Foolish Notions Page 13

  “No, that won’t be necessary.” Marie searched the menu for several seconds before she looked up. “I have a wonderful idea. Why don’t you both go pick something up?”

  James shrugged his shoulders, discarding her suggestion. “Whatever you want we can have them deliver. There’s no need to go out if we don’t have to,” he said as he pulled folders from a narrow compartment then arranged them on the table.

  Marie disappeared into the foyer and then returned to the living room holding Samantha’s sweater, which she’d taken off the hall tree. “Here, sweetie.” She held it out until Samantha walked over. “Put this on. It’s a little on the cool side this evening.”

  “Mom, I have work to finish.” James motioned to the open briefcase on the table.

  “Nonsense. You just walked through the door. Put that briefcase away and start thinking about something else other than work,” she snapped.

  James looked up suddenly.

  “Neither one of you”—Marie looked at each of them—“has been out in weeks.” She did nothing to soften her tone; if anything she made it a little more intense.

  “I go out every day,” James countered. She was looking at him like he was twelve. And why was she reprimanding him in that harsh motherly tone of hers? He had done nothing to warrant it.

  Marie tossed her hand in Samantha’s direction. “What about Samantha? Do you realize she has only left the house to take me to the hospital and to get food?”

  “I’ve gone to yoga class.”

  Marie moved over to her son and looked down at him with stern, narrow eyes. “Do you hear that? There is more to life than chemotherapy treatments and yoga.”

  James sat in stunned silence as he gaped at his mom. It wasn’t until she raised a displeased brow that he realized it was his turn to plead his case. “Mom.” Oh God, he even sounded like he was twelve. He cleared his throat. “Samantha knows that she can leave—”

  Marie brought her hand to her head. “I’m very tired.”

  “What?” James dropped the pen and papers he was holding and stared at her.

  “I’m so tired. And I haven’t had the house to myself in awhile. I could use a little time alone.” She waved her hands in front of her. “It’s always busy here. Something is always going on. I’ve lived five years alone without your dad and to be quite honest with you, I like my solitude. I’ve grown used to it.”

  “I didn’t know you wanted to be alone,” James said, rising from the couch. He assumed he had thought of his mom’s every need. He didn’t like the idea that he had overlooked something, especially something as simple as peace and quiet.

  “I like having you both here, but I could use some quiet time.” She allowed her shoulders to droop.

  “If there’s something you need, please tell me,” James said.

  “I just did. A little quiet time will do me good.” She put her arm around her son’s waist and ushered him and Samantha to the door. “Go out and get some fresh air. And have a nice dinner.” She took the car keys from the table in the foyer and pushed them into James’s hand.

  “What about you?” James asked as he took the keys.

  “To tell you the truth I’m not really hungry.”

  It was James’s turn to inflict the narrow eyes on her. “You were up for take-out just a minute ago.”

  She smiled weakly when she sensed James’s perceptiveness. “I think I’ll just grab a little something in the fridge.” She eyed them both. “I promise.”

  “If you’re sure,” Samantha said, not knowing what else to say. Marie was making it hard to put up an argument. What was her rebuttal going to be? “No, Marie, you don’t need any private time of your own”?

  “Of course I’m sure. Now, please go so I can soak in a long, hot bath.” She winked. “I might even walk through the house naked.”

  James shook his head, and then kissed her cheek. “Lock the door when we leave and call my cell phone if you need anything.”

  “All right. Have a wonderful evening.” Marie leaned against the closed door with a smile.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Do you really want Chinese?” James asked as he opened the car door for Samantha. He couldn’t believe that he had just been thrown out of his own house, by him mom no less, and he had a nagging suspicion that it wasn’t entirely because she wanted to be alone. That woman was relentless.

  She shook her head as she slid into the soft leather seat. “No, not really.”

  “Me neither. If we’re going to be coerced to go out together so my mom can”—using his finger, he made air quotes—“ ‘have some alone time,’ we might as well go somewhere we’ll enjoy.”

  She reached for the seatbelt and looked up at him as he held the door open. “Do you really think we’ve been smothering her?”

  “I see her twice a day. I can hardly call that smothering.”

  “Perhaps I’ve been too attentive.” Samantha said after James climbed into the car and started it.

  “No.”

  She turned to him. “Are you sure? I thought if I kept her busy it would take her mind off things. Maybe I need to pull back a little.”

  “You don’t need to pull back. She enjoys every minute with you.” He turned onto the street. “Don’t tell me you’re buying in to all this alone stuff.”

  “She sounded convincing.”

  He sighed theatrically as he muttered her name repeatedly under his breath.

  Samantha smiled. “Stop. There’s nothing wrong with being concerned.”

  “No, there isn’t. But trust me, I know my mom. So, where to?”

  “I don’t care, you pick.”

  “Okay. I have the perfect place in mind.”

  * * * * *

  James requested a table located outside. Once seated, Samantha took in her surroundings. The open seashore was only several yards away. It was too dark to see the water, but the roar that came from the unlit darkness made the ocean’s presence known. The intense tang of salt wrapped itself around them like a warm, familiar blanket.

