Woman in Blue Page 17

  “Sounds like something Tee would do,” he said of his eldest sister, Theresa, who was famously accident-prone.

  “Well, you know what they say: The apple never falls far from the tree.”

  If that was true, Ollie wondered which tree he’d fallen from. Physically he was a mixture of both his parents, but in every other respect he might have been an alien dropped into this occasionally riotous but otherwise perfectly normal family. For one thing, he was the first in a long line of Oliveira men who preferred dry land to being out at sea. Even though his three elder brothers—a plumber, police officer, and sales rep, respectively—hadn’t gone into the family business, they loved to fish in their time off. His sisters, too—Caty had once landed a thirty-pound snapper off their dad’s boat, and Theresa, who lived in Idaho with her husband and kids, had taken up fly-fishing. Ollie was the only one in the family who disliked everything to do with fish except when it came to eating it.

  Regardless, each weekday morning he was up before dawn to help unload the day’s catch before making the rounds in the family van to the wholesale accounts. By the time he arrived at the book café, showered and dressed in clean clothes, he’d already put in half a day’s work.

  “She must be pretty special,” observed his mom as she followed his movements about the kitchen. She had a knowing look on her face, even though he’d told her nothing about Kerrie Ann other than he enjoyed working with her. Either there was some truth in Freddie’s claim, while he and his siblings were growing up, that she knew what they were up to even when she wasn’t there to see it, or she had gotten an earful from Lindsay.

  “Yeah, well, I told Linds I’d bring dessert. And since it’s a birthday party and all …” He did his best to downplay it. All his mom knew was that Lindsay was having a little birthday gathering at her house on Sunday, to which he’d been invited. On the stove, the kettle began to hiss. He switched off the burner and poured boiling water into the teapot.

  “I’m sure it’ll make quite an impression.” A simple remark, but worlds were contained therein.

  “Hey, it’s the big three-oh. Gotta go all out for that, right?” Ollie spoke blithely despite the ripple of unease in his belly as he fetched a mug from the cupboard over the sink.

  His mom smiled and nodded. “Thirty? Is that all? I would’ve guessed older.”

  Uh-oh, here we go, he thought.

  Freddie sighed. “Well, she seems like a nice enough girl.” It had been the universal statement through the years about any of his or his brother’s girlfriends who, for whatever reason, hadn’t met with her approval.

  Ollie poured the tea, keeping a close watch on his mom as he set the steaming mug on the table in front of her. Her expression was neutral, but the grooves on either side of her wide mouth had deepened. She was probably wondering just how serious he was about this woman for whom he was baking a cake on a Saturday night when other men his age were out having fun.

  “She is nice,” he replied somewhat defensively. “Actually, we have a lot in common.”

  “Is that so?” A subtle lift of the brow, nothing more.

  Recklessly he plowed on, “Yeah, she’s cool. She gets me, you know?”

  “Really? I wouldn’t have thought so.”

  An edge crept into Ollie’s voice. “How do you know? You only met her the one time.” A few weeks ago when Freddie had stopped in at the store to pick up a book she’d ordered.

  Freddie replied in the same mild tone, “I only meant that you come from such different backgrounds.”

  “Well, she can’t help how she was brought up, can she?” He set the sugar bowl down on the table, hard enough to rattle the lid.

  “No, I don’t suppose she can.” Freddie appeared to consider this as she helped herself to a spoonful of sugar, slowly stirring it into her tea. “But, son, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that most people can’t escape their upbringing. I’m not saying she doesn’t have her good qualities, but from what Lindsay tells me, she’s seen more than her fair share of trouble.”

  Ollie felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten. Damn Lindsay. Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut? “That’s all behind her,” he said in a gruff, clipped voice.

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked, lifting the steaming mug to her lips.

  He searched for the words to make her understand. It was important that he get this right. “Have you forgotten what I was like in high school? You and Dad didn’t write me off. You gave me a chance to redeem myself. Shouldn’t Kerrie Ann be given that same chance?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” Freddie’s pale blue eyes locked with his over the rim of her mug. “But you were sixteen, and all you needed was a kick in the behind to set you straight. It’s not as simple as that for some. There are people who struggle all their lives and never get it right.”

