One Big Happy Family Page 10

  Because she probably had a whole horde of young guys swarming around. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Stacy.

  “Just because I said I wasn’t going to a picnic, it didn’t mean I was staying home,” he said briskly. “I’ll have you know that I’m going out with some friends of mine.”

  “Really?” She sounded so delighted that he winced. “Well, have a great time.”

  “Yeah. You, too.”

  After he hung up the phone, Kevin just frowned out the window at the sunshine. There was just the slightest of breezes and not a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect day for a picnic or a trip to the beach or just sitting around with friends.

  He fought back a sudden vision of himself with Sam and turned from the windows, his gaze finding his two cats, curled up asleep on the sofa.

  “I don’t suppose you guys want to go for a walk, do you?” Kevin asked. “You know, keep me from being a total liar.”

  Duke didn’t even bother to acknowledge Kevin’s existence, while Duchess barely let one eye flicker open, but only for a moment. The two Himalayan cats were curled into a single fuzzy ball and were certainly not in any mood to help him battle his conscience.

  “I’m sorry,” Kevin said. “I realize going for a walk is a dog thing, but I thought you guys would welcome a little adventure.”

  Neither of the cats stirred, seeing his pitiful argument for what it was. “Well, I think I’ll step out myself,” he told the cats. “Catch a breath of fresh air.”

  They responded just as he’d known they would—by ignoring him. He went into the kitchen and was about to grab his car keys when he stopped. He hadn’t driven the Jeep in ages. It wasn’t good to let a car sit for too long.

  Maybe it wasn’t good to let a heart sit too long, either, he thought. Maybe that was why his thoughts kept straying to Sam. He would take a drive, maybe stop at Leeper Park and watch the people canoeing on the river.

  He went outside and took a deep breath. A cooling breeze was coming in from the northwest and the TV weatherman was talking about temperatures falling back into the normal range for early September. Maybe when it got cooler and the humidity disappeared, he would be able to fight off the attraction better.

  Sure. And maybe Chicken Little and the Easter bunny were going to open an omelet house.

  He took a deep breath, told himself he was old enough to control his wayward feelings. He backed out the drive. The wind ruffled his hair as if it were trying to set his soul free.

  Debbie used to tell him he was too hidebound, too afraid to try something new. It had been at her urging that he’d bought the Jeep three years ago. His tastes ran to more sedate sedans—“banker cars,” Debbie called them. But he wasn’t just a banker, she used to tell him; somewhere deep down inside him, he wanted to run free.

  Kevin hadn’t been too sure of that, but he’d been willing to give it a shot. Anything to bring a light into Debbie’s eyes.

  After she’d died, the Jeep had pretty much just sat around unless one of the kids borrowed it. He was thinking he ought to just be done with it and sell it. No reason to have a car around that nobody drove.

  Kevin drove aimlessly. He could have headed toward the university; classes had started this week and the campus would be lively. But instead, he headed for the edge of the city.

  Once past the more developed areas, Kevin leaned back and took a deep, deep breath. It was a beautiful day, with bright sun shining and a light breeze. A day to savor. Especially for someone who worked indoors.

  Suddenly the surroundings looked familiar. “Damn!” he exclaimed. “What the heck am I doing here?” Shaking his head, he drove on past Sam’s bed-and-breakfast, intending to go around to the other side of the lake.

  But he frowned as he stopped at the crossroads just beyond the house. This was silly, him just driving past the place. Hadn’t he said he would drop by this week and review those boiler estimates? He was in the neighborhood, and it would only take a few minutes. That is, assuming anyone was home. Sam probably wouldn’t be. Not on a gorgeous day like this.

  After checking for traffic in all directions, Kevin put the Jeep into a wide U-turn. This would save him a trip later in the week. Make him more productive.

  Sam came around the corner of the house just as he turned off the motor. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, carrying a garden trowel and overflowing with vigor and vitality. It almost hurt to look at her, to feel her energy calling to him.

