Whale Song (25 page)

Nana beckoned me closer. “Anger and resentment can destroy even that which the Great Spirit has created,
Hai Nai Yu
.”

Goldie joined me that afternoon in the hospital cafeteria.

“
How did you know where I was?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Nana knew. She’s always known, Sarah.”

I discovered that before moving to Italy, Nonna Sofia had called Nana and given her the address of my first apartment. From that moment on, the old native woman had kept a watchful eye on me. Whenever I wrote to Nonna Sofia, my grandmother would immediately call Nana.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “What a pair.”

“
They’re two of a kind, our grandmothers,” Goldie agreed.

The next thing we knew, we were howling with laughter. People stared at us as if we had lost our minds. As we wiped our tearing eyes on our shirtsleeves, I stared at her. It was as if we’d never been apart.

“
So what’s new with you?” I asked.

I was surprised by the changes in her life. I discovered that she was engaged to a local native artist. Nelson Fergis specialized in carving huge twenty-foot totems. It made me remember my small hand-painted totem pole stored in the shoebox in my closet.

I left Nana and Goldie that evening, promising that I’d return the following morning. Goldie looked surprised when I told her I was staying at a hotel in Victoria until Nana was released from the hospital.

“
Can you do that, Sarah?” she asked. “I mean with your job?”

I chuckled wryly. “I haven’t taken a holiday since I started there. They owe me.”

Nana’s fractured ribs mended quickly while the dark bruises covering her body slowly faded. But when the doctor removed the cloth from her eyes two days later, her sight was gone. The doctor suggested that she undergo an operation to try to restore some of her vision.

“
I’m too old for operations,” Nana muttered, refusing to consider it. “I can see everything I need to. Right here.” She pointed to her head.

Goldie and I became absorbed in renewing our friendship and I never realized until that moment how much I had missed her. I missed sharing my thoughts with someone. We walked around Victoria, arm in arm, giggling like teenagers and ignoring the odd looks that we received.

“
You ever hear from Annie?” I asked, curious.

“
Yeah, she’s in Ethiopia now.”

I stared at her, stunned. “What the hell is she doing there?”

“
She’s building wells.” She giggled.

“
What do you mean, building wells?”

“
She married a Presbyterian minister. They have two children, both boys. They’re living in Ethiopia, building drinking wells in some of the villages.”

I was speechless.

Goldie nodded. “I know. Who would’ve ever thought, huh?”

“
Yeah,” I agreed.

We sat by the water fountain in the park across from the hospital and watched a group of young Sea Cadets. They were playing baseball. Two Cadet instructors―one wearing a purple shirt―had their backs to me. They were busily instructing the children in the rules of the game. One team wore black and silver jerseys while the other wore green and blue.

The innocent, carefree laughter of the children mesmerized me, as did the lean form of one of the men―the instructor of the black team. I laughed when a baseball rolled toward us and stopped a few feet away. The child in me wanted to get up, grab the ball and pitch it across the field. But that child was gone.

“
What about you, Sarah?” Goldie asked, interrupting my thoughts. “How’s your dad doing?”

I shook my head, the smile fading from my face. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

She eyed me, curious. “Don’t you visit him?”

“
No,” I said firmly. “He asked me to stop visiting a long time ago.” I left it at that, hoping that she wouldn’t persist.

If she
was
about to say something, she was interrupted by a loud shout from the field. The group of Sea Cadets cheered as one small boy ran around all the bases. He skidded to a stop past home plate. The black and silver team had won.

The Cadet instructor in the purple shirt high-fived his team, gathered up the baseball bats and motioned for the kids to pick up the stray balls. A short, stocky boy left the group and ran toward us. As he leaned down to pick up the baseball, he glanced up at me and smiled sweetly.

I waved to him, but when I noticed his jersey logo, I froze.

Sidney Sea Wolves
.

A vision of yellow eyes flashed in my head.

“
Wolves,” I mumbled, my mouth suddenly dry.

The boy’s smile faded and he eyed me guardedly. Then he darted away, his shoes kicking up dust. I have no idea what he thought when he heard that one word, but I do know one thing. I had frightened him.

Squinting into the sunlight, I watched as he approached the well-built man in the purple shirt. The boy whispered something in the Cadet instructor’s ear. The man draped a comforting arm around the boy’s shoulder, then hastily glanced my way.

I couldn’t see him clearly, but I knew that he wasn’t pleased.

Nana recuperated from the car accident, stubbornly refusing to use any topical medicines except her native remedies. Oddly enough, her cuts healed without leaving a scar. Even the doctors were amazed.

Determined to get back to work, I returned to Vancouver a week later―much to Goldie’s dismay. I was just finishing an ad campaign for a new nightclub in Burnaby when the phone rang.

“Sarah?”

It was my father.

“What do you want, Dad?” I asked stiffly.

“I…I’m getting out next month,” he said in a hesitant voice. “They’re letting me out on early parole. I’d like to see you, Sarah. Before I get out. I…miss you.” His voice sounded old and rough, but his words sounded sincere.

They stirred my guilt. I’d spent years carefully warehousing my emotions, stowing them in the dark recesses of my mind.

Now my father was back. And he was opening
Pandora’s Box
.

I let out a weary sigh. “Dad, I, uh―”

The door to my office was flung open and my heavily scented supervisor tiptoed in. He grinned and gave me an exaggerated bow. William West―a.k.a.
Willie
to everyone who knew him―was a colorful character given to flamboyant fashion and dramatic entrances.