  The small candle placed in the center of the table didn’t give off much light, but instead added a cozy feeling. The tablecloth was stark white, floor length, and danced against her legs in the soft breeze.

  “I’ve never been here before,” she said as she watched the flame of the candle flicker.

  “Neither have I. I just read a review on it. It’s supposed to be excellent.”

  “If the food is anything like the ambiance, it will be wonderful,” she said as she glanced at the huge potted palm trees that surrounded them. The long pointy leaves sounded like a dozen baby ducks shaking as they dance in the breeze.

  “I agree.”

  A waiter appeared out of the dimly lit area by the door and moved to James’s side. After a warm greeting, he asked, “What may I get for you and the lady?”

  James ordered a bottle of white wine and some appetizers. He gave a concise nod as the waiter gave a short bow and slipped away into the darkness between the two palms framing the door.

  Samantha leaned back in her chair to look up at the sky. “It’s beautiful tonight.” The moon was a hazy half crescent. The industrial clutter of civilization that stretched for miles on either side of them went unnoticed. It was as if the world started at the beach and extended outward into infinity.

  “Yes, it is.”

  The breeze pushed her hair forward, wrapping it against her face. “This is lovely.” She turned her head, allowing her hair to blow in the opposite direction. She laughed when the wind shifted and it covered her face again. She gathered the strands at the base of her neck and held them firmly as she reached for her purse.

  “Don’t.” James’s voice was like a velvet whisper in the night.

  Samantha’s hand stopped rooting around in her purse and she looked up. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Please, don’t pull it back.”

  Samantha let go of the barrette in her hand and set her purse to the side. She didn�
�t move when he reached across the table and took hold of the hand that held her hair firmly in place. The small gesture was temptation in itself.

  “It’s beautiful when it’s down.” James gently removed her hand. The breeze caught the silky strands immediately, sending them flying in all directions. He took a handful and held it.

  “Your wine and appetizers.” The waiter appeared from the darkness, carrying a tray.

  James sat back and made room for the food. He ordered for them both and when the waiter had gone he looked back to Samantha. “Why are you smiling?”

  “You remembered my favorite entrée.”

  He watched her for a moment. “I remember everything you like.”

  Samantha ran her hands over her arms and looked out into the roaring darkness.

  “Are you cold?” He stood and began to take off his coat.

  Samantha shook her head and motioned for him to sit. “No. I’m enjoying it. Besides, my sweater is in the car if I need it.” She lifted her hands into the air. “It’s refreshing and stimulating.” She enjoyed the breeze blowing over her for a moment and then finally said, “I love it.”

  “Yes, it is refreshing.” There was something in her eyes that captivated him. They came alive as she spoke in a vibrant, content voice. She swayed her arms gracefully through the cool air in a simple gesture that made him want to hold her close beside him.

  “It’s invigorating, yet relaxing at the same time.” She linked her fingers together as she stretched them over her head and smiled. “I think that’s why I love the ocean.” Her laugh was full and deep in her throat. “I know that’s a little contradicting, but when I hear the rhythm of the waves and the familiar scent of the air, all my uncertainties vanish. There’s no stress when this surrounds me.” She tucked her arms against her body as she rested them on the table. “It’s comforting. But at the same time it almost seems to recharge me.”

  He poured wine into their glasses and nodded. He knew what she meant. He always knew what she meant. She made him feel what she was experiencing and sometimes no words were even necessary. She drew him in, she always had. He envied how carefree she was. How she could let everything go and simply enjoy. That was what was missing from his life. He hadn’t simply enjoyed anything in a long time.

  “It’s like a child’s favorite blanket.” She took the glass he offered and sipped. “It’s a security that calms me almost instantly. It’s not as easy to snuggle up to but it’s always there, consistent and never-ending.” She shook her head delicately.

  “Listen to me. I’m sorry for carrying on.”

  “Don’t apologize.” He loved to hear her speak of things that meant something to her. It was one of her qualities that he found endearing. She was passionate about things that touched her and she never seemed to mind voicing them. She used to be passionate about him, too. When he heard her speak to others about him it left him speechless. He would savor every word she used because each was so descriptive and heartfelt. It never ceased to amaze him how much respect, admiration, and love she held for him. Was it lost forever?

  He reached for his glass. “A toast, to my mom. May she beat her cancer.”

  Samantha raised her glass and tapped his lightly. “To Marie.” She took a sip and said, “And she will beat it.”

  “I know.”

  She took another sip and set her glass back down. “She had blood work done today. Her counts are lower but still in the normal range.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “She goes in for her next round in two days, providing her cell count remains good.”

  “It’ll be a shame to see all the vigor, she so obviously had today, gone.” He offered a plate with square flaky pastries on it.

  She nodded in agreement. “It’ll be back.” She took a taste of the golden pastry. She savored it for several seconds before she spoke. “This is heaven. You have to try this.” Without thinking she reached across the table and gave him a bite of hers. “It tastes like spinach and—”

  His lips brushed her fingers as he finished her sentence.

