Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard (15 page)

“I know what the word means,” he snipped. “It's a little insulting, don't you think?”

“I guess that depends on your perspective too,” she fired back. “Maybe I feel insulted by you.”

“What did I do to insult
you?”
he demanded.

“You're suggesting that I would knowingly and willingly put your daughter into some kind of unsafe situation. I find that insulting.”

He let out a long sigh. “Fine, I get that. And I apologize.”

“I can understand you feeling protective of your daughter.” She paused. “Well, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Yes.” She turned to study his profile in the dimly lit car. “You did leave her unattended for quite some time in the video arcade. She seems a bit young for that.”

He glowered. “Well, I hadn't meant to take that long. And she convinced me she'd be okay.”

She eyed him. “So, you leave her alone like that, unattended, and I simply befriend her, spend some time with her, and suddenly I'm the bad guy?”

He shook his head. “You're right, Waverly. I guess I'm the bad guy. Rather, the bad father. My own daughter can't stand to be around me.”

“You're being quite dramatic.”

So then he began to pour out how hard it had been for him, how Sicily resented him for bringing her out here, how she'd been bored, how all she wanted to do was play stupid video games. “And now she seems intent on becoming a full-time employee at The Gallery. I suspect she'll want employee benefits too.”

Waverly couldn't help but laugh. “Maybe you didn't give Sicily enough time to make the adjustment to moving here. I'm no expert about children, but I think your daughter is perfectly charming, and engaging, and interested in a whole lot more than stupid video games. And, just for the record, I'm fairly certain that I dislike video games as much as, possibly more, than you do.”

By the time Blake dropped her off at The Gallery, they had reached an understanding. Waverly promised not to corrupt Sicily, and Blake agreed to trust Waverly to keep a careful eye on his daughter while she worked on the mural. “But if I find out that she's using this mural business as a cover-up for playing hours on end of video games, the deal is off.”

“Fine,” Waverly told him. “That works for me.”

Now he smiled at her, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I will enjoy having Sicily's help as well as her companionship.”

Blake frowned as if she'd said something offensive. Then he told her good night, and she got out of the car. He drove off a little too fast, especially for Main Street.

She shook her head. He was a hard one to figure out. Sometimes he was warm and charming. But then he would turn frosty and bitter. As far as Waverly was concerned—not that anyone cared—her cousin Janice was more than welcome to that contrary man!

As he drove home, Blake couldn't stop thinking about Waverly. But his thoughts were disparate and disconnected…and confusing. On one hand, she honestly seemed to like Sicily—and Sicily appeared enchanted with Waverly. But at the same time, he got the feeling that Waverly had taken an instant dislike to him. For some reason, she didn't approve of him, as if he were a poor excuse for a father, and perhaps even a flawed human being. He found her attitude irksome. He disliked people who judged others without even bothering to get their facts straight first.

It wasn't until he pulled his car into the garage and went into his own house that he realized he'd totally forgotten about Sicily. Maybe he wasn't that hot as a father either.
Sometimes,
he thought as he jogged down his freshly cut path,
we don't know ourselves as well as we think.

“How did it go?” Janice asked as he came up onto the screened porch where she appeared to be waiting for him. Her dark hair was curled around her face and the smile she wore reminded him of a cat he'd once owned. A very sweet but very independent cat who came and went as she pleased until she finally disappeared altogether.

He shrugged. “Okay…I guess.”

“Sicily is inside,” Janice spoke quietly, “playing gin rummy with Vivian and Mom.”

“Oh.” He sat down on a wicker rocker next to her chair. “No offense, but your cousin seems like a stubborn woman to me.”

Janice laughed. “I used to think she was rather inflexible when we were girls. I remember trying to get her to go along with me a few times. She would dig her heels in, we would argue. I'd call her pigheaded, and she'd get mad.”

He nodded. “Yes. Definitely pigheaded.” But even as he said this, he felt slightly guilty. “Or maybe I've done something to make her think less of me.”

“Oh, what could
you
have possibly done?” Janice turned on a little girl's voice now. For some reason, he found it grating. “You're the sweetest guy around, Blake. If silly old Waverly doesn't like you, it's because she's downright pigheaded.” She laughed again.

“Well, I did agree to let Sicily work for her. But I laid down the line. I told Waverly that Sicily would only be there to help with the mural—not to play video games like a street urchin.”

“See, there you go.” Janice scooted her chair closer to his. “She knows what you expect. And now you have free babysitting to boot.”

He frowned. “That's not why I'm letting Sicily do this.”

“So I get to help with the mural?” Sicily exclaimed as she burst out the door. She'd obviously been listening. “Did I hear you right, Daddy? Do I get to work for her?”

He nodded. “Your friend wore me down.”

“Good for Waverly.” Now Sicily wrapped her arms around her dad from behind, giving him a tight, warm hug. “Thank you, Daddy!”

He blinked, surprised at her expression of affection. “You—you're welcome, Sicily.”

“Let's go home now.” She came around and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. “I want to work on some more sketches.”

“How about if we thank our hostesses first,” he said.

So they went inside and properly thanked Louise and Vivian, who looked like they were ready to call it a night.

“Did you get everything straightened out with Waverly?” Vivian asked.

“Dad is letting me work for her,” Sicily told her with bright eyes.

“That's good.” Vivian nodded at Blake. “I don't think you'll be sorry.”

