When they arrived at the
restaurant, Milo and Jana were already seated at the round table by the
window.
Stani was sure Milo had checked
his wristwatch as they walked in.
Milo
stood, as Stani made the introductions, took the hand Emily extended and bowed
over it slightly, giving her the swiftest of appraisals.
His only response was a cool, clipped, “A pleasure,
Miss Haynes.”
Emily’s eyes were wide, as she
breathed, “Mr. Scheider.”
Time stood
still.
No one moved.
And then simultaneously Stani cleared his
throat, John coughed, and Jana gently voiced her greeting, which went largely
ignored.
There was an awkward moment as
both John and Stani reached to pull out Emily’s chair, while Emily stood frozen
and unblinking, her hand still lightly resting in Milo’s.
Jana seemed to be signaling to Milo to sit
down, John wrestled the chair away from the table, and Stani’s gaze was drawn
to a commotion across the room as Peg made her usual sweeping entrance.
Without so much as a hello to
the others, before she had even reached the table, Peg gasped loudly enough for
most of the room to hear, “Oh, my God, Stani,
this
is your Emily?”
Pushing
past John, she threw her arms around Emily, who seemed to come back to life
with a startled gasp of her own, tearing her eyes from Milo to blink in
astonishment at Peg.
“But Stani, I
know
this girl!
Don't you remember, dear, we met at Mae
Hanbury's funeral?”
Stani held his breath as Emily
visibly regained her equilibrium.
With a
slow, radiant smile, she answered clearly, “Of course I remember.
Isn’t it a wonderfully small world?”
Peg took her place beside
Milo, all the while explaining the circumstances of their meeting.
Emily quietly accepted the chair John held
for her, and Stani unlocked his trembling knees and sank gratefully into his
own seat.
As he listened to Peg go on at
length, he realized he could not have asked for more.
Milo was forced to listen attentively to
Peg's description of this marvelous girl who had nursed her old friend.
She went on to talk about Mae and her family,
the fact that Mae had contributed early on to Stani's career.
She drew Emily into the conversation; and by
the time the appetizer was served, everyone at the table had learned just what
Stani wanted them to know, that Emily was a talented, intelligent woman with a
reputation for her skill and compassion.
That she was beautiful as well had not escaped notice, he felt sure.
The evening had, after those
first awful seconds, gotten off to a perfect start.
They were all conversing easily.
He could sense Emily relaxing at his side, as
she chatted with John.
Turning to Jana
on his right, he was about to ask a question, when a large glass of whisky
appeared, as if by some evil magic, on the table before him.
“Compliments of the management, Mr. Moss,”
the waiter murmured discreetly in his ear.
At the bar, Stani could see the manager smiling his way.
There was nothing to do but raise the glass
in a salute of thanks.
Five pairs of eyes, filled
with everything from fear to suspicion, turned to watch as he lowered the glass
to his lips.
He took the merest sip,
then set the glass on the table and carefully pushed it toward the center.
There followed a moment of unbearably weighty
silence, as he contemplated his next step, staring into the amber depths he had
once so admired.
Looking from one face
to the next around the table, he flashed what he hoped was a suitably
self-effacing smile.
“I seem to be a bit
too well known here.”
Nodding toward the
bar, he went on, “Old drinking buddy.
Must not have heard I've given it up.”
Blessedly, the waiter returned with the salad cart and there seemed to a
collective sigh of relief.
Stani felt
the toe of Emily's slipper brush his shin, and turned to meet her eyes, now
shining with approval.
Under cover of
the reviving conversation, he murmured, “Sorry.”
“No need.
You were wonderful.”
She reached for his hand under the
tablecloth, pressing her fingers between his.
“Are we doing okay?”
He smiled his gratitude,
squeezing her hand.
“Brilliantly!”
When her lips curved into one of those serene
little upturns, he had the sudden, almost undeniable urge to kiss her.
“Brave girl.”
The moment passed, the talk
around the table turned to the upcoming tour.
Milo was in his element discussing the various orchestras and conductors
he'd lined up for the concerts across Europe and Britain.
As he dominated the conversation, Stani
watched Emily out of the corner of his eye.
She was listening attentively but saying little, all the while paying
close attention to her dinner.
She had
looked up from her chateaubriand just long enough to inform Milo that while she
had never been to Europe, she had studied extensively in hopes of traveling in
the future.
Stani had to smile.
No matter how stressful the occasion, it had
not affected her appetite.
Things had gone so well thus far,
he considered his next move carefully.
It had been on his mind for some time, given the opportunity this
evening presented.
An hour earlier, he
would have abandoned the idea completely, but now, with Milo in such a mellow
mood, with Peg smiling across the table as she talked with Emily, and with
Emily herself seeming to be at ease in the company of these people who were the
only family he’d ever known, he might just be bold enough to go through with
it.
When the plates had been taken away
and dessert and coffee ordered, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet,
drawing everyone’s expectant attention.
