As the Crow Flies, page 30
“Geez,” Liz said. “At first that dog couldn’t care less about you, and now she’s scared to death.”
“She’s not scared. She just hates me…like Rosa hates me.”
“Shh…” Liz nudged her as Isabel came up to them.
Isabel turned with a puzzled face to watch her Scottie disappear into the crowd and then shrugged.
Samantha put her gift bag down to greet the exuberant pit bull. “Hey, Goose!” she said, scratching the dog’s back and patting her side. Then she straightened and smiled at Isabel.
The moment their eyes met, Isabel blushed, obviously aware that Samantha had spent the night with her aunt, but she put her arms around Samantha and hugged her anyhow. “Thank you for being here and for helping pull off the surprise. Fooling my aunt is never an easy task.”
“Look at you two,” Liz said, holding her hands out to both of them. “Your outfits almost match.”
Isabel looked down at herself and laughed. “They do. And we also match the servers, in case you haven’t noticed.” She waved an arm at the wait staff walking around with hors d’oeuvres and then checked her watch. “Gwen needs to get out here, but she wanted you to go in and see her before she does,” Isabel said to Samantha.
“I was just walking her there,” said Liz.
Liz left her by the porch, and Samantha went into the house. She sipped her margarita and set it on a table in the foyer before heading upstairs and knocking on the bedroom door.
“Who is it?” Gwen called out.
Samantha hid the gift behind her back and put her lips to the crack in the door. “Your masseuse.”
A moment later the door opened halfway, and there stood Gwen in a sleeveless, off-white dress and one matching high heel. The other shoe was in her hand, and she let it drop to the floor. Holding on to the doorknob for balance, she slid her foot in and pulled the heel on. Then she quickly yanked Samantha into the room, closed the door, and backed her up against it. “How could you let me leave without a shower?” Her tone was accusatory, but her eyes were dreamy, and she was smiling just a little. “I’ve never been so embarrassed! I had body butter in my hair. And I smelled like…like us,” she said, sliding her hand seductively between Samantha’s legs and squeezing the inside of one thigh.
“I’m so sorry.” Samantha kept the gift behind her back, picturing the embarrassing scene and trying not to laugh. “I tried my best to get you in the shower. If I’d persisted, you’d have known something was up.”
“And when I saw Liz…I was shocked, but so happy, because I knew that meant you were coming.”
Samantha withdrew her arm from behind her back and held up the blue gift bag. “A peace offering,” she said. “If you don’t have time to open it, I’ll put it in the pile outside.”
“Don’t you dare,” Gwen said. She took the bag over to a table between two chairs opposite the four-poster bed and turned on a lamp.
“I know you didn’t get to see Picasso at the Met today, but at least you’ll get to have something made by his daughter.”
Gwen just stared at her after she opened it. “Sam, I…I don’t know what to say. This is…very special.” She took the necklace out and draped it across her palm. “Paloma Picasso. I love her jewelry. I have a brooch from one of her older collections.”
“This is from the Melody collection. The entwined circles reminded me of our first dance.”
Gwen touched it again. “And I can’t wait to dance with you tonight, although we won’t be waltzing to that house music Isabel has going.” She handed it to Samantha. “Would you put it on me?” she asked, turning around and lifting her hair.
Once Samantha fastened it, Gwen walked over to a cheval mirror and smoothed her fingertips over the gold piece. “It’s beautiful, Sam…so is the symbolism. Thank you so very, very much…but really, you should not have done this.”
“Yeah, I should have.” Samantha came up from behind, putting her arms around Gwen’s waist and kissing her cheek. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
Gwen turned and hugged her, then pulled back and stared at her, her expression more serious than Samantha had ever seen it. “I’m falling in love with you, you know.”
“I’m way ahead of you.”
They stared at one another for a moment, neither saying anything, until Gwen leaned in, her lips stopping just before they touched Samantha’s. “I want to kiss you so much,” she said, “but we’ll end up with lipstick all over our faces.”
“I’ll collect that kiss later. Unless I’m banished to the guest room again.”
“Not a chance. You’re sleeping with me tonight…and we might actually sleep. I’m exhausted, and I know you must be, too.”
