Lake Effect (8 page)

“Yes,
darling
,
I'd hate for you to be late for dinner.” The phone in his hand was suddenly very quiet. The screen confirmed it: “connection ended.”

• • •

Shelby tried to steady her shaking hand. What kind of a man was he? To call her and to say all those sweet things while he was out with another woman. And not just any woman — that was the same voice she'd heard coo down the steps of the manor house. She pulled the plug of the phone from the wall to stop the ringing.
I wonder if any of those women in the pictures belong to that silky voice.
She wasn't going to look. She'd had enough for one night. She'd had enough for a lifetime, now that she had a better picture of what kind of a man he was.

She headed up the steps to her room and then stopped. Going to the closet under the steps, she took out one of the two boxes she'd returned with from Bennett's Corners. She made her way to her bedroom and placed the box on the bed. She wasn't quite sure why she'd kept them when everything else had been donated. Carefully and almost with reverence, she took out the white dress shirts. There were twelve of them in all. She laughed, picturing Jack getting ready to go out on cold calls for the business. He had plenty of dress shirts but he'd only wear white for business.
“It's my power color, babe. Besides, chicks dig a man in a crisp white shirt.”
He was always saying things like that, teasing her. He'd never been with another woman but her. He used to tell people that he'd just been lucky enough to find the best first.

Over these past few weeks she'd allowed herself to think that falling in love a second time might actually be possible. She thought of Wyeth holding her in the doorway, kissing her in the backyard of the manor house. She'd thought of nothing but him since the day Norman pushed him in that damn pool. His kisses had ignited her in a way Jack's never had. They were sexy and deep … experienced, too experienced. The pictures from the newspaper clippings swirled in her head.
I'll bet she has black hair, like the evil queens of all the stories and movies.

“I am not a desperate woman,” Shelby spoke aloud to Norman who'd made himself quite comfortable on her bed. He let out a deep low growl as if he agreed. “I simply fell for his charms, apparently like so many others before me.” Norman cocked his head as if to question the statement.

Shelby thought again of the silky voice on the phone. Carefully, she placed eleven of the shirts on hangers in her closet. Slipping out of her pajamas, she took the last shirt and put it on. It was huge and hung down to her knees and it felt so good. She tossed the box to a corner of her room and crawled onto the big iron bed. It was warm but a cool breeze off the lake was helping. She drifted off into a deep sleep as thoughts of Jack and Wyeth warred in her subconscious.

• • •

Wyeth had never hit a woman in his life. Now he clenched his fists close to his sides to keep from doing just that. Abby had wrapped herself around him like a boa constrictor. He could feel her sucking the life right out of him. Pushing down the bile rising in his throat, he managed to pry her off.

“Wyeth.” He turned to see Janele as she entered the foyer, a stunned look on her face. “Hello, Abby.”

“Hello, Janele, aren't we living large these days?”

Wyeth watched as his sister's hand automatically went to her small rounded belly and her face became that of a mother lion ready to pounce. Perhaps he wouldn't have to worry about decking Abby; Janele would do it for him.

“Wyeth, Mother would like you to hurry up, they're about to serve dinner.” She shot Abby a look to kill and then left the room.

“I'm right behind you — this will only take a minute.” He pinned Abby with a stare and waited until Janele was out of the room.

“Abby, I don't know what kind of game you're playing here but it's over. You've lost.” He was right in her face trying to make his point when she grinned, reached up, and kissed him. Sickened, he pushed her away and huffed back into the grand ballroom.

• • •

Wyeth was seething mad when he got back to the table but only someone who knew him well would be able to detect that. Olivia had, no doubt, already been brought up to speed by Janele. His sister could barely hold her tongue.

As the dinner went on, he smiled and laughed when he was supposed to but he never tasted a bit of the two hundred and fifty dollar plate he'd paid for.

At last, Janele couldn't control herself any longer. “What was that all about?”