He straightened his tie,
cleared his throat and plunged ahead.
“As
all of you know, I'm hardly the speech making sort.
In fact this may be the first one I've ever
made willingly.”
Involuntarily, he
grinned, his color deepening.
“But while
I have all the important people in my life gathered at the same table, there is
something I need to say.”
Pausing again,
he ran a hand through his hair and drew a deep breath past the sudden lump in
his throat.
“In the past three years,
all of you have given me so much.
Each
of you, in your own way, has brought me back to life, supported me and
encouraged me.
Thanks to you and the
grace of a loving God, I have a second chance to make something of my
life.
I just want you to know, I intend
to make you proud.”
He raised his water
glass in a toast round the table, his gaze finally coming to rest on Emily's
upturned face.
She was smiling, tears
brimming.
Ignoring the surprise in her
eyes, he bent down and kissed her soundly.
John said, “Hear, hear.”
Peg clapped her hands softly, tears in her
own eyes, and Jana, with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, declared, “How beautiful,
Stani!”
But it was Milo who got to his
feet, and raising his glass, announced in a voice clearly filled with pride,
“To Stani!”
They sat curled together in
front of the little gas fire, rehashing the evening.
Emily had changed into jeans and a sweater,
insisting she’d had enough sophistication for one night.
Now with her hair tumbling around her
shoulders and her bare feet tucked beneath her, she felt much more
herself.
It had been a wonderful night,
she assured him.
She had been so proud
of him, so amazed at what he had said and done.
But even more wonderful, it was over and she had survived relatively unscathed.
“I told you Milo wouldn’t try
to eat you.
He’s really quite
harmless.”
He couldn’t resist stroking
the tousled lengths of her hair.
“I was surprised in some ways
by Milo.
He’s older than I expected, and
handsomer than the one picture I’d seen of him.
Is he always so. . .rigid?
Every
move seems sort of calculated, as if he practiced it in advance.
Although he did get pretty animated when he
was talking about the tour.
Obviously,
his work is his passion.”
“Oh, yes.
Everything else comes second, even Jana, I’m
afraid.
But they’ve always worked
together in his pursuit of promoting classical music.
And Jana loves him.
He
comes first for her.”
Emily laughed softly.
“He really is very full of himself, isn’t
he?
He tends to take control even at the
dinner table.
But Peg seemed to know how
to gently push him aside.
She’s quite a
force, I’ll bet.”
“Peg Shannon can move
mountains with her perfectly manicured little finger.
She cut her teeth on the likes of Milo
Scheider, I imagine.
She’s tougher than
most men, but they never seem to see past those blue eyes of hers.”
He took a moment to press his lips against
her forehead, as she nestled her head on his chest.
“Handsomer, huh?
I guess I’ve never thought of Milo as
handsome.
Should I be jealous?”
“Oh, no.
He’s not my type.
And he pretty much ignored me the entire
evening, which was fine with me.
No, I
don’t think there’s much potential for a relationship there.”
“But he took note of you.
He knows a beautiful woman when he sees
one.
And everything Peg said is sure to
have impressed him.
All in all, I'd say
the evening was a success.
I felt rather
as though I was being tested, but I think I did okay.”
He tried to turn her face up for a
punctuating kiss, but she pulled away.
“Okay?
You were magnificent, Stani!
What you said to everyone was so
beautiful.
It could not have been more
perfect.”
She reached up to stroke his
face, letting her fingers skim over his lips.
“The only thing that you might have done differently, not that it isn't
too late now, was to try to stick to that friendship thing a little
longer.
No man kisses his friends the
way you kissed me, right there in front of the whole restaurant.”
“You mean like this?”
He succeeded in capturing her mouth, and by
the time he released her she was wide-eyed and breathless.
“You're right, no more friendship.
No one would believe us, anyway.
What man in his right mind would want to be
just friends with a woman like you?”
He
settled her more comfortably across his lap and went on, “Now, I want to know
your impressions.
You've met all the
most important people in my world, what do you think?”
She considered for a moment,
then ruffled his hair playfully.
“I
think you judge them too harshly.
They're not so different from any family, I expect.
John is your big brother, or your favorite
uncle.
He has your back, no matter what.
He loves you very much, much more than a lot
of real brothers.
Jana may not be
exactly maternal, but she cares deeply about you.
And Milo is as proud of you as any father
could be.
He just doesn't quite
understand you, but that's often the case with fathers and sons.
You're everything to them, Stani.
Most sons don't merit the kind of attention
they pay you.
By now, an ordinary son
would have been pushed from the nest to make his own way, but they are devoting
their lives to you.”
He laughed softly.
“And therein lies the rub.”
“But you deserve that kind of
devotion.
Maybe Milo still tries to
control you, but it's not just about your career.
They almost lost you, Stani.
They feel they need to protect you even more
now.
You're more precious to them.”