Authors: Marcia King-Gamble
“Are you Ms. DaCosta?” a woman’s voice called from behind her.
Shayna turned to see a plump light-skinned woman dressed in a swishing skirt and cherry-red top following her. The woman eyed the carton she carried.
“I am,” Shayna confirmed, embarrassed to be caught snooping. “I thought I heard horses, and figured that Beau wouldn’t mind if I looked.”
“I’m Towanda Brooks, Beau’s housekeeper,” Towanda said, extending a hand.
Shayna grasped the woman’s chubby hand, surprised by the firmness of her grip. Beau had a housekeeper and stables. He was more loaded than she’d thought. He must have invested wisely.
“Mr. Beau’s waiting for you inside,” Towanda said, her gaze still fastened on the cardboard box. “That’s different.” She pointed to Beau’s gift.
“I thought it would be something he would enjoy.”
Towanda stared at her. “I didn’t expect you to be so attractive. You’re a physical therapist?”
Shayna smiled and raised a brow. “Physical therapists aren’t supposed to be attractive?”
Towanda’s cheeks glowed. “That’s not what I meant. I was expecting someone older. Miss Victoria said you—”
“Is Beau’s mom here?” Shayna interrupted.
“Mr. Beau’s parents were both here, up until a while ago.”
There was no point in encouraging the housekeeper to gossip but she might as well know what she was walking into. “Is there anyone with him now?”
“David, Mr. Beau’s agent is meeting with him. Come on, we’ll go inside.”
Towanda led the way toward an imposing wooden front door inset with copper. Looking out the glass window walls, Shayna spotted blue columbines and an attractive rock garden. The housekeeper pushed down on one of the copper handles and waited for Shayna to enter.
Shayna’s first impressions were of wooden cathedral ceilings and a living area that ran two tiers high. Artwork covered every inch of wall space, and artifacts the likes of which she had never seen before were strategically placed throughout the house. A winding wrought iron stairway provided access to both floors.
Shayna’s initial thought was that no way would Beau be able to navigate both floors. Then she noticed that movable ramps had been built to accommodate a wheelchair and give him access to most rooms. While she hovered at the entrance, a handsome blond woman came flying across the room, arms open wide.
“You must be, Shayna. I’m Victoria. Beau’s mom. Isn’t this a gorgeous