Chapter 2 #3
He put the car in gear, but instead of stepping on the gas he reached over to put a hand up under her sundress on her bare knee. The gesture, probably meant to comfort, sent a bolt of pure thrill straight between her thighs.
He said, “That’s what you get for wearing a dress.”
She’d dressed up for the occasion, needing to make a good impression on Mrs. Blaise. Then she realized she had no idea what Dane’s mother’s name was.
“What do I call your mother, Dane?”
He shrugged off her question and the dampening effect caused him to turn his attention to driving.
He pulled the car from the crushed shell drive of the beach shack that she’d shared with him off and on for something over a year now. She felt a pang. This felt like home to her now and she realized maybe she had no right to that feeling. She didn’t even know his mother’s name.
“What’s your mother’s name, Dane?” The temperature of her voice was inversely proportional to the temperature of her blood. She was surprised the water vapor in her breath hadn’t turned to ice crystals.
He glanced at her as he rounded a corner too fast. She held herself in place, refusing to sway against him.
“Her name is Claire. You can call her that. Or maybe Mrs. Blaise.”
She almost flinched. But she met his eyes and said, “Okay. You can call my mother Mrs. George.”
He nodded. She looked out the window and watched the shops pass by as they neared the Vineyard Haven Steamship Authority. She wondered how the hell she would share his bed tonight.
*****
He parked in a no-parking zone next to Cap’s cop car—Captain Colin Lynch would give him a friendly piece of hell for it.
But they’d been friends and partners in catching too many criminals for him to do anything but let Dane do what he damn well pleased.
Cap didn’t mind, not really. He was good at not sweating the small stuff considering he was Chief of the State Police on Martha’s Vineyard.
“You are going to show your charming face for my mother, right?” Shana threw her long blond tresses over one shoulder.
He tugged on a curl, pulling it forward. He’d hardly given a thought to meeting her mother since he’d failed to talk his own mother into staying home. But he was wise enough not to say that.
“She won’t know what hit her, I’ll be so charming.”
“Her name is Tilly. But don’t call her that. Call her Mrs. George.”
They walked along the deck on the outside of the Steamship Authority building to the back, which overlooked the harbor, to the farthest point they could get short of where passengers were on- and off-loaded.
He put his hand above his brow to shade his eyes and looked out over the busy harbor. He saw a ferry. It could be theirs.
“You think that’s it?”
He turned to her. She looked at him. She didn’t smile. Her emerald eyes had a strain about them.
“Why are you so nervous?” Dane knew why his nerves jumped—although he’d never let it show.
“It shows?”
He laughed and pulled her to his side. “Don’t worry. Our mothers will love us and each other and they’ll be safe and all will be well.”
“Who are you?”
He laughed a more genuine laugh at that. He should have told her he was tense, but he couldn’t. She didn’t want to hear that. She wanted him to be the implacable one.
“I’ve been picking up pointers from—”
The loudspeaker interrupted him, announcing the imminent arrival of the ferry.
“They’ll be all right. I’m not worried about them. I know we’d protect them with our lives.”
“Then what is it?”
“I…I’m worried about your mother liking me.” Her eyes glittered.
His chest squeezed the breath from him and he pulled her face close to his and kissed her full on the lips whether she wanted him to or not, whether it was the right thing to do or not because he had no words of reassurance because her fear was too much inside of her and not in logic.
So he fed her his kiss, his full emotional logic-beating kiss.
Dane said, “My mother will like you because she’ll see what I see. Because she’ll see—”
“She’ll think I’m good enough for you?”
“What?”
“Don’t make me say it again.”
“She’ll see you’re too good for me. And that’s what I’m up against with your mother. I’m feeling lucky your brothers won’t be around. At least not this week.”
She smiled. It looked genuine to him, maybe a little tense, but mostly relieved.
“Now all we need to do is keep them safe,” she said.
“You got a place at Mrs. Jones’s for your mum so she should be fine.”