“You tell me. Apparently Ms. Newkirk has a difficult time when she doesn't get her way. You look stunning, by the way. I hope you didn't take her comment to heart.”

“Really, Wyeth, give me some credit. Abby Newkirk was the girl who in grade school made you interview for the privilege of being her friend. I'm proud to say I never applied for that position. She's a bitch, plain and simple. I'm sorry, Mother.” She nodded her head to Olivia who nodded her head in acceptance of the apology.

“I do not understand what you ever saw in her,” Janele continued, and slowly turned her head to her husband who was suddenly choking on his drink. She pinned him with her version of the Packard stare. James grinned and raised his glass to her.

Wyeth excused himself from the table and tried to call Shelby. He kept trying until the last guest had left, certain now that her ringer was turned off. Janele and Olivia chatted quietly on the return ride home. James, having tried earlier to engage Wyeth in conversation, had at last given up.

Wyeth left the family and headed up to his room, stopping in the nursery to look in on James Jr. and let the nanny know they'd returned. She excused herself to her room and left Wyeth standing there staring down at the little man, sound asleep, hugging the raggedy old blanket he took everywhere with him. Would he ever feel the joy of being a father, of creating a new life and watching it grow, learn, love?

“Hey, big brother, you want to talk about it?”

“No. I'm leaving first thing in the morning, will you tell him I said goodbye?”

“Oh, he's going to be frightfully angry with you, Uncle Wyweth.” They both laughed at the moniker he'd tagged Wyeth with. “You promised him some piggy back rides and there'll be some explaining to do if you just up and leave.”

“Seems like I'm making people mad left and right these days no matter what I do. I need to get back home, Janele. There is something important I have to tend to.”

“Home, huh?” He hadn't even realized he'd said it until his sister echoed it back to him. Patting him on the back and then hugging him his sister stepped back into the hallway and motioned him to do the same. She shut the door and looked up at her brother.

“Oh, you've got it bad. I've got news for you too, you're leaving tonight.” She laughed as a look of confusion crossed his face. “As usual, our mother is a step ahead of us. She's already called the company pilot. He's going over the pre-flight list as we speak. You leave in little less than an hour.”

• • •

Wyeth was throwing the last of his things in his bag when his mother entered the room.

“Mom, I'm sorry,” he began but Olivia held up her hand for silence.

“Wyeth David Packard, not another word. In all these years since you've been grown, I have kept my mouth shut with regard to your personal life. And, to be honest, that hasn't always been easy. I have never approved of a loose lifestyle and do not try to tell me that any of these women have ever meant anything more to you than a warm body. I know a man has needs so don't shoot me that innocent look either.” He smiled but stood still, knowing from her tone that his mother was just getting warmed up.

“In all this time, from junior high school through college to now, I've never known a girl to reject you or tell you no. I've seen plenty of them throw themselves at you and all but stand on their heads to get your attention. Then Abby came along, God forgive me I've never liked that girl or her family for that matter, but I kept my mouth shut because you're a grown man. Then something happened. I don't know what or who but I'm guessing you've finally met your match.” He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped once again by the hand.

“It doesn't take a genius to recognize a man in love. And son, in case you haven't figured it out yet, you are head over heels, knee deep in love and I say it's about damn time!” She walked across the room and stood by his door ready to leave.

“I don't know who this woman is and I certainly don't know what part Abby plays in all of this but knowing her, I'll wager it's not a good one. My guess is she's put a wrench in your plans and now it's left to you to fix it, and quickly. Pausing in the doorway, Olivia turned to offer her son one more piece of advice.

“You go back to that island, Wyeth, and you fix this. You fix this and then you bring this girl home for me to meet because I can tell you already I love her.”

By the time he found his voice, his mother had left the room. She was right — he was in love, and once he showed up on Shelby's doorstep and declared that love he was sure Shelby would forgive him.

