The Essence of Shade

by Deborah Jean Miller

  “Ask me anything. I want to be open. I owe it to you.”

  “My dad,” said Shade, stopping for a moment. “What was he like?”

  Amanda drew in her breath. “I don’t know who your father was. I was fifteen and looking for an escape from my miserable life. I thought if I got pregnant, the father of my baby would take me away, and we’d live happily ever after. So, I slept with anyone who appeared interested—and,” her face morphed into sadness, “I gained a reputation as the town whore. When I found myself with child, none of my suitors laid claim to the baby.” She stopped completely, eyes cast down. She held her breath at length.

  Shade studied her. “I’m sorry you had an unfortunate start in life,” she said, taking her hand. “As did I. But it looks like we overcame our obstacles.”

  “Yes,” she said, dabbing her eyes. “I’d like to know more about you and Tyler.”

  It was slow at first, like stepping onto a thinning lake in early spring. But then the words flowed. They spent the afternoon talking, like two long-lost friends. She told Amanda about her work in the prison ministry, the bakery and Tyler’s dream of becoming a professional baseball player.

  “So, you never married again,” said Amanda. “You’re a beautiful woman. You must have met men who were interested.”

  “After I gained custody of Tyler, I decided it would be best if I remained single. I wanted nothing to interfere in our relationship. My focus has always been on him.”

  “You’ve raised a fine boy, and you’ve done well for yourself.” She looked away. Shade caught the shine of tears glazing her eyes. “Shade, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. But I look at you now and think you were better off without me.”

  Shade exhaled sharply. “Maybe so. Life is perplexing. I struggle with this all the time. The ifs and thens. If Adeline would have lived, how would Tyler have turned out? I don’t know the answer. I just know I’m blessed.”

  “Would you be open to talking every now and then? But, I’ll understand if you don’t,” said Amanda.

  “I’d like that. When I asked you not to show up at the bakery, or at Tyler’s games, I was wrong. You’re welcome anytime.”

  “There’s a lot of food left over,” said Victoria, after the guests had left. “Most of these ladies exist on the Parakeet Diet. Bird seed and water.”

  Shade laughed. “Let’s donate the leftovers to the food pantry.”

  “Perfect. Hey, how well do you know Amanda?” asked Victoria.

  “You will not believe this. Maybe we should sit.”

  “Waiter,” Victoria called out, snapping her fingers. “We’ll have two champagnes, please. I have a feeling I’ll need a drink by the look on your face.”

  “Amanda is my birth mother.”

  “What the…,” said Victoria, her eyebrows heading north.

  Shade revealed the details of their complicated lives. “She seems like a nice woman.”

  “Well, you come from good stock,” said Victoria, swigging champagne. “Amanda is well-respected in this circle. Not only is she rich, but she’s also kind. Unlike the other posh princesses. Wow. I can’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m blown away.”

  “Hey, I gotta run. Thanks for the lovely afternoon,” said Shade, embracing Victoria. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone. Not until I tell Tyler.”

  “My lips are zipped. Hey, are you limping?”

  “Yeah, a little. Cheerleading practice.”

  “Oh, right.”

  The angry wheels of the shopping cart had minds of their own as she tried steering the disobedient basket down the produce aisle.

  “Hey, lady. Watch where you’re going,” said the familiar voice, her cart slamming into Brent’s. “You look like you’re in another world.”

  “Oh, Brent,” Shade said, her eyes widening. “You’ll never guess what happened. I went to a luncheon at Victoria’s, and Amanda was there. We had a long talk.”

  “Whoa. That must have been a surprise. How do you feel?”

  “Relieved. I told her to come to Tyler’s games anytime. I’d like you to meet her.”

  “I’d love to meet her, and I’m glad you talked. Hey, I just left varsity practice. Tyler keeps getting better. This should be a good season for him.”

  “I hope so. He works so hard. And he wants this so badly.”

  “I was going to call you tonight, but now I can ask you in person. I’ve been invited to Kyle’s wedding. It’s in two weeks. I was wondering if you’d be my date. No strings attached.”