“
Sarah!” he hissed.

I pointed to the phone and mouthed,
“I’m busy.”

Willy uttered a contrite gasp, then sidled closer to my desk.

“
Sarah, are you there?” my father said.

“
I can’t talk right now,” I muttered into the receiver. “When will you be―” I flicked a look at Willie. “Out?”

I jotted the information down on a post-it paper.

“
Thanks for calling,” I said in a cool tone. “Goodbye.”

My father was still talking when I hung up.

Willie grinned. “I’m sorry, hon. Did I interrupt something?”

“
No. Nothing important.” My eyes narrowed. “Why, what do you want?”

“
Is that any way to treat your boss?” He stroked his freckled face thoughtfully. “How’s the restaurant coming?”

I watched him, suspicious. “It’s almost done. Why?”

Willie shrugged. “No reason.”

He plopped down in the chair across from me, crossed his legs and folded his well-manicured hands neatly in his lap. His closely cropped, fiery-red hair clashed with his impishly effeminate face and when he grinned at me, I knew that the man had something up his sleeve.

I frowned. “Yeah, right. What do you want this time?”

“We have a new client…and he’s a real babe.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“So what?” I said, uninterested.

“
Well, honey, he specifically requested
you
.”

I gave him a disdainful look. “Why would he ask for me?”

Willie leaned forward. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s outside in the waiting room. Mr. King already interviewed him. You’ve been assigned to help him with logos for his team.” He stood slowly. “Oh, and honey? Let me know if you’d like some help. He’s positively delicious.” He drifted out of my office, leaving behind an overwhelming trail of cologne.

I stared at the wall, curious why a potential client would ask for me. After all, I hadn’t built up much of a reputation in the advertising world and there were others in my department who created sports logos just as well, if not better than I did.

“
What’s so special about this new client?” I muttered.

Gathering my courage, I picked up the phone and turned my chair away from the door. “Maura, the new client―what’s the guy’s name?”

I didn’t hear her reply because someone rudely barged into my office.

“Hey, Sarah,” a deep voice said behind me.

My temper flared. I slammed down the phone, bolted to my feet and whipped around to face the intruder.

“Long time no see,” Adam Reid said.

So many memories crowded my mind that I stammered my response. “H-hi, Adam. W-what are you doing here?”

“Gee,” he said wryly. “If I’d known I’d get this warm a welcome…” He shrugged.

I studied every inch of the man―from his size twelve black dress shoes to his thick chestnut hair flecked with gold. He wore a tailored gray suit that fit his tall, athletic body like a glove. When he smiled again, I noticed that his teeth were perfectly white, perfectly straight. Everything about him was perfect.

I subconsciously wiped invisible drool from my mouth. I was tempted to stand and work off some of the restless energy I felt, yet spellbound by his intense gaze.

One day, Sarah Richardson, I’m going to marry you…

“
Have a seat, Adam,” he mimicked. “Don’t mind if I do.”

He made himself at home in a chair, his extraordinary golden eyes casually sweeping down my body.

“
You look wonderful,” he said.

“
So do you,” I replied mindlessly. “I mean, uh…you look…older.” I twisted uncomfortably and pinched myself under the desk, ordering myself to shut up.

Quit acting like a foolish teenager.

As soon as that thought flickered in my mind, I remembered my first kiss. Adam’s kiss. Blushing, I rose to my feet and stood with the desk between us like a barrier. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I was a professional.

“
So what exactly do you want?” I asked calmly.

There was a gleam in his eyes before he answered. “My kids need some t-shirts designed. For their baseball team.”

His kids?
I felt a lump in my throat.
I wonder how many kids he has…probably broods of them.

“
It’s too hot for jerseys,” he continued. “We want something more visual, something more than just the team name.”

I glanced at his left hand and scowled. The man didn’t even have the decency to wear his wedding ring.

“
Look, Adam,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I’m not in the habit of making uniforms for a family sports day. I usually handle corporate clients―not some dad with enough kids to make a baseball team for crying out loud.”

He stared at me and chuckled softly.

“
What?” I snapped, incensed by his obvious amusement.

“
The t-shirts are for my Sea Cadet team―not my own kids. I don’t have kids. I’m not even married…yet.” He choked off a laugh.

I abruptly closed my mouth, feeling foolish and somewhat relieved by his admission. Embarrassed, I hung my head and tried to sort through my jumbled thoughts.

Treat him like any other client.

“
What kind of logo are you looking for?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject. But I realized that he was like no man I’d ever known.

“
Have dinner with me,” he said smoothly. “To discuss my advertising needs.”

I took a deep breath. “What time?”

“
I’ll pick you up after work.”

He sauntered away like something wild, on the prowl.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I was unable to accomplish any work. My mind constantly flickered to my dinner date with Adam.

“
It’s not a date,” I corrected. “It’s strictly business.”

The restaurant Adam had chosen was
Valencia
―a romantic Italian restaurant on Granville Island that made its own homemade pasta. Soft violin music played in the background, soothing my ruffled nerves. We were seated at a candlelit table on the veranda that overlooked False Creek.

Adam signaled to the waiter. “How about some champagne, Sarah? We can celebrate our new…partnership.”

I looked up at him, confused. “Partnership?”