Five
“How long will it take before I catch a fish?”
Katie asked impatiently. Her fishing pole was poised over the side of the sailboat as the forty-foot sloop lazily sliced through the dark green waters of Puget Sound.
“Longer than five minutes,”
Diana informed her younger daughter.
She tossed an apologetic glance in Cliff’s direction.
He’d been the one so keen on this outing.
She wasn’t nearly convinced all this time together with the girls would work.
Cooping the four of them up in the close confines of a sailboat for an afternoon wouldn’t serve anyone’s best interests as far as she could see.
But Cliff had assured her otherwise, and the girls continued to swoon under the force of his charm.
With such resounding enthusiasm from both parties, Diana certainly wasn’t going to argue.
“The secret is to convince the fish he’s hungry,”
Joan said haughtily with the superior knowledge of a girl three years Katie’s senior.
“How do you do that?”
Diana was curious herself.
“Move your line a little so the bait wiggles,”
Joan answered primly, and gyrated her hips a couple of times as an example. “That makes the fish want to check out what’s happening. In case you weren’t aware of it, fish are by nature shy. All they need is a little encouragement.”
“All fish are shy?”
Diana muttered under her breath for Cliff’s benefit.
“Especially sharks,”
he returned out of the corner of his mouth.
“I’ve met a few of those in my time.”
Chuckling, Diana watched as he finished baiting Joan’s hook and handed her the pole. Cliff could well be a shark, but if so, he was a clever one.
When he’d completed the task, he paused and grinned at her.
“What about you?”
Diana asked as he settled down by the helm. “Aren’t you going to fish?”
“Naw.”
He slouched down and draped his elbow over the side of the sloop. Squinting, he smiled into the sun and expertly steered the sailboat into the wind.
For a full minute, Diana couldn’t look away.
Shirley had painted Cliff in such grim tones—a man without conscience who freely used women.
When he was finished, Shirley had said, he hurled them aside for fresh conquests.
Looking at him now, Diana refused to believe it.
Cliff was patient with the girls, and exquisitely gentle with her.
Just being with him was more fun than she could remember having had in months.
He appeared completely at ease with her and Joan and Katie.
But, then, she reminded herself, women were said to be his forte.
If Cliff were indeed the scoundrel her neighbor so ardently claimed him to be, then he’d done an excellent job bamboozling her.
“Mom, come and look,”
Katie called, and Diana moved closer to her daughter.
Cliff smiled.
He was enjoying this outing with Diana and her family.
Getting the girls occupied fishing had helped.
He had them using his outdated equipment, so nothing expensive could be ruined.
Actually, he was rather proud of himself for being so organized.
He’d set the fishing gear the girls could use on one side of the boat and his own on the other.
That way, there would be no confusion.
Now, with the girls interested in catching “shy”
fish, he could soak up the sun and take time to study Diana. She was nothing like the women he was accustomed to dating. The attraction he felt for her was as much a shock to him as it apparently had been to her.
She’d finished with Katie and sat next to him.
They were so close that Cliff could feel the warmth radiating from her.
He longed to put his arm around her and bring her closer to his side.
Okay, he’d admit it! He wanted to kiss her.
Her butterscotch kisses were quickly becoming habit forming.
All he’d need to do was lean forward.
Their torsos would touch first, and his mouth would quickly find hers.
No matter where he looked—the sky, the green water, the billowing sails, anyplace—he couldn’t dispel every delicate, womanly nuance of Diana.
Frustrated, he deliberately turned his thoughts to other matters.
“How’s it going, girls?”
he called, seeking a diversion.
“Great,”
Joan shouted back.
Cliff was impressed with her enthusiasm.
“All right, I guess,”
Katie said, peering over the side. “Here, fishy, fishy, fishy.”
“That isn’t going to help,”
Joan snapped, and as if to prove her point, she swung her fishing pole back and forth a couple of times, looking superior and confident.
Contented, Cliff grinned, and his gaze drifted back to Diana.
She was a widow, no less.
He’d always pictured widows as old ladies with lots of grandchildren, which was illogical, he realized.
Diana was his own age.
It wasn’t that he’d avoided dating women thirty and over, he simply hadn’t been attracted to any.
But he was attracted to Diana.
Oh yes, was he attracted! He wasn’t so naive not to realize his playboy reputation had put her off.
