JOE LEFT within the hour, promising to return, and Susannah had only five minutes to pull herself together before her grandmother showed up with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
“Well?” she demanded of Susannah. “How did it go?”
“You’re the one who had the doctor’s appointment,” Susannah cried, hoping her grandmother wasn’t going to cross-examine her about Joe. She wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, but she certainly knew she didn’t want to discuss it.
Rose was not to be deflected, however. She said, “But you saw Joe again, didn’t you?”
“Only because you orchestrated a meeting that was so obvious, Granny Rose.... Oh, honestly, why are you trying so hard to force us together? We have nothing in common.”
“Nothing in—! Suzie, he finds you very attractive. And you think he’s adorable, don’t you?”
“I do not!” Susannah said hotly. “He’s simply a man you’ve hired to fix your house! He’s nothing to me! He’s—How do you know he finds me attractive?”
Rose laughed heartily. “Because he said so, of course. He told me so this morning. Shall we make some cookies this afternoon? I have those extra pecans. I thought we’d whip up some tassies and put them in the freezer. What do you say?”
“I say you’re driving me crazy.”
“Good. You could use some stirring up, I think. Let’s have a quick sandwich, then get to work on the cookies.”
“Will you tell me what Dr. Phelps had to say while we work?”
“It wasn’t much,” Rose said vaguely, opening cupboards and organizing her ingredients.
But Susannah wasn’t going to be put off any longer. “Could the doctor explain why you fainted last night?”
“Oh, you know Dr. Phelps—he’s so easygoing. He joked that I’d probably had too much sherry.”
“He was making jokes? Granny Rose, when I came in here last night and saw you falling...well, it was no joking matter.”
“I know, dear. It’s just his way. Don’t get huffy.”
“Granny Rose—”
“All right, all right!” Rose gave up being evasive and faced Susannah squarely. “He said I should be faithful about taking my blood pressure medicine. He was quite adamant about that, in fact.”
“Good.” Susannah folded her arms to listen further. “What else?”
“Well...”
“Come on, you’re on a roll. Tell me everything.”
Rose sighed. When she spoke again, it was with reluctance. “Dr. Phelps thinks my condition has changed somewhat. He’d like to do some tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
“Heart tests. I don’t remember the different kinds. They all have initials instead of names—EKG, that kind of thing.”
“What does he suspect?”
“Oh, he hates to speculate until he has some concrete evidence. Doctors are so hard to pin down these days. And he didn’t want me to worry needlessly.”
“All right, when do you start the tests? Can he fit you in quickly?”
Rose turned away and began to search the cupboard shelves. “Relatively quickly. Where did I put that can of tuna? I’m in the mood for a tuna sandwich. I told him I’d like to wait until after the holidays to start taking a bunch of tests. And he agreed. It’s only a little more than a week or two, really.”
“But a lot can happen in a week or two, Granny Rose.” Susannah tried not to sound argumentative. “Especially around Christmas when you’re so busy and excited. Are you sure you should put this off?”
“I’d be miserable if I had to give up my Christmas plans—you know that, Suzie. I’ll do it in January—the day after New Year’s, I promise.”
The second of January was the best Susannah could hope for, she supposed. “And until then?” she asked. “You’re going to take care of yourself?”
“Of course, dear! I’ll pamper myself shamelessly. Now, how about some celery for a tuna salad? Will you get it out of the refrigerator, please?”
Susannah helped her grandmother in the kitchen and watched her like a hawk for signs of fatigue or lightheadedness. She wondered what the doctor had found when he examined Rose. He’d detected a change in her condition, but what kind of change? There was no use questioning Rose further, however. Susannah knew her grandmother wouldn’t say more. She was too stubborn, and too determined to enjoy her Christmas plans.
They fixed quick tuna-salad-and-lettuce sandwiches, which they ate with cups of tea. Afterward, they buckled down to the task of making cookies for Rose’s upcoming party. Susannah made sure that her grandmother got the least strenuous jobs, so Rose sat at the table and rolled the dough into balls, then pressed them into the tassie tins. Susannah bustled around the kitchen and attempted to clean up the mess as they went along.
About midafternoon, Joe Santori telephoned. Susannah picked up the receiver herself.
“How’s your grandmother?” Joe asked without preamble. He didn’t need to identify himself. What other man on the planet had such a mellifluous voice?
“Not bad,” Susannah said, amazed by the way her pulse jumped at the sound of Joe’s voice at the other end of the line. “She’s going to have some tests after the holidays.”
