Left Turn at Paradise Page 16

  He either didn’t notice the tension or he was choosing to ignore it. “How is your grandmother doing?” he asked as he came closer.

  “She’s good. Still tired, but glad to be home finally.” She glanced back at Annaliese. “So where have you guys been?”

  Annaliese jumped at the chance to break the tension. “We drove over to Sarasota to pick up a few things.”

  “What was in Sarasota?” Layla asked.

  “Come see.” Annaliese darted around Layla and practically skipped to the far end of the stage. Then she pushed back a curtain to reveal what looked like a very tall garage door.

  Layla stared at it in shock. “Where did this come from?”

  “It’s always been here,” Grayson said, having come up behind her. “It’s used to bring in set pieces.”

  So saying, he leaned down and unlatched the door. Since said door hadn’t been moved in years, Layla and Annaliese had to help open it. Layla looked outside and realized the workshop was only about ten feet away.

  She suddenly felt like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole. “Why didn’t I know this was here?”

  “Guess you didn’t know what to look for,” Grayson said.

  Movement caught her eye, and she swiveled her head to find a short, dark-haired man standing by a moving truck parked near the door. “Who’s that?”

  “That’s Manuel.” Grayson waved the other man over. “Manny, this is my boss, Layla McCarthy.”

  The man dipped his head. “Hola, senorita.”

  “Hola,” she said. “Lo que está en el camión?”

  It was Grayson’s turn to be surprised. “You know Spanish?”

  She shrugged. “Enough to get by. It was almost a necessity in Miami.”

  “Manuel is here to get our flies in order.”

  “Our what?”

  “The flies in the wings.” Grayson pointed to the maze of ropes on the sides of the stage. “Those winches need some serious attention if we’re ever going to use them to fly in sets.”

  Layla blinked and tried to comprehend what he was saying. “Oh…of course.”

  Annaliese’s laugher floated over like it was carried on wind chimes. “Gray, slow down, and try to remember that not everyone has spent his or her whole life around theatres. We’re scaring the boss with our talk of winches and flies.”

  Layla wished Annaliese wouldn’t try to help. Her explanation made Layla feel even more foolish.

  Grayson offered her an apologetic shrug. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to leave you behind. I’ll show you.”

  He led her around the back of the truck, and Layla saw it was filled with stage lights. Hundreds of them. Some were individual; others were attached on long metal poles.

  Grayson jumped up into the truck. “And wait till you see this.”

  He pushed aside some of the lights to reveal a large, cannon-like object. Exactly like the one that had exploded. “A new spotlight!” Layla exclaimed.

  “Never complain that I don’t come bearing gifts, dear,” he said, flashing a boyish grin. “We also have a new lighting and sound board coming. Should be delivered tomorrow.”

  He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. So pleased with himself – and so sexy – that Layla had to tamp down the urge to jump him right there in the loading dock.

  Instead, she focused on the bounty he’d presented. “Where did you get all this, and how much did it cost me?”

  “A theatre in Sarasota was closing down and they were selling off everything for a steal. As to how much it cost, nothing. This is all on me.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I can’t accept something like that.”

  Annaliese draped an arm around Layla’s shoulder. “What Gray meant to say was that the two of us chipped in together.”

  Which was somehow even worse. “That’s very generous, but—”

  Annaliese squeezed hard enough to cut off Layla’s air supply. “Just say “thank you” and take it as the gift we intend it to be.”

  “Thank you,” Layla managed to choke out.

  Annaliese smiled. “Great. Want to help us unload everything?”

  Noah emerged from the workshop, and they all spent the next hour emptying the moving truck. Then Grayson and Annaliese got to work hanging the lights. Layla tried to help. They showed her how to attach the lights. How to cut the colored gels, and how to insert them into the removeable frames that went on the front of the lights.

  Mostly, she fumbled her way along. Meanwhile, the thespians were able to carry on complex conversations without missing a beat. Conversations that consisted mostly of…

  “Do you remember that awful show in St. Louis…?”

