A Heart of Stone

by Lyn Cote

  Tish’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Then she tossed her head. “So?”

  The girl’s brazenness fanned Jane’s indignation. “It is sneaky. It is dishonest. Don’t you have any idea what a reputation is? If I told this—in a town this size—no one would ever hire you again.”

  “You won’t tell anyone,” Tish answered in a cool voice, and crossed her arms over her breast.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “My parents. If you talk about me, they’ll be humiliated.” Tish stared narrowly into Jane’s face, seeming to dare her.

  The girl’s audacity momentarily robbed Jane of speech.

  “You won’t hurt my parents,” Tish explained in a sickly sweet tone. “So you won’t tell them. I didn’t steal anything, anyway. It was just a little borrowing.”

  Jane found her voice. “You’re fired.”

  This time Tish’s face did register surprise, but she regained control quickly. “I quit.”

  “I said you’re fired.”

  “I’m going to tell my parents that I needed to do more reading before the school year, so I decided to quit. May I have my last check please?” Tish held out her hand.

  To disgusted to argue further, Jane reached back without looking, picked up the lone envelope and threw it at Tish.

  Tish smirked, picked it up off the basement floor and exited elegantly up the steps.

  When the girl was gone, Jane sank onto the edge of her desk. Several minutes passed while the confrontation played over and over in her mind: “You won’t hurt my parents.” How could she tell Uncle Henry and Aunt Estelle the kind of emotional extortion their daughter was guilty of? Tish had attended church faithfully all her life. Hadn’t anything sunk in?

  Jane had wanted the size-eight mystery solved. But where could she go from here?

  Chapter 11

  Posing again, Jane carefully wiped all inner frustration from her features and lifted her face into position for Lucy. She was still angry with Tish, Cash, and Lucy’s scolding still stung.

  Just a few feet away to Jane’s right, Cash played with Angie who was toddling. Her only success at distancing Cash had been that instead of letting him pick Angie and her up as usual, Jane had arranged to drive to Lucy’s on her own. All the progress she had made in sharing Angie with Cash had been reversed. The thought of seeing Cash take Angie away for a day on their own made Jane ill.

  Cash’s playful teasing made Angie giggle. Jane’s neck tightened. She cleared her throat. “I can’t believe this is the last sitting and I’m still having a hard time posing.”

  Lucy nodded, but it was obvious that she was fully involved in finishing the portrait.

  “This little girl is unstoppable.” Shuffling behind Angie, Cash came into view. He was holding the child’s hands above her head, helping her walk.

  “She’ll be walking by herself soon,” Lucy murmured, then paused and stood, gazing at Jane.

  Cash said, “One of my carpenters said his little girl walked at nine months—”

  “That was his little girl,” Jane snapped.

  Cash looked up at her, showing his surprise. “I didn’t mean anything against you—”

  “Of course not,” Lucy said soothingly. “Jane, let that frown go. I need your face... Yes, that’s it.”

  While Lucy worked intensely on the portrait, Jane could hear her grandmother muttering to herself.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jane kept tabs on Cash and Angie as they made their circuit around the room. Angie was endlessly intrigued by all the small sculptures and fine china on the low maple tables and shelves. Jane tried to keep her focus on the toddler.

  Cash could feel Jane’s attention on him...not on Angie’s halting progress. He was also gripped, dominated by an awareness of her. Ever since that day they drove home from Wausau, every time he detected her cinnamon fragrance or saw sunlight touch her hair, he thought of the feel of her skin against his cheek, on his lips.

  He knew that her response to him that day had been more warm and enticing than he’d ever imagined. But after his proposal, she had turned into a sharp, abrasive ice maiden. Now every time he encountered her he felt waves of frigid animosity flowing from her, warning him away.

  Earlier in the year she had initially sparred with him over joint custody. After their June showdown, he thought she had gradually begun to come around. But this iciness was much worse than either previous phase. What had been so awful about his proposal? Their marrying for Angie’s sake only made sense.

  “It’s done,” Lucy announced simply.