“Do you think it’s wise to wait?”
“I’m not the one making the decision,” Susannah said, noting that Rose was watching with an avid look in her eye.
“I see,” Joe said. “And you can’t make her see reason?”
“That’s not our style,” Susannah replied. “Have you prepared an estimate for the work you’re going to do on the house?”
“Your grandmother said she didn’t need one,” Joe retorted, then laughed. “But I’m writing up one anyway. Don’t worry, Miss Suzie. I’m not in the business of ripping off helpless little old ladies.”
“She’s not exactly helpless.”
“Amen. What does she say about dinner tonight? Would she like to come along with us?”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Susannah said, painfully aware that her grandmother was listening to every word of the conversation. “A quiet evening at home is what she needs, I think.”
“But what about you?” Joe pressed. “My guess is that you’ve had far too many quiet evenings at home, Miss Suzie.”
“Really, I can’t go out to dinner tonight. I’m here to see my grandmother, not—”
“Go!” Rose cried. “Don’t worry about me!”
“Granny Rose—”
“Is that Joe? And he wants you to have dinner with him tonight? Heavens, dear, don’t be an idiot! Go!”
In her ear, Joe was laughing. “See?” he asked. “She’s on my side!”
“Granny Rose, I can’t possibly leave you alone tonight. I’m here to visit with you, not, well—”
“You can visit with me any old time,” Rose shot back. “Besides, I don’t want to miss ‘EastEnders.’ I get it on cable, and it’s my favorite show. I was just going to go to bed after that. For heaven’s sake, you’ll be bored to death if you stay here!”
“But—”
“Don’t argue, dear. Go have a good time.”
“I can’t—”
“Don’t argue,” said Joe, adding to Susannah’s confusion. “We’ll see a movie and have a late dinner—something quick so you won’t be gone long.”
“I don’t have any clothes,” Susannah objected, weakening fast as they ganged up on her. “Just my jeans and a sweater.”
“Perfect. This isn’t Milwaukee, you know. Just Tyler. People wear what’s comfortable. See you at six-thirty?”
Susannah surrendered with a sigh. “All right. At six-thirty.”
Rose gave a whoop of pleasure as Susannah hung up. “How delightful! Oh, you’ll have fun. Isn’t Joe a charmer?”
“He’s a charmer, all right,” Susannah grumbled, surprised by her own behavior. “I can’t believe I agreed to go out with him. He’s so...different.”
“You’ll like him,” Rose promised. “Now, let’s get these cookies into the oven.”
They finished baking cookies, although Susannah found she had a hard time concentrating on the work. Her mind wandered from Joe Santori to Rose’s health and back again, so that she forgot to set the timer once and nearly burned a batch of pecan tassies.
Fortunately, they were only slightly overcooked. Rose cavalierly put them on a plate and offered the cookies to some neighbors who dropped in during the afternoon—Mrs. Connelly and her twin three-year-olds. The children were a couple of hooligans, in Susannah’s opinion, but Rose didn’t mind their noise a bit and invited them to make snowflakes by dipping bits of string into a hastily prepared starch mixture. The children were fascinated by the activity, and Susannah gradually found herself warming to them. She enjoyed herself, in fact. After she clipped the snowflakes to a string overhead to dry, she made a mental note to share the snowflake idea with her television viewers.
Late in the afternoon, when the neighbors were gone and the kitchen was cleaned up once and for all, Rose announced her plan to go into the parlor with a cup of tea and the newspaper.
“I’m just going to put up my feet and relax for a while,” she said, toddling off toward the parlor. “Why don’t you get ready for your date, Suzie? Isn’t it getting late?”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly six.”
“Good grief!” Susannah whipped off her borrowed apron and tossed it onto a chair. “I’m so terrible about times. If it weren’t for my secretary, I’d be a walking disaster. Maybe I’d better cancel with Joe.”
“You have plenty of time,” said Rose, amused. “Remember, it was me who organized your life before you had the luxury of a secretary. Go take a bath and put on a pretty face for Joe. Don’t cancel.”
Cautiously, Susannah said, “I’d like to.”
“Why? He’s so sweet!”
“I don’t know,” she murmured uncertainly. “I just—I don’t feel safe with him, somehow.”
“Not safe? Suzie, he’s the kindest man I know!”
“It’s not that,” Susannah said quickly. “It’s... Oh, I’m not sure. I feel funny—not quite in control, I suppose.”
“What are you afraid of?”
