A Stranger in Wynnedower (21 page)

She ignored her
friend’s joke. “Come on in. Would you like a soda or something? Maybe a cup of
coffee?”

“Nope.”

They stopped in the
central hall. Daisy continued looking here, there and all around.

Rachel asked, “Have you
eaten? It’s a little early for supper, but there’s nothing to stop us from
popping one of May’s casseroles into the oven.”

“May?”

“May Sellers. She does
some cooking and general upkeep for Jack and whoever else happens to be here.”

Daisy said, “Nice.”

“Nice? I guess so.”

“Show me around.”

Rachel wondered if
Helene could hear their chatter and laughter while hiding in her rooms. Did it
make her feel lonely?

Daisy ‘oohed’ and
‘ahed’ as Rachel led her through the mansion. Rachel noticed her friend’s
fingers moving and asked, “The doors, right?”

“Have you counted
them?”

“No. I’ve had enough
fun sorting out the keys.”

“The keys?”

“Skeleton keys. Believe
me, everything I thought I knew about skeleton keys—well, I didn’t think there
was a lot to know and that’s true, but they aren’t interchangeable. There are
master keys that open multiple locks, but your average skeleton key opens one
or two locks, and it takes forever to figure which out when there are this many
doors.”

Rachel escorted her
through the first floor, and when they passed the closed dining room doors,
Daisy pointed.

“What’s that room?”

“The dining room, but
Jack uses it for his painting. We don’t go in there. He demands privacy.”

“Maybe a peek? I’d love
to see.”

Rachel shooed her
along. “He’s my host and this is his house. It’s important to respect his
wishes.”

****

Daisy continued
exclaiming over the rows of furniture in the attic as they negotiated the
stairs back down to the first floor. Instead of turning toward the main house,
they went out into the conservatory.

“You know what this
makes me think of?”

“
Dark Shadows
,
you said.”

“No. Robert Redford.
The
Great Gatsby
and all that. His lover’s name was Daisy, you know. That’s why
I paid attention when we read it in high school.”

“You mean you read the
book?”

Her laugh was short and
sharp. “No, I watched the movie. It was quicker and far more entertaining. I
never liked my name until I saw that movie.” She walked the wide circle of the
room, gazing up at the ceiling, the window walls, and seeming to draw the feel
of it into herself. “I imagined myself as Daisy, that Daisy, the Mia Farrow
version, of course. I dieted until I got sick. I was determined to get that
hollow-cheeked, deep-set eyes look.”

Daisy was tall and
slim, and the vision of health and energy.

They settled on the
terrace.

“You’re headed for the
beach?”

“That I am. I haven’t
had a vacation in two years. A cousin offered me a timeshare right on the
ocean.”

“You left Bonnie in
charge?”

“She assured me she
could manage it. I know she can. She’ll feel more empowered, in fact, without
me there. If anything goes wrong, I’m only a day’s drive away, plus she’s got
good backup on site.” She laughed. “Hey, if it works out, maybe next year I can
take a cruise or something.”

“It’s well-deserved,
Daisy. I’m glad you have this chance.”

“I need to head off
soon. I was hoping to meet your host. Or employer. Which is it?”

“Mostly host. He pays me
a fee for the hours I spend on the inventory, but I’ve only been working on
that in the mornings because it’s too hot up there in the afternoon, as you’ve
experienced.”

“Why are you here,
then? Not because of Jeremy. It’d serve him right to have to chase after you
for a while. Come to the beach with me. It’s a big condo. Lots of room.”

“I want to finish the
inventory. It’s close to done. At least, as done as I’m going to get it. I’ve
already engaged an appraiser, and I’ve been working with him. I’m no expert
when it comes to antiques.”

The breeze rustled the
leaves overhead.

“Jeremy said he had
something important to tell me when he returns. I want to be here. I don’t need
to, but I want to.”

“Let him come to where
you are. He’s a big boy.”

“He didn’t ask me to
wait here. It’s my choice. In a way, this is almost a vacation for me. I know
that sounds silly, but I’ve never had so much leisure. I sleep well, I feel
useful, but only when I want to. I’m also serving a purpose. In fact, Jack
asked me to stay a while longer.”

“Oh, I see.”

“No, you don’t, and I
know you’re joking anyway. Jack’s preparing for an art show. Something big and
fancy in New York. By staying, I can continue the inventory and help keep an
eye on the house.”

“Well, where is he?”

“He went into town this
morning. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“Let’s go grab a bite.
What’s nearby?”

“A towing service.”

“Seriously? Well, we’ll
drive back toward the interstate. I saw a new shopping center.”

“Eat here. I’ll put one
of the casseroles in the oven. It’ll be ready in thirty minutes. We’ll share a
meal, and you’ll be on your way.”

“This May is a good
cook? I own a restaurant, and the food’s not too shabby.”

“How could I not know?
I live right above. The food is definitely excellent, both at your restaurant
and May’s cooking, too.”

“Lead the way.”

When they reached the
central hall, Daisy asked, “Left?”

“Correct.”

Daisy turned, then
stopped so abruptly, Rachel crashed into her and almost knocked them both over.

Jack had returned. He’d
left the dining room doors wide open.

The late afternoon
light had a golden quality, as if picking up the hue from the broad leaves of
the tulip poplars and spilling it softly onto the scene, tinting it with the
quality of an Old Master’s Painting after centuries of aging, the gentle
yellowing of the oils, the blurring of contrast. There stood Jack, his dark,
curling hair falling forward to obscure his face but not hiding the strong jaw.
The full shirt he wore as a painting smock gave his already broad shoulders an
insanely broad appearance.

His entire being was
focused on the painting propped on the easel in front of him. He moved the
brush forward, placing the paint with sure and delicate strokes.