“I am. In a good way, though.” Samantha reached with a finger to push a strand of blond hair from her face. It seemed Gwen had put some mousse in her hair and let it dry on its own, and the look was sexy, summery. “You look gorgeous. And you better get out there.”
“I know. Time to make my second grand entrance.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Come with me.”
“No. I’m going out ahead of you.” Samantha kissed her cheek, her lips sliding up to Gwen’s ear. “Go greet your waiting guests and don’t worry about me. I already know a few people here.”
As Samantha went down the stairs with Gwen following her, she heard the hurried sound of heels racing across the tiled foyer. And here came Rosa in a bright-red dress and a flower in her coiffed hair. She was rushing toward the staircase, watching where her feet were going and not looking ahead until she reached the first step of the staircase and nearly bumped into Samantha.
“Oh!” Rosa looked between Samantha and Gwen. “Señora Weller. Buenos!” She greeted her in an overly friendly and exaggerated tone, all for Gwen’s benefit, no doubt. “Welcome to the party. It’s so good to see you again.” And then she shot Gwen her pasted-on smile, as if to say, Is this what you want—am I acting friendly enough?
Samantha smiled. “It’s good to see you, too, Rosa. What a lovely red dress. My favorite color.” Samantha glanced back at Gwen with a wink, then bypassed Rosa.
“Well done, nicely rehearsed,” Gwen said, complimenting Rosa’s staged congeniality with an edge of sarcasm. “You’re an absolute pleasure when pretending to be pleasant.”
But Rosa wasn’t listening. Gwen saw her make the sign of the cross, her other hand clinging to the banister as if to steady herself as she watched Samantha pick up her drink in the foyer and continue outside. Gwen reached the last step, but Rosa’s rotund body was blocking further passage.
“Excuse me. Can I please get by?” And when she didn’t respond, Gwen tapped her on the shoulder.
Rosa jumped. “Dios mío!” And when she turned to Gwen her dark skin was as pale as a ghost, if that were possible.
“Rosa? What’s wrong? You look faint. Sit right here and let me get you water.”
“No, no, no!” she said, shaking her hands at Gwen. “I’m fine. You go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You look like you’re about to collapse.”
“It’s not me, it’s…”
“It’s what? Talk to me.”
Rosa clasped her hands and clutched them to her chest. “You get mad when I talk. Just go. Vamos!”
“I’m not mad, Rosa. I’m worried. Tell me what’s wrong before I call the paramedics.”
The front screen door opened and Isabel walked in, all smiles. “Aunt Gwen? Are you coming? We’re all waiting for you.”
“I’m on my way, honey. Go on out. I’m right behind you.” She waited for Isabel to leave and looked at Rosa’s face. Her normal color had returned. “What was all that about?”
“The espíritu,” she whispered. “It’s back…”
“Alley?” Gwen looked at her incredulously. “Rosa, dear, I don’t think so. You feel her, but I see her. And I haven’t seen her in a week. Even you said her spirit might have left.”
“Sí…it left with Señora Weller. Now they’re back…”
“But I…I was just with Sam. And I did not see Alley.”
“It’s hiding behind her.”
“What?” In the past twenty-four hours Gwen had seen all of Sam. She’d seen her from the front, from behind, and everywhere in between. “Please, Rosa, don’t do this. I have a crowd of people waiting and a party to attend.” Gwen pressed a palm to her forehead. “I cannot have this conversation now.” Gwen stepped off the last stair and pushed past her. “Stop calling Alley ‘it.’ And stop calling Samantha señora!”
“See? You tell me to tell you things and say you won’t get mad, and then I tell you and you get mad.”
Gwen took Rosa’s hands and squeezed them. “I can only imagine how hard you’ve been working for this party, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But you can relax now. Go have a good time with Eugene and Carlos, and enjoy the party. Let the waitstaff handle the rest, okay?” She kissed her on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m okay.” She let go of Gwen’s hands as Gwen walked away. “I just hope you and Señora Weller will be okay,” she said under her breath.
Gwen stopped and looked back. “What was that?”