  “I’d love to. It sounds like fun.”

  The bleachers spilled over with enthusiastic fans on opening day of varsity baseball. Brent spotted several MLB scouts, radar guns locked and loaded, ready to shoot. He pulled Tyler aside before the game.

  “Remember what we talked about. Power, command, control and confidence. If you throw a bad pitch, move on. Focus on the next pitch. And make sure you demonstrate your athleticism. Keep an eye on the base runners, not just the batters. Show the scouts the whole package.”

  “Got it.” Tyler sat trancelike, fingering the ball, foot rapidly tapping the ground.

  “You nervous?”

  “No. I’m excited to show them my stuff.”

  Shade pushed her sweater over to save seats for Leah, Mary and Amanda. She was glad Amanda could come. And Tyler was thrilled to discover he had another blood relative.

  Before the game, Shade took Amanda to the dugout. “Brent, I’d like you to meet Amanda.”

  Amanda reached both of her hands and clasped Brent’s outstretched palm. “I’ve heard so much about you, Brent. It’s nice meeting you.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” said Brent, smiling. He was struck by the startling resemblance she bore to Shade. Her smile. Her eyes. “I hope you enjoy the game.”

  The Edelweiss crowd was on their feet when Tyler struck out the last batter. A no-hitter. He threw seven complete innings, striking out ten and walking one. The final score was 5-0. Brent spotted two scouts heading toward the field.

  “Impressive,” said one scout. “We clocked his fastest pitch at ninety-three miles per hour. When does Tyler pitch next?”

  “In two weeks,” said Kyle. “He has practice tomorrow if you wanna come out.”

  “Thanks. We’ll do that.” He turned to Brent. “I see you’re listed as Tyler’s representative on the scouting report. Here’s my card. Let’s keep in touch.”

  Brent took the card. “There’s been a lot of interest in him.”

  “Yes, we’ve heard. We’re keeping an eye on him.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  There are three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand: the way of an eagle in the sky, the way of a snake on a rock, the way of a ship on the high seas, and the way of a man with a young woman.

  Proverbs 30:18-19

  The dressing room brimmed with cocktail dresses as the sales associate brought in one gown after another. Shade wanted something elegant, but simple.

  Since he returned home, their relationship had transformed into something more comfortable. Good friends. If he had feelings, he kept them to himself. And she felt grateful.

  “Oh, I like that one,” said Shade, stepping into the satin crepe dress. The figure hugging, knee-length navy garment had a plunging cowl neckline with cap sleeves and organza covered buttons running down the back. “It’s so classy. And timeless.”

  “It looks gorgeous on you,” said the sales clerk, admiring her silhouette. “I wish I had your figure.”

  “Thank you,” said Shade, blushing. “Do you think it’s too revealing on top?”

  “Not at all. It’s not like your spilling out. It’s just enough.”

  “What color shoes?”

  “I’d go with silver or nude.” The sales clerk returned carrying a pair of silver Jimmy Choo stilettos with glittery fabric straps crisscrossing over the toes.

  “I love these,” said Shade, stepping
into them. “I look so tall. And they’re comfortable. You’ve been so helpful.”

  The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” said Tyler, springing off the couch. “Wow, Brent. You look like James Bond.”

  He laughed. “How was practice today?”

  “Good. The scouts were there again.”

  “Did they talk to you?”

  “No, just sat and watched.”

  Shade emerged from the bedroom, her eyes fastened on Brent. He looked like a GQ model in his tailored, midnight-blue suit, stark white shirt, and silk navy tie. “Brent, I’ve never seen you in a suit. You look handsome,” she said, smiling demurely.

  “Thank you. Try to keep your hands off me tonight,” he teased, his breath seizing at the sight of her. “You look good, too.” He lied. She didn’t look good. She looked gorgeous. He was second-guessing his decision to bring her. He walked over and gave her a hug, the sweet smell of jasmine piercing his core.

  She drew back, her hand lingering on his shoulder. His eyes held her captive. “Well,” she stammered. “Should we get going?”