  * * *

  Jane felt an unexpected shiver of excitement go through her. “May I see it?”

  Lucy nodded, and Jane rose to stand beside her. Warily she looked at the canvas. There she was, in her grandmother’s peach dress, sitting on the white wicker. But her expression in the portrait was what snagged her attention. Lucy had, of course, painted her granddaughter in a flattering way—Jane had expected that. But Jane’s expression was at once winsome, wry and somehow wistful.

  She touched her grandmother’s shoulder affectionately, feeling Lucy’s soft, worn cotton blouse under her fingertips. “Is that how you see me, Grandmother?”

  Lucy put her hand over Jane’s and whispered into Jane’s ear, “Now if only Cash would be smart enough to see it.”

  Jane experienced a sudden desire to cry. Resolutely she pushed it away. “Mom and Dad will be pleased with it.”

  “Great job,” Cash said, arriving beside Lucy. Angie clapped her hands and leaned forward to Jane. Jane took her into her arms.

  “It’s only four days away,” Jane murmured, keeping her eyes on her grandmother.

  “Yes, we cut it a little close,” Lucy said. “Jane, why don’t you wear the dress to the party? It will make the presentation of the portrait more striking.”

  Jane pursed her lips. “If you think I should.”

  “Your parents’ party is only four days away, and that means Angie’s first birthday is only seven days away,” Cash pointed out.

  Ice closed around Jane’s heart. Twelve days till Angie would leave her for a day. She fought to ease her mind and emotions of the tangle they were in. And failed.

  Jane smiled as cheerfully as she could at Angie, who sat in her car seat in the SUV. What’s wrong with me tonight? I am delighted that my parents are celebrating thirty-five years together. Angie looks adorable in her new pink dress with ruffles and lace. I know Mom and Dad will love the portrait. It would, all in all, be a festive, joyous evening with family and old friends. What had caused her emotions to snag together into a tangle of knots?

  She knew the answer without voicing it. Cash Langley. Of course he would not dream of staying away tonight. Their two families had been friends for generations. But having Cash near, while she celebrated her parents’ long-lasting love, would rub her like salt in an open wound.

  She pulled up near her parents’ summer home and parked in the crowd of cars at the base of the hill. With Angie in her arms, Jane, wearing heels, walked up carefully. Ahead in the doorway her grandmother waited. In honor of the occasion, Lucy wore one of her vintage Paris originals, a simple bell-shaped dress in pale green.

  At the door Lucy greeted Angie. “I’m so happy you could come, little Miss Angie,” she cooed to the baby, kissing her cheek. “Hello, my darling.” She kissed Jane, also, and gave her a glance filled with love and concern.

  Jane could only nod in response because she was already forcing back tears.

  Next in the informal receiving line were Jane’s parents. Her father kissed her and teased Angie. Marge smiled in delight and claimed Angie for a quick hug. Another couple came up the steps behind Jane, so she tried to retrieve Angie from her mother, but the baby refused to leave her grandmother.

  Immensely pleased, Marge leaned forward to murmur to Jane, “I’ll keep her. Cash has your corsage. You look wonderful in Mother’s dress.”

  Jane nodded and entered the hall, then the living r
oom. Her own feeling of tentativeness in these familiar surroundings unnerved her further. Her arms felt empty without Angie’s reassuring company. Soft, taped music played in the background. Musicians would come later for the dancing. The large L-shaped dining-living room was already full of cheerful people, talking and eating hors d’oeuvres. Jane tried to shake off her melancholy and behave naturally.

  * * *

  Cash saw Jane enter. Holding the corsage box in front of him like a peace offering, he moved through the crowd to her. She turned and caught sight of him. He froze. For a few seconds he could only stare. Surely he should have gotten used to seeing her in the dress she had posed in. His mouth became dry and his hands trembled slightly like a schoolboy, picking up his date to his first dance. Jane was the most beautiful woman in the room.

  As she walked gracefully to him, she moved as effortlessly as an angel hovering near the earth, creating in him a surge of anticipation. In spite of himself, he longed to pull her to him. He would kiss—

  “My corsage please?” she asked coolly.

