“Isn’t that Dani now?” Mamie said, looking out the large picture window in the front of the store. Situated on a corner, the antiques shop was granted a wide, unobstructed view of the ocean beach. “It looks as if she bought one of those kite kits and is assembling it.”
Curiosity got the better of him and John joined his mother and gazed out the window. He found Dani almost immediately, sitting on top of a sand dune. Even from this distance he could read the perplexed look about her. Her shoulders were hunched against the wind and she had the instructions clenched between her teeth. It was apparent even at that distance that Part A was not fitting into Part B.
“Assembling those kites can be complicated,” Mamie said, and eyed him. “What Dani really needs is someone with a functioning left brain.”
“Give her time, she’ll figure it out.” John had every confidence in his assistant. If she could stomp him on a chessboard, then she could assemble a kite.
“Dani’s so creative she thinks with her right brain, and when it comes to…”
“Mother, you are not suggesting I leave the store and go over and help her, are you?” The idea was ludicrous. For one thing, he didn’t want Dani thinking he was spying on her. For another, he preferred not to have the good people of Ocean Shores linking them together.
Mamie looked up at him with wide eyes. “Yes, I think you should help her.”
“I have a shop to run.”
“It’s been slow all morning. Besides, just how long will it take to assemble a silly kite? If Dani saw that you were having trouble, do you think she’d hesitate to lend you a helping hand?”
She had him there, and if the truth be known, he wanted to be with Dani, talk or no talk. “All right,” he said as if she should appreciate the sacrifice he was making. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”
“Take your time,” Mamie insisted.
John looked both ways before jogging across the street and onto the beach. He slowed his steps as he grew closer, uncertain exactly how to approach her.
John was only a few feet away when Dani groaned in abject frustration and fell backward onto the sand.
“Dani?” John decided playing innocent was the best approach. “Is something wrong?”
She opened her eyes, then sat up abruptly. “It’s supposed to be so easy. The instructions on the kite said it was simple enough for a ten-year-old to assemble. Sure, one with an engineering degree!”
John chuckled and sank onto the sand next to her. “Do you want me to take a look at it for you?”
“Please.” She bundled up the pieces and handed it to him. “I’ll have you know this isn’t one of the cheap ones, either. I paid nearly forty bucks for it.”
He was grateful she didn’t ask how he knew she was having troubles. “Where are the instructions?”
“Trust me, they’re worthless. They might as well have been written in a foreign language.”
“You don’t have them?”
“I do, sort of.” She leapt to her feet and raced over to the trash barrel, and returned a few moments later with a wadded-up piece of paper. “They won’t help.”
“Let me see.” John smoothed out the crumpled instructions as best he could, and found no fault with them.
“This is Stick A,” Dani said, identifying the narrow wooden strip. “According to what it says there, Stick A is supposed to fit into Section One. The key phrase here is supposed to. But it doesn’t work. I’ve tried it ten times and no matter what I do, it won’t slip in the way it should.” She sounded exasperated and tired as she sank to her knees next to him.
John turned Stick A around and neatly slipped it into Section One.
“How’d you do that?” Dani cried, exasperated.”
John didn’t have the heart to tell her how easy it had been. Within minutes he had the box kite, with squares in red, blue, yellow and green, completely assembled.
Dani shook her head in marvel. “I can’t believe this. You don’t know how I struggled. Thank you, John. I didn’t mean to disrupt your day.”
“Let’s see if we can get this airborne before you thank me, all right?”
She nodded eagerly.
John attached the giant roll of string and walked closer to the water’s edge. Within minutes the kite was lofting toward the sky and Dani was clapping her hands with delight. It had been months since John had spent a day on the beach. Longer than he could remember. He lived in a resort town, but rarely enjoyed the delights the ocean had to offer.
John handed Dani the controls, and stood behind her, keeping a safe distance between their bodies while she learned to manipulate the kite. John enjoyed being close to her, probably more than he should. He regretted now not kissing her when he’d had the opportunity.
Dani brought sunshine and laughter into a world that had been dull and lifeless for longer than he cared to admit. She’d made him feel again, laugh again and think. Before she had come to work for him, he used to consider the store his life. The business was all he’d ever need. But recently, when he crawled into bed at night, it wasn’t antiques that filled his thoughts, it was Dani.
“I’d better get back to the store,” he said reluctantly.
Disappointment clouded her beautiful dark eyes. “Thanks for your help,” she said and smiled at him. “I appreciate it more than you can know.”
“No problem.” He buried his hands in his pockets and walked backward a couple of steps before turning and racing across the street. He looked back only once and found Dani sitting in the sand, the brightly colored kite twirling cheerfully in the chaotic wind. His gaze lingered for several seconds before he turned and walked away.
His mother was standing just inside the doorway. John guessed she’d been watching him from the moment he’d left.
“I see you got her kite up for her.”
John nodded and walked over to his desk and sat down. He didn’t have anything particularly pressing that demanded his attention, but he felt the need to analyze what was happening between him and Dani. If anything.