Myself, Susannah wanted to say. She didn’t feel like herself with Joe. She didn’t feel in charge. But she plastered a smile on her face and said, “Oh, nothing. I just have a case of first-time nerves, I guess.”
“There’s only one way to get over those,” Rose said. “Plunge right in and get it over with. Now, go make yourself beautiful. Joe deserves it.”
Susannah didn’t know what Joe Santori deserved, but she found herself running a hot bath and pouring some of her grandmother’s bath salts into the water before stepping into the tub. While soaking there, Susannah smeared a marvelous cream she’d recently discovered on her face and was glad to see her skin emerge pink and smooth twenty minutes later.
“Anything to fight off the wrinkles a little longer,” she murmured to her reflection in the steamed bathroom mirror. “I’m certainly not doing this for his benefit!”
But she couldn’t imagine why she applied her makeup with extra care. After all, there was nothing in the wind between herself and Joe Santori.
“We’re very different,” she told her reflection in the mirror. “Completely different. We have nothing in common. Besides, he’s bossy, and I hate that.”
After standing over her small suitcase and lamenting her lack of nice clothing, Susannah reached for her jeans again and put on the bright sweater she’d bought at Gates that morning. She tucked the sweater into her jeans and clasped one of Rose’s narrow gold belts around her waist. A simple gold necklace made the outfit special. The effect was casual enough for a movie, she decided, but had a dash of panache, too—just the right impression to give Joe. Susannah wanted him to think she had a lot of sophistication—and no time for a relationship with a small-town carpenter.
She combed her hair, studied it for a moment, then pulled it smoothly back from her face and pinned it so that the curl brushed the back of her neck. Without thinking, she spritzed some perfume on her throat, then scolded herself. “For heaven’s sake, don’t do anything that might give him the wrong impression!”
But she couldn’t resist adding just a glimmer of extra lipstick before snapping off the lights and leaving her bedroom. At the bottom of the steps, Susannah sat down to pull on her boots.
Rose emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands in a towel. “Joe called. He wondered if you’d mind walking over to his house. He’s running late. Something about another job he’s working on.”
Susannah grinned. “That’s the difference between Tyler and the city. If a man asked me out to dinner there and couldn’t be bothered to pick me up, I’d be annoyed.”
Rose nodded. “But here it’s just a courtesy. Do you mind?”
“I figure he’d like you to meet his daughter, Gina.”
“I met her already.”
Rose laughed. “Well, she improves as you get to know her.”
“I don’t intend to get to know her, Granny Rose.”
“Why not? She’s a nice kid. Just talk about sports with Gina, and she’ll warm up. You’ll see what I mean.” Rose kissed Susannah’s cheek. “Enjoy yourself, dear.”
With her boots and coat on, Susannah felt her courage fail, and she turned to her grandmother anxiously. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you tonight? You’ve had a busy day, after all—”
“Don’t be silly! I took it easy today!” Rose protested heartily. “Now, run along and leave me alone.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I’m used to living by myself. Have a wonderful time, dear. Keep an open mind.”
With mixed feelings, Susannah left her grandmother and headed for Joe’s house. She walked the distance quickly, her gloved hands tucked into the pockets of her coat to stay warm. The air was cold and crystalline, and the light scent of wood smoke that hung over Tyler should have calmed her nerves. Most of the houses along Susannah’s route were already lit up with Christmas lights. At the large brick house on the next corner, the family had gone overboard, with a life-size illuminated Santa, four electronic elves, and a lighted Rudolph. Chipmunk Christmas carols blared out of a loudspeaker in one of the trees.
Susannah turned up the walk to Joe’s house and marched for the front door, determined that her courage should not fail her now. The knocker was a hand-carved woodpecker. She lifted it and rapped three times.
Gina answered the door, and the smell of pizza emanated from behind her. “Oh, hi,” she said to Susannah. “It’s you again. My dad’s on the phone.”
“I’ll wait,” Susannah said sedately. “May I come in?”
“Sure.” Gina pulled the door wide. “But I warn you, he’s got a date tonight.”
“I know,” Susannah replied, cringing inside at the word date. She stepped into the house. “It’s with me.”
“With you?” Gina’s face froze. “I thought you came back for— I didn’t think he meant you were the hot number that—”
“Hot number?”
“He said...he was just joking, and I...jeez, I didn’t think you were dating him when you were here before.”
“I wasn’t. I’m not. We’re getting together for...well, to talk about my grandmother.”