  His mother’s words nagged at him long after she’d finished her tea and headed to bed.

  “Oh, Ollie, it’s magnificent!” declared Lindsay the following evening when she pried open the cake box to reveal what Ollie believed to be his finest creation yet: four layers filled with orange-flavored whipped cream and glazed with bittersweet chocolate sprinkled with chopped nuts. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

  “You sure there ain’t a naked lady in there waiting to pop out?” Miss Honi leaned in for a closer look.

  “Do we have to wait until after supper to have a piece?” joked Grant, who earned a playful slap on the wrist from Lindsay when he extended a finger to sample the chocolate glaze.

  The only one who was speechless was the birthday girl herself. Kerrie Ann stared at the torte as if she’d never seen anything like it, while Ollie did his best not to stare at her. She’d never looked more beautiful. She was wearing black velveteen jeans and a bell-sleeved, midnight-blue top made of some semitransparent fabric shot through with gold threads that floated around her with each movement and through which he could see just the barest hint of a black brassiere. On each arm was a stack of colored bracelets set with tiny mirrored discs that jingled and flashed. He noticed her makeup was more toned-down than usual, allowing her prettiness to shine through, and that the pink streaks in her hair had faded to reveal more of its natural color—a pale strawberry blond. She smelled of some citrusy scent.

  He adopted a nonchalant pose, but his mind and heart were racing. Does she think it’s too much? Am I coming on too strong? Should I have gotten her a nice card and a bottle of cologne instead?

  “I’ve never had anyone make me a birthday cake before,” she said at last. Gone was the tough-girl expression she often wore. She looked soft and vulnerable, like that day he’d taken her to visit her little girl. In that moment he caught a glimpse of the little girl she herself had once been, a sad and lonely one for whom birthdays had probably been celebrated with a minimum of fuss. She turned to Ollie. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

  He felt suddenly self-conscious. “Hey, it’s not every day a girl turns thirty. I think that calls for more than some lame card, don’t you?” he said in an attempt to make light of it.

  Kerrie Ann rolled her eyes, as if thirty was so old. “Don’t remind me.”

  They exchanged a look, which wasn’t lost on Lindsay from the sharp glance she shot them. He felt a flash of resentment. He’d always thought of Lindsay as a big sister, and clearly it was in more ways than one. His own sisters, Theresa and Caty, had seldom missed an opportunity to put an oar in when it came to his love life.

  They all retired to the living room, where they sipped drinks and nibbled on the crackers and cheese that had been set out. When dinner was ready, Lindsay summoned everyone to the table, apologizing in advance, “I can’t promise it’ll be the best meal you’ve ever eaten. I’m not as good a cook as my sister”—she gestured toward Kerrie Ann, who ducked her head to deflect the compliment—“but nothing got burned, and it appears edible, at least.”

  Grant remarked loyally, “I’m sure it’s deli
cious.”

  “Who cares, as long as it’s hot and there’s plenty of it? I’m hungry enough to polish off that whole hog,” said Miss Honi, gesturing toward the baked ham glistening at the center of the table. “It’s this damned diet I’m on,” she grumbled to no one in particular as she settled into her seat at the head of the table. “Ain’t hardly enough to feed a Chihuahua.”

  Kerrie Ann whispered to Ollie, “She joined Weight Watchers.” Which prompted him to remark chivalrously, “Aw, come on, Miss Honi. You don’t need to lose weight. Guys like ladies with curves.”

  It was all the encouragement she needed. “In that case, I’ll have two helpings of everything and a nice big piece of that cake to top it off. I can always go back to dieting tomorrow.”

  “Or not,” Kerrie Ann chimed in. “I agree with Ollie. You look just fine, Miss Honi.”

  “Apparently you’re the only one who thinks so.” Miss Honi shot Lindsay a mutinous look.