“It’s been slow here,” Mamie said, following him. “One phone call,” she announced. “A wrong number. It hardly seems worth staying open when the only business is a phone call the entire morning.”
She hesitated and seemed to be waiting for something. The problem was, John didn’t know what. His mother could hint from now until the twelfth of never and it would do no good.
“Are you suggesting we close the shop down for good?” he asked.
“Not for good,” she said calmly, with a small, distinct smile. “But surely one day wouldn’t hurt.”
“One day,” John repeated, not following her drift. “Listen, Mother, if you’ve got something more pressing to do, there isn’t any reason for you to hang around here.”
“I haven’t got a thing.”
“Then what was all that business about me closing down the store?”
“Just that. You could do with a day off yourself. Do you have any appointments this afternoon?”
John checked his engagement calendar, but he knew there wasn’t anything there. “Not really.”
“That’s what I thought. It’s a beautiful day.”
“Mother, I can’t afford to close up shop every time the sun makes an appearance.”
Mamie sighed, losing patience with him. “John, for the love of heaven, would you stop and listen to me? Take the rest of the day off. I’ll stay at the shop if you want. Actually, I’ll be happy to do that.”
“Mother…”
“Enjoy life. Let your hair down. How can you walk away from Dani like that? She looks so alone.”
Involuntarily, John’s gaze returned to the beach. The idea held a certain appeal. All right, it held a lot of appeal. There was nothing he’d enjoy more than spending the day lazing away on the beach with Dani. The last time… He didn’t want to think about the last time because it had been with Patricia. Dani, however, was different.
And John knew it.
* *
*
She was lonely, Dani decided, and feeling melancholy. That was why she’d purchased the kite, looking for something to relieve the blahs.
It hadn’t. Not only had assembling the silly thing frustrated her no end, it had cost her forty of her hard-earned dollars. She could have used that money as layaway for the cradle. She wanted it, and had from the first moment she’d seen it tucked away in John’s storeroom. Why it appealed to her so strongly, she didn’t know. Heaven knew she had no earthly use for it.
The cradle.
The last thing she needed was a reminder of dreams lost. That was what the cradle would become, another trophy for her to dust that would remind her of all that she’d missed when she’d broken off her engagement. Severing the relationship with Bob was the right thing to do, but it hadn’t been easy and certainly hadn’t been painless.
She struggled not to feel sorry for herself. Life had fit into a comfortable package of late. Despite John’s claims otherwise, Dani had adjusted to life in a small town. She’d made new friends and thoroughly enjoyed her job. Her window-dressing talent was recognized by the community. The local newspaper had done a piece on her, and several people had commented about her work. She’d “never attained such notoriety in Seattle. It felt good to have her talent appreciated.
But filling up the lonely shadows of her life with work wasn’t enough. Dani longed for all the things that had made marriage to Bob so attractive. A husband, a large home filled with children.
She’d loved him, trusted him and now she didn’t know if she dared rely upon her own judgment ever again. She’d believed in Bob, believed in his love.
If she’d made so great an error assessing character once, then it stood to reason that it could happen a second time. Or heaven help her, a third. Panic filled her chest.
A sea gull had floated past just then, cawing for all it was worth. Dani watched the bird, effortlessly carried with the wind almost as if it, too, were attached by some unseen string. She felt like that bird, struggling against the wind, at a standstill despite her best efforts.
“Hello, again.”
She turned her head and discovered John. She blinked, thinking he might be a figment of her imagination.
“You’re back,” she said, pleased to see him.
“I thought you might like some company.”
It amazed her how easily he read her moods. She’d been close to tears when he’d found her on the beach earlier, angry with herself for spending a ridiculous amount of money on a kite Einstein couldn’t assemble.
“I’d love company.”
“I see the kite’s still in the air.”
“Thanks to you.” She’d secured it to a log that had drifted onto the beach, and left it to soar on its own while her heart sang the blues.
John lowered himself onto the soft sand next to her, and bunched up his long legs. He studied the sky for several moments.
“What about the store?” Dani felt obliged to ask.
He glanced at her and grinned. “I closed it for the day.”
It couldn’t have surprised her more had he said he’d sold everything and was moving to the big city. John worked long and hard. His mother often lamented that he didn’t take nearly enough time for himself. It must have been an old argument because whenever she raised it, his arguments were swift and fervent.
“It’s a beautiful day,” he said, as if that was excuse enough to close down the store. There was more than a trace of a smile in his voice. After all the times they’d been at odds, it felt good to know that John was her friend.
“Yes, it is a beautiful day,” she agreed, but they both knew that wasn’t the real reason he was there.
Neither said anything for a couple of moments.
“Listen…”
“Dani…” John said at the same time.
She paused, and gestured toward him. “You first.”