He’d give his eyeteeth to know what she’d heard—it would do wonders for his ego.
Smiling, he relaxed and loosened his grip on the helm.
He didn’t know what George Holiday had told his wife, but apparently Shirley had repeated it in graphic detail.
Luckily Diana had a decent head on her shoulders and was smart enough to recognize a bunch of exaggerations when she heard them.
Diana had never been on a sailboat before and she loved it, loved the feeling of relaxed simplicity, loved the wind as it whipped against her face and hair, loved the power of the sloop as it plowed through the water, slicing it as effectively as a hot butcher’s knife through butter.
Earlier, Cliff had let her man the helm while he’d moved forward to raise the sails, and she had been on a natural high ever since.
“You’re looking thoughtful,”
Cliff said to Diana a moment later.
Her returning smile was slow and lazy. She closed her eyes and let the wind whip through her hair, not caring what havoc the breeze wreaked. “I could get used to this,”
she murmured, savoring the feel of the noonday sun on her upturned face.
“Yes,”
Cliff admitted. He could get used to having her with him just as easily. When he stopped to analyze his feelings, he realized that she was the down-home type of woman he didn’t feel the need to impress. He could be himself, relax. He was getting too old and lazy for the mating rituals he’d been participating in the past few years.
“Cliff!”
Joan screamed into the wind, her shrill voice filled with panic. “I’ve . . . got something.”
The fishing pole was nearly bent in two. “It’s big.”
“Joan caught a whale,”
Katie called out excitedly.
“Hold on.”
Cliff jumped up and gave the helm to Diana.
“Here, you take it,”
Joan cried. “It’s too big for me.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“I’m not, either!”
“Joan, just do what Cliff says,”
Diana barked, as nervous as her daughter.
“But he hasn’t said anything yet.”
“How come Joan can catch a fish and I can’t?”
Katie whined. “I wiggled my hips and everything.”
“Honey, now isn’t the time to discuss it.”
“It’s never the time when I want to ask you something.”
“Reel it in,”
Cliff shouted. The urge to jerk the pole out of the eleven-year-old’s hands and do it himself was strong. The once confident Joan looked as if she would have willingly forgotten the whole thing.
Cliff watched as the fifth grader’s hand yanked against the line. “Don’t do that—you’ll lose him!”
“I don’t care. You do it—I didn’t really want to kill a fish, anyway.”
“Don’t be a quitter,”
Cliff said, more gruffly than he’d intended. “You’re doing fine.”
“I am not!”
Exasperated, Cliff moved behind Joan and helped her grip the pole. With his hand over hers, he reeled for all he was worth, tugging the line closer and closer to the boat.
“I can see him,”
Katie shouted, jumping up and down.
“It’s a salmon,”
Cliff called out as they got the large fish close to the boat. “A nice size sockeye from the look of him.”
He left Joan long enough to retrieve the net, then leaned over the side of the boat to pull the struggling salmon out of the water.
“Gross,”
Joan muttered, and closed her eyes. “No one told me there was going to be blood.”
“Only a little,”
Diana assured her.
“I want to catch a fish,”
Katie cried a second time. “It’s not fair that Joan caught one and I didn’t.”
“Don’t worry about it,”
Joan said with a jubilant sigh. “I’ll help you.”
“I don’t want your help. I want Cliff to show me.”
“Cliff has to steer the sailboat,”
Diana explained to her younger daughter. She knew this peaceful afternoon was too good to be true. The girls would erupt into one of their famous fights and shock poor Cliff. He wasn’t used to being around children—he wouldn’t understand that they bickered almost constantly.
“I’m hungry,”
Katie decided next.
In order to appease her younger daughter, Diana climbed below deck to the galley, where Cliff had stored the picnic basket, and got Katie a sandwich and a can of her favorite soda.
Within a half hour, both girls were back to fishing, and serenity reigned once again.
“How much longer will it take?”
Katie demanded within a few minutes. The irritating question was repeated at regular intervals.
Cliff’s smile was getting stiffer by the minute. He wished he hadn’t invited the girls along. He wanted Diana to himself, but he realized she would have refused the invitation if Joan and Katie hadn’t been included. For the past thirty minutes, he’d been sitting watching Diana and wanting to kiss her. He couldn’t do half the things he longed to do with Joan and Katie scrutinizing his every move. They were good kids, but it wasn’t the same as being alone with Diana. And with Katie whining every few minutes, Cliff sorely felt the need for a little peace and quiet. His musings were interrupted by Katie’s excited shout.
