Amazing Gracie (32 page)

A knot of dread formed in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the house sitting empty and silent and no more than half complete. With only a month to go before the scheduled opening, it should have been a beehive of activity.

What the devil was going on? Where had everyone gone and when? He was sitting on the front steps of the Victorian pondering the possibilities when Abby exited Bobby Ray’s car in front of him.

“Hi, Uncle Kevin. How come you’re here?”

“I thought I’d stop by and help, but no one’s around to tell me what to do.” He glanced up to see Bobby Ray regarding him with smug amusement. “Okay, what do you know that I don’t? Where’s Gracie?”

“Gone,” Abby said.

Kevin felt as if he’d been sucker-punched right in the gut. All the air seemed to whoosh right out of him. “Gone? Gone where?” He barely managed to get the panicked words out around the tightness in his throat.

“France,” Abby said as if it were no more than a trip to the supermarket.

“Gracie went to France?” he repeated. Back to Max? Back to Worldwide?

“Sorry, pal,” Bobby Ray said with more satisfaction than sympathy as he lowered himself to the step beside Kevin. “Guess you weren’t paying enough attention to her.”

“That’s absurd. I was only gone for a few days.”

His cousin chuckled at his immediate defensiveness. “You’re pitiful, you know that don’t you?”

“Oh, go to blazes,” Kevin muttered, aware that he’d given away way too much about his emotional state.

“That’s a switch, you telling me where to go.”

“Daddy, stop teasing him,” Abby protested. “Can’t you see he’s miserable?”

“Of course I can,” Bobby Ray said. “I thought I’d let him wallow in his misery for a few minutes.”

“But he thinks Gracie’s run off to be with Max.”

Bobby Ray’s eyes gleamed. “I know,” he said happily.

“Daddy!”

“Okay, okay,” his cousin said. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Then what the hell is it?”

“It’s true that Gracie has gone to France, but Helen and Delia are with her,” Bobby Ray explained. “So’s Marianne.”

Kevin stared at him. “They’ve all gone? What the hell went on around here while I was out of town?”

“As near as I can tell—and don’t forget I’m a mere man, so the workings of the female mind often elude me—Delia was moping around for some reason and Gracie was stressing out about her and about your absence, so the next thing I knew Helen had gotten the notion to take them all shopping.”

“In France?” Kevin repeated, dazed.

“Paris, to be precise. As far as I know, they’ll be back tomorrow, unless, of course, there’s some sale they can’t resist in Rome or Milan or London. You know Helen once she gets her credit card in gear.”

“You’re sure about Paris being the destination, though. They weren’t taking a side trip to Cannes, were they?”

Bobby Ray chuckled again. “No need. Max was meeting them in them in Paris to show them around.”

Kevin groaned. “I don’t believe this.”

“Obviously, this is not a group of women you can turn your back on,” his cousin suggested.

“How the devil did Marianne get involved?”

“Helen called to fill her in on where they’d be,” he explained, then stopped.

“Tell him the rest, Daddy,” Abby insisted. “Tell him about you and Mom.”

To Kevin’s astonishment, a sheepish grin spread across Bobby Ray’s face. “Marianne and I, we’re thinking about
getting married again. We’re looking at Labor Day weekend. The minute they found out about that, Helen invited her along to buy some fancy stuff for the honeymoon.”

Things were moving way too fast for the comfort of a man who liked to keep his life slow-paced and relaxed. Uncomplicated. Kevin regarded Bobby Ray intently. “May I point out that you’re still married to Sara Lynn, or is that just considered a minor inconvenience?”

“She’s agreed to a quickie divorce,” Bobby Ray explained. “Of course, it will cost me, but so what? It’s only money.”

“Which you don’t have,” Kevin reminded him.

“Well, actually, I was counting on you to come through for me again. I figured you might want me back with Marianne and Abby enough to bail me out.”

Kevin studied his cousin closely. Bobby Ray looked vaguely uneasy, but he supposed that could be attributed to his fear that Kevin would refuse to give him the money for Sara Lynn. When it came to marrying Marianne again, he seemed totally confident. Just to be sure, though, he asked, “This is what you really want? You’re not just playing some sort of emotional game because you can’t bear to be alone and uninvolved for more than a second? You’re certain? Forever and ever, amen?”

