Deliver the Moon (7 page)

He waved off her comment.

“Really,” she said. “These people didn’t just come to see your work, they came to see you.”

“So?”

“So…” She faced him squarely, hands on hips. “This isn’t just about art, Mr. D’Angelo. It’s about marketing yourself. If you’re rude to them, they’ll be less likely to buy anything.”

“Funny, I don’t remember signing up for this lecture.” He nudged her in the shoulder.

She ignored the butterflies that danced through her gut from that simple gesture and touched his sleeve. “See that woman over there in the tight blue skirt? She’s the art critic for the morning paper. Go talk to her.”

He groaned. “Lou, I hate this kind of thing. You know that.”

“I know, but go over there anyway. I’m going to see how Gram’s doing.” Her gaze found her grandmother where she’d left her. Cedric Bowman sat on the bench beside her. The man’s deep chuckle and Gram’s throaty cackle floated through the crowd.

“Oh, I guess Gram’s okay,” Louisa said, turning to grab Gabe’s arm. “Come on. I’ve met that critic before. I’ll introduce you.”

By the end of the evening, she’d made sure he’d met and small-talked with every person who came through the gallery doors. And she’d bet he’d won a favorable review from her art critic friend.

“Have you two had dinner yet?” Gabe asked her and Gram when things had wrapped up. “I’ve been dining alone for almost a week and would love the company.”

Louisa knew him well enough to know he didn’t mind being alone. That had been part of their problem. As much as she was tempted to agree to the invitation, a bigger part of her knew it would be unwise.

“Are you paying?” Gram asked him.

Gabe chuckled. “You bet.”

Louisa hung back. “Oh, I don’t know. I really should get home.” Spending more time with Gabe wasn’t the smartest thing to do. “I have some work to—”

“She’s absolutely right. We should get home,” Gram agreed, surprising them. “I’m really not into restaurant dining anyway. Gabe, how about if Louisa whips us up something at her place?”

Louisa blinked. Gabe over to her house? For dinner? What was Gram thinking? It was way too suggestive, too—

“A home-cooked meal sounds great.” He pulled open the door just as they were hailed from behind.

“Frances Hargrove. Are you playing hard to get?”

They turned to see Cedric strolling across the polished wood floors.

“You’d wanted to see our other collections, remember? I told you I’d take you home afterward. Remember?”

Gram’s eyes widened. “Oh. Yes. Yes, of course.” She slapped her forehead. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m rather forgetful these days.” Turning to Louisa and Gabe, she said, “I’m sorry, kids. You’ll have to do dinner without me.”

Louisa hurriedly said, “Oh, we don’t mind waiting, do we, Gabe?” Gram’s moment of surprise and sudden enthusiasm were a bit unsettling.

Louisa could’ve sworn Gram winked at Gabe. A nervous twitch probably. “Actually,” he said, “I’m famished. Gram’s in good hands. Cedric will bring her safely home.”

Having dinner with Gabe was cause enough for panic. But being
alone
with him at her place…“Gram!” She grabbed the old woman’s arm. “You were just saying how tired you were. You really shouldn’t be staying out late—”

Gram slapped Louisa’s arm with her purse.

“Ouch!”

“Watch your tongue, missie. I’m not dead yet. Besides, did you ever think that maybe Mr., um—” she struggled to remember his last name, “Mr.
Man
here and I don’t want you two hanging around? Did you think that?” Her shrewd gaze swept over her granddaughter. “No, I can see you didn’t. Now shoo. Both of you.”

Chapter Four

Gabe’s rental car approached Seattle’s Queen Anne Hill as he followed Louisa’s directions to her home.

“Are you sure we can trust this Cedric person to bring Gram home okay?” she asked. “I mean, Gram’s old and—”

“She’s not a child you have to worry about leaving in the care of a sitter, Lou. She’s a grown woman. She’ll be fine. And, yes, Cedric’s a great guy. I’ve known him and his son for years. He’s been widowed for some time.”

“What does that have to do with anything? You don’t think he’s hitting on Gram, do you?”