“That’s not what Dad said.”
The accusation in Gina’s voice was unmistakable, and Susannah knew she wasn’t pleased that her father was seeing Susannah socially. And maybe she didn’t like the idea of her father seeing anyone. The resentment in Gina’s glare shook Susannah, but she decided not to let the girl upset her.
“Is that a stove timer I hear?” she inquired calmly.
The unmistakable bell of the microwave oven carried to them from the kitchen. Gina hesitated, then slammed the door and bounded for the kitchen, sending a look over her shoulder that was far from friendly.
Susannah stood uncomfortably in the hallway, wondering if she should follow the teenager or stay put. From up the stairs came the recorded strains of opera music—a soprano belting out a song Susannah didn’t recognize. The hallway was cluttered with all manner of teenage goods—a book bag abandoned on the floor, several pairs of shoes hopelessly heaped near the throw rug, a set of headphones and a basketball balanced on the chair by the stairs.
There were signs of Joe, too. His scruffy parka had been left on the newel post, and just looking at it caused Susannah to speculate on how warm and soft it might feel.
On the small table by the door stood some picture frames. Susannah peeked at them and found several images of Gina—in younger years—grinning at her. The largest photo was that of a woman with a cloud of dark hair and solemn brown eyes, who looked very much like Gina.
With a start, Susannah realized she was probably looking at Gina’s mother, Joe’s wife. Hastily, she stepped back from the photo display.
Gina poked her head around the kitchen doorway. “If you’re hungry,” she snapped, “Dad made some hors d’oeuvres. I’m supposed to give you some.”
Hors d’oeuvres. Intrigued, Susannah took off her coat and followed Gina into the kitchen to sample Joe’s idea of an appetizer. She hoped his daughter hadn’t had time to poison them yet.
The kitchen smelled spicy. She recognized the scent of basil and rosemary—very Italian smells, in her mind. Although Joe’s was a modern kitchen, it was very cluttered, with a startling variety of pots and pans hanging overhead, a rack of fancy bottled vinegars and the largest selection of wines Susannah had ever seen outside a restaurant. Joe had converted an old side porch into a wine closet, and all the bottles were labeled and meticulously dusted.
Gina pulled a tray out from under the broiler and set it on the tile countertop. “Here,” she said. “Dad said you’d like these. I think they’re gross.”
Despite that recommendation, Susannah gingerly approached the tray. “Mushrooms!”
“Yeah, they came from Italy two days ago.” Gina dropped her hot mitts on the counter. “We have relatives who keep smuggling stuff like that to us. They’ve got some kind of cheese and fish inside. Go ahead and try one, if you dare.”
Susannah did try one and found the combination of flavors delectable. The stuffed mushrooms practically melted on her tongue. “Marvelous!”
“You want a glass of wine? My dad picked out a bottle.”
“Thank you. That would be nice.”
Although Gina’s manner was determinedly insolent, the girl did know her manners. Susannah was impressed that she knew how to entertain a guest while waiting for her father. From a distant counter, Gina removed a bottle of red wine that had been breathing there. She poured a stemmed glass half-full and passed it to Susannah, who carried it to one of the stools at the counter, where she could nibble on the mushrooms.
Gina began to cut up a microwave pizza. She licked her fingers when she was finished and caught Susannah watching her. Sensing disapproval, she said, “I make my own dinner when Dad goes out. He doesn’t like this microwaved stuff, but I do. And he hates pizza. He says it perpetuates a stereotype. But it’s easy to make.”
“I’m sure he appreciates your self-sufficiency.”
Gina looked suspicious, as if not believing Susannah’s compliment. “Yeah,” she said.
Susannah had never spent much time around children. Teenagers were even more mystifying, for their mood swings seemed completely unpredictable. Susannah found herself at a loss for conversation. Sipping her wine—a dry, flavorful red—she tried to come up with a subject.
The local newspaper had been left open on the counter, and someone had circled a notice with red marker. Susannah reached for the paper.
“Oh, the Tinsel Ball,” she said, reading the notice. “I remember that dance. It was the biggest event of the year, after the homecoming weekend.”
Gina threw a murderous look at the paper. “Yeah. It’s next week.”
“Oh! You’re going, I suppose?”
Gina toyed with her pizza, as if suddenly not very hungry. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Do they still decorate the gym and bring in a fountain for the evening?”
Gina nodded coldly. “And two hundred poinsettia plants this year. It’s going to be real pretty.”
