The Summer of Sunshine and Margot

by Susan Mallery

  The archive room was lined with cabinets on two walls, and had a huge worktable in the middle of the room. Special bulbs designed to not do any damage to delicate fibers provided excellent light. There was a sink and all the tools and supplies he would need.

  Together they lifted the largest box onto the table. He photographed the box, the delivery label, then noted the date and time for future reference. After opening the box, he pulled out protective packing material before lifting out old-fashioned glass housing units.

  “As I thought,” he told her. “Papyrus fragments. Papyrus isn’t paper as we think of it. Sheets of papyrus are made by laying thin slices of the pith of the plant so that they overlap. Once that’s done, the sheets are pounded with a hammer, pressed, left to dry and treated with a sizing. A time-consuming process, as you can imagine.”

  He placed the housing units along the table. “See how there are two sheets of glass, held together by cloth tape?”

  She nodded.

  “While this old-fashioned method offers some protection for the papyrus, there are problems, as well. The papyrus can stick to the glass, thereby damaging it and the ink.”

  He pointed to a grayish smudge inside the glass. “That’s caused by sodium chloride, which is basically salt.”

  “Salt? How did that get in there? Is the Nile salt water or fresh water?” She held up her hand. “Wait. It has to be fresh water. It’s a source of drinking water for the area. So where would the salt come from?”

  “The papyrus itself and the salt from the earth the artifacts were buried in. There’s no one direct source.”

  “What will you do to protect them?”

  “They’ll be rehoused. I’ll do the more significant pages myself and ship the others off to grad students.”

  She laughed. “Free labor?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They unpacked the other two boxes. There were more glass panels with papyrus inside, but in the smallest box they found dusty, worn, sealed tin cans.

  “What are those?” Margot asked. “They look old.”

  “About seventy or eighty years old. A few may date back to the 1920s.” He handed her a tin. “Papyrus is stored inside. Papyrus no one has seen since it was originally discovered in Egypt and put in these tins to protect the paper. We have no idea what it says or what kingdom it’s from.”

  She smiled at him. “Can I please, please be here when you open one of them? I promise not to get in the way or anything.”

  “Of course. First I have to go through what they sent me in glass, then we’ll open the tins.”

  “You have the most remarkable career.”

  “Not many people would agree with you.”

  “All those people are wrong.” She pointed to a piece of papyrus under glass. “Tell me what that says.”

  He moved around the table until he was in front of it, then studied the ancient hieroglyphics. “See this here? It’s the sun god Ra. He was the most worshipped of the gods.”

  He explained why and talked about the most important of the Egyptian gods.

  “Nearly every ancient religion supports a cataclysmic flood legend,” he told her. “As told to us in what you would know as the Old Testament. But ancient Egypt has no such story.”

  “I didn’t know that.” She touched the dusty glass. “You make this all so exciting. I know you love what you do and I hope you take this in the spirit I mean it, but you would have been a great professor.”

  “I doubt that. I can ramble on. Ask my mother.”

  “I don’t have to. I’ve heard you ramble and it’s fascinating.”

  She was standing close enough for him to inhale the scent of her body. There was an underlying note of vanilla. A body lotion perhaps, or her shampoo? Once again he wanted to know what she looked like with her hair down around her shoulders. He wanted to see her naked and leaning over him as they—

  He tore his mind away from the image. Control, he reminded himself. Control was how he survived. Without control there was chaos and then everything was at risk.

  “Thank you for sharing this with me,” she told him.

  The papyri, he reminded himself. Nothing more. She would be appalled if she knew what he’d been thinking.

  “You’re welcome. We’ll set up a time to open the tins.”

  “I can’t wait. Do I have to wear special gloves and a mask? Please say yes, even if I don’t.”

  He chuckled. “You will need to wear gloves. A mask is optional.”

  She surprised him by grabbing his hand and squeezing his fingers. “You are showing me the best time ever.”

  “Then you need to get out more.”

  “Don’t say that. This is wonderful.” She released his hand.

  For reasons not clear to him he felt compelled to say, “Zina, my former fiancée, found the physical aspect of rehousing tedious.”

  “She was an idiot.”

  He glanced down at the glass-covered papyrus, then back at her. “She cheated on me while we were engaged. That’s why things ended. She didn’t tell me herself. The other man, a grad student, came and told me.”

  Margot stared at him, her expression stricken. “I’m sorry. How awful. I know everyone says better to know before the wedding, but still, what a terrible thing for her to do.” Her mouth twisted. “There’s been a lot of betrayal in your life. I wish I had something brilliant to say to make it better, but I don’t.”

  “Thank you. Obviously I broke things off with her immediately. Shortly after that, my great-uncle died and left me the house.”

  He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t feel any pain about what had happened. That it was long enough ago that he could look back and wonder why he’d thought it would work out in the first place. He wanted to say that he didn’t trust many people anymore but he thought maybe Margot might be someone he could allow past the emotional gates he kept firmly in place. Only it had been so long since he’d shared any part of himself, he wasn’t sure where to start.