  “Hi, stranger,” she said. “What are you doing out here in the country?”

  He had to fight to breathe, had to concentrate to make the words come out.

  “I was just in the neighborhood,” Kevin replied. “So I thought I’d drop in and see if you guys were home.”

  “You want to see how much money we have left?”

  He wasn’t sure it was safe to join in her teasing. He wasn’t sure his heart knew when to stop. “If this is a bad time, I can come later in the week.”

  “No, this is a fine time. I was looking for a reason to get out of work, anyway.”

  Her lips said one thing but the mischievous gleam in her eyes said a lot of other things. It said that her joy was enough to swallow them both up. It said that he should take a chance, that he should be brave and daring and venturesome. That she would keep him safe. He had definitely better not play along.

  “Hello, Mr. Delaney.” Dan Scott came around the corner of the house, carrying a potted mum in each hand. “Getting worried about your money?”

  “Man.” Kevin shook his head. “This is a tough crew.”

  “Kevin came out to see how we’re doing,” Sam said.

  “We spent all the money,” Dan said, grinning.

  “Dad! He’s just trying to help us.”

  “He can help us plant these mums.”

  Sam laughed—a soft tinkling sound that spread comfort across the inn’s spacious front yard. “He wants to see the boiler quotes and make sure they’re reasonable and from good companies.”

  “Then he can help us eat that concoction you’ve got in the fridge for our dinner.”

  “It’s not a concoction. It’s a seven-layer salad.”

  “It’s rabbit food,” Dan said to Kevin. “She’s trying to poison me. It’s your duty as a fellow male to stay and protect me.”

  “I sure don’t want to shirk my duty,” Kevin said slowly. They did it so easily, made him feel at home and welcome. Not just welcome. Wanted.

  “You guys are so brave,” Sam mocked and turned to Kevin. “Come around back and I’ll show you the quotes.”

  They walked around the house, along the gravel driveway and past the side garden where Sam and her father had been planting rows of red and gold chrysanthemums. It was a riot of color that reminded him of laughter and sunshine.

  “The place is looking good,” he told her.

  “Yeah,” Sam agreed. “We needed to get some color in fast because Cassie and Jack’s wedding is going to be here in three weeks, but next spring, we’ll plan things out a bit more. I want to put in more variety and color. Especially day lilies. I really love them.”

  “They were Debbie’s favorite flower, too.”

  “A lot of people like them.” She smiled brightly at him, letting innocence ride her lips while a dusky mystery filled her eyes.

  “Yeah.” Sam was right. Day lilies were a popular perennial. “Right.”

  They went around the back of the house. There were more mums here, in among the plants that had already been in the flower beds. It felt very safe, very solid here. As if time was a friend.

  He let his feet take him down to the water’s edge. A few ducks in the middle of the lake changed course and headed toward him.

  “Do you have a garden?” Sam asked.

  He shrugged. “I guess I technically still do, but it hasn’t been tended in a few years.”

  He looked out across the water, waiting for the familiar pain to grip him in its vise. He took a deep breath to steel himself, then another.
But the pain was only a slow ache, more a healing bruise than a fresh wound.

  He turned back to Sam. “Debbie loved to garden and I helped, her some. When she got sick, I tried to keep it up because it made her happy. Once she died, I just let it go. It didn’t seem worth the effort.”

  Sam just shook her head, smiling gently. “It’s always worth the effort,” she said. “To bring a garden back to life again is a healing process.”

  “Maybe.” He smiled, a strangely easy thing to do, even with ghosts hanging in the air. “Thinning out my day lilies, though, would definitely not be. That’d be more likely to send me to the hospital with a strained back. They’re one huge clump.”

  “I can help you thin them,” Sam replied. “Pay you back for all your help.”

  Her offer took him by surprise. And while his heart urged him to accept, his head was wiser. “No, there’s no need for you to do that. I’ve just been doing my job.”