Gabe shrugged, grinning. “Who knows, but that’d be great, wouldn’t it?”

“Gabriel, she’s almost 85 years old.”

“So?” He shot her a warning glance. “Like she said, she’s not dead yet.”

Not much had changed in this old neighborhood in the years he’d been gone. Same stately 19th century architecture, same affluent mansions. He noticed some trendy-looking new restaurants and businesses, a few more modern buildings, yet the area still managed to keep its welcoming, community atmosphere.

He and Louisa had spent countless hours exploring the area on foot, countless hours making out at Kerry Park.

Don’t go there.

“You live close to your parents?” he asked, relieved to hear normalcy in his voice.

“I, uh, sort of live at their house,” she said. She clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap.

“Sort of?”

She’d always depended too much on her parents—both financially and emotionally. That had been another of their problems.

“Remember the place my parents built for Gram, the little apartment behind the garage? That’s mine now. They made Gram move to the main house where they could keep a better eye on her.”

Gabe pulled the car into the alley beside the Rhodes’ residence. Louisa immediately jumped out and headed toward her little home, clearly agitated to spend time alone with him. He supposed he couldn’t blame her.

With a sigh, he climbed out of the car and followed a red-graveled path to Louisa’s front door. The little building was tucked into the backyard, within view of the Rhodes’ house except for the ivy-covered maple tree between the two buildings. Just as he remembered, the yard was perfectly manicured, looking like something in a magazine of award-winning gardens.

The Tudor-style home was just as big as he remembered and just as imposing. His memories of this place weren’t fond ones. He’d never felt welcome here, even though Louisa insisted he was.

After unlocking the door, she stood aside for him to enter. She flicked on the light, bathing the room in a soft amber glow.

“So…when did you move back here?” he asked. She was basically living at home again. It really didn’t surprise him.

She dropped her purse on the daybed and seemed intent on not looking at him. “After…you left, I was fired from my job because I couldn’t…Well, I wasn’t my old self, and they needed someone more stable, I guess. I, uh, couldn’t afford to keep our old apartment without a job, so my parents offered me this place free of rent until I could get my feet back on the ground.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “I’ve been meaning to move out for some time now, but…” She shrugged and looked away.

Didn’t he feel like the world’s biggest asshole? She was only living here because of him. She’d lost her job because of him. She’d lost everything because of him. “Lou,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

“I should change.” She yanked clothes out of her closet.

“I don’t have to stay.”

She stopped what she was doing but didn’t turn around.

“I know you didn’t expect Gram to invite me for dinner,” he said, “and now that she’s not even—”

She gave a nervous-sounding laugh. “Gram didn’t realize I have nothing but leftover spaghetti to offer you, but…I’m not going to send you away at this time of evening without dinner. That is, if you don’t mind leftovers.”

“I don’t mind.”

She headed to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway. “You can make yourself useful and turn the oven on for the French bread.” She shot him another wary glance before closing the bathroom door.

After doing what she’d asked, Gabe took off his tie and released the first couple of buttons on his shirt. Her home was very small, with one main room, a tiny kitchen, and even tinier bathroom off the far wall. But she’d decorated it in a cozy, friendly way. It looked like Louisa, very cheery with splashes of bright color here and there and very practical with a quilt- and pillow-covered daybed that appeared to double as a couch. A wall of bookshelves, heavy with books of every imaginable title and subject, told him this was definitely Louisa’s place.

An arrangement of framed photographs on a middle shelf caught his eye. He circled a wicker rocking chair until he stood directly in front of the twinkling eyes of his son. Joey’s dimples were pronounced as he grinned merrily into the camera, always a ham. He wore denim overalls without a shirt underneath. In a plump hand was one of Louisa’s paintbrushes, dripping with bright red paint. His other hand held a crumpled piece of newsprint he’d just pulled from the short easel set up in front of him. Gabe recalled it had taken forever to get that shot, because Joey kept trying to shove the paintbrush into his mouth, and Louisa kept batting his hand away from his face. Joey had managed to eat more than a little red paint that day.