“Mommy, I got a fish, I got a fish!”
“I’ll show you how to bring him in!”
Joan yelled, and quickly moved to her sister’s side, dragging her fishing pole with her.
“Hey! Watch your lines.”
Cliff’s warning came too late, and before anyone could do anything to prevent it, the two fishing lines were hopelessly entangled.
“What do we do now?”
Joan asked, tossing Cliff a look over her shoulder.
Once Cliff had assessed the situation, he shrugged and sadly shook his head. “There’s nothing to do. I’ll have to cut both lines.”
“But my fish . . .”
“Honey, you can’t reel him in now,”
Diana hastened to explain, praying Katie wouldn’t be too terribly disappointed.
Cliff hated to cut the fishing lines, too, and was angry for not having warned the girls about what would happen if they didn’t mind their poles. In addition to losing the fish, he was throwing away good lures and weights. Thankfully, there was nothing of real value like his—It was then that he saw his open tackle box on the other side of the boat. Cliff went stark still. He’d given both girls specific instructions to stay out of his gear. His swift anger could not be contained.
“Who got into my stuff?”
he demanded, and knelt down to examine his box. His worst fears were quickly realized. “My lucky lure is missing. Who took my lucky lure?”
“Joan, Katie, did either of you get into Cliff’s box?”
Already Diana feared the answer. Cliff looked as though he’d like to strangle both girls for so much as touching his equipment.
“Where is my lucky lure?”
Cliff repeated, his face hard and cold.
“You . . . you just cut it off.”
Katie’s head dropped so low Diana could see her crown.
For a minute it looked as though Cliff would jump overboard in an effort to retrieve his silver lure from the murky green waters.
“That was my lucky lure,”
Cliff repeated, as if in a daze. “I caught a forty-pound rock cod with that silver baby.”
“Katie,”
Diana coaxed, “why did you get into Cliff’s equipment when he asked you not to?”
Cliff slammed the lid to his tackle box closed, and the sound reverberated around the inside of the sailboat like a cannon shot. He stood and turned his back to the three women. Diana and her girls couldn’t appreciate something like a special lure. To them it was just a five-dollar piece of silver. To him it was his “sure bet.”
The success of an entire fishing expedition depended on whether he had that silver lure. He might as well hang up his fishing pole for good without it. A woman couldn’t be expected to appreciate how much it meant. Burying his hands inside his pants pockets, Cliff muttered something vile under his breath and decided there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. The lure was gone.
“Mom, I just heard Cliff swear,”
Joan whispered.
“Cliff, I’m sorry.”
Diana felt obliged to say something, although she realized it wasn’t nearly enough. She felt terrible. With one look at the way the hot color had circled his ears, she knew how truly angry he was.
“It’s my fault,”
Katie blubbered, hiding her face against her mother’s stomach. “Joan caught a fish and I wanted one, too, and I thought Cliff’s pretty lure would help.”
“You’ll replace the lure out of your allowance money,”
Diana said sternly.
Tears welled up in the small, dark eyes as she nodded, eager to do anything to appease Cliff.
With slow, deliberate action, Cliff returned to the helm and sat down heavily. His brooding gaze avoided Diana and the girls. “Don’t worry about it,”
he said as calmly as possible.
“I’m sorry, Cliff,”
Katie whispered in a small, broken voice.
He forced his gaze to the youngster. “Don’t give it a second thought,”
he said almost flippantly.
“I’ll buy you a new silver lure just as pretty.”
“I said, don’t worry about it.”
If possible, Katie’s brown eyes grew more round. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks.
“How about something to eat?”
Diana interjected, rubbing her palms together, hoping to generate interest in the packed lunch.
“We’re not hungry,”
Joan answered for both her and her sister.
“Cliff?”
“No, thanks.”
“I guess I’m the only one.”
She got out a sandwich and even managed to choke down a couple of bites.
Cliff’s gaze drifted to Diana, who was valiantly pretending nothing was wrong. If she didn’t watch it, she was likely to gag on that sandwich. Joan and Katie were huddled together, staring at him like orphans through a rich family’s living room window on Christmas Eve. Joan had her arm draped over her sister’s shoulders, while Katie looked thoroughly miserable. Finally Cliff couldn’t stand it anymore.