  “Feta cheese.”

  “That’s it.” She popped the rest of the appetizer in her mouth—licking every last flake from her fingers. “I think this is going to become my new favorite restaurant.”

  James reached across the table and with his thumb brushed away the crumbs on her lips. “Mine, too.” He allowed his thumb to linger a little longer than it should have. It felt good to be with her like this. He felt like they were the only two people in the world. Nothing existed but them and the elegant restaurant. Bad memories and deadly diseases were worlds away. Right now that’s what he needed. That’s what they both needed.

  When the waiter arrived to serve the main course, Samantha’s eyes grew double in size as she looked at the plate he set in front of her. “I’ll never be able to eat all of this.” She laughed at the huge portion.

  James eyed his plate. “I don’t think I’ll have a problem with mine. After eating soup and salad for weeks on end, I’m ready for this.”

  “I’m not going to feel too sorry for you.” She disregarded his pout. “Ginger said she made several casseroles a week. And countless loaves of bread.”

  The aroma had James’s mouth watering before he’d even taken a bite. He reached for his knife. “True. Mom and I would swarm around it like vultures.” He chewed the first bite slowly, enjoying the flavor.

  She laughed again as she drove her fork into the huge pile of pasta covered in a spicy red sauce. “I might be going to yoga class twice this week.”

  Paul’s face popped into James’s mind. The man was a nuisance. He pushed the image aside. “I know it’s not part of your job, but I can’t tell you what a relief it’s been having you fix the meals.” He took another bite, chewed, and then swallowed. “I know Mom hasn’t been eating much over the last few months but I was struggling just to remember to go shopping once a week, much less trying to remember that she eat.”

  “You know I don’t mind. I enjoy cooking.”

  James took a long sip of wine. “I appreciate it.”

  Samantha smiled up at him. Her eyes darted to his breast pocket when she heard the low ring of the cell phone. “Is it Marie?”

  James just shook his head in irritation as he glanced at the number. “Taylor.” He listened for a few seconds. “Couldn’t this have waited until morning?” There was another pause. “I’m listening . . .”

  Samantha leaned in and whispered. “It’s fine. Take the call.”

  The authority and control in his voice as he spoke was that of a powerful man. Impatience with the caller caused the wrinkle across his brow to slowly etch its way into his expression. When James felt her fingers softly glide over the crease, everything inside of him loosened up. As she lowered her hand he looked up to see her mouth the word “better” and wink.

  All irritation vanished. She held a power that could make him feel good regardless of the situation. He took her hand in his, not wanting to lose the contact, and stared at her fingers linked in his as he spoke. For this brief moment his world was complete again. It didn’t matter that work was on the line. Samantha was there when he got off the phone. It wasn’t the dark solitude of his home or the endless amounts of work that would be his only place to turn. Samantha, once again would provide that much-needed balance for him. “As long as we disclosed it in the contract, we’ll be fine.” He paused. “Have a copy faxed to me by morning and I’ll go over it.” There was another moment of silence. “Relax, this isn’t going to be a problem.”

  “Everything okay?”

  James returned the phone to his pocket. “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He watched her for a moment. “Of course.” And if it wasn’t he would make it. That’s what he did. He made sure things ran smoothly. “Now, where were we?”

  She tore off a chunk of bread and dipped it in a pool of sauce. “You were thanking me profusely for my culinary skills.”

&n
bsp; “Was I, now?” He smiled. “You’re much better at creating a meal than you are a flowerpot constructed of shells.”

  She bit the bread and looked up. “It’s a lovely pot.”

  “Yes, I must look at it daily now that it adorns my mantel.” He watched her closely. “Did you put it there on purpose to torture me?”

  “I merely suggested to Marie that I thought it would look nice there. She agreed.” She dabbed her napkin against her lips.

  “That was wonderful.”

  “Dessert?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I could eat another bite. I could use a warm cup of coffee, though.”

  As James spoke with the waiter, Samantha rose and moved to the railing. They were completely alone now. The other couple that had arrived halfway through their meal left moments before. She closed her eyes and let the breeze blow her hair back and caress her face like a thousand gentle fingers. She felt James come up from behind her and drape his coat over her shoulders. She didn’t refuse it this time. It was big, it was warm, and it was him. It smelled like him, a deep, warm, exotic scent. The touch was him, ardent and protective. It felt good and familiar. It was like he was holding her, but without having the contact that she feared would drive her crazy. Feeling him watching her, she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I just like watching you.” He had always enjoyed watching her. He had liked the way she walked into a crowded room— every head would turn, but she never noticed because her eyes were always on him. Like they were now.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  He nuzzled his face in her hair and took a deep breath. “I’m thinking how nice this evening turned out.”

  She looked back into the darkness. “Yes, it has.”

  He put an arm around her. “Are you warming up?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She leaned into his embrace. The light contact caused a stir deep within her.