  The cold tone of her voice killed his thoughts. A dangerous fire burned in her emerald eyes. He almost retreated a step. She was still angry over his proposal, and he still could not understand her reaction to a perfectly honest suggestion. Weren’t flowery declarations of undying affection passé now? Had she expected him to go down on one knee and declare undying love?

  She took the white box from him. As though his skin were repulsive to her, she made certain she touched only the box. Irritation bubbled up inside him.

  But as she walked away, he still couldn’t make himself draw his gaze from the sway of her hips.

  * * *

  Jane clutched the box in one hand and went down the hall to her parents’ first-floor bedroom. Closing the door behind her, Jane felt the room, decorated in restful blues, a welcome haven.

  But there, in front of the wall mirror was Rona, putting on lipstick. Rona was wearing the informal uniform that she wore to catering jobs, a black tunic over black slacks. But Rona being Rona, she had added color with a russet and gold scarf at her neck.

  Inwardly Jane sighed, but made herself walk forward. She hoped Rona wouldn’t be in a prying mood. “Could you help me pin this on?” She held the box out to Rona.

  Rona took the delicate confection out of the box and then looked at Jane’s dress. “New dress?”

  “It’s my grandmother’s.”

  Rona carefully pinned the flowers onto the right shoulder of the dress, high above its scooped neckline. “One of her originals?”

  “No, but it was purchased in Paris.”

  “That explains it. I don’t know how your grandmother does it. Half the time she dresses wacky, but when she wants to be beautiful, she succeeds every time.”

  “Grandfather said it was the artist in her. The desire to surprise and delight.”

  Rona stepped back and looked Jane over critically. “You look lovely, of course, but you’re very pale. Aren’t you feeling well?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. It’s just all the getting ready. Angie does make it a challenge.” Jane, stepping around Rona, looked into the large mirror and fluffed her hair with her fingers, then smoothed the full skirt of her dress. “You did a good job of pinning the corsage. It feels secure and isn’t sideways.”

  “Vitelli’s offers a full service catering. Well, I can’t hide in here all night I have work to do. Carmine will be yelling his head off for me any moment now.”

  They went back to the noise of the party. Cash, holding Angie, was waiting at the entrance of the living room for her. Jane took a firm grip on her emotions.

  “Good luck,” Rona whispered and left her side.

  Jane walked up to Cash. Wordlessly he led her to the island. Perched on a high stool next to Cash’s, she accepted a goblet of sparkling white grape juice and looked around.

  Lucy had considered Mylar balloons as too gauche for this formal occasion. Instead small, artful arrangements of late-summer blossoms: pink asters, dusky gold mums, bright yellow snapdragons graced the end tables and mantel. And a bounty of gladiolus. There were huge floor vases of these tall, regal flowers in bold white, peach and yellow. They filled the spacious room. The abundance of flowers set the festive mood, and Jane focused on the smiles and friendly voices around her. Angie also appeared to be fascinated by her surroundings. As Angie’s attention roamed the room, she sat unnaturally still on Cash’s lap.

  Pivoting in her seat, Jane noted the other party preparations. In Lucy’s mind a formal party still meant crystal, silver and bone china for a sit-down dinner. The guests now milled around the long L-shaped living room and dinette. But outside, the large screened-in porch, which encompassed the length of the lake side of her parents’ home and then curved around the far end of the house, was prepared for dinner. The porch had been adorned with a rainbow of lanterns and candles. The tables there were ready to seat thirty-eight people. And, of course, Lucy had somehow magically influenced the weather to cooperate this evening, and the summer’s storms and heat were blessedly absent.

  Cash cleared his throat.

  Reluctantly she looked up.

  He touched his glass to hers and leaned forward so she could hear him. “To you.”

  Automatically she tried to read his mood from the expression on his face and tone of his voice. He seemed merely polite. Why do I continue to look for something in him that had never been there and would never be there? Keeping the occasion in mind, she smiled politely in return and introduced a neutral topic. “I’m happy your conflict with Roger is over.”