“How come she loses my lure and I’m the one feeling guilty?”
If there’d been a place to stalk off to, he would have done it. As it was, he was stuck on the boat with all three of them, and he wasn’t in the mood for company or conversation.
“I think it’s time to head back to the marina,”
Diana murmured, and sat beside her daughters.
Cliff couldn’t have agreed with her more. He mumbled some reply and quickly tacked across the wind, heading in the direction of Des Moines Marina. Every now and then, his gaze reverted to Diana and her daughters. The three sat in the same dejected pose, shoulders hunched forward, eyes lowered to the deck, hands planted primly on their knees. The sight of them only made Cliff feel worse. All right, he’d lost his temper, but only a little. His conscience ate at him. So he shouldn’t have yelled, and Joan was right, he had sworn. He’d overreacted. Talk about the wrath of Khan! But for crying out loud, Katie had gotten into his equipment, when he’d given specific instructions for her to stay out.
Diana longed to say or do something to alleviate this terrible tension. Cliff had every reason to be upset. She was angry with Katie, too, but the eight-year-old was truly sorry, and other than replacing the lure, which Katie had already promised, there was nothing more the little girl could do.
“Cliff . . .”
“Diana . . .”
They spoke simultaneously.
“You first,”
Cliff said, and gestured toward her, unable to tolerate the silence any longer.
“I want you to know how sorry I am.”
When Cliff opened his mouth, she knew before he spoke what he planned to say, and it irritated her more than an angry argument. Squaring her shoulders, she gritted her teeth and waved her index finger at him. “Please don’t tell me not to worry about it.”
“Let’s forget it, okay?”
His smile was only a little stiff. He didn’t want this unfortunate incident to ruin a promising relationship. When it came to dealing with women, he did fine—more than fine. It was Joan and Katie who had placed him out of his element.
“It’s obvious you’re not going to forget it.”
“It’s just that it was a special lure,”
Cliff said, although that certainly didn’t excuse his anger.
Katie placed her hands over her face and burst into sobs.
If Cliff had been feeling guilty before, it was nothing compared to the regret that shot through him at Katie’s teary tirade. He’d lost his favorite lure; he felt guilty, and she was crying. He didn’t understand any of this, but the one thing he did know was that he couldn’t bear to see the youngster so miserable. Without forethought, he left the helm and went over to Katie. He picked her up and hugged her against his chest before turning to steer the sloop with Katie cradled in his lap. “It’s all right, sweetheart,”
he whispered, wrapping his arms around her.
“But . . . I . . . lost . . . your . . . lucky lure,”
she bellowed.
“It was just an ordinary lure. You can buy me another one just like it, and then that one will be my luckiest lure ever.”
“I’m . . . so-o-o sorry.”
She kept her face hidden in his shoulder.
“I know.”
“I’ll never ever get into your fishing box again. I promise.”
She raised her head, and Cliff wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. The surge of tenderness that overtook him came as a surprise. He’d been angry, but he was over that. There were more important things in life than a silly lure, and he’d just learned that an eight-year-old’s smile was one of them.
“We’ve both learned a valuable lesson, haven’t we?”
Katie responded with a quick nod. “Can I still be your friend?”
“You bet.”
Her returning grin was wide.
“You want to learn how to steer the sailboat?”
She couldn’t agree fast enough. “Can I?”
“Sure.”
Diana felt the burden of guilt lift from her shoulders. She enjoyed Cliff’s company and liked the way he’d included the girls in their dates. He’d gone out of his way to be good to her, and she would have hated to see everything ruined over a lost lure. He had a right to be upset—she was mad herself—but anger and regret weren’t going to replace his “silver baby.”
Diana watched as Cliff patiently showed Katie the importance of heading the sailboat into the wind. The eight-year-old listened patiently while Cliff explained the various maneuvers. He looked up once, and their eyes happened to meet. Cliff smiled, and Diana thought she’d never seen anything more dazzling. From now on she wasn’t listening to anything Shirley Holiday had to say. She knew everything she needed to know about Cliff Howard.
Remembering how good Cliff had been with Katie after she’d lost his lure made the days that followed the sailing trip pass quickly as she anticipated seeing him again. They’d left the marina, had dined on Kentucky Fried Chicken, Katie’s favorite, and had headed back to Diana’s house. Cliff had discreetly kissed her goodbye, invited her to dinner and promised to phone.