“Nada,” Rosa said and followed her out.
Isabel was waiting on the lawn, and as soon as she saw Gwen at the door she signaled to the DJ. The music stopped, and his voice rang out through the speakers to ask for everyone’s attention. “Let’s give it up for the birthday girl!”
The people clapped and cheered as Gwen came down the porch steps. Samantha stood next to Liz, clapping and watching as Gwen began moving through the crowd, greeting guests with the grace of a socialite and the charmed reserve of a professor.
“I want to be her when I grow up,” Liz said. “She’s so classy. And she looks stunning…not to mention that healthy glow you’ve given her.” Liz nudged her with an elbow. “You’re glowing, too. I’m happy for both of you.”
“Thanks.” Samantha breathed a sigh of contentment. “Every relationship, every woman I’ve ever known…none of them compares to her. Do I dare call her mine? God, Liz…last thing I remember, I was off to the city by myself for a book signing…and then she showed up like something out of my wildest dreams, and…I can’t believe we’re together. Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming,” she said. And Liz did.
“Ow! That hurt.” Samantha rubbed her arm as a server passed them with a tray. Samantha took an Asian meatball on a toothpick, dipped it in sauce, and popped it into her mouth. “I’m starving,” she said, but when she turned to grab another, the young man had moved on.
Out of nowhere, Isabel came rushing over. “You must be hungry, Sam. Come on. There’s a delectable appetizer buffet under the tent. It’s been there for over an hour. Go make yourself a plate before they take it away.”
“I was just about to suggest that,” Liz said.
For all her naïveté, Isabel was very attuned and attentive, and Samantha had a strong feeling that she was far more observant and perceptive than she let on. She just didn’t know how to express her sensitivity. “Thanks, Isabel. I think I will.”
As the three of them walked toward the tent, the music picked up, and two young men dancing called out to Liz.
“My new best friends,” Liz said to Samantha. “The Latino one is Carlos, Rosa’s son. The white guy is Phillip, his ‘roommate’ from vet school.”
“Roommate? How convenient. They look like a couple.”
“Ya think?”
Isabel seemed shocked. “Oh, I don’t think so. They’ve been best friends for almost four years. Phillip even comes for Thanksgiving. And during winter break they come to ski because Phillip’s from Alabama, and it doesn’t snow much—”
Liz raised her brow. “Isabel, trust me on this, okay? Carlos and Phillip are lovers.”
Isabel’s entire body tensed. Even Samantha noticed it.
“Relax,” Liz said to her. “I didn’t say they were murderers. I said they were lovers. That’s a nice thing for people to be.” She shook her head in defeat, then looked at Samantha and crossed her eyes as if to say, now do you understand what I’m dealing with here? “Go eat, Sam,” she said, “and then meet us at the bar.”
Samantha went to the buffet, filled a small plate, and looked out on the lawn for a place to sit. People were leaving the cocktail tables, making their way to the bar and dance floor, and Samantha was headed for an empty chair when a deep voice called out her name. A good head taller than most everyone there, Bill Laraway appeared, waving at her over the crowd, gesturing for her to join him. As Samantha skirted her way around the people and tables, she saw him tap the shoulder of a black woman beside him. He said something to her and pointed, and the woman quickly put her fork down and patted her mouth with a napkin. The woman was tall as well, slim and model-like, with her hair pulled back in a chignon.
“Samantha! Please, join us,” he said. “I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Sheila, Isabel’s stepmother. I’m not much of a reader, so you’ll have to forgive me if your name wasn’t familiar. But my wife’s an avid reader, and apparently we have a few of your books hanging around our house.”
Immediately, Sheila offered her hand. “It’s a distinct pleasure to meet you, Samantha. I’m a fan of your work.”
“Why, thank you, Shelia.” Samantha put her plate down, noting the huge diamond on her ring finger and the diamond tennis bracelet on the wrist of the hand she shook.
“And I can’t believe I met the real Bertha earlier.”
“The party has her out of sorts,” Samantha said. She scanned the property and zeroed in on Bertha and her crow-friend across the lawn, quietly staring at her from the white branch of a birch tree. “If there wasn’t a commotion, she’d be on my shoulder, and you’d get to pet her,” Samantha said, and walked around the back of Shelia’s chair to shake hands with Bill.