  Or…

  “How about that neurotic director of that off, off, off Broadway show…”

  Or…

  “Did you ever work with…”

  Grayson and Annaliese knew all the same people. Could rattle off names of obscure shows with ease, and were constantly trying to stump each other in their own version of theatre trivial pursuit. They almost spoke another language. One Layla didn’t know or understand. She realized she really didn’t know much about Grayson. She knew the basics, but not what made him tick. He and Annaliese could finish each other’s sentences, and they had such an easy affection.

  Layla couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more between Grayson and Annaliese. How could there not be? They came from the same world. Layla and Grayson might as well have been from different planets.

  Beth walked by with a pitcher of iced tea and some plastic cups. She hunkered down and poured a glass for Layla. “You’re thinking too much,” Beth said.

  Layla’s head snapped up. “What?”

  “Just because you have different interests doesn’t mean you have nothing in common.”

  Layla went back to changing gels. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Layla, why do you think Grayson is doing all this?” she asked, gesturing to the mess on the stage.

  So, she wasn’t going to let her avoid this conversation. Fine. “The challenge, I guess.”

  Beth let out a disgusted sigh. “Here’s the thing, honey. If there’s one thing all my years of wild living taught me, it’s that men don’t talk about their feelings. They prefer to show them.” She leaned closer. “Everything he’s done today is for you.”

  “Lighting equipment?”

  Beth chuckled. “Some guys use flowers or jewelry. Others go outside the box. Grayson knows what The Paradise means to you, and he’s doing his best to see it restored. I wouldn’t worry about Annaliese, either.”

  “Why? Don’t you think they’re better suited? Just look at them.”

  They both turned in time to see Annaliese give Grayson a little shove. He faked falling over, but caught himself in time.

  “They act like squabbling siblings,” Beth said.

  “Really?” she asked, in disbelief. “That’s what you get from them?”

  “Yeah. Besides, Grayson doesn’t look at her the way he looks at you.”

  “How does he look at me?” she asked like a middle-school girl asking if the cute boy ever mentioned her.

  “Like he was just released from prison and has been assigned Pamela Anderson as his parole officer,” Beth said on a slow drawl.

  Layla rolled her eyes, even as she tried to deny the thrill that coursed down her spine. “He doesn’t look at me like that.”

  “Not while you’re looking he doesn’t. Oh, and he can’t stand your best buddy Noah. Ask yourself why that is.” With that, Beth flashed one more grin and resumed passing out her tea.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Barbara stepped outside and was immediately engulfed by thick, damp air. Most people grumbled about the merciless heat in the summer. Many escaped to the mountains or a beach retreat in the Carolinas. Today, Barbara welcomed the humidity.

  She was outside. Granted, she was only on the front porch, but she could still see the sun and feel the breeze. She could hear a s
quirrel chattering above her head. Watched a blue jay dive-bombing a cat that had slinked too close to the nest.

  She smiled.

  The screen door gave a wrench as Grace walked out carrying two glasses of lemonade. “Well, don’t you look like a queen,” she said.

  “More like the court jester,” Barbara said.

  “Hush. You look splendid.” Grace joined her on the porch swing, and handed Barbara one of the glasses. “You’re feeling okay? Coming out here wasn’t too much? If you feel faint or you have any pain, you tell me, and we’ll go back inside. Don’t try to be brave. You—”

  “Grace…stop!”

  She jumped. “What?”

  “You’re doing that nervous babbling thing,” Barbara said. “Aren’t you the one who insisted I come out here? Get some fresh air, you said.”

  Grace fixed a carefree smile on her face. “Of course, I’m just making sure you don’t overdo it.”

  Barbara studied her sister. Something was definitely going on. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the energy to sort it out. “Other than feeling like a limp dishrag, I’m fine,” she said. “I can’t believe how much effort it took to get this far.”

  Grace patted her sister’s hand. “Your strength will come back. Give it time. I think I know what will help, too.”