“Yes.”
“You should go stay with her.” He forced himself to breathe normally. It was a test question. He wasn’t sure if he was testing Shana or himself.
“No. Not happening.” She smiled again and this time it was robust.
He should have known the magic to turning Shana into the warrior princess she was would be slapping her with a little challenge.
“We’ll see.” He said it more to annoy her than anything.
She laughed.
The ferry docked. The ramp connected and the gate opened.
Dane watched from ten yards away as people of all varieties stepped off the boat, sunglasses perched and smiles brimming.
The hell of it was that his heart thudded fast and his palms sweated as if he hadn’t seen his mother in a lifetime.
As if he were waiting for the worst thing in the world to happen.
Shana slid her arm around his and held on tight. They moved forward together to greet the two smiling middle-aged women heading their way and looking more different than he’d seen two women look since Cagney and Lacey.
“I’m surprised there’s not a parade of handsome men following you two—but I’m sure they were scared off once they saw me.” Dane smiled and lasered in on his mother’s grin and her outstretched arms.
He went to her, drawn by tradition and irresistible longing.
When he wrapped his arms around her and held on, he noticed two things.
She still had that warm motherly feel and though she’d not lost her elegance, she’d lost some of her height.
At least an inch. The knowledge struck a painful chord, right between his shoulder blades where the sharp ache of tension resided.
He straightened, holding her arms and looking into her glistening brown eyes.
She was past middle-aged now. She was old.
“Mom.” It was all he could say. She laughed.
“You have no idea how thrilled I am to be here. But let’s just say I know how Napoleon felt after his long exile.”
He let go, brushing his hand against her shoulder-length sun-streaked hair, noticing the gray strands sparkling like decorations of wisdom. She’d always been wise, but now, hell. She’d probably make damn Obi Wan of Star Wars fame seem silly.
“Dane, I want you to meet my mother, Tillie George.”
Dane turned his attention from his mother, but not completely. She would remain in his orbit of awareness for the duration. He faced the short, plump woman with a mass of short curls covering her head and giant pink-framed sunglasses perched on her perky nose.
“Mrs. George, I’m glad to finally meet you.” It was true. The burden of anticipation for Shana had been killing him. But looking at the woman he realized he’d better take care not to let his amusement show. She was nothing like Shana.
Thank God. He didn’t want to have to play chess with three insanely canny women. Two were plenty to test his capacity.
“Oh, ho. I’m sure. I’ve been positively dying to meet you. I’m so glad—”
“Mum, we best be going.” Shana lifted her mother’s giant flowered bag that brought to Dane’s mind Mary Poppins. He withheld a smile. Mrs. George probably would have rambled on and Dane had a feeling that was exactly why Shana had interrupted her.
Turning to his mother with a wink, he took the sleek steel-colored rolling carry-on from her grasp and put an arm around her.
“Follow me.” He scanned the area as they moved to the illegally parked Jeep.
He wished he had an armored vehicle. The cloud of surreality of seeing his mother here on his island evaporated, leaving edgy caution and a low-level vibrating fear that never left.
As if he were a human tuning fork set to the key of D flat.
Shana hustled her mother along. No easy task from the looks of it. She half dragged the poor woman. But Tilly’s smile never faded and Dane decided there and then that he liked the woman. She had the potential of becoming a fond ally.
Once they reached the Jeep at the curb, Dane helped his mother into the back seat before throwing the luggage in the rear.
Shana got Tillie strapped into her seat belt as if she were a toddler, with the woman clucking and slightly embarrassed.
Dane got into the driver’s seat and gave Tillie a wink that set her off to giggling.
A quick glance at his mother in the rearview showed him her serene smile.
The way he remembered it when he last saw her. Three years ago.
Too long.
Cap was parked two cars behind them and Dane waved him to follow as he pulled out into the busy tourist traffic.
“Mum, tell me exactly why the boys stayed in Boston. The hellions couldn’t at least escort you here?” Shana had that universal older sister attitude.