  “Sure. And what else—” But before she could finish her sentence, a car pulled into the drive. “It’s Fiona and Alex,” Sam said, walking up the slight slope to the drive.

  By the time the car stopped and Fiona and Alex had gotten out, Dan was up by the car, also.

  “Something wrong, honey?” he asked.

  Fiona nodded. “We have to go to St. Louis. Alex’s cousin was in some kind of accident. It sounds serious.”

  “Oh, how awful.” Sam took Fiona’s hand. “I hope everything’s all right.”

  “Was it someone you were close to?” Dan asked.

  “I don’t even know her,” Alex said. “But my mother knew her father real well. We’re picking Mom up in Chicago, then heading down together.”

  “I was hoping you’d look after Elvis and Prissy,” Fiona said to Sam. “I already fed them this evening, but if you could keep an eye on them…”

  “Sure, don’t worry about anything.”

  “Thanks, hon.” Fiona gave her sister a quick hug, then she and Alex got back in the car.

  Sam, Kevin and Dan watched as the car disappeared down the driveway. “Hope things turn out okay,” Dan said with a sigh, then went back to his planting. Sam and Kevin ventured toward the back porch.

  “That’s a long drive,” Kevin said, as they climbed the steps.

  “It’s family,” Sam replied. “It’s what you do.” He suddenly felt a twinge of envy for the Scotts with all their siblings. He came from a small, not-very-close family. And he wasn’t the type to hang on to anybody. But there had been times, especially during Debbie’s illness, when he would have welcomed a helping hand.

  And there were times now, when his loneliness threatened to overwhelm him, that Sam seemed to offer that hand to him. Maybe it was time he got brave enough to reach out for it.

  Sam rang the front doorbell, then stood back. She’d lived in the northern Indiana area all her life but wasn’t familiar with this little stretch of homes along the St. Joseph River in Mishawaka. Edgewater Drive was a brick-paved street with a line of fine old homes on one side and the river on the other. It appeared to be just one block long. She was about to push the button again when the door opened.

  “Sam,” Kevin said, flashing a smile. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  His offhand manner took her aback. She’d never seen him this lighthearted. She liked the change, but then she liked a whole lot about him—the shorts and knit shirt that showed off his rangy, lean build. The way his eyes mirrored his thoughts. The way his lips felt, pressed against hers.

  Maybe it was best not to let her thoughts travel down that road.

  “What brings you to my neighborhood?” he asked.

  She started, suddenly realizing that she had been standing there, staring at him. Her cheeks felt warm. “What brings me here?” she said gruffly as she held out the piece of fax paper. “Are you saying you know nothing of this?”

  He took the note from her hand and gravely studied it.

  Our conditions are deplorable. Our children have no room to grow and are unable to reach their full potential. Please help us. Take us to a new land where our families will have space to grow.

  The serious look on Kevin’s face was there only because he hadn’t read aloud the last lines of the note. “Sincerely, The Day lilies of 117 Edgewater Drive.” The note had been faxed to the main desk of the library so that all the world could see it. And from all the teasing Sam had gotten, all the world apparently had.

  “Well, it is true. They are very crowded and, because of that, have not been blooming very well.”

  She didn’t know where this new Kevin had come from. The shadows in his eyes weren’t totally gone, but he was obviously trying to keep them at bay. She was willing to help him. It didn’t mean she was straying from her convictions,

  “Then why are we standing around here?” Sam raised the bucket—filled with paper bags and a small shovel—she held in her left hand. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  He stood back to let her in and she stepped onto the slatecovered floor of the foyer. The walls were painted white and the molding was thick and heavy looking, stained a very dark shade. The interior of the house had a Southwestern feel to it. The furniture was an eclectic mixture of modern, traditional, and masculine. She felt she was getting a glimpse into his soul, and the idea made her both anxious and eager.

  “Very nice,” Sam observed.

  “Debbie was the decorator,” he said with a shrug. “I haven’t changed much of anything. Just too lazy, I guess.”