  “I’m glad she didn’t live here,” Margot told him.

  “Me, too.”

  “Too bad neither of us knows how to make a little voodoo doll of her. We could stab it over and over again with a really big pin.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re vindictive. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “I have my moments. All right, enough talk of old girlfriends. I saw leftover chicken in the refrigerator and a package of crunchy taco shells in the pantry. I say you make us a big pitcher of margaritas and I’ll make tacos. You can sweet-talk me with all you know about ancient Egypt while I listen attentively and marvel at your brilliance. How does that sound?”

  “Like I’m getting the better end of the bargain.”

  “Not really, but I’m glad you think so. Come on. It’s tequila time.”

  She led the way out of the archive room. He carefully locked the door behind them so the cleaning service wouldn’t go in and disrupt anything.

  Margot was special, he thought. Not just beautiful and smart—she was also kind. There was a goodness in her he knew to be rare. He wanted...

  He wanted a lot. Sex, of course, but other things. Intimacy, perhaps. But if he let her in, she could disrupt his world. In fact, she was certain to do so. And disruptions were dangerous. As much as he wanted to believe there was nothing of his mother in him, he knew there had to be some genetic essence of her hiding in some corner, just waiting to destroy his carefully constructed life, and that he would not permit.

  Not that he had to be overly concerned about that happening in the near term, he reminded himself. For all that he found Margot a significant temptation, the truth was he had no idea what she thought of him. Considering his lack of luck when it came to women, no doubt she saw him as a doddering old uncle, as sexless as a lamp.

  Better to be
the brilliant professor. Anything else was too great a risk.

  * * *

  Like most men, Declan didn’t want problems he couldn’t solve. Figure out how to cross a raging river? Sure. Defeat a fleet of marauding Vikings? Absolutely. But bring laughter back to Sunshine’s beautiful eyes or take away the reason her shoulders were slumped? He had no clue and he didn’t like that one bit.

  He tried telling himself it wasn’t his problem to fix. That she had to get over the asshole Norris had been and move on. But thinking the words didn’t make him feel better and with any kind of action out of the question, he was left with too much energy and nowhere to put it.

  Saturday morning the easiest solution seemed to be to take out his frustrations on his garden. There were hedges he’d wanted to get rid of for a while. He drove his car to the garage where his company kept their landscaping equipment and came home with a good-size pickup and all the tools he would need.

  By nine, he was hard at work. By ten, half the hedge was gone and he had sweated through his clothes, which he didn’t care about, but he also couldn’t get Sunshine off his mind, which he did.

  What was it about her? After over a year of not wanting anyone, why did he have to want her with the kind of desperation that left him feeling both powerful and asinine? Was this what Iris had been talking about when she’d tried to explain her affair?

  He still remembered the shock of her telling him there was someone else. He’d had no clue—he’d thought they were happy together. Sure they’d been in one of those down times when they were each busy and Connor required whatever attention they had left over, but didn’t that happen to everyone? Not every relationship was perfect every second.

  Only she hadn’t seen it that way. She’d been so calm, he remembered, as she’d told him she was seeing someone else and it was serious. She wasn’t sure it was love, but the passion between them was unlike anything she’d experienced before.

  He’d been so angry, so disbelieving she would throw away something as significant as a marriage for the fleeting pleasure of passion. She’d told him her feelings consumed her and he’d reacted with contempt. He’d been disdainful even as he’d fought against a rage he couldn’t fully explain.

  Later, when they’d tried talking about it again, he’d demanded to know if she was leaving. She’d surprised him by telling him she wasn’t sure she wanted to lose her marriage. He’d nearly thrown her out then, but for reasons he still couldn’t explain, he hadn’t. Probably because he hadn’t wanted to put Connor through the trauma, and maybe partly because he didn’t want to deal with it, either. Not if things were going to be all right in the end.

  So they’d continued with their separate lives for nearly a month. Then she’d come to him and told him it was over. That she and her passionate lover were no longer together. She hoped she and Declan could patch up their marriage and grow stronger from the experience.

  He’d still been angry. He’d told her it was going to take him some time to work through everything and she had told him that was fine. What he hadn’t known then was she’d already been diagnosed with cancer. What he hadn’t known was she had told her lover about her disease and that he’d left her. Rather than be alone, she’d decided to return to Declan. He hadn’t known that Iris had chosen the other man and when that hadn’t worked out, she’d decided that second best was enough.

  He continued to tear through the hedge, digging out roots and tossing them onto the growing pile.

  She hadn’t said a word about being sick. He’d noticed she was losing weight but had assumed it was because she was missing the other man. Perhaps part of it had been, but he was pretty sure it was mostly the cancer.

  More time had passed. A few months. Gradually his rage had faded until he could look at what they’d had and realize it shouldn’t have been enough for anyone. He’d seen they weren’t in a good place and to make things better, to make their marriage stronger, they were both going to have to change. He’d told her he was willing to give it another try, and in response she told him she was dying.