“Till death do us part,” Bobby Ray assured him. “I never should have let Marianne get away in the first place. My pride got in the way.”

“He’s learned his lesson, Uncle Kevin. I swear it,” Abby told him solemnly. “Please give Sara Lynn whatever she wants, okay? Maybe she’ll move far, far away, like Alaska.”

Alaska would almost certainly chill Sara Lynn’s
overly active libido, Kevin thought, but kept that particular opinion to himself.

“And once all of this business with Sara Lynn is straightened out, you’ll never have to worry about me bugging you for money again,” Bobby Ray promised.

Kevin regarded him skeptically. “Oh?”

“I’ve gotten a job with Ray Mason.”

“The contractor?” Kevin asked, astounded. “Doing what, for heaven’s sakes? Have you realized that you’ll actually sweat, if you do this, that you won’t be wearing those fancy suits you love to work?”

“Yes, I’ve realized all that,” Bobby Ray responded.

“Then what on earth brought this on?”

“Working on this place with you guys, I realized how much I enjoy working with my hands, building things, painting. Maybe it has something to do with me getting a second chance, but I kind of like seeing a house get a new lease on life, too. Best of all, I’m pretty good at it.”

“You know he is, Uncle Kevin,” Abby said. “He never messed up the painting the way you did.”

Bobby Ray grinned at the loyal backing of his daughter. “Thanks, kiddo. Anyway, Ray says he’ll train me and, if I do okay, I can start taking on renovation projects of my own once I’m licensed.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Kevin mumbled.

“Isn’t it great, Uncle Kevin?” Abby said, slipping her hand into her father’s and gazing at him with adoration rather than the justifiable cynicism she’d displayed far too often.

Kevin leveled a look straight into Bobby Ray’s eyes and saw no signs of deception or wavering enthusiasm. He seemed to be throwing himself wholeheartedly into this new plan for his life. For once, the concept of hard
work didn’t seem to faze him. He wasn’t looking for a quick buck or an easy way out. It was the first time in years that Bobby Ray seemed to have found a purpose.

“You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?” he asked at last.

“Took me long enough, don’t you think?”

“The point is, it didn’t take you too long. Marianne and Abby were still waiting.”

“We would have waited a hundred million years,” Abby insisted.

Bobby Ray dragged her into his arms and began tickling her. “You can’t even count that high, kid.”

“Well, I could have, if we’d had to wait that long,” she said with her unerring logic. She peered at Kevin. “Are you going to wait that long before you marry Gracie?”

Kevin reached over and ruffled her hair. “You meddle in your father’s life,” he instructed her. “Stay out of mine.”

“But—”

“No buts, short stuff.”

“You know you like her,” Abby argued, undaunted by Kevin’s scowl. “You looked awful when you thought she’d gone back to France to be with Max.”

“Of course, I like her, but—”

“Then marry her, Uncle Kevin.”

Bobby Ray chimed in with his two cents. “Yeah, Kev, for once in your life, stop worrying about the rest of us and do something that’s right for you.”

Kevin regarded his cousin with a touch of irony. “Do you honestly think you’re the one to be giving me advice when it comes to romance?”

“Why not?” Bobby Ray retorted. “I’ve made more mistakes than you’ll ever think about making, but I’ve
finally got it right. Listen to the voice of experience. When the good one comes along, grab on and hang on tight.”

Kevin considered Bobby Ray’s advice as he lounged in his hammock that afternoon. For once, though, peace seemed to be eluding him. He was restless and uneasy. For all of Bobby Ray’s reassurances that the women—all of them—would be coming home tomorrow, he knew for a fact that Gracie could be unpredictable.

What if Max finally came up with a convincing argument to lure her back to Worldwide? What if he threw buckets of money at her, as she’d once worried he would? What if she just realized that she missed France and couldn’t bear to leave the country again? What if Seagull Point’s quaint charm just didn’t hold up against the lights of Paris?

Well, he supposed he’d just have to brush up on his French and find someplace over there to live. He wasn’t letting her slip away. That much was certain.

As for marrying her, though, that was a whole other kettle of fish. Gracie was as independent as anyone he’d ever met. She hadn’t relied on him for a single thing since he’d known her, hadn’t asked for much, either. He didn’t know what to make of a relationship that wasn’t based on neediness of one kind or another.

