Chapter 30
Later that fall
Sake and Bill, their hands full, breezed past each other at the screen door. Bill was bringing in Papa’s gift of a bottle of wine and Jeanne’s bouquet of the last sunflowers of the season, and Sake was taking another tray of warm brioche and strawberry jam out to the backyard.
“Nice buns,” said Bill, holding the door open with his back, eyes aimed somewhat south of Sake’s tray. “I’ll be right behind you with the drinks.”
She flushed with pleasure at his compliment and her stress—the good kind of stress that came from having your very first party at your very first house turn out to be a raging success.
Sake’s sisters and their men had come and gone at the beginning of the afternoon and Bill’s parents were just leaving as Papa and Jeanne arrived. Now Bill and Sake had given the last house tour of the day—all except for the one upstairs bedroom.
Sake should have been exhausted, but she was giddy.
“See that woman with the short blond hair in the red sweater? Her name’s Carly and we’re the same age! And she’s a food blogger and she just moved three doors down from here last month! We’re practically twins! Wouldn’t that be cool if you hit it off with her husband?”
“I met another golfer. Score. Maybe I’ll get a match in yet this year.”
“And the other one, over by the hydrangea bush—oh, I forget her name—the redhead? We saw each other walking our dogs the other morning but we were both too shy to introduce ourselves. We’ll probably be seeing each other every day!”
“Hey, do we have any vases?” asked Bill from over at the sink, looking lost with his armful of flowers.
“You poor man. Just use a pitcher. You can run upstairs and check on”—she glanced furtively out toward where Papa and Jeanne waited beneath the big elm—“you know.”
“I’ve got it covered. Remember the code word?”
“Shhh! When you say golf.”
Sake wove through the yard full of smiling faces, hands plucking brioche off her tray as she went.
“Word of your baking skills is spreading,” Jeanne told Sake. “I’d better sample this while there’s still some left.”
“I got the recipe at CIA,” Sake said, the reference to her college popping out of her mouth before she knew it. She’d managed to get into the fall semester by the skin of her teeth.
Papa smiled an I-told-you-so smile. “School is going well?”
She rolled her eyes. “You were right. Is that what you’ve been waiting to hear? Best. Idea. Ever.” She grinned sheepishly.
Papa took a tiny pink box out of his pants pocket and deposited it in her palm. “Do you know? You have made me very happy,” he said, enclosing her hand in both of his for a moment.
“What is this?”
He kissed both her cheeks. “Something for you to open later. To replace what was rightfully yours.”
Her earrings.
“It’s important that my daughters know they are all loved equally.”
Bill appeared, carrying the drinks tray. He set it on the picnic table, then handed Papa and Jeanne their wineglasses and Sake her steaming mug of tea.
Papa raised his glass to Bill. “I understand congratulations are due to you. You sold Russ Cross’s strip center to Cornerstone Properties.”
“Yes, sir. Thanks to Sake, here.” Bill tossed an arm around Sake’s shoulder.
“All I did was mention how hard you work and that you’d had a bad break,” said Sake. “Who knew Walter was the owner of Cornerstone?”
“And, described the property to a T, even down to the location,” added Bill. “Now he has me looking for other, similar properties for him. I’m going to be so busy, I’ll have this mortgage paid off in no time.”
“Well,” Papa said, “cheers to both of you.”
Sake clinked her mug along with the others, then held it in both hands to ward off the autumn chill.
Looking up through crispy gold and orange leaves to the sapphire northern California sky, Jeanne said, “The colors of these leaves are stunning.”
“Bill’s actually looking forward to breaking in his new rake.”
“The leg, she doesn’t trouble you?” asked Papa.
“It’s good as new. But between being laid up over the summer and now having a yard to take care of, who knows when I’ll ever play golf again.”
Sake lit up. “Hold on. I got something to show you.”
Moments later, she returned holding a wriggling, white ball of fur.
“What do you have there?” asked Papa. He set down his glass and came toward her.
Carefully, Sake transferred the squirming puppy to Papa’s arms.
“Ha. Well, well,” he said, scratching the dog on the head. “Look at this. What is his name?”
“He doesn’t have one yet,” said Sake.
“But where did he come from?”
“Taylor was lost for a couple of weeks in the middle of the summer. Must’ve had a thing with some hot dog.”
“More like a fling with a Vienna sausage. There is only one?”
“She probably was really stressed, not getting enough to eat, sleeping wherever she could find a quiet spot. She may have miscarried others, or maybe this one was all there ever was.”
“But—” Jeanne looked around warily. “His mother? She’s not—”
“She’s fine. I know how you feel about dogs, Jeanne. Taylor’s up in the extra bedroom.”
“Sake took Taylor to the vet as soon as she came home,” said Bill. “The only thing we can figure is if she had just been impregnated, the vet wouldn’t have been able to feel the puppy—or puppies—in there.”
Though she remained on the fringe, Jeanne seemed to be growing more and more intrigued with the bundle Papa cuddled against his jacket.
Suddenly the puppy surprised Papa with an unexpected flip, nearly leaping out of his arms.
“Oh!” Jeanne lunged forward, hands reaching out to break his fall. “Attention, Xavier! You almost dropped him!”
Papa chuckled calmly. “Our little friend here is a beau cabot. A shameless actor who likes the attention. Honey, maybe you should show me the right way to hold him.”
Honey?
“No, I—”
Papa gently pressed the pup to Jeanne’s breast, leaving her no choice. The pup immediately snuggled up under her chin.
“You see?” Papa said. “Un beau cabot if ever there was one.”
Jeanne turned away to hide her smile and walk slowly across the yellow grass to the other edge of the yard where she couldn’t be overheard whispering into the puppy’s ear. But try hiding a cute baby animal. She was stopped at least twice by other partiers, oohing and ahhing over him.
Behind her back, Bill and Sake grinned conspiratorially.
Finally Jeanne circled back, one hand cupping the puppy’s bottom and the other protecting his body like a shield.
Papa said, “It looks like you have made a new friend.”
“Cabot is not like other dogs. What will you do with him?” she asked Sake.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sake exclaimed, waving her hands in protest. Her idea was working even better than she’d hoped. “I can’t take—‘Cabot’—away from his mother. Bill and I are keeping both of them. But, hey, thanks for giving him a name. You can visit whenever you want. Do you want me to take him now?”
But Cabot’s eyes had drifted shut.
“Shhh! Not now!” Jeanne said softly. “He’s just gotten warm and comfortable.” She turned to do another circuit of the garden perimeter.
“Well played.” Papa nodded with a twinkle, after she was gone. “Well played.”
“Dude. Got any more of this Lite?”
Sake turned to see her new acquaintance, Carly, clinging to the arm of a guy wearing a wrinkled patchwork blazer and loafers with no socks. The guy held his can upside down to indicate to Bill it was empty.
Sake, barely able to contain her grin, locked eyes with Bill.
He lit up. “Sure do! BRB.”
***
Bill regarded the horde trampling his grass as he hefted yet another case of brewskis out to the big tin ice bucket on the patio. The whole lawn was going to need to be aerated, and as soon as that job was done, it would probably be time to rake the leaves. Finding time for that golf match was looking more and more improbable.
All the way back at the end of the yard, under the elm tree, Sake caught his eye. There, cupping her mug of tea, bootie’d feet planted in the garden, she positively bloomed.
Hole in one, Bill Diamond. Hole. In. One.