He opened his arms and gave her a bear hug instead. “Thanks for holding on to my sister today…and for making her happy. Her attention isn’t easily captured, you know, but you seem to have all of it,” he said with twinkling eyes. “And by the way, that’s a beautiful necklace you got her.”
“Gorgeous,” Sheila added.
“And how was the Waldorf?” he asked.
“Bill!” Sheila said and gave him a look like he should mind his own business.
“What? I’m just talking about the hotel.” He looked at his wife innocently and then to Samantha said, “Your sister in-law and I were talking about the hotel’s art deco architecture and interior, and hoping most of it will be preserved during renovations.”
“Ah, my sister in-law…so you’ve met Liz,” Samantha said.
“We have.” His bottom lip protruded, and he squinted one eye and nodded as though he’d already made a careful assessment of his daughter’s would-be suitor. “She’s terrific. We had a wonderful conversation. She’s very attractive too…and very charming.”
“That she is,” Samantha said.
“We’re happy she and Isabel have connected. Isabel is finally coming into her own, albeit slowly, and I think Liz will help her.”
Sheila pressed her lips into a subtle woman-to-woman smile meant only for Samantha, and Samantha read the polite disclosure in that smile. Bill might have been clueless all these years, but it appeared that Sheila had long suspected Isabel would one day come out of the closet. And then intuitively, she shifted the conversation back to a more comfortable social level. She asked about the new book while they ate and, being in the advertising business, talked enthusiastically about the graphic design of Samantha’s book covers.
It appeared news traveled fast in the Laraway family, especially with Liz around to assist in the dissemination of that news. Both Bill and his wife now knew Samantha and Gwen were an item, that they’d spent the night together, and they couldn’t have been happier. Neither could Samantha. She hadn’t expected Bill to be this excited to see her, and Shelia’s warmth made her instantly feel like membership in the Laraway family had just been approved.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Here you are.” Gwen stood behind Samantha’s chair, delighted to see the three of them getting on so well. She put her hands on Samantha’s shoulders and smiled at her brother and sister in-law.
“We were having a nice chat,” Sheila said.
“I see. Isabel has us all sitting together for dinner, so you can chat more later. Do you mind if I steal Sam for a dance?”
“Not at all. We’re headed that way, too.” Sheila began dancing in her chair as the DJ made a segue from house music to classic disco. And when Patti Brooks’s “After Dark” started playing, she got up and looked at her husband seductively. “Come on, baby. Let’s burn some calories together.”
Bill looked at her with a stupid, crazy-in-love grin, and if Samantha hadn’t known they were married, she’d have thought they were newly together. He got up and regarded his sister with concern.
“Have you eaten anything other than the olives in that martini?”
Gwen put a hand to her stomach. “I had a few hors d’oeuvres, but I can’t handle much right now. I will at dinner.” She took Samantha’s hand then, and when they were out of earshot she said, “Come on. I want to show you off.”
“I’ve been lying low, not sure what to say if anyone asks how I know you.”
Gwen stopped short. “Sam, everyone here—colleagues, business associates, friends and neighbors—is here because they mean something to me. And anyone who means anything knows who and what I am. Most of them knew me while I was with Jean, and over the past few years many have made failed attempts to either set me up or talk me into online dating. Needless to say, they’re all dying to meet you.” She touched her necklace. “By the way…I’ve received many compliments.”
The caterer caught Gwen’s attention just then and pointed to plates covered with foil. “Isabel had me set aside plates for the dogs. Do you know what she wants me to do with them?”
The caterer was a fabulous chef who handled all the Laraway occasions. “Thanks, Irene. I’ll ask her right away.”
“Wait,” Samantha said and looked around. It took only a moment to locate the Scottie above the crowd. She was sitting way up on the porch, her black body and pricked ears outlined against the white house. Her eyes were locked on Samantha. Loosey was stretched out next to her, presumably asleep. “Would it be all right if I took their food to them? Blue was frightened of me before…it’ll be a peace offering.”