  “You two make a nice couple,” said Tyler. “Color coordinated. Did you go shopping together?”

  They laughed, recognizing for the first time the similarity.

  “I think you’re enamored with each other,” said Tyler, grinning. “Do either of you need ice water?”

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Brent. “No telling what he’ll say next.”

  Brent held the car door open for Shade. He placed his hand on her back, guiding her along the curved walkway of the old mansion.

  “Wait. Brent,” she said, grabbing his arm, struggling to step forward. “My heel is caught.”

  Her stiletto had jammed in a metal grate. He bent, while she braced herself on his shoulders. He grabbed her ankle with one hand as he tried freeing her heel with the other.

  The sensation of his palm on her bare skin sent electric jolts through her body.

  “I may have to pull up hard. I hope I don’t ruin your shoe.”

  “But these are Jimmy Choos. Please be careful.”

  “You got these from a guy?”

  “It’s a brand,” said Shade, seized by the hilarity of the moment. Laughter gripped her.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, looking up and laughing with her.

  “How we must look,” she managed to say. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I’m sorry. I don’t get out much.”

  He continued to struggle, amused by her behavior. “I think I got it,” he said standing up and brushing off his pants. “Your shoes look great, but they don’t look comfortable.”

  “Oh, Brent. It’s better to look good than to feel good.”

  He laughed. “Your mascara is running. Try not to make a grand entrance.”

  The reception took place in a historic mansion, set on a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. Swarovski crystal chandeliers dangled from spectacular domed ceilings, light dancing across dark hardwood floors.

  “Do you think you could handle a glass of wine?” he asked.

  He returned with two glasses of red and took her hand, leading her out the French doors and onto the stone patio.

  “What a view,” sighed Brent, as they gazed out, sipping their wine.

  “Hey, Brent,” said Gary Murrell. “Good to see you. Meet my wife, Leslie.”

  “Nice to meet you, and this is Shade Lane.”

  “Are you Tyler Lane’s mother?” asked Gary.

  “I’m his grandmother,” Shade replied.

  “Oh,” said Gary, his eyebrows elevating. “Tyler is a good kid. He’s making quite an impact. We’re proud of him. Well, we’ll see you inside. Looks like we’re seated at the same table.”

  Brent and Shade lingered on the patio, taking in the scenery. “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “A little, but it’s so beautiful here.”

  He removed his jacket and put it around her shoulders. Their eyes met. He looked away and reached for his wineglass. “How are things with you and Amanda?”

  “Good. We talk, but it feels like a forced union of sorts. Like she’s trying too hard—trying to make up for lost years.”

  “Give it time. I was taken by the resemblance between you two. Even some of your mannerisms—the way she smiles and talks.”

  She looked off, pulling his jacket tighter, breathing in his cologne. “Tyler likes her, and I’m happy about that. I’m sure things will get easier. I just need to let down my guard.”

  “Yeah, you do,” he asserted.

  She struck a question mark pose. “That sounded like judgment.”

  He sighed. “You keep people out—so they don’t get too close.” His eyes cast into hers, unwavering.

  She gazed down, caressing the stem of her wineglass. “Hey, do you want to head back inside? My toes are freezing.”

  They took their seats at the table, Gary and Leslie next to them. Brent and Gary talked sports, while Leslie and Shade talked about kids, recipes, and shopping.

  Brent leaned over and whispered, his lips brushing her hair. “Are you doing okay? I hope I didn’t offend you earlier.”

  Her emotions felt like heat billowing off a campfire. Stoked. She smiled. “No offense taken. You’re right about what you said. I tend to build walls—with no doors in them. I’m working on that.”

  Brent drew his hand along her arm. “Maybe meeting Amanda will help.”

  The wine flowed, as servers distributed plated dishes of filet mignon in a burgundy wine sauce, whipped potatoes with chives, and green beans almondine. She needed food. The wine was affecting her.

  She leaned into Brent with her hand on his arm. “I’m happy you moved back home. I missed you.” Her body relaxed, drawn into his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “I missed you, too,” he said, placing his hand over hers.