  In his head he understood why she’d waited. She hadn’t wanted him to take her back because she was sick. But in his heart and his soul and his gut, her withholding that particular truth was the greatest betrayal. Far more than simply sleeping with someone else. Once she’d known she wasn’t going to make it, she should have told him the truth. And she hadn’t.

  He reached the end of the hedge and turned around to look at the destruction. The soil was dark and rich in contrast with the green grass. He knew what he wanted to plant here. He and Connor would tackle that the following weekend. Just like they’d hung on to each other as Iris had died. Connor had kept him going for months, but Declan was now willing to admit he needed to get on with his life.

  The back door opened and Sunshine walked out, a tall plastic glass in each hand. It was maybe seventy-two and sunny. She was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. Neither were tight, neither were the least bit provocative, and yet all he could think about was how desperately he wanted her. Wanted not only what he couldn’t have, but wanted a woman who found pain in the wanting. Life was nothing if not ironic.

  She smiled when she reached him. “You’ve been very busy this morning.”

  “I’ve been putting off the job too long. The hedge was taking over.”

  She handed him the first glass. “Water because you’re probably dehydrated. Did you put on sunscreen?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He took the glass and downed the contents. She handed him the second glass.

  “Strawberry lemonade. Connor and I made it together. We used the Vitamix. I’ve never used one before. It’s fantastic. I think I have a crush on it.”

  “That’s weird, even for you.”

  “I know.” She held the empty glass. “Sooo, Connor has a playdate with Elijah. I know what you said, but I still think you should consider meeting his mom. I think you and Phoebe would get along.”

  He didn’t want another woman—he wanted Sunshine. But even ignoring the fact that she wasn’t into anything short term and he didn’t know what love was anymore, she was his son’s nanny and therefore off-limits.

  He hadn’t had sex in a year. It was probably past time he got himself out there. Honestly, what was the worst that could happen?

  He sucked in a breath, then shrugged. “Sure. I’ll meet her.”

  Sunshine flashed him a smile that about drove him to his knees. “Yay! I’m so excited. I’ll get something set up right away.”

  She ran back to the house. Her genuine enthusiasm made it clear that she wasn’t the least bit jealous or even concerned. So much for her secretly wanting him. Yup, life was ironic and just a bit of a bitch.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Margot stepped off the bike and nearly collapsed to the floor. Spin class was always a challenge, but this afternoon it seemed as if the instructor was out for blood.

  As she made her way to her locker, she passed a guy throwing up in a trash can and felt her own stomach lurch. Water, she promised herself. She would drink the bottle she’d brought with her and another as soon as she got back to her place. Then she would make sure everything was all right at her apartment, shower, change, have lunch with her sister, then pick up more clothes and head back to the monastery. She knew Bianca was going out with Wesley so maybe Alec would like to hang out this afternoon.

  She put on street shoes and collected her tote. Still smiling at the thought of spending time with Alec, she made her way to her car. Her phone rang as she unlocked the door.

  She glanced at the screen. “Kiska, hi. I haven’t heard from you in a while. How are things?”

  “Good. Busy. Dax is traveling all the time and I’m drowning in homework that needs to be graded. We’re talking about getting a puppy, but I don’t know. We both work.”

  Kiska was an elementary school teacher up in t
he Bay area and her husband was in sales. Margot had known both of them since college.

  “A puppy would be a challenge. I hear they pee and poop a lot.”

  “That’s what I hear, too. Maybe a kitten would be easier.”

  “Maybe.” Margot started her car and waited for the Bluetooth to engage. Once the call switched to hands free, she tucked her phone into her purse. “Are you two heading down to LA anytime soon? I’d love to see you.”

  “I’d love to see you, too. Nothing’s planned. Why don’t you come hang out with me some weekend? We could plan it when Dax is gone and have a girls’ weekend.”

  “I’d like that. Let’s get something on the calendar when my current job is done. I’m living in so it would be hard to get away now.”

  “Sounds like a plan. So, um, I heard from Dietrich.”

  Margot had just picked up her water bottle. Now she tucked it back into the cup holder and gripped the steering wheel. She was still in her parking space, so didn’t have to worry about focusing on her driving.

  “Kiska, no. Just no.”

  “He misses you. He told me.”

  “He always says he misses me, then he shows up and destroys my life. I’m done with him. It’s over. Please, please don’t give him any information about me. I don’t want to talk to him.”

  “He’s different now.”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “He’s matured. He has his own business and he’s really successful. You two were so cute together.”

  “We weren’t. He’s bad for me or I’m bad for myself when we’re together. It doesn’t really matter which. I mean it, Kiska, don’t give him my number. I’m done with him. I’ve moved on.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Very. Very, very.”

  “Okay. I won’t say anything. But I think he deserves another chance.”

  “He’s had about sixteen. No more chances for him.”

  “Be that way. I gotta run. Let me know when you have a free weekend and we’ll plan something, okay?”

  “Perfect. Talk to you soon.”