Shelby awoke just as the sun began its climb into the Eastern sky. Her head was pounding, no doubt from the storm building outside. She knew that wasn't what had woken her, and then realized someone was knocking on her door. She crawled out from under the sheets and tossed on a pair of loose shorts, leaving Jack's shirt just as it was. She reached around her nightstand, almost knocking over the glass of water she never went to bed without, until she found her glasses.

The knocking continued as she headed down the steps. There she found Norman waiting expectantly by the door. This was a good sign — if it had been a stranger, he'd have been barking his fool head off. Peeking through the door's glass insert, she looked straight into the face of the last person on earth she expected to see.

“What do you want?” she asked, as she rested her aching head against the cool of the door that separated them.

“Shelby.” Wyeth's voice was almost pleading. “I need to talk to you.”

“That's what phones are for.”

“You unplugged your phone.”

“Yes. I guess I did.” Reluctantly she opened the door and watched as Norman leaped up at Wyeth giving him a reception worthy of a king. “Traitor,” she commented as she turned her back and headed into the kitchen. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. He was still dressed in a tuxedo, rumpled, his tie undone, but holy mother of
GQ
did he look good.

“Why'd you unplug your phone, Shelby? Please tell me it wasn't because you think I was there with another woman.”

There was a sort of pleading in his voice. Not a pathetic pleading, a “please tell me you know better” kind of pleading. She tried to find her voice but couldn't. Before she could take a deep breath and try again she felt his hands on her shoulders. She tilted her head until it rested on his hand.

“You flew back here just to talk to me?” She closed her eyes and inhaled his wonderful scent, felt the soft of the back of his hand rest on her cheek.

“Yes.”

She turned around and looked at him, looked deep into his beautiful eyes and lost herself. How long had it been? How long since she'd felt a man's touch? He brought his hand from her shoulder to her cheek and gently caressed it. She leaned into the touch and before she could stop herself she was in his arms.

Holding her head in both hands, he kissed her. She parted her lips and allowed his tongue the access it desired. The kiss deepened and shivers ran down her spine. It had been a very long time since she'd felt this kind of passion, this awakening of every nerve ending in her body. She returned his kiss with fervor and let the passion explode.

He pulled her closer and she could feel his body mold to hers. He kissed the top of her head and then held her out to see her face.

“Please believe me, Shelby.” His whispered plea traveled straight to her heart. A loud clash of thunder made her jump and Wyeth laugh.

“Are you hungry? Can I get you a cup of coffee?” She suddenly realized what she must look like. Her hair completely and totally tangled from her restless night. Her eyes, swollen and puffy from crying, and, oh, mother of mercy, she was in Jack's dress shirt and hadn't brushed her teeth.

He shook his head back and forth as his eyes darkened like the rain clouds outside. He leaned down and kissed her again with a passion she'd never known.

She melted in his embrace.

Again their kiss deepened until finally Wyeth broke the contact. They both knew where this was headed. He looked down into her face and then gently and easily scooped her up and walked her up the stairs to her bedroom. She pointed the way at the top of the steps and looked up into his eyes as he gently laid her down on the rumpled bed.

“Are you ready for this, Shelby?” He knelt down beside her so their eyes were level with one another. “If you're not ready, I'll understand.”

Words eluded her and she answered him with a simple nod of her head.

• • •

“We can go as slow as you need to.” He hoped against hope that she would say yes because right now it was taking every ounce of self control he possessed to stay here, calmly kneeling on the floor, and keep his hands to himself. He wanted her, more than he'd ever wanted any woman.

From the moment she'd answered the door, her hair all tousled and glasses askew, wearing nothing but a man's dress shirt, he'd wanted her.

The brief thunderstorm had passed, replaced by a slow and steady rain. The lace curtains on her window blew in and out with the breeze as if they were breathing. He stood and slowly removed his tie and jacket, hanging them on the back of the chair that sat by her massive, old fashioned vanity. Their eyes locked in the large round mirror and held for a moment as he unbuttoned his shirt and added it to the chair.