If he’d known precisely where Gracie was, he would have gone traipsing after her to get a few answers. But based on Bobby Ray’s information, it was more than likely that the whole bunch of them was getting ready to fly home. In fact, they might be in the air at this very minute.

Irritated that he couldn’t get Gracie off his mind and
relax, he finally muttered a curse and abandoned the hammock. He got in his car and headed back to town, straight for the Victorian. If he wasn’t going to get any peace anyway, he might as well be doing something productive. When he’d been in that tower room with Gracie the other night, he’d gotten a few ideas. Well, more than a few actually, but some of them he’d acted on at the time, he recalled with a smile.

He climbed the stairs to that cramped little room where they’d waited for the ghosts of Great-great-Aunt Anne to make her presence known. Once up there, he surveyed it again. It seemed to him it might be possible to knock out the narrow wall between that room and the one next door to create an office and sitting-room arrangement. The wall at that point wasn’t much broader than a wide doorway, but it would do. He knew enough to be sure it wasn’t a bearing wall before he took a sledgehammer to the old plaster.

Amazing
, he thought as dust flew and settled all over his bare shoulders and filled his nose until he had a minute-long sneezing fit. Physical labor, which he’d always avoided like the plague, did provide a certain amount of distraction. Maybe it would keep Bobby Ray on the straight and narrow.

As he worked, Kevin thanked heaven for the summer he’d worked for Ray Mason during college. He had a basic knowledge of the rudiments. With any luck, he wouldn’t send the whole house crashing to the ground.

He was barely aware of the passage of time as he cut the doorway into the next room, framed it and installed wallboard from the supply the contractor had left downstairs.

The second room was larger, better for an office, he
concluded, envisioning where Gracie could put her desk and still have a view of the river and room enough for file cabinets. She was going to love it.

As for the tower room itself, he imagined a couple of comfortable chairs in front of the tall windows, with a table in between for a pitcher of lemonade and some sandwiches. He also envisioned a narrow daybed along the back wall, something Gracie could use to catch a few winks when she was tired.

Something they could share for a few stolen moments of steamy sex, if he had his way. The floor was damned uncomfortable, and it wouldn’t get any less so as the years passed by and their bones grew creaky.

He sat down against the wall and sipped at the cold beer he’d brought up with him and let his imagination run wild. His flesh heated with the combination of memories and vivid expectations. More years of expectations than he’d ever considered with any other woman.

He wasn’t sure at first whether Gracie was real, when he heard the rustling beside him and the low, sweet murmur of his name. It was the perfume that convinced him, something fancy and sexy. French, no doubt. Meant to drive a man crazy.

“So,” he said without opening his eyes. “You’re back.”

He felt the swish of something silky settling down next to him, then another teasing hint of that perfume.

“I’m back,” she agreed. “I’m surprised to find you here in the middle of the night.”

“What time is it?”

“After 2:00 a.m. The plane got in at midnight. I spotted the light on up here when I was driving home and stopped to check on the place. I see you’ve been busy while we were gone.”

“I had an idea.”

“Apparently.”

“I figured if you were determined to hang out up here in the attic, you needed more room to move around.” He opened one eye then and glanced at her. She looked sleepy, but there was no mistaking the fact that she’d been buffed and polished and fancied up by experts. She even had a sassy new haircut that emphasized her eyes. It made her seem more mysterious, more out of reach than ever.

“Gracie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m curious about something.”

“What?”

“Why don’t you ever ask me for anything?”

“I don’t need anything.”

He sighed heavily. “That’s what I figured.”

“Kevin?”

“Yes?”

“Need isn’t what makes a relationship work.”

He forced a half smile. “Couldn’t prove that by me.”

“Just wait,” she said with a confidence he didn’t fully understand. “You’ll see.”

“You gonna stick around that long?”

She seemed surprised by the question. “Of course. Where else would I go?”

He voiced his worry, tried to keep his tone casual. “I thought maybe you’d be having second thoughts about Cannes about now, since you’ve had a taste of France again.”

“Heavens, no,” she said emphatically, reassuring him. “The trip was fun. I’ve never shopped so much or so fast and furiously in my life. Helen is astonishing. The rest of us just hung on for the ride.”