  He lifted his glass in salute. He leaned forward again. “How’s your size-eight mystery going?”

  Her spine stiffened. She tilted her face nearer him, so he could hear her over the buzz of voices and tinkling of ice in glasses. “It’s ended.”

  “Which girl was it? Mel or your cousin?”

  “Tish quit and the size eights have stopped vanishing and returning, I’m leaving it at that.”

  “I see. If it was Mel, she would now be forced to stop simply because there is no longer anyone else to muddy the issue.”

  “Exactly.” Knowing the culprit was her own unrepentant cousin made her grit her teeth, but she managed to smile.

  “Jane?” an unexpected voice came from behind her. She turned around. Tom, whom she hadn’t seen since the reading of Dena’s will at his Chicago office, stood before her. “Tom! I didn’t know you were coming up for my parents’ party.” She jumped down from her stool and gave the lawyer an affectionate hug.

  “Well, Lucy called me last week and invited me to come up and stay with her. I decided I could use a week away from court.”

  “You can forget all about briefs and judges now.” She tucked her arm in Tom’s, glad of his presence, which would provide a welcome distraction to the tension of being with Cash.

  “Angie has really grown.” Tom took Angie’s small hand and shook it. “She looks so much like Dena.”

  * * *

  “Yes,” Cash answered woodenly. When would any reference to his sister stop slicing through him like a sharp razor?

  “She’s a doll,” Tom enthused. “She has your hair, Cash.”

  Angie unexpectedly stretched out her arms to Tom. He lifted her gingerly as though the little girl were made of cotton candy. “She’s so light.”

  “Thank goodness,” Jane said wryly. “She isn’t walking yet.”

  Tom held Angie close to him and began reciting nursery rhymes. Angie listened to the chanting cadence with obvious fascination.

  Cash felt a whiplash of jealously slice through him. When Jane had arrived, her beauty had rocked him from head to toe. As he had sat next to her, talking about nothing, her icy anger had washed over him in progressive, freezing waves. Then at Tom’s innocent mention of Dena he had been stabbed with pain, and now jealousy ricocheted through him like live ammo. Why was everything hitting him so hard tonight? The party had just begun.

  Tom nuzzled Angie�
�s cheek and then handed her back to Cash.

  Tish appeared at Cash’s side. He stood up politely and nodded to her.

  “Hi, Cash,” she said. He noted that her soft tone warred with the barbed glance she gave Jane.

  * * *

  Jane quelled the urge to say something back to her cousin. Tish was wearing a black cotton sheath which, instead of draining her light complexion as it should have, enhanced her pale ivory skin. That style was much too sophisticated for a sixteen-year-old. Why didn’t Aunt Estelle stand up to her daughter more? “You didn’t buy that at my shop,” Jane said pointedly.

  “No,” Tish said airily. “Mother and I drove to Wausau yesterday. Your shop is nice enough, Jane, but it’s too small to offer much variety.” The girl slipped her arm through Cash’s and rubbed noses with Angie in their accustomed greeting.

  Jane bit her tongue before she said something she’d regret. Instead of reacting with anger, maybe it was time to start praying over her relationship with her cousin.

  “We’re going to go again,” Tish continued. “To Wausau, I mean, before school starts. I saw some lovely clothes, but I just didn’t have to time to try everything on. That’s one thing I owe your shop, Jane. Working there gave me such a desire to wear a variety of styles. I hate wearing the same thing over and over, don’t you?” Tish turned innocent eyes to her cousin.

  Jane flushed. So far she had been unable to tell her aunt and uncle about their daughter’s “borrowing” clothing from her shop. It made her angry to think that Tish considered herself the winner in this situation. But Jane still intended to settle Tish’s “hash.” She would put the problem before Lucy, and she was confident that their grandmother would know just what to do to teach Tish the lesson she so richly deserved.

  At this thought Jane smiled. “No, frankly, Tish, I think I take after Lucy about clothes. What I like, I like, and I don’t mind wearing my favorites. I love fashion and its trends, but I hope that you will find and retain your own style. That’s the mark of a truly well-dressed woman.”