  “What?”

  She clasped her hands together and bowed her head as if in prayer. “Well, there is a reason I wanted you to come out here.”

  “You mean other than fresh air?”

  “More like a fresh start.”

  Barbara’s suspicions returned in full force. “Grace, I’m too exhausted for puzzles. Tell me what’s going on. Why are you acting so skittish?”

  “I’ve done something Layla won’t like.”

  “Layla?” Her heart sped up, but she didn’t stop to worry. “Grace, tell me right now.”

  Anxiety etched across Grace’s features, and she worried her hands together, clenching and unclenching her fingers in a ceaseless movement. “I promised Layla we would wait to tell you, but things can’t go on like this anymore. You’ve suffered enough.”

  Not reassuring. What had her sister done? “Now you’re scaring me.”

  “But it’s not scary,” Grace insisted. “It’s wonderful. A wonderful, amazing miracle.”

  She might have gone on prophesizing about the amazing miracle, except a beat-up yellow car pulled into the driveway.

  Grace went rigid. “She’s here,” she whispered.

  “Who’s here?” Barbara asked, in a near whisper herself, though she didn’t know why.

  Grace smiled. A wise, and suddenly calm, smile. “It’s your miracle, Barbara.”

  With a puzzled frown, Barbara looked back at the car. The driver’s side opened, and a woman emerged. She was tall and extremely thin, with close-cropped dark hair, short enough that she almost looked like a newly arrived military recruit. She had on khaki slacks and a collared, navy-blue T-shirt.

  She looked over at that moment. Green eyes. Familiar green eyes.

  Barbara had heard accident victims describe a kind of vacuum where everyone moved in a sort of suspended animation. When no sounds or smells invaded the senses, only bodies moving in slow motion. As she stared at the woman, Barbara suddenly understood the sensation.

  Elizabeth.

  Barbara gasped in stunned disbelief, the sound almost harsh in the stillness.

  Elizabeth smiled, and her eyes filled. “Hi Mom,” she said, in a voice so soft the sound seemed like part of the breeze.

  Barbara would know that smile anywhere. “Gracious Heavenly Father,” she whispered. “You brought her back.”

  Barbara got to her feet, and then her daughter was running up the steps and flew into her arms.

  “Oh my God. Bethy. Thank you God, thank you, thank you.” Tears clawed to the surface, cleansing all the hurt and anger like rain drops washing away dirt. “Oh, my baby. I can’t believe it.”

  Barbara was dimly aware of Grace hovering nearby, tears streaming down her face, too. She murmured something and then disappeared inside. The screen door creaked again, but all Barbara could focus on was her daughter.

  “I’m so sorry, Mommy,” Elizabeth sobbed.

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  Barbara pulled back to get a better look at the daughter she hadn’t laid eyes on in over thirty years. Her heart seized as she took in Elizabeth’s pale skin and hollow cheekbones.

  “You’re sick,” Barbara said, running a doctor’s eye down her daughter’s emaciated frame.

  “No.”

  “Don’t tell me no. What’s wrong with you?” Anguish flooded her. “Dear Lord, is that why you’re back? Are you dying?”

  Elizabeth gripped her mother’s arms. “Mom. It’s okay. I’m better. Really.”

  A degree of panic lessened, but Barbara’s fear didn’t diminish completely. Elizabeth might be all right today, but she hadn’t always been. “Cancer?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Breast.”

  Pain gripped her at the thought of what her daughter must have gone through. Surgery, chemotherapy, radiation. Drugs that did almost as much damage as the cancer itself. “Oh baby. Are you sure they got it?”

  “For now. That’s all anyone ever promises.”

  Barbara reached up to touch the short, spiky growth on Elizabeth’s head, a testament to everything she’d been through. “Your beautiful hair,” she said, remembering how Elizabeth had loved having the golden tresses brushed. “You were always so proud of it.”