  “I think you look just fine, too,” Lindsay defended herself. “I’m just concerned about your health is all. Remember what the doctor said. If you don’t do something about that high blood pressure of yours, he’ll have to put you on medication.”

  Miss Honi’s scowl gave way to a contrite look. “I know, sugar. And I promise to be good. Starting tomorrow. Tonight, though, I’m gonna enjoy every bite of this feast you cooked.”

  While everyone else took their seats, Lindsay headed back into the kitchen to fetch the rolls warming in the oven. Grant followed her and carried out the remaining platters, which were passed around. It was obvious that Lindsay had gone to a lot of trouble. The food was as tasty as it was plentiful. In addition to the baked ham, there were mashed potatoes, candied baby carrots, and steamed brussels sprouts.

  “I have to say, Linds, this meal rocks. You really hit it out of the park,” Ollie commented. He turned to Kerrie Ann. “You see? We had to wait until you came for her to show her stuff.”

  Kerrie Ann smiled at her sister. “It was nice of you to go to all this trouble.”

  “It was no trouble at all,” Lindsay demurred. “We haven’t celebrated a birthday together since you were little. That alone makes it a special occasion.” Her face glowed in the candlelight.

  Miss Honi reminisced to Kerrie Ann, “Every year on your birthday we’d make a little party, your sister and me. We’d boil up a mess of hot dogs, and I’d make one of them Duncan Hines cakes.” She darted Ollie an apologetic look. “Well, at least it was something.”

  “Where was our mom during all this?” Kerrie Ann asked.

  “Who knows? Probably at work.” Lindsay spoke lightly, as if to deflect what, for her, was clearly an uncomfortable subject. Ollie had noticed she didn’t like talking about her childhood.

  “Not out doing drugs when she should’ve been looking after her kids?”

  Kerrie Ann’s remark was greeted by silence. Ollie sensed the barb had been aimed more at herself than at their mother, but he saw the muscles in Lindsay’s jaw clench.

  “There was some of that, too, I’m sure,” she said. “Would anyone like more potatoes?” She offered up the bowl of mashed potatoes with a bright smile pinned in place.

  Grant came to the rescue. “I wouldn’t say no to another helping,” he said heartily as he reached for the bowl. “Don’t know when I’ve had tastier mashed potatoes. What’s the secret?”

  “Buttermilk,” answered Ollie and Lindsay in unison.

  The tension broke, and everyone laughed.

  When supper was over and the dishes cleared away, the torte was carried out, ablaze with candles. They all sang “Happy Birthday,” Kerrie Ann pretending to be embarrassed while looking secretly pleased. Even the dog and cats gathered round, Fagin and Estella winding in and out between legs while Chester barked excitedly at all the commotion. Then the torte was served and everyone fell silent except for the moans of ecstasy that greeted each bite. Even Ollie was impressed. He just hoped he’d hit the intended mark with Kerrie Ann.

  After the presents were opened—a jungle-print scarf from Miss Honi, perfume from Grant, and a pretty if somewhat plain sweater from Lindsay-Lindsay suggested a game of Monopoly. Ollie was on the verge of sinking into a chair at the card table in the living room when he surprised himself by announcing, “Actually, after all that food I could use some fresh air.” He turned to Kerrie Ann. “What do you say? Are you up for a walk?”

  “Sure, why not?” she said.

  He took note of the anxious look Lindsay darted them but decided to ignore it. Who cared if she had a problem with it?

  No sooner had they stepped outside than he turned to Kerrie Ann. “Is it just me, or did you notice a chill just now?” His tone made it clear he wasn’t referring to the temperature.

  Kerrie Ann shrugged, pausing to light a cigarette. She’d thrown on a blue Patagonia parka belonging to Lindsay, with the leopard-print scarf Miss Honi had given her wrapped jauntily around her neck. She took a deep drag and blew out a jet of smoke, saying, “What did you expect? I’m the woman with the checkered past and you’re the wide-eyed innocent. That’s how my sister sees it, anyway.” She sounded more resigned than angry.