  “As long as you’re comfortable.”

  “And that’s Duchess and the Duke.” He indicated two cats sitting on the window seat and glaring at her. “Duchess is the one with the lighter coat.”

  Sam waved. “Hi, guys.”

  Like true cats, they barely acknowledged her existence. Blinking once, they turned their attention back to the outdoors.

  “They’re not the glad-handing type,” Kevin said.

  “No self-respecting cat would ever demean themselves so,” Sam said.

  Kevin guided her down the hall into the kitchen. It was decorated in a European motif, all white with sharp angles and straight lines. She would have preferred something warmer, but maybe this reflected who Debbie was. Or Kevin.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

  “Maybe after we’re done,” she replied.

  They went past an island stove, around the refrigerator and out the back door. The yard was a nice size and not totally unkempt, but it was obvious that Kevin’s gardening efforts had been purely defensive. Keep things neat and contained but without the effort and care to make it vibrant and pulsing with life.

  “The day lilies are along the back fence and in front of the garage,” he said, pointing.

  “You haven’t topped them off,” Sam said.

  He shrugged. “There’s a lot I haven’t done.”

  “Then let’s get going.” Sam slipped off her shoes and walked down the back stairs into the yard. “You need to take out at least a third of those plants, maybe more.”

  “Do you always garden in your bare feet?” he asked.

  Surprised by the question, Sam just stood there a moment and stared at him. Then she shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” She turned her attention down to her feet and memories flooded in, like the mist on a dark and foggy night. “My first mother always did that. I guess I’m like her in that regard.”

  “Your first mother?”

  “Fiona, Cassie and I are adopted,” she explained. “The Scotts adopted us when I was six. I don’t remember my first parents much, but Fiona told me stories about our mom. How she liked to garden barefoot. And loved to recite poems and parts of plays and stuff for us. I kind of remember her singing and swinging me around in her arms.”

  “It’s nice that you have a few memories of her,” he said. “Stacy and Jon are lucky that way. They were old enough when Debbie died to remember her.”

  “That is nice. She’ll always be real to them the
n.” The mood was growing darker though, even in her own heart, and it was time to lighten things up. “Come on.” She pulled at his arm. “I can hear the day-lily people calling.”

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  “My father—” Sam noticed uncertainty creep into his face and, laughing, she drew herself close to him. “I mean my present father, Daddy Scott. He says you have to listen in order to hear.”

  “I know how to listen,” Kevin said with a frown.

  “Do you?” Sam asked. “Or do you just wait to hear what you think is going to be said?”

  “That makes me sound very closed-minded. Is that how I seem to you?”

  He sounded as if it mattered to him. “We all are in some ways,” she said. “And we always expect to hear with our ears. Sometimes we have to listen with our eyes or with our hearts.”

  Kevin put a thoughtful look on his face. “I hear the day lilies now, real clear.”

  “Good.” But her words were echoing in her own mind, challenging all her comfortable notions.

  How often did she listen with her eyes or her heart? Was she now? Kevin was acting like he hadn’t a care in the world, yet those shadows lurking in his eyes said otherwise. What did he need from her? How could she help his heart heal?

  “Hey,” Kevin said. “Are you here to thin the day lilies or talk?”

  “Some people can do both, and more.” She hurried off to the day-lily patch, promising herself she would chip away at those doubts, little by little, until they were gone. It was the least she could do for a friend, and that was what he was. A friend. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing to threaten her peace of mind.

  They worked hard for about an hour or so. Sam tried to get him to talk about himself, or his kids, or anything, but he obviously wasn’t a big talker. She filled in the silences with her own chatter, but grew increasingly irritated with herself.

  It wasn’t any great mystery why Kevin’s laughter didn’t often reach his eyes. He’d lost his wife and, in essence, his kids. Cracking stupid jokes for him wasn’t going to make a lasting difference. Neither was telling him stories about her family. But what was?