“Oh now, don’t you worry. They’ll be along. They had some sort of game tickets to some hot team they had to see.”
“The Red Sox? The Patriots?”
Tillie waved her hand like it didn’t matter and all the while her smile held. From what Dane could see when he glanced in the mirror, it looked genuine.
“It gave Tillie and me a chance to talk,” Dane’s mother said.
“How did you know who my mum was?” Shana asked, twisting around in her seat.
“I’m not sure. But I had a feeling and so I approached her. Maybe it was her Australian accent.” His mother chuckled.
Shana grinned. She didn’t look unnerved as Dane would have expected—as he would have been. But then he knew his mother and how canny she was. He also knew his mother was as good as a saint. Maybe Shana figured that and counted on it. That was good. Or was it?
Dane realized for the first time as he turned onto his street, stupidly, that he was outnumbered by women. Hopefully he wouldn’t be out-gunned.
He pulled into the crushed-shell drive of the beach shack and the place that had always seemed perfectly suited to him, adequate and homey in the sense that it was familiar, suddenly seemed like a rough place to be bringing his mother.
“I arranged for Sassy Stevens to bring pie and Ronnie Ryan is bringing some kind of fish of the day for lunch,” Shana announced. “We’ll picnic out back. There’s enough time for you ladies to freshen up before the food arrives.”
Shana winked at him. He wasn’t sure why.
Dane smiled but he suspected the tension in his face made it look less grateful than he meant it to.
Cap pulled up behind them in his unmarked police car and got out.
“I’ve been waiting to meet the two remarkable women who managed to parent the two people least likely to be easily parented.” Cap stood by while Dane opened his mother’s door.
“Meet Captain Colin Lynch. My mother. Mrs. Claire Blaise.”
“Delighted. Dane has spoken so highly of you, Cap.”
Cap flashed him a look of surprise.
His mother gave Cap a hug as Dane got her bags out of the back. Then it was Shana’s turn to introduce her mother. Dane watched for Cap’s reaction to Tilly, but he behaved like the genuine boy scout that he was.
Maybe Dane was the only one aware of the universe of difference between Shana and her mother.
“I’m staying outside,” Cap said. “I’m on duty.” He saluted Dane.
“On duty? What—”
“Never mind that, Mum. Let’s get you inside and freshened up.” Shana hustled the two older ladies to the back door.
Dane trailed behind them as Shana led them inside. Before he went in he turned back to Cap.
“Any word?”
Cap shook his head and leaned against his car.
“With a bit of luck, Dag won’t know a thing until after your mother’s back home safe and sound.”
Dane grunted. Fat chance. He would never underestimate Dagmar Hunt. He’d learned that lesson once at a young age and that lesson was enough to last a lifetime. He said nothing to Cap and went inside.
Dane said, “Let me put your bags—”
“In the guest room,” Shana finished for him.
He had no idea why she didn’t want their mothers to think it was her bedroom, but he’d roll with it. He kept his eyebrows from wagging, but he felt a lurch in his gut that signaled his excitement about his prospects.
Claire followed him into the bedroom.
“I’m so glad I finally came to see you, Dane,” she said.
He couldn’t say he was glad, but couldn’t say he wasn’t, so he smiled. He didn’t know how he felt right now. Happy to see her, feeling the comfort of her presence. And terrified.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It was my decision to be here. It’s long past time to ignore the old threat. I’m practically an old woman now and it’s been half a lifetime since Dag made his bold statements. No one is coming after me now.”
“You’re probably right.” The tightening of his chest told him he hoped to hell she was right but he wasn’t so sure. He’d underestimated Dag’s appetite for vengeance once before.
“Besides, if anyone comes after me, I’m certain you’ll protect me. You always have.”
That line sent spirals of dread through him. Beads of sweat popped on his upper lip and he tasted the salt.
At that moment, his desire to know exactly where Dag was and what he was doing became a desperate need.