  “I should have been proud of me, not my hair or my body. I needed to be reminded of that so it was all taken away.”

  “Why did you wait? You should have come when you were diagnosed.”

  “I wasn’t ready. I needed to deal with my illness and myself. Fixing everything that was wrong with me was a lot harder than the cancer, actually.”

  Barbara steered her daughter toward the porch swing. “Come and sit down. You shouldn’t be standing.”

  “Me?” Elizabeth shot back. “What about you? Are you sure it’s not too soon to be out here after your heart attack?”

  “My doctor says I should—” She paused, eyes narrowing with confusion. “How do you know about my heart attack?”

  Elizabeth looked away. “I’ve been in town for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “I told you…a while.”

  A familiar combination of frustration, confusion, and anger flooded through her. “What have you been doing? Why didn’t you tell me you were here before now?”

  “I didn’t know how,” Elizabeth said, tears flooding her eyes. “I came back because I needed to make my peace with you. I had all these grand plans. I’d walk up to the house and ring the doorbell, but the minute I drove down the street I lost my nerve. I pulled over, and sat in the car staring at the house, trying to come up with something I could say that wouldn’t get the front door slammed in my face.”

  Is that what Elizabeth had really believed? That she’d be rejected? “Honey, I would never have done that.”

  “I had no way of knowing how you’d react. For all I knew, you’d spent the last thirty years hating me.”

  “I could never hate you,” Barbara burst out. “Never. How could you think that?”

  “Because I was a terrible daughter. I did everything wrong. I ran off with Layla, and when I couldn’t handle it anymore I dumped her on your doorstep. I couldn’t be a mother to her. I was too messed up, and I had nothing. No money, no job, no place to live.”

  “Elizabeth, do you have any idea how many times I’ve cursed myself over what I did? You needed me, and I wasn’t there for you. I was supposed to be your mother. I should have protected you.”

  Elizabeth reached for Barbara’s hand. “Mom, no one could have protected me from myself. I made the choices, not you. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Of course it was. I have longed for this day for so long. I just can’t believe you kept yourself hidden.”

  “I never
meant to hide. I was planning to announce myself, but then you came out with Layla, and I panicked.”

  “My neighbor saw you,” Barbara said, suddenly remembering Larry Conklin’s rambling. “Sitting in your car. He tried to tell me that day at church.”

  “And that’s when you had the heart attack.”

  Barbara could see the conclusion her daughter had made about that. “You didn’t cause that. It could have happened at any time. I’d felt symptoms for several days, but I ignored them. How do you know about that anyway?”

  “Aunt Grace called me.”

  Grace. She seemed to be behind everything. “How did my sister get involved in all this?”

  “I tracked her down at the church after her quilting circle,” she said, with a little grin. “Thank goodness she never changes.”

  “Yes. Everyone needs a Grace in their lives.”

  “She told me to come to the house after church. I was here when she called to tell me you’d been taken to the hospital. I was still officially incognito, but I had to find out how you were. So, I went to the hospital and met Aunt Grace outside. Unfortunately, Layla saw us.”

  “Layla knows you’re here?” Barbara asked in surprise.

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yeah, and she’s not happy. She blamed me for your heart attack. Didn’t want me anywhere near you. Grace wanted to tell you right away, but Layla was scared that you could have a relapse.”

  “Have you seen Layla at all?”

  “Well, that’s another story,” Elizabeth said, with a wry grin. “Grace strong-armed Layla into letting me work at The Paradise as her assistant. She agreed, but she’s not happy about it. I’m not sure if she ever will be.”

  The statement was so frank, and so unlike the old Elizabeth. She’d changed in many ways and not just physically. She seemed more grounded. More at home in her damaged body than she’d ever been in her perfect one.

  “I’m so sorry,” Barbara said.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m the one who needs to beg forgiveness. You were right about me. You told me over and over.”

  “No. I was wrong,” Barbara said on a strangled cry. “I judged you as harshly as anyone. You were so special, and I made you feel worthless.”