Daisy quivered.

It hit Rachel that, for
centuries, women had reached up to touch their hair, to check it for tidiness
or whatever, when confronted with a male newcomer who might be welcome to them.
An unconscious gesture. Daisy raised her hands and touched her short silky
curls with her beautifully manicured nails. What Rachel had to work hard to
achieve—that put–together appearance—Daisy carried with her like standard
equipment.

Women like Daisy didn’t
need ridiculously expensive red suits.

Daisy moved forward
slowly, more quietly than Rachel had ever seen her move. They were shadowed in
the short hallway between the central hall and the dining room. There was
something in her movement that alarmed Rachel. Was Daisy the gazelle or the
cheetah?

Rachel’s fingers curled
into fists. She stopped short of hissing, suddenly embarrassed. Jealousy did
not become her. She relaxed her hands, flexing her fingers.

Daisy’s elbow caught
Rachel in the arm. She reacted by stepping back. Daisy half-turned and grabbed
her firmly by the forearm.

“Rachel, my friend,”
she whispered. “You’ve been holding out on me.” She shook her head. “And I
don’t blame you a bit.”

Jack looked up, eyes
narrowed as he stared into the shadowed hallway. “Rachel? Is someone with you?”

She stepped forward,
practically shoving Daisy behind her. “Hi. I’m sorry we disturbed you. I didn’t
realize you’d come home.” She entered the open doorway and gestured to Daisy to
stand beside her. “This is my friend, Daisy Medina.”

“Your friend who owns
the restaurant?”

Had she told him that?
She could easily have done so during one of their chats.

Daisy stepped into the
picture. “That’s me.” She put her hands on her hips and did a little wiggle. “I
can see we’ve interrupted you, but I can’t apologize because I’m not sorry.
I’ve never been in a house like this. I’m thrilled I got to see it. I hope you
don’t mind.”

Jack smiled. “Not at
all. Make yourself at home.”

Daisy said, “We’ll let
you get back to your painting.”

She grabbed Rachel’s
hand and tugged her along. Rachel cast one last glance at Jack and saw surprise
on his face. As they entered the kitchen, Rachel whispered, “What are you
doing?”

“Getting him
interested, that’s what.”

“In you?” Her jaw
practically dropped to the floor.

“Me?” Daisy touched her
hair again. “Only if you don’t want him.”

Rachel stammered. “He’s
not a side of beef or a head of lettuce. He’s a man.”

“If I were a lesser
person, I’d make something out of that statement, but I won’t.”

Daisy looked over
Rachel’s shoulder and smiled.

Rachel spun around. At
a loss for what to say, she asked, “Hungry?”

“I am,” Jack said.

She tried to read his
half-smile and couldn’t. “Daisy and I are going to have a casserole. We’ll set
a place for you.”

“Not tonight. I have
something else planned.”

“Oh, sure.” Something
else planned. Not with her, of course. She wanted to turn her back and hide her
face, but if she did, she’d be staring straight into Daisy’s eyes. She felt
trapped.

“For us. I’m having
something delivered.”

“Delivered? Out here?”

He smiled more broadly.
“It’s a celebration. I hope you like Italian.”

Daisy said, “I’ve
barged in, I can see.”

“Not at all. The food
should be here in about an hour.” He looked at Daisy. “I hope that won’t
interfere with your travel plans.”

“Not a bit. It’s sweet
of you to include me.”

“You’re welcome to stay
the night.”

Daisy gave Jack a slow
smile. “I don’t think so although it’s tempting, I admit.” She leaned against
the table and put one hand on her hip. “But I’d love to do supper.”

Rachel didn’t dare look
at her friend’s face. Jack was doing enough of that. Suddenly, she felt
invisible.

“I’ll wrap up in the
studio, then wash the paint off,” he held up his hands, “and meet you both back
here.”

“Great,” she said with
a total lack of enthusiasm. He’d already left the kitchen. It took a visit from
Daisy to merit a special dinner? Forget him. She should decline to attend. In
fact, she should let the two of them–

Daisy pinched her arm.

“Hey!” She yelled.
“That hurt.”

Daisy hissed, “You were
about to say something stupid, weren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

Daisy left, and Rachel
followed. She caught up with her on the stairs. Daisy talked as if there’d been
no interruption.

“Don’t be a bad sport.
Take advantage of opportunities. Unless you really aren’t interested.”

“Interested? I’m not.”

“Right. So, that’s why
you look like someone popped your balloon and stole your lollipop.”

“Don’t tease me, Daisy.
Be a friend, not a jerk.” Rachel unlocked the door, and they walked through the
sitting room to the bedroom. “Understand I’m staying here with this guy. How
could that possibly work if I was mooning around, pursuing him? I don’t need
the masochism of unrequited love. Not that there’s love or anything like that
going on. It’s just a phrase.”

“Hey, come here,” Daisy
said. She took Rachel roughly by the shoulders and planted her in front of the
bureau mirror. “Look at yourself.”

What did Rachel see? A
woman who was prepared to lose before she’d even had the guts to try. She
turned away.

“No, you don’t. Listen
to me. I’ve been watching you for too long—watching you come into the diner alone,
leave the diner alone, eat alone unless I barge in. I never see anyone, guy or
gal, going up the stairs to your apartment, at least not since Jeremy left, and
brothers don’t count anyway.”

She turned Rachel back
to the mirror. “You’re an attractive woman and it’s beyond me what kind of
‘keep away’ signals you must be sending to men, but stop it. Stop it now. Fall
in love now. With Jack? Not with Jack? That’s not the point. But if it’s not
Jack, then move on. Go somewhere else. Not here and not at home. Somewhere
where there are living, breathing men.”