Chapter 37

She smiled at her reflection until a woman came into the bathroom with her young daughter, which made Candace bolt back to the stall, pack up her shorts and top in the shopping bag and his camera in her purse, and leave.

Not a great idea to stand grinning foolishly at yourself in a public bathroom.

Out to her car in the parking garage which had reverted to being inoffensive, out into the sunshine of what had been and would now continue to be a blissful day, heading toward the Third Ward. On St. Paul Avenue, her cell rang. Michelle. Candace pulled over immediately opposite the station and answered with shaking hands, guilty for not thinking about Gran and Grandad every second of the morning. “Did you hear from them?”

“They’re fine! No worries. The hurricane is moving quickly, they’re in the shelter, safe and sound. They haven’t even lost power. Gran said people are incredibly organized and patient and there’s a great feeling of community while they weather the storm. Grandad has a chess game going and Gran figures she’ll finish another sweater today.”

“Oh, thank God!” Candace’s spirits lifted even higher. “That’s wonderful.”

“So don’t worry and enjoy your date. Nolan is a serious sweetheart. And a hottie.” She snorted. “A sweet-hottie. I really can’t believe I let you get him.”

“He’s a good guy.” Candace laughed at the understatement. “Oh, and thanks for the dress, Michelle.”

“I wanted to get you something slit to there and tight, tight, tight, but he said no and picked that one out for you.”

“Really?” Her glow intensified, mixing with happiness that her grandparents were safe. That was the main thing. And hey, if, when they got out of the shelter, they discovered their condo was ruined, maybe they’d come back home and she could stay here with Nolan and— She said goodbye to her sister, hung up and drove on toward Quinley Street. No way could she wish that on them. They’d chosen their new life in Langford, they loved it down there, and Candace would, too.

Lunch was perfect, from the chilled roasted tomato soup to the delicious lamb sandwich served with thin, crisp, perfectly salted French fries, to the excellent wine, service and mmm, yes, company. Nolan’s eyes had lighted up at the sight of her in the dress; they talked easily throughout the meal then lingered over cups of strong coffee to combat wine-induced sleepiness.

“Come on.” He paid the bill and escorted her to the exit. “I want to show you something.”

“Okay.” She said a silent “yes” of satisfaction that he hadn’t finished with her yet and trailed his car up Lakeshore Drive to the suburb of Whitefish Bay.

On Summit Avenue he parked in front of an enormous brick Tudor. She hurried from her car to meet him at the base of the driveway, feeling as if they were blissfully reuniting when they’d been apart for all of ten minutes.

She could get used—she was getting used to this. If Gran and Grandad were all right, maybe she could put off leaving another day… What for? To prolong the agony?

When Michelle was seven, she’d managed to cut her finger deeply with a paper cutter. Candace had been stuck nursing her because their mother passed out every time she got a look at the injury—though Mom had come through in other ways, cuddling Michelle and reading to her in bed with Candace snuggled up next to them both, wishing with all her heart that could be a nightly ritual, even knowing it wasn’t possible.

But while Candace had been in charge of changing her sister’s dressings, she’d told Michelle over and over: it hurts less if you pull bandages off quickly, get the pain over with in one quick second rather than drawing it out. That was how she’d deal with Nolan. Pull him off her and get the worst of the pain over with in one quick second.

“Welcome to my home.” He put his arm around her and the two of them stood gazing at the impressive structure, shaded by a towering maple that seemed to embrace the house. “I was the only brother who wanted it when my parents moved out, so I inherited.”

“Are all your brothers local?”

“John is. Mark went his own way and is VP of an engineering company, currently working in Germany.”

“Pretty high-powered family.”

“Dad wouldn’t have it any other way.” He smiled wryly. “My grandfather didn’t cut Dad any rich-boy slack, and Dad refused to do it for us, either.”

“You don’t respect that?”

“I do. Deeply. But Dad took it a little too far.”

Candace winced. “And nearly paid with your health.”

“Yeah, but I’m fine now, and have emerged from the Cult of Dad.” He moved her to the front door. “We all have some dysfunction in our past. Otherwise we wouldn’t be human.”

“True.” She understood better than he knew. She could hear all the pain behind the brief summary of his life, feel the loneliness and frustration of thwarted hopes. She wanted to go back in time and fix it all for him, but no one got that chance. You took what the world dealt and played the hand as best you could going forward.

“Let’s see if you get to meet the nephew horde.” He opened the front door with his key, stuck his head in. “Maria?” No answer.

“Hmm, guess what?” He pulled Candace in and shut the door behind her, took her hands. “We’re alone.”

“Oh?” She blinked innocently.

He locked her hands behind his back, put his on her waist. “In a house.”

“Mmm?”

“With bedrooms.” He moved his pelvis against hers. “That have beds in them.”

“Ohhh.” Her innocent act fled, replaced by hunger. Don’t think, live in the moment and do.

He kissed her, once, twice; passion began to ignite…then they both heard it: the roar of the garage door going up. The sound of an engine, young voices shouting over it out open car windows.

“Oh, for—” Nolan smacked his hand on the wall above Candace’s head, looking at her in baleful exasperation, which made her giggle. “This way.” He took her by the hand and led her through to the basement, closing and locking the door behind him. “We’ll hide down here.”