Joan sauntered into the kitchen, paused and glanced at the two chicken TV dinners sitting on top of the kitchen counter. “Is Cliff taking you to dinner?”
“Good guess.”
Joan wrinkled up her nose. “I hate to tell you this, but Katie’s not going to eat chicken unless it’s from the Colonel.”
Diana opened the microwave and placed the frozen meals inside. “She’ll live.”
“A starving woman wouldn’t eat that, either.”
Diana sighed. “You’ll enjoy the chicken, so quit worrying about it.”
“Okay.”
The phone rang, and Joan leaped to answer it as if there were some concern that Diana would fight her for it.
“Hello.”
Diana rolled her eyes as her daughter’s voice dipped to a low, seductive note, as though she expected Justin Bieber to phone and ask for her.
“Oh, hi, Cliff. Yeah, Mom’s right here.”
She placed the receiver to her stomach. “Mom, it’s Cliff.”
Diana wiped her hands dry on a kitchen towel and reached for the phone. “Hello.”
“Hi.”
The sound of his voice did wondrous things to her pulse. She wouldn’t need an aerobics class if she talked to Cliff Howard regularly. “The kids’ dinner is in the microwave, and the girls are going over to Shirley’s afterward, so I should be ready within the hour.”
“That makes what I have to tell you all the more difficult.”
He’d been looking forward to this dinner date all week and was frustrated.
“You can’t make it?”
Diana guessed. She should have known something like this would happen. Everything had gone too smoothly. The girls were going to Shirley’s, she’d found a lovely pink silk dress on sale and her hair looked great, for once. Naturally Cliff would have to cancel!
“I’m sorry,”
he stated simply, and explained without a lot of detail what had happened. A court date had been changed and he had to prepare an important brief by morning. He wouldn’t be able to get away for hours. He hated it, would have done anything to get out of it, but couldn’t. Then he waited for the backlash that normally followed when he was forced into breaking a dinner engagement.
“I know you wouldn’t cancel if it wasn’t something important,”
Diana said, hiding her disappointment.
“You’re not angry?”
His question took Diana aback. “Should I be?”
“I . . . no.”
“I’m not saying I won’t miss seeing you.”
She marveled that she was so willing to admit that. When it came to Cliff, she continued to feel as though she were standing on shifting sand. She was afraid of letting her emotions get out of control, and she didn’t want to rely on him for more than an occasional date. And yet every time he asked to see her again, she was as giddy as Joan over the rock group U2.
“I’ll make it up to you,”
Cliff promised.
“There’s no reason to do that.”
“How about dinner Thursday?”
Diana checked the calendar beside the phone. “The PTA is electing its officers for next year, and since I’m a candidate for secretary, I should at least make a showing.”
“How about—”
“Honestly, Cliff, you don’t need to make anything up to me. If you’re so—”
“Diana,”
he cut in, “I haven’t seen you or the girls in three days. I’m starting to get withdrawal symptoms. I actually found myself looking forward to watching the Disney Channel this week.”
Diana laughed.
“If you can’t go out with me Thursday, then how about Friday?”
Now that he’d gained her trust, he felt more comfortable about having her accept an invitation without having to include her daughters.
“Cliff, listen, I’m already going to be gone three nights this week.”
“Three?”
“Yes, I went to a Girl Scout planning meeting on Monday. I had a quick Sunday school staff meeting Tuesday and now the PTA thing on Thursday. I don’t mind leaving the girls every now and then, but four nights in one week is too much. If you want the truth, it’s probably a good thing you have to cancel tonight. I don’t like being gone this much.”
Cliff leaned back in his desk chair and chewed on the end of his pencil. After the fishing fiasco, he’d hoped to avoid including the girls in any more of their dates for a while. “Okay,”
he said reluctantly, “let’s do something with the girls on Friday.”
“Cliff, no.”
“No?”
“Really. Both Joan and Katie have been up late every night this week. Katie’s got a cold, and I really don’t want to take her out again. Friday night, I planned on ordering pizza and getting them both down early.”
She wasn’t making excuses not to see him, and prayed he understood that. Everything she’d said was the complete truth.
“Saturday night, then?”
He wasn’t giving up on her, not this easily.
Her breath was released on a nervous sigh. “All right.”