“When I was in ninth grade, I bought my first strapless dress,” Susannah said, recalling the dance as if it had only happened a few months ago. “And, of course, a strapless bra to go with it. But I didn’t quite fill out the bra, if you know what I mean. So it kept slipping down all night. The dress stayed in place, but the bra ended up around my waist, and I couldn’t do anything about it!”
A small smile appeared on the girl’s face, but disappeared again quickly. Gina said, “I have a hard time imagining any embarrassing stuff happening to somebody like you.”
“Believe me, I have my share of embarrassing moments.” With your father, for example. “Fortunately, my date didn’t have the faintest idea anything was wrong. Who is your date going to be?”
Gina froze in the act of biting into her pizza. “My date?”
“Yes. Or don’t girls need dates to go to the Tinsel Ball anymore?”
“Oh, I could go alone if I wanted to,” Gina said, suddenly concentrating on a speck of cheese on her pizza crust. “But I’ll have a date. I just haven’t gotten around to...well, I’ve been busy, see.”
Susannah did see. Gina didn’t have a date yet. Sipping from her wineglass, Susannah said casually, “Well, sometimes it’s hard waiting for the right boy to ask.”
Gina’s eyes blazed. “Oh, I could ask a boy myself, if I just...if I wanted to. But like I said, I’ve been pretty busy.”
Susannah began to catch on. Casually, she picked at her mushroom and asked, “Who did you have in mind?”
Gina shrugged. “I dunno. I’ll get around to asking somebody sooner or later.” She bit into her pizza and chewed, eyeing Susannah as she ate. It was obvious that she was deciding how to handle the situation. Finally, after swallowing, Gina asked, “Did you invite my dad out tonight, or did he invite you?”
“Ah, he did the inviting.”
Gina nodded thoughtfully. “Do you like him?”
Caught off guard, Susannah said automatically, “Why, yes, I do.”
“He’s kinda weird sometimes.”
Warily, Susannah said, “He seems very nice.”
“Do you like him a lot?” Gina pressed.
Susannah cleared her throat. “I’ve only just met him.”
She couldn’t guess what was going on in the teenager’s mind, for Gina’s face did not readily reveal her thoughts. The girl chewed her pizza, staring at Susannah for another long, contemplative moment. Then she said, “You’re pretty nice.”
“Why, thank you.”
“My dad knows lots of nice ladies, but you’re nicer than most.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“But you know,” Gina went on, “that he already has a girlfriend.”
Susannah nearly choked on the bit of stuffed mushroom that suddenly lodged in the back of her throat. She took a slug of wine, but it didn’t help. She coughed.
Joe had a girlfriend? Of course, you ninny, she lectured herself. A man as pleasant and attractive as Joe would naturally have a steady female friend. It’s just surprising he has only one, when you think about it.
When she could breathe again, Susannah looked at Gina through watery eyes. “Oh, really?” she managed to ask.
Gina nodded, looking decidedly pleased with herself. “Yeah, they’ve been going together for years. She’s really pretty.”
“I see.”
“They go back a long way,” Gina added. “And I like her a lot, too. Her name’s, uh, Angelica. Yeah, that’s it. Angelica.”
“That’s quite an unusual name,” Susannah said vaguely, still recovering from the surprise.
Gina’s brow puckered. “You think so?’
“Unusual, but very pretty.”
Gina grinned. “Yeah, I think so, too.”
Susannah ate another mushroom and told herself she shouldn’t be disappointed. On the contrary, she should be thankful! Joe wasn’t looking for companionship at all. He already had a relationship. Since he was already attached, Susannah thought she should feel relieved.
But, oddly enough, she didn’t feel relief.
The mushrooms suddenly weren’t so delicious anymore. She took another long swallow of wine but a persistent lump remained in her throat.
A whistle and the thud of footsteps on the carpeted stairs heralded Joe’s arrival in the kitchen. He appeared a moment later, looking quite different in a blue button-down work shirt with a red knit tie and a clean pair of jeans. His hair was combed, his face was shaved, and he was every bit as dashing as before—just cleaned up. He looked tall and handsome and full of extraordinary vitality. Susannah’s heart was suddenly kerthumping in her chest.
His grin was sexy and familiar as he scanned her outfit and returned his gaze to her face. It was a glance that turned Susannah to butter inside. “Hello, Miss Suzie,” he said, his voice caressingly mellow. What a voice! “I’m sorry I took so long.”