“No, of course not,” Louise assured him. “Waverly is a sweet girl and a hard worker. You can depend on her.”

“
See,
Dad.” Sicily grinned up at him.

“Then we shall take our leave of you ladies.” He made a formal bow, which made them giggle.

“Good night,” they called in unison.

But before he and Sicily made it over to the trail, he noticed that Janice was right alongside them. “I've got a flashlight,” she told him. “I'll light your way home.”

“I think we're fine,” he told her.

“But there could be a wild boar around.”

“Wild boars?” Sicily sounded a little scared.

“You never know. I heard they used to have them on the island.”

Blake felt skeptical but decided not to mention it. “So here we are,” he said as they were safely in his own yard. “I guess you're not afraid to get yourself back home?”

“I don't know.” Janice looked uncertain. “Perhaps a cup of coffee would help.”

He wanted to decline, but already Sicily had streaked off into the house, saying she wanted to work on some drawings. So he had no rock-solid excuse. Besides, why shouldn't he enjoy a late-night cup of coffee with an attractive woman? Except that he just didn't feel that interested.

“Or else I could just head on back,” Janice said in a dismal tone.

“No, no,” he said slowly. “A cup of Joe sounds good. I've got some good hazelnut decaf I've been wanting to try. Sound good to you?”

“Delightful.” She sat down on his porch and sighed. “What a beautiful evening.”

Blake went into his kitchen and began to fix some coffee. But as he went through the paces, the only thing he could think of was Waverly—and how he wished she was the one outside on the porch waiting for him. Oh, he knew it was ridiculous, since Waverly obviously despised him. And yet…

“Here you go,” he said as he set the pair of coffee mugs on the little table. “I put a little cream in yours. Okay?”

“Perfect.” She smiled up at him. “Already…you know me well.”

“I guess.” He sat down and looked out over the darkened water.

“I've been thinking about taking an extended vacation,” she said in a leisurely way. “My firm was balking some, but when I explained that I had the upcoming election to contend with, they seemed to understand.” She took a sip of coffee. “Besides, they know that if I make it into the state senate, it won't hurt them either.”

“Meaning?” He glanced over at her.

She shrugged. “Meaning, it's a nice thing for people to take care of each other…like you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.” She snickered. “If you catch my drift.”

He didn't catch it, but he did feel weary. As much as he hated to admit it (at his age), he merely wanted to grab a good book and go to bed. Really, what was wrong with that? But Janice was energized. She continued to talk about her firm and the upcoming election and where that might lead to, insinuating that nothing was too far out of her reach.

“I'm not a fool, Blake. I know I'm not part of the Kennedy family,” she said wistfully. “Or the Clintons—although you know they both have connections in the Vineyard. But sometimes I get this feeling that a destiny has been handed to me. Whether it came from my father or someplace else, I can't say, but I get this feeling I'm heading into something much bigger than just the Massachusetts state senate. I know my life is heading for something much bigger. Does that make any sense?”

“Absolutely,” he told her. “That makes a lot of sense. I applaud you for being willing to go for it. Not everyone has the guts to throw their hat into the ring. We need good leaders in this country.”

“You think I'd be a good leader?” Her voice was soft now, like she was asking something beyond that.

“You seem like a natural-born leader to me.”

She grimaced. “Meaning, I'm bossy.”

“Hey, I didn't say that.”

“But it's what you were thinking.”

He shrugged. “I don't know what I was thinking.”

The truth was, he was thinking about Janice's cousin. Not that he was going there right now.

“How do you feel about assertive women?” she asked.

“I think everyone should be assertive—male and female.”

“Yes, but how would you feel if you had an assertive woman by your side? Would you be intimidated?”

He was in over his head. What was she saying? Was this a proposal? “I…uh…think I should check on Sicily,” he said, standing. “She should be going to bed by now.”

“Yes.” She stood, stretching luxuriously. “Although it's sad to say adieu to such a glorious summer evening. Are you certain you want to call it a night?”

He stepped away from her. “Yes. I'm certain.”

She made a pouty face. “Have it your way. See you for coffee then?”

He was halfway into the house already but feeling very ungentlemanly for not offering to walk her back home. “I guess so.” He made an apologetic smile. “Later.”

She looked clearly disappointed, but at least she kept going. He felt like he'd just escaped a bullet. A platinum bullet…with his name engraved upon it.

When he checked on Sicily, she was happily in her pajamas and sketching away.

“I came to tell you good night,” he told her.

“Did Janice go home?” she asked with a hard-to-read expression.

He nodded.

“Do you really like her?”

He was stumped. “I—uh—I don't know.”

“I think she's just using you, Daddy.”

He paused to consider her words for a couple of reasons. The obvious one being that Sicily should make such an assumption about Janice. Where had she come up with something like that? But what really caught his attention was that she'd called him Daddy. Since getting to the Vineyard, Sicily had rarely used that old familiar term. For that reason alone, he wanted to tread cautiously with her. “Why do you think Janice is using me?” he asked gently.

“Cuz she's the kind of woman who wants a man for only one reason.”

He tried not to look shocked. But he was curious—how much did his little girl know about these things? “And that reason would be…?”

“Just so
she'll
look good,” Sicily said in a very grown-up way.

“Oh?” He kept a straight face as he studied his daughter.

“Uh-huh.” She refocused her attention on her drawing as she continued. “Alexandra had a boyfriend like that once. She said the only reason he wanted to be with her was so she could be his
wrist candy.”