  “Excuse me sir,” said the waiter, placing their meals in front of them. He continued attending the other guests at their table. As he served a woman seated across from them, the waiter’s mouth fell open, a yelp escaping. His watch had snagged her bouffant updo, dragging her hairpiece and shifting it off her head. The thatch of hair looked like a dead cat dangling from the waiter’s wrist.

  Shade gasped, and turned her face into Brent’s chest, trying to suppress her laughter. Her shoulders quivered. He tried covering her quaking by pulling her into him, his hand bracing her head.

  When she gathered herself, she looked up and whispered, “Is everyone staring at me?”

  “No,” Brent murmured. “You can come up now. They’re watching the waiter arranging the woman’s hairpiece on her head.”

  She let out a guttural cry, standing abruptly and leaving the table.

  “Excuse me,” said Brent to Gary and Leslie. “I’ll be right back.”

  He found her in the lobby, bent over with laughter, struggling to breathe. When she saw him, she grabbed his arm, her eyes like saucers.

  “I’m so sorry,” she blurted, dabbing her eyes, still wearing an exaggerated smile. “The more I tried to stop, the worse it got.”

  “You weren’t alone,” he said, amused by her behavior. “I could feel Leslie shaking beside me. Do you think you can control yourself so we can go back and eat?”

  “I’ll try,” she said, still snickering.

  They returned to the table to find Wig Lady digging into her filet, her adornment sitting askew atop her head. Shade and Brent slid into their seats, savoring their meal.

  Gary held Brent’s ear hostage, rambling on about work-related issues. Shade sensed Brent’s disinterest, as he tried engaging her in conversation. But to no avail.

  The band launched into a rendition of “Come Away With Me”—one of Shade’s favorite songs.

  “Oh, Brent,” she said, interrupting their conversation. “Can we dance?”

  “Please excuse me,” he said to Gary. He got up and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. “I thought you’d never ask,” he whispered to her. He
took her in his arms, his eyes locked on hers. “You okay?”

  She smiled and nodded, hypnotized by the gentle pull of his eyes. She felt the strength of his hand against her back, his other hand cupping hers between them. His fingers curled around hers. The warmth of his breath collected on her face. She drank in the moment, feeling small and safe in his arms. She leaned her head on his shoulder, melting away into a fuzzy security—falling deeper into him—their bodies moving to the slow rhythm. She didn’t want this moment to end. If you only knew how much I love you.

  “This reminds me of Hawaii,” he whispered in her ear, his hair tickling her face. “Our first dance.”

  “When you saved me from Wayne, the Lady’s Man. It seems so long ago.”

  He pulled back, gazing. “You look beautiful tonight. I’m glad you came, despite your antics.” He drew her close.

  She smiled, settling her head on his shoulder, his lips caressing her hair.

  “Shade,” he whispered. “Will you ever trust me enough to share what haunts you?”

  She held her breath before answering, then sighed. “Yes. One day. I will.”

  He inhaled deep. He wondered what it would mean for them, if anything. They continued to dance, molded into one another.

  The conversation was easy and good-humored during the ride home. They climbed the steps to the cottage and turned, facing one another.

  “Thanks for coming tonight,” said Brent, his hands on her arms. “It felt nice. Being with you.”

  “Would you like to come in?”

  “No, but thank you.” He grew serious, measuring her. “I need to ask you something. When you open up—about your past—will that change anything between us?”

  She stared into the darkness before looking at him. “Brent, nothing will change between us,” she said, tears blurring her eyes. “One day you’ll understand.”

  His arms fell limp to his side. He drew his fingers through his hair. “When I told you there were no strings attached tonight, I meant it. I’ve tried pushing my feelings aside, but I can’t seem to let go of you. We can go back to the way things were. To the reason I came back—for Tyler. But there is one thing I know, and you will never convince me otherwise.” He held her face in his hands. “I know you have feelings for me. The same feelings I have for you. I see it in your eyes. The way you look at me. The way we embrace. But I wish I understood what torments you.”