Susannah slid off her stool, wondering why she had to feel like such a gawky girl when he appeared. She couldn’t remember a man ever making her feel so nervous. “Hello. Gina and I were just...we had a chance to chat.”
“Great. Learn anything I ought to know?”
“Oh, Dad.”
Joe laughed and gave his daughter’s neck a fatherly squeeze. Susannah couldn’t speak. For her, the moment was suddenly fraught with what might have been.
He’s already got a life, she said to herself. And it doesn’t include you. She was surprised to find herself feeling very disappointed.
“Did you like the mushrooms?” Joe asked, turning on Susannah again.
She summoned a smile. “Yes, they’re delicious. You’re an accomplished cook.”
“Don’t give me the credit. It’s the mushrooms.”
“Gina said they came from your family in Italy.”
He scooped one of the appetizers off the tray and popped it into his mouth with gusto. “They did indeed. I’m sure my relatives are breaking half a dozen laws by sending these all the time, but what can I do? We might as well enjoy them before we get arrested by the customs agents. Here, have another.”
“Oh, I’ve had enough—”
“You’d better have another,” Joe warned. “The movie I want to see starts at seven-thirty. There’s no time to eat before the show. Do you mind? I’ve been waiting for this one to come to town for a long time. I don’t want to miss it.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“Great.” Another heart-stopping grin. “Then we can have a quick dinner afterward.”
After what? Susannah wondered what kind of movie Joe Santori anticipated with such relish. Something with football players and car crashes? Tough guys getting thrown through glass windows? She managed a weak smile.
“We’ll talk then,” Joe promised. “And get to know each other.”
The look he gave Susannah—long lashes drooping over smoldery dark eyes—positively crackled with implications. Susannah almost laughed nervously. How did he think he could get away with making bedroom eyes at her while his pretty Angelica lurked in the wings?
Susannah set her wineglass on the counter. “Shall we go?”
“Sure.”
Joe wolfed down one more mushroom and indicated the front door with his outstretched hand. Susannah started to leave, then turned back to face the teenager. “It was nice to talk with you, Gina.”
The girl looked startled for a second, and Susannah realized she had caught her in an unguarded moment. For a second, Gina had been smiling with great delight at some inner joke. But she quickly collected herself and said, “Nice talking with you, too, Mrs. Atkins.”
“Miss,” Joe corrected. “Or is it Ms.?”
Gina was blushing by that time. “Okay, Susannah. See you around.”
“Thanks for the snacks and drink.”
Momentarily puzzled by the girl, Susannah walked to the front door and picked up her coat from the chair where she’d left it. Smoothly, Joe took the coat from her hands and helped her into it. She turned around to face him while she fastened the buttons. “Your daughter is very nice.”
Joe grinned and kept his voice low. “Sometimes. That kid will be the death of me yet.”
“Oh?”
“I think I’m raising a pathological liar. Or a professional athlete.” Joe stopped Susannah’s hands, for she had begun to do up the buttons crookedly. As if they had known each other for years, he pushed her hands away and buttoned her coat himself, saying, “She plays every sport offered at her school—at the loss of her study time.”
Susannah felt a little breathless when his gentle touch seemed to linger over her breasts. She said, “Gina seems very bright and—and attractive.”
“The brightness came from her mother,” said Joe, finishing the buttons. “But the attractive part is purely from my side of the family.”
Susannah found herself smiling up at him in the shadowy hallway. “And the humble part?”
“None of us are humble,” Joe replied.
They stood toe to toe for a long moment, and Susannah held her breath. With Joe’s hands still on her coat, it was a simple matter for him to tug her even closer. She did not resist. Nor did she try to stop him when he slowly bent closer yet and pressed a warm kiss on her mouth. Susannah didn’t pull away, although she’d been caught off guard. Her brain commanded her to step back, but she found she couldn’t obey. His kiss was warm and gentle, and the sensations that suddenly bubbled up from inside her were pleasantly exciting. Before she knew it, she was standing on tiptoe and kissing him back, eyes closed and every nerve ending alight.
Then he released her gently, setting her back down on her heels.
“What was that for?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure. I thought you wanted it.”
“I thought you wanted it.”
“Well, no harm done, right?” He grinned and ran one fingertip down her cheek—a touch that was quick and light, but just as powerful as a punch. Susannah swayed and caught her breath.
Obviously aware of his effect on her, Joe flashed her another smile as he turned to the closet to find his own coat. It was a navy duffel coat, warm and serviceable. He slid into it while ushering Susannah out the front door.
