, her perfume was unmistakable. Was Amber right? Did Kelly have her sights set on Nick?

  He ordered a round of drinks, and Misty had a spritzer, but since she was driving, that would be her only drink. Drew, the bartender, hit the small gong that he kept on the bar for patrons who wanted the crowd’s attention, and Nick stood up straight and raised his glass.

  “I’d like to propose a toast.” He cleared his throat. “Over the past decade, I’ve been privileged to hear many different singers perform in the role of Mary Magdalene, and without a doubt, I declare that Misty is the best one I’ve ever heard. To Misty, a woman with an angel’s voice, a voice I hope to hear sing again.”

  A rousing round of “Here, here” and applause greeted his toast. Misty smiled shyly as she accepted the accolades of her fellow actors and the other bar patrons. Kelly added her good wishes before stepping over to speak to Nick.

  Misty felt uncomfortable being the center of attention like this. She always had. It was different when she was on stage; she wasn’t herself then. She felt Nick put a proprietorial arm around her.

  “You see? I’m not the only one who thinks you have talent.” He kissed her softly, and the hoots that followed made her blush. He’d staked his claim for all to see.

  Once Nick had finished his beer, they wished everyone goodnight and headed out to the car. It was raining slightly, and the dampness had a way of chilling you righ
t through to the bone. Since they’d been late arriving at the bar, Misty had had to park in the overflow lot, and the short distance to the vehicle was enough to set her teeth to chattering.

  “Come here,” said Nick, putting his arm around her and pulling her into him as they walked. “I don’t want my best girl to catch cold.” His words warmed her.

  As soon as they were both inside the vehicle, Misty started the car and turned on the defroster. Although the rain wasn’t freezing, it was quite cold outside, nearing the zero mark, and the roads would be slick. As she reversed out of the parking spot and turned onto Main Street, she sincerely hoped all the deer were safely abed deep in the woods. Something about the way the car handled as she headed out of town didn’t feel right. She had an appointment at the garage on Wednesday, but she might call and see if she could move it up. She frowned. The car pulled to the right, and when she put on the brakes, she seemed to have to press harder than usual to get them to respond. She’d be glad to get home.

  “What’s wrong?” Nick asked. “You’re too quiet, and your breathing is irregular. Something’s bothering you. What is it? You’re not upset about the kiss in the bar, are you? I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I want everyone to know you’re taken; you’re mine.”

  “No, it’s not that, although that’s pretty great. The car’s acting weird,” she began. “It doesn’t feel right. It pulls, and the brakes are sluggish. I made an appointment to have it tuned next week. Last fall the mechanic told me I’d need new brake pads come the end of the summer, but maybe they’ve worn out faster than expected.”