As usual, when looking at old pictures, Gabe’s heart tightened almost unbearably as memories of everything he’d lost tumbled into his mind. Memories of laughter and joy, of love and tenderness. Of happiness.

What he wouldn’t give to have that all back again.

If his upbringing had taught him anything, he should have realized it was all too good to be true. He had it perfect once, and he blew it.

Gabe met his son’s merry eyes again, and his hands clenched at his sides. Would this gut-wrenching pain ever go away?

“Remember he knocked over your tripod right after that shot?” Louisa’s whispered voice was behind him.

Gabe swung around. She stood in the doorway of the bathroom, hugging herself. “You did everything to catch the darn thing before it toppled over, but then you caught your foot in one of the light cords and ended up falling onto the floor along with everything else.” Her smile was sad.

The memory was bittersweet, but Gabe couldn’t help chuckling. “Joey thought it was hilarious, didn’t he? Remember how his little cheeks used to shake whenever he laughed really hard?”

They both stared at Joey’s picture in silence, remembering.

“I miss him so much, Gabriel,” she finally said.

He let out a long breath. “Me, too.”

The sadness and pain in her eyes rivaled his. He wished he could cross the room and take her into his arms. Just hold her.

She’d changed into jeans and a white T-shirt. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her feet were bare. Gabe forced his eyes away. Seeing her like that made it easy to imagine time had taken them back. He remembered many a time he’d been scrounging through his clothes and the laundry for a certain T-shirt, only to find it in one of her drawers. She’d loved to borrow his clothes. Jeans and white T-shirts had always been her mainstay when she was at home. He was glad to see she hadn’t changed, at least in that sense.

“You want to help me pick the salad?” she asked suddenly, slipping her feet into white canvas tennis shoes.

“Pick the salad?”

“I have a little garden out back, just big enough for salad stuff,” she explained.

As they headed outside, Louisa motioned for him to be quiet. “My mother would have a fit if she knew I’d planted a vegetable garden in her yard,” she whispered, leading him around the corner of her little apartment. “I told the gardener I’d sabotage his shrubs if he ratted on me.”

Gabe grinned, strangely pleased she was doing something behind her mother’s back. Together, they harvested lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes from the weedless garden. Louisa plucked some strawberries for dessert. He chuckled as they reentered her house.

“What’s so funny?” She tossed their pickings into the sink and poured water over them.

Still smirking, he said, “The fact you have to sneak around your own house just amuses me.”

She smiled. “Well, you know how fanatical my mother is with her yard and gardens, but I figure what she doesn’t know…”

****

She should have known better than to worry about having Gabe here, Louisa mused as they sat down at her small table a little while later. He was the perfect gentleman, obviously not reading anything into the evening that wasn’t there. She was glad Gram invited him. It was good to see him. She sighed with a small smile and dug into her salad.

“It’s good to see you again, Lou.”

She licked a speck of dressing from the corner of her lips. His mind always seemed to be on the same wavelength as hers. It was unnerving, to say the least.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve sat across a table from each other,” he went on when she didn’t respond.

Since before you left me
. In fact, she couldn’t even remember the last time. That final year of their marriage, they’d been strangers at best. They’d rarely eaten dinner with each other, let alone do much of anything else together. Louisa’s lips thinned. The pleasant evening disappeared with the bad memories.

“I imagine Evan wouldn’t be too happy if he knew I was here,” Gabe said after the silence had stretched on a while.

She cut the spaghetti into manageable pieces with the edge of her fork. “Probably not,” she finally agreed, putting a small bite into her mouth.

“That’s quite a ring he got you.”

She dropped her left hand to her lap, for some reason wanting her engagement ring out of sight.

“It’s a far cry from the one I gave you, isn’t it?” Gabe’s tone was light, but she knew his expression wasn’t, even without looking at him.

She shrugged off his question, not telling him that the ring he’d given her, although inexpensive and small, was just as priceless as Evan’s was spendy. She also didn’t tell him that his ring was still inside her jewelry box, tucked carefully into a velvet compartment in the back.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Gabe said, “Tell me about you and Evan.”

She paused in her chewing. After swallowing, she asked, “What do you mean?”