“’Night, Gina!” he called back into the house.
“’Night, Daddy! Have fun!”
“We’ll be back before eleven.”
“I’ll study till then.”
Joe laughed under his breath and shook his head. “See what I mean?” he said to Susannah. “The kid lies like a rug.”
“Maybe she really will study,” said Susannah, relieved to have something to talk about.
“Sports Illustrated, no doubt. But it is Saturday night.” Joe took her arm quite naturally as they started down the porch steps together. “I hope you don’t mind riding in my pickup.”
“I could have driven my car....”
“I like to be behind the wheel.”
“You like to be the boss,” Susannah shot back lightly.
“My wife used to say I’d make a good president, except that I’d have to do everything myself.”
Susannah appreciated the tight pressure of Joe’s grip on her arm. It made her feel secure, even brave. “I saw a photo of your wife in the hallway. She was lovely.”
“Yes, she was,” Joe said promptly. “In lots of ways. I still miss her.”
Susannah was surprised to hear him speak so bluntly and unselfconsciously, but it was a pleasant quality in a man. She let him guide her to his pickup truck, parked in the driveway by the garage. It looked battered and well-used, but when Susannah slid into the passenger seat she noticed the vehicle was clean and as carefully maintained as everything else in Joe’s life. He closed the door and walked around the truck, humming.
The drive to the theater took twenty minutes, for it was located in the next town, Belton. Joe drove sedately and asked Susannah a few questions about her grandmother and the house repairs he was going to make. Those were safe subjects, and Susannah was glad to answer him—glad he wasn’t making her uncomfortable by talking about the spontaneous kiss that had happened in his hallway. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened, since she didn’t usually allow such familiarities on a first date. But Joe was unusual. Definitely unusual.
During the ride, Susannah was glad Joe had to keep his eyes on the road—and off her. It gave her time to relax. While he drove, she stole glances at his profile, illuminated by the dashboard lights. In the half-light, she decided, he was even more attractive than ever. His dramatic profile and curly hair were those of an operatic hero.
And his voice in the small confines of the truck—! His laughter tingled in her ears, and his quiet murmurs sent shivers of some nameless emotion quivering into the deepest recesses of Susannah’s body.
What does he have up his sleeve? she wondered. If he’s already got a lady friend, why is he taking the time to get to know me? Is he trying to reach the same kinds of conclusions about me that I’m trying to reach about him?
The theater lay midway along the main street, and Joe found a parking space a block away.
“The movie’s not going to attract a big crowd,” he said, slipping the truck into the space.
“Oh?” With some apprehension, Susannah asked, “What movie are we seeing?”
“Didn’t I tell you? It’s La Traviata.”
“What?” Susannah asked, surprised that he’d mentioned the name of an opera. Surely some hotshot Hollywood filmmaker had given the same name to a karate movie. Susannah asked apprehensively, “What’s it about?”
“It’s an opera. Oh, don’t worry. It’s got subtitles,” Joe assured her, surprising the heck out of Susannah. “It’s had mixed reviews, but who cares about the production values and acting? It’s the music I love.” He sang a couple of bars, then looked at Susannah with brows raised. “You do like opera, don’t you?”
She couldn’t stop a smile. “I know very little about opera.”
He blinked at her in amazement. “You’re kidding. Not even La Bohème? The Barber of Seville?”
“I’m sorry.” Susannah spread her hands helplessly. “When I think of opera, I think of huge women wearing braids and Viking helmets. I’m almost completely ignorant. But not,” she said hastily, “unwilling to learn. It sounds like fun.”
His gaze grew warm again. “Aha. At last, a willing pupil. Gina refuses to appreciate opera. But tonight, Miss Suzie, you will be transported.”
And she was, in a limited way. The tiny theater—one of four that the old Belton cinema had been remodeled into—was completely empty except for one elderly man wearing a Siberian fur hat, which he didn’t take off during the entire movie. Joe felt free, therefore, to whisper occasional asides to Susannah during the two-hour presentation.
The music was magnificent, she had to admit. And thanks to the subtitles, Susannah could follow the plot without too much difficulty. Joe explained the subtleties of the story and characters, and Susannah appreciated his soft murmurings in her ear when things became confusing.
“It was wonderful!” she declared when the credits had rolled and even the man in the Siberian hat had left the theater.
“You’re not just saying that? I know opera can be an acquired taste.”
“I enjoyed it very much,” she said honestly as they climbed into their coats and drifted out the rear doors with the crowd coming out of a more popular movie. “How did you come to love opera so much?”
“My father was a tenor.”
“A tenor? You mean a real opera singer?” Susannah was astonished.
“Yes, a real singer.” Joe grinned at her expression. “He performed all over the world. Not in the largest concert halls in the most important roles, but he did have a respectable career. His favorite role was Don Giovanni. He sang in Venice twice—probably his career highlight.”
“My goodness, how wonderful! And you followed in his footsteps?”
“Not exactly.” Joe’s smile grew nostalgic. “I didn’t have what it took. And my father died when I was quite young. I never really knew him well, to tell the truth. But I listened to his recordings for hours and that’s how I picked up most of what I know.”
“I’ve heard you sing,” Susannah said shyly. “You sound marvelous to me.”
“Thank you, Miss Suzie, but I know my limitations. I’m afraid the only performances I’ll ever give will be in the shower.”
“You’re better than that,” Susannah said, but she did not press him further. As they got back into Joe’s truck, she asked with genuine curiosity, “Will you tell me more about your family?”
He talked offhandedly during the ride back to Tyler, telling Susannah about his younger brothers and a sister who all lived in Chicago. His mother was also living, for she had married young. Her husband, Joe said, had been twenty years her senior, but she—a young girl in Palermo—had fallen madly in love with him and married the older Italian-American man despite her family’s objections. He’d brought her to the States and fathered four children. When he died at the age of forty-seven, she raised their children single-handedly, without benefit of any life insurance policies. Joe’s father, it seemed, had gambled away most of his earnings as a small-time opera star.
“It was tough on her,” Joe said, “but I don’t think my mother would have it any other way. She likes to work. Even now, she helps out in soup kitchens, and at the church, teaching English to immigrants.”
“She must be a remarkable woman.”
“She is.”
“And your brothers and sister? Do any of them sing?”
“No, we had all seen the underside of the glamorous life,” Joe said without a trace of bitterness. “None of us wanted a career in music. My brothers all work with their hands—Carlo is a stonemason, Anthony owns an auto body shop that specializes in foreign cars and Frank is a sculptor. My sister Gina is a chef in a restaurant.”
“You named your daughter after your sister.”
“My wife did, actually. She and Gina were friends and grew up together. That’s how I met Marie in the first place. She came home with Gina all the time when we were kids.”
“So you married your childhood sweetheart?”
“I guess so,” Joe replied, in a tone that indicated he had ventured as far as he wanted to go into that story for one night.
“So how did you end up in Tyler?” Susannah asked.
“Oh, that’s not a very interesting tale. I had been a carpenter in Chicago, but I didn’t like working for somebody else. I didn’t like working for the crooked operations, and that’s just about all there was at that time. I went to night school and became an engineer so I could get into another line of work. After Marie died, I needed a change of scenery, so I shopped around for another job and ended up applying at Ingalls Farm and Machinery. It was the best offer I had, so I came.”
“But you didn’t last at Ingalls, I notice.”
He sent her a smile. “I didn’t, did I? I guess I still hadn’t gotten over that part about working for somebody else. I started moonlighting—doing fix-up jobs. Pretty soon I was swamped with calls from people who wanted me to build them something, so I started working for myself.”
“And you’ve done pretty well, I understand.”
He laughed. “Oh, I’m keeping one step ahead of the bankers. And I’m putting a little money away for Gina’s education, so I feel pretty comfortable.”
“Sounds like your life is in order.”
“Well,” said Joe, “I won’t go that far.”
Joe was surprised to find himself talking so freely to Susannah Atkins, of all people. He had expected to be attracted by her all evening—especially after that first glimpse of her standing in his kitchen in her fire-engine-red sweater and snug jeans. But he hadn’t expected to find her such a good listener. She seemed truly intrigued by the things he talked about.
But good conversation went two ways, so he switched the subject. “How about you?” he asked. “How come you left Tyler?”
Susannah sighed and gazed out the truck window for a moment. Her pensive look had a melancholy quality all of a sudden, and Joe wondered if he’d inadvertently said something to upset her.
“I’m not even sure now why I left,” she said musingly. “To look for something I couldn’t find at home, I guess.”
“Did you find it?”
“I wasn’t sure what to look for. I’m still not.”
“What is ‘it,’ exactly?”
“My life,” she said wistfully. “Things you already have—work and family and your interest in opera, things that you value. But I...well, sometimes I think I’ve botched things along the way. Despite my success, I haven’t really got what I want out of life.”