Coryn opened her eyes and looked around the bedroom. It had been redecorated for her sixteenth birthday. The furniture was the ivory French Provincial she had requested. Wallpaper, curtains, pillows on the curved window seat were all in her favorite color, blue.
The room had suited her perfectly when she was a teenager. But even when she came home from college on spring break or summer vacations, it had seemed juvenile, though she had not spent much time in it. There was always too much to do. Friends to see, places to go. It had just been a place to sleep or change clothes, to come to and leave from.
Everything in the bedroom was familiar. As if she’d never been away. Yet everything had changed. She most of all. From sixteen to twenty-six.
Faintly she heard muted sounds, movement, voices from downstairs. Her parents were probably already up, knew she was home.
She got out of bed and looked out the window. Fog dripped from the Douglas firs surrounding the house. She thought of the days of endless smog-hazy sunshine in L.A. and shivered. She was back in “God’s country,” as natives of the area called it.
In the adjoining pink-tiled bathroom, she splashed water on her face, scrubbed her teeth, brushed and tied her hair back with a ribbon she found in the vanity drawer.
At the doorway of the kitchen, Coryn hesitated a moment, taking in the scene. Cheerful yellow walls, daisy-print café curtains accented the oak cabinets. Pots of red geraniums on the windowsill brightened the gray day outside. Her father stood at the counter, holding the morning paper, scanning the headlines. Her mother sat in the curved breakfast nook sipping a cup of coffee. Coryn realized anew what an extraordinarily good-looking couple her parents were.
Neil Dodge, six-foot and broad-shouldered with iron-gray hair that was perhaps receding a bit these days, was still a handsome man at fifty-five. He had strong features. A prominent nose and high cheekbones in a face tanned from weekends on the golf course or on fishing trips.
Her mother was…well, the only way you could describe Clare Dodge was beautiful, even at this hour of the morning, without makeup. Her silver-blond hair fell in natural waves around her slim shoulders.
“Good morning!” Coryn said as she stepped into the room.
“Darling!” Her mother greeted her happily and got up to hug her. “It’s so good to have you home.”
Coryn returned the hug and over her mother’s shoulder, smiled at her father saying, “Hi, Dad.”
“Good to have you home, honey. How was the trip?”
“Not bad at all. Just late.” She went over to kiss him. Ranger struggled to his feet from where he had been sprawled on the floor looking up at her hopefully and Coryn bent over and rubbed his ears affectionately. “The flight was overbooked and I had to take the later one.”
“I’m not surprised. This time of year,” her father said. “I’ve cooled my heels at San Francisco International myself plenty of times waiting for the fog to lift. It’s to be expected coming up the coast. I thought you might have to stay overnight at one of the airport hotels.”
“Did you see anyone you know from Rockport in the airport or on the plane?” her mother asked. “Your father usually runs into someone.”
“Not exactly. No one I knew. But I did get to have some company in the waiting room. Someone named Mark Emery. He’s a reporter for the Times. We had dinner together while waiting for our flight. He drove me home.”
“Mark Emery, the columnist?” Her father looked interested. “He writes fine, incisive articles. Pulls no punches.”
“Sit down and have some breakfast, darling,” her mother urged. “What would you like? Waffles? Muffins? Bacon and eggs.”
“Just coffee for now. Thanks, Mom.”
“That’s no breakfast for a growing girl,” her father teased. It was a family joke. He’d made the same comment for years at breakfast. “Better eat something. You’re too thin.”
“Didn’t someone say you can’t be too thin or too rich?” Coryn slid into the built-in cushioned seat of the breakfast nook.
“I don’t know about the too thin but maybe I agree about the too rich.” Her father pretended to scowl.
Her mother set down a cup of coffee in front of Coryn. “There’s so much to talk about. You never write and when you phone, well, you always seem in a hurry. Tell us all about everything.”
“That’s a tall order. Can it wait until I get my daily dose of caffeine?” Coryn smiled. Taking a sip, she regarded her mother affectionately, noticing that she seemed a little pale. Still, no one would ever guess her to be fifty-three.
Her mother sat down opposite her and reached over to pat her arm. “I’m so glad you’re here. There is so much I want us to do. We’ll have to go Christmas shopping, of course, and I’d like to do something special for you while you’re here. Wouldn’t you like to have a little get-together with some of your old friends? Lora and Cindy both want to see you and—”
“Mom, I’m going to be here only a few days. There won’t be much time.”
“Clare,” her father’s voice cut into the conversation. “Are you planning to cook something? All the burners on the stove are on high.”
“Are they?” Sounding startled, her mother jumped up. “Oh, dear, I didn’t realize—” She looked flustered and went over to the stove, snapped the buttons off. Her face was flushed, she darted a quick anxious look at her husband. “I’m sorry—”
“It’s okay, dear. You probably were just excited at Coryn’s being here.” Although her father spoke quietly, obviously checking his irritation, his words had seemed like a reprimand. “Just be careful, won’t you? The other night when I couldn’t sleep, I came down to make some cocoa and I found the burners had been left on.”
“Oh, my, I didn’t know. How could I have done that?”
Coryn’s father put his arm around her mother’s shoulders. “It’s okay, dear, it won’t happen again, I’m sure, with Coryn here to check up on you.” His attempt at humor didn’t quite come off.
Coryn put her cup down slowly. What was going on here? There was a disturbing friction between her parents. A definite undercurrent.
“Well, ladies, I better be on my way.” Neil reached for his raincoat, which was hanging on the peg by the back door that led into the garage. “I have some bids to go over. You two have a good day catching up. See you later.”
“What time will you be home for dinner, Neil?”
He halted, as if considering. “What say we go out to dinner tonight? Celebrate Coryn’s homecoming? That way you won’t have to worry about shopping or cooking.”
Coryn saw her mother’s smile fade. Clare was a gourmet cook. At other times Coryn had come home she had taken delight in preparing a special dinner with all her daughter’s favorite dishes. It was almost a tradition. Had her father forgotten that? Or was there some hidden meaning in her father’s words?
“Of course, dear,” Clare replied. “That will be fine.”
Neil left, and her mother came back to the table, a bewildered frown creasing her smooth forehead. It was quickly replaced by a bright smile as she said, “That will be fun, the three of us going out. Won’t it? Remember we used to do that Friday nights when you were little. Meet Daddy downtown for dinner? An adventure.” She glanced at Coryn fondly. “We’ve missed you so much.”
An anxiousness came into her mother’s eyes. She seemed about to say something else then changed her mind. “Now, what shall we do today?”