His eyes met hers and in them she read a mixture of puzzlement and reluctance. In the weeks since she’d come to work for John she’d seen him at his cynical best; she’d tiptoed, first around his resentment of her, and then later, his pretended indifference. Somehow, with effort on both their parts, they’d become friends. Good friends.
John reached for her hand, lacing her fingers with his own. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Dani Beckman. You’re like that kite up there, bright and cheerful. You’re warm and generous, and you’re hurting.”
“Is it so obvious?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not to others. I just happen to know you a little better. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
Dani looked away, fighting back tears. It did little good; they filled her eyes and she bit hard on to her lower lip in an effort to keep them from spilling onto her face. Knowing she wouldn’t fool him, she brushed her hand over her cheeks. “I’m feeling sorry for myself is all. It’s nothing, really.”
“Let’s talk about it.”
She knew he wouldn’t accept an excuse, and truthfully she was glad, because if anyone understood her feelings, it was John.
“I told you once briefly…the reason I moved here.”
“Yes,” John answered softly.
“But I didn’t tell why I chose Ocean Shores.”
“No.”
“I came because I was looking for an escape.” She swallowed once to keep from sobbing. “It sounds so simple to say I called off the wedding, but it was probably the most painful, agonizing decision I ever made.”
His fingers tightened over hers, encouraging her to continue.
“In the beginning I used to walk along the beach or sit here on one of the sand dunes and listen to the surf pound against the shore. There was something soothing about being so close to the water, something freeing. All I know is that I could sit here and for those few hours it didn’t hurt as much. I could almost pretend that my heart was whole again.” She stopped and looked at him, her face tight with pain. “You think I’m running away from my problems, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that,” he refuted gently.
She bunched up her knees and pressed her forehead there. “Perhaps, in a way of thinking, I was running away, but it was necessary. It hurt too much to stay in Seattle and see Bob day in and day out. I couldn’t have stood that. Bob seemed to think that all I needed was a little time and I’d come to my senses and everything would go back to the way it was before.”
“And you were afraid that in time he’d wear you down.” He spoke as if he was privileged to her fears.
She lifted her head to look at him. “Yes,” she whispered. “How’d you know?”
John looked out over the water, and it was as if his features had been chiseled out of granite. “I was engaged myself once, and something similar happened with me. The woman I loved fell in love with someone else. It was painful enough that she’d deceived me, but she apparently felt the need to rationalize her actions.” He hesitated and his jaw tightened. “She seemed to find it necessary to blame me.”
“Blame you?”
His mouth twisted into a sarcastic smile. “It doesn’t matter now.”
But Dani had the impression it had mattered dearly at the time. His fiancée had walked away, but before she’d gone she’d stripped him of his pride, and crushed his ego. A swell of tenderness came over her and she placed her hand on his arm.
He looked out over the ocean and exhaled. “But it’s over now, and has been for a long, long time.”
“Is it ever really over?” Dani asked. “No one understands. Not really. Everyone keeps telling me how fortunate I am, but I don’t feel fortunate.”
“Cheated and angry summed up my emotions,” John told her.
“I feel shortchanged and so terribly foolish. Why was it everyone could see what kind of person Bob was, but me? How could I have been so blind?” She didn’t know when John had slipped his arm around her, but it felt good to have it there. She let her head rest against his shoulder.
“Do you sometimes wonder
?” she asked after a moment.
“About what?”
“If you can trust your own judgment.” John’s heart felt strong and steady against her ear. “I mean, if I could give my heart to a man completely lacking in moral integrity once, what’s to say it won’t happen again?”
John was silent for a long time. Dani wished he would offer her reassurances. That was what she needed, what she wanted, but apparently he had none to give her.
“I’ve asked myself that same question a dozen times in the last five years,” he admitted gruffly. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the answer.”
“Oh, great,” she said, half crying and half laughing. “We’re both doomed, then.”
“Doomed?”
“If we can’t trust anyone of the opposite sex ever again, what are we going to do? Spend the rest of our lives alone? Frankly, I’d like to marry someday and have children. Of course, I could always take potluck.”
“What do you mean by that?”
She lifted one shoulder. Inexplicably, she felt better for having bared her soul to John. What had seemed overwhelming only moments earlier didn’t feel nearly as horrible just then.
“I suppose I could answer one of those date-line ads in the newspaper,” she explained. “I’ve read a hundred stories about how people meet through those. It might be worth my trouble, don’t you think?”
John tensed. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Well, haven’t you ever been tempted to do that?”
“No. Never.”
“Oh.”
“Might I suggest something else?” John said.
“Of course.” She was open to all suggestions.
“Date a friend. Someone you already know and trust.”
“Friends,” she said with a hefty sigh, “are in limited supply at the moment.”
“What about me?” he asked. “I realize we’ve only known each other a short time, but it seems that we’ve come a long way since that first day. I deeply admire you, Dani.”
“You? The two of us? But I thought… You once said…” Flustered, she couldn’t seem to get the right words out, and when she noticed his frown, she wasn’t sure if she should continue.