CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

Phillipa was in the living room when Diana walked in. “You are back early, too early for you to have spent anytime in Flower Hill.”

“I didn’t.” Diana sighed and sat down across from her. “There was this huge hole in the road, or should I say a crater. The road was literally split in two. We couldn’t get past it.”

Phillipa laughed. “Your grandmother must have prayed hard for that one.”

“From her mouth to God’s ears,” Diana sighed dejectedly.

“I know you wanted to go today,” Phillipa said cheerfully, “but tomorrow is as good a day as any.”

“I promised to help you learn how to use the computer tomorrow, remember?”

“Oh, yes,” Phillipa grimaced, “but surely you would rather go to Flower Hill.”

“Don’t let her wheedle herself out of it,” Floyd said, coming out of the kitchen with a tray of macaroons covered with a plastic wrap. “I am tired of defending myself whenever I use my machine.”

“Where are you going with that?” Phillipa demanded.

Floyd placed the tray on the center table and grinned. “I promised Mrs. Cassidy a sample of my version of the coconut rum macaroon.”

Phillipa snorted. “She gets him to cater for her by using flattery: ‘Ooh, Floyd, I have never tasted key lime pie like this before. Ooh Floyd, I have never tasted bread and butter like this before. Ooh, Floyd, I have never tasted water quite like this before.’”

Floyd laughed and sat down in the settee. “Your impersonation of her voice leaves much to be desired. Besides, she is going to be family, soon. You have to be nice.”

Phillipa glanced at Diana. “You did have a good time with them the other night, didn’t you?”

Diana nodded miserably. For a minute or two she had been distracted by her aunt’s and Floyd’s repartee.

“Something is wrong,” Floyd said in a sing-song voice.

Phillipa sat up straighter and moved her papers out of the way. They both stared at Diana with concern in their eyes, and she could feel the tears coming. If she spoke now she would break down crying. She clutched one of the cushions from the settee and muttered, “I think Robert is my brother.”

Floyd laughed and after a second Phillipa joined in.

Diana looked at them solemnly. “I’m serious.”

They both quieted down, though Floyd was wiping his eyes and his shoulders were shaking intermittently.

“Diana, that's the funniest thing I've heard all day,” Phillipa said, moving closer to her and patting her hand. “First of all, you are of different races. Secondly, the first reason should be sufficient.”

“It's not as far-fetched as you might think, Aunt P. The first time I met him there was this insane pull toward him—a bond. I could feel it and he could feel it too.”

“That’s called lust at first sight,” Floyd said, still grinning. “I've had it more than a few times.”

Diana glowered at him. “I have never felt that way before, and besides, there is the glaring fact that he was adopted. He is about the same age that Flynn should be,” she said tearfully. “And, Aunt P, Flynn looked white when we were little. He had these huge hazel eyes and brownish hair, just like Robert’s.”

“Circumstantial,” Floyd declared.

“He paints pictures of Flower Hill, pictures of where we lived, and he also painted a picture of Tara as a little girl.”

“Hmmph,” Floyd grunted.

“Oh my,” Phillipa said, sitting up straighter.

“You see what I am talking about,” Diana said, standing up and pacing. “The detective Robert hired for me could not find Flynn. He just disappeared off the face of the earth at about the same time that Robert’s adoption began.”

She put her fist in her mouth. “I am doomed,” she gargled out, “doomed.”

“What did she say?” Phillipa asked, concerned.

“She said she is doomed,” Floyd reported.

“Well…well,” Phillipa said, “this does look bad, but I'm sure your grandmother can shed some light on this for you.”

“No!” Diana squealed. “Hell no, not grandmother nor father! I can’t bear it, especially since they know that I spent the night with Robert that time.”

“But, Dee,” Phillipa said earnestly, “your grandmother was around at that time; she could help clear up some things.”

“You don’t understand,” Diana said pleadingly. “They warned me about coming to Jamaica and stirring up this whole thing. I ignored them and now I'm in a pickle, a huge pickle—I am in love with my own brother. That will confirm that they were right. I don’t like it when they are right. I can’t live with them when they are right.”

“Well,” Floyd said slowly, “I guess this means no more nookie with your brother.”

Diana winced.

Phillipa hissed at Floyd. “You are so insensitive.”

“I think you are panicking for nothing,” Floyd said to Diana, standing up.

“I don’t have brotherly feelings for him,” Diana replied in anguish. “I really don’t.”

“I would think not,” Floyd snorted. “The two of you could light a fire with your hot looks and secret smiles. I gotta go,” he said, hurriedly grabbing the tray of macaroons. Diana and Phillipa glared at him murderously.

“I am going to my room,” Diana said as Floyd left the house. Phillipa looked at her contemplatively and nodded.