  “I’m not as innocent as you think,” replied Ollie defensively as they set off along the path to the cliffs.

  “I didn’t say it was what I thought. By the way, that was an awesome cake.”

  “It was a torte, actually.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Cakes are made with flour and a torte with ground nuts and only a little bit of flour.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker, wishing he’d thought to wear a warmer coat. It got cold out here at night, much colder than inland, with the wind blowing in off the ocean. “It’s extra work, but I wanted to do something really nice for your birthday.”

  “It was nice.” She added in a softer voice, “But let’s leave it at that, okay?”

  He caught her meaning and replied testily, “You mean because of Lindsay?”

  “Yes and no. It’s not that I feel like I have to answer to her. But she’s right, Ollie. I’m no good for you. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and I’m still picking up what’s left of mine.” She shook her head. “It would never work. I’d only drag you down.”

  “Don’t I get a say in this?” Ollie was tired of others deciding what was best for him—his mother, Lindsay, and now Kerrie Ann.

  Kerrie Ann didn’t comment. She merely sighed and took another drag off her cigarette, saying, “This is my last one, I swear. I always said if I was still smoking by the time I hit thirty, I’d quit. So no more excuses, right?” She stubbed out the cigarette on the ground, then retrieved the butt and tucked it into her pocket.

  They walked in silence for a little while longer, the only sounds the rattle of tall weeds at their feet and the subwoofer thumping of the surf. Out on the ocean, a glittering band of moonlight stretched to the horizon. For some reason, it made him think of the Led Zeppelin tune “Stairway to Heaven.”

  Which was precisely where he was not going with Kerrie Ann.

  Ollie was normally a sunny person, slow to anger and quick to forgive. Even as a child, he’d rarely thrown temper tantrums and almost never sulked. But a coal of resentment glowed inside him now. He was sure she wouldn’t be saying these things if it weren’t for her sister. On top of that, he had his mother and her dire predictions. To hell with them, he thought.

  Before he knew what he was doing, he had Kerrie Ann by the shoulders and was pulling her around to face him. “Listen, I’m sick and tired of everyone telling me what to do. I’m a grown man, and I don’t need permission from your sister, even if she is my boss. Also, for the record, I don’t think you’re a bad influence. As a matter of fact, I happen to think you’re pretty damn awesome.”

  “You do, huh?” Kerrie Ann stared back at him with a flat, unreadable gaze.

  “Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?” Ollie was almost shouting, he was so worked up.

  T
he hint of a smile. “You’re not just saying that because it’s my birthday?”

  In reply, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. And this time Kerrie Ann didn’t just allow it; she responded in kind, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him even closer, opening her mouth to his. A mouth so soft and warm and willing it was all he could do to remain upright, his knees were wobbling so. She tasted faintly of cigarette smoke, which for some reason only excited him further. And she yielded in his arms just as she had in his fantasies.

  If they’d been behind a locked door, there was no doubt in his mind what would have happened next. Instead he merely held on to her, as if the next strong gust would otherwise have sent them sailing over the cliff. They stood that way for a long while, Ollie with a hand cupped protectively about her head, Kerrie Ann with her face buried against his shoulder and her hair, whipped by the wind, flying up around his face.

  “Happy birthday,” he whispered in her ear.

  Kerrie Ann was confused as she let herself back into the house after seeing Ollie off. What was happening? she wondered. In the beginning, Ollie had merely been someone fun to hang out with; she’d known he had a crush on her but never imagined it would go beyond that. All that had changed with their first kiss. Since then she’d found herself thinking about him way more than she should have, and in ways that weren’t exactly G-rated. She’d managed to disguise it with a friendly aloofness at work, but tonight, when he’d kissed her again, there had been no holding back. She’d found herself wanting more. Ollie might not be a man of the world, but he wasn’t a little boy, either. There had been nothing tentative about the way he’d taken her in his arms or the kisses that had gone through her like hot water through brittle ice. He might not be as experienced as she, but he instinctively knew what a woman wanted and just how to deliver it.