She'd lingered
in Devin's arms longer than what suddenly felt appropriate and she pulled away,
awkwardness taking over the initial excitement of seeing him.
“So. What
brings you back here? I thought your mom was still living in Connecticut, so
it can't be family. Don't tell me you're tired of the fast lane in New York already?”
He shrugged
slightly. “Well, actually...it was you.”
Cara blinked.
“Me? I don't understand.”
“I got your
birthday card.”
Squinting an
eye, she gave him a teasing sidelong glance. “Not that I'm not flattered, but
you had to come all the way to Westport to thank me for a belated birthday
card?”
He opened his
mouth to speak but his voice was drowned out by a high pitched squeal.
“Devin!”
Ruthie stood on
the porch steps, frantically waving the kitchen towel she held in hand. “I'm
so pleased you were able to make it!”
Cara looked up
at Devin's suddenly suspect grin. “Make it? What’s she talking about?”
Devin greeted
Ruthie with a kiss on the cheek and a hug to Ruthie’s utter delight. “You know
I could never resist you, Ruthie.”
Cara rolled her
eyes to the sky, finally seeing the picture painted before her, one she was
sure her mother artistically created.
“Mother, what
have you done?”
Devin draped
his arm across Cara's shoulders. “Don't be angry with her. I wouldn’t have
missed your birthday party for anything.”
“Who's birthday
party? I'm not having a birthday party.”
“You're just in
time, Devin. I have a lemon meringue pie cooling. I baked it just for you,”
Ruthie said, ignoring Cara’s questioning gaze.
“You’re having
a birthday party for me?” Cara asked, looking at both of them, feeling utterly
clueless.
Devin darted a
glance at Ruthie. “Did I just give something away?”
Ruthie waved
him off. “Of course not. It isn't a surprise.”
“Then why
didn't you tell me you were having a birthday party for me?” Cara asked.
“I meant to but
it must have slipped my mind. I’ve been so busy,” Ruthie said more innocently,
backing up a step toward the porch.
“Uh, huh.”
“You will be
coming to dinner, won't you, Devin?” Ruthie said.
“Of course.
But...”
Devin stared at
her. Cara searched his face for a second and saw no trace of amusement, just a
bewilderment that seemed to match her own. Without a doubt, she knew Mother
Ruthie was up to her old tricks again.
Ruthie stood on
the steps of the porch now and clapped her hands together wildly. “Everything
is going to be such fun now that you’re here, Devin.”
Cara glared at
her mother and then turned her whole body to face Devin, trying her best to
keep in control. “Oh, I'm sure it is. Help me out, Dev. What’s really going
on?”
“Ruthie really
didn’t tell you I was coming to Massachusetts? She called right after I got
your cards.”
“Cards?” Cara
turned on her heels and gaped at Ruthie. Ruthie, in turn, gazed up at the
bright blue sky, avoiding Cara's accusing stare. “I sent one card.”
Ruthie backed
up until she reached the last step of the porch and put her hand to her ear.
“Is that your father calling me?”
“Daddy's at the
hardware store and you know it,” Cara returned.
“Then I think
it must be the timer on the oven. I'll be right back.”
Ruthie
retreated into the house, the screen door slamming behind her. How many times
had Cara been yelled at as a child for doing that very same thing?
Heat filled her
cheeks for the second time that day as she gave Devin a sheepish grin. “Well,
Dev, as you can see, some things never change around here. Sorry you were
railroaded into coming. She must have laid the guilt on pretty thick.”
“I wasn’t
railroaded. Ruthie invited me to your birthday party and I decided to come for
a visit.” He laughed. “She hasn’t changed a bit.”
Cara hooked her
arms around his waist and drew in the seductive scent of his musky aftershave.
She didn’t ever remember a time when she would have noticed such a thing in
Devin.
“Well, I'm glad
you came, for whatever reason. How long are you staying?”
“I'm not quite
sure. The whole trip was spur of the moment.”
“I’m surprised
you could get away on such short notice with your schedule. Or has my mother
had this planned for a long time?”
“She just
called me a few days ago.”
She lowered her
voice when an elderly couple came over to the table and started lifting and
putting down trinkets that were on display. “Uh...where are you staying while
you're here?”
He pointed back
toward the beach. “Believe it or not, I was able to rent the cottage we use to
stay at every summer before...” He broke off and shrugged uncomfortably. Cara
knew immediately what Devin was thinking about.
“Before your
dad...yeah, I know.” She wasn’t there to help him through the days just after
his father funeral. She’d wanted to be there, but when his Dad took a turn for
the worse, the family thought it was best to bring him home to Connecticut.
She called several times a day, talking to him for only brief moments as he
held vigil at his father’s bedside. She knew he needed that time and didn’t
want to intrude.
She'd stood
beside him at the funeral and tried her best to give him some semblance of
comfort during those difficult days. She’d called from college to see how he
was doing only to learn that Devin had left for college immediately following
the funeral, deciding to go to school on the west coast instead of going to
Yale as he’d originally planned. Although she and Devin had written the
occasional letter back and forth for a few years after that, life somehow got
in the way, and they’d drifted apart.
“Ruthie sounds
excited about this move to Florida,” he said, changing the subject.
Cara groaned.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. You can’t believe how much stuff has accumulated
in this house. We’ve already made three trips to Goodwill and I don’t know how
many to the dump.”
He looked
straight at her, as if he was reading her mind. “You always did love this
place. How are you doing with the move? Are you going to be able to part with
this house?”
She puffed her
cheeks. Her first thought was to keep a stiff upper lip, but that would be
ridiculous. Devin had always been able to read her. As he looked at her with
the same caring expression she remembered so vividly from years before, she
realized things were no different now.
“I don’t know.
I’ve lived in Boston for a long time but this has always been home. I can’t
imagine someone else living here.”
She swallowed
hard to fight back the sudden flow of emotion choking her.
“It’s really
great to see you.”
Devin bent
forward, kissing her lightly on the forehead and she breathed in the scent of
him, stirring her. He gave a quick glance around the yard. “Do you need to be
here for this or can you get away for a bit?”
Ruthie poked
her head out the kitchen window just as Cara was about to answer. “Go ahead,
dear. I'm all set.”
They both
turned to face Ruthie.
Reaching back
into the house, she clumsily forced a straw broom through the opened window and
shook it violently. “I wasn't eavesdropping. I was...er...shaking out the
broom.”
Cara rolled her
eyes, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Subtle is her middle name. Did I ever
tell you that?”
“It’s coming
back to me.”
The sun was
still high in the sky as they took the old path down to the jetty where they
used to sit and talk for hours. Cara had walked this path alone many time
since, but something vaguely comforting kept coming to mind as they walked
today.
She bent down
and picked up a broken shell before tossing it back to the sand. “I still
can't believe it's been seventeen years since we've walked along this beach
together.”
“There was an
eagle nesting on that cliff over there that last summer, wasn't there,” Devin
said, pointing to a jagged ridge of rocks beyond the beach.
“I remember.”
Cara plopped
down onto the warm sand and discarded her sandals before burying her toes in
the coolness below the surface of the sand. She threw her head back, resting
with her arms behind her, letting the sun seep into her skin and the music of
the ocean fill her head.
Devin sucked in
a deep breath as he set himself down on the sand next to Cara. She was much
more beautiful than he remembered because now she was no longer a girl, she was
a woman. Her chestnut curls flowed freely down her back to the point of
touching the sand and her creamy skin was as luminous as the sun. As they had
the day he met her, her cinnamon eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. As a
woman, she'd become refined, but he could still see a hint of her untamed
beauty beneath her polished surface.
She lifted her
head and turned to him. “You know, I saw you on CNN a few times.”
He actually felt
heat creep up his face. Now that was a first.
Cara jabbed him
in the ribs teasingly. “Come on. Tell me you don't eat up all that press.”
“It gives my
mother bragging material when she goes to church bingo.”
Cara laughed
that wonderful way he remembered, her nose crinkling at the bridge.
“So, tell me,
what was in the other card my mother sent you?”
“Do you really
want to know?”
Cara made a
face.
“That little
marriage proposal I scribbled on your birthday card for your eighteenth
birthday.”
She shook her
head and sputtered, “I knew she’d try something. No doubt Mom commandeered my
birthday card to you and added her own personal touch.”
Sitting
forward, Cara began sifting sand through her long fingers. A stray lock of
chestnut curls fell forward, framing her smooth tanned face.
“So what was
it? You might as well tell me because I'll never get the truth out of her.”
He grinned.
“It’s pay up time.”
Cara
sputtered. “Figures. I knew I got off way too easy when she found it.”
“She found
it?” He didn’t know why that felt like a sudden jab to his heart. For the
past couple of days, he’d been thinking it had been Cara who had searched him
out, despite the fact that Ruthie had been the one to call. He'd been thinking
of Cara for months and naturally assumed she'd been thinking of him too when he
saw the card. Obviously, he was wrong.
But what
difference did it make? He was here now and that’s all that really mattered.
“We were
rummaging through some old boxes, getting ready for the tag sale. She has
still has this crazy notion that after all these years, you and I should get
married.”
“That’s pretty
much what she told me, too.”
Cara sobered
and flashed him a coy grin. “Is that really what she said?”
“Basically.”
“I’m sorry,
Dev. I’m sure the last thing you expected was to be pulled here by my mother’s
wild ideas.”
“Don't be.
Actually, Ruthie's call couldn’t have come at a better time. It provided me
with a reason to get away from my office.”
“I figured
you'd be in high demand in Manhattan. Heck, after the way CNN went on about
the Great Devin Michaels, I'd think you'd be booked with cases for the next ten
or twenty years.”
Sadly, it had
been coming to that. Not that he was book for the rest of the decade, but far
enough in advance that he'd gone to major blows with the senior partners for
taking an indeterminate amount of leave. Every time he looked at that never
ending road ahead of him, all he wanted to do was turn.
He glanced up
at Cara and saw her probing brown eyes searching his expression. He'd been
right to come home to Westport. He needed clarity in his life and this was
exactly the place he'd get it.
“Nothing that a
few days R&R can’t handle. Like I said, I was glad when Ruthie called and
gave me a reason to get away,” he said, brushing off her concerned look. He
didn't want to delve too deeply into the dark feelings he’d been having about
his chosen career. He was just too damned happy to be there, talking with Cara
like they always had, to think about anything else. There was plenty of time
for soul searching over the next few days.
She didn’t
press him any further, to his great relief. But the tightness in her brow as
she gazed out at the ocean told him she was still thinking about what he'd said.
“So what about
you? You mother was pretty persistent. Any marriage plans you should be
telling me about?” he teased, knowing he’d get a good rise out of her. He
wasn’t disappointed.
“Don't you
start, too.”
He grinned.
“Has she always been like this? I mean, the whole time?”
Cara puffed her
cheeks. “Not really. There were those few months in my mid-twenties when I
was seeing someone she actually liked. I don’t think she wanted to jinx
anything, so she kept quiet. But once I hit thirty...” She whistled and dove
her hand into the sand.
“Pretty much
downhill from there?”
“You know
it!”
Her expression
changed slightly as a flash of pain cross her face. And then it was gone and
she was smiling again.
“You know what
I've been up against my whole life! I just found out the other day she has
been making baby clothes for my future children since I was a baby myself.
Does that sound normal to you?”
“No, but…”
“Yeah, I know.
My family isn’t exactly garden variety.”
“Do you still
feel the same about marriage and children?” he asked. He expected to hear a
resounding “yes” as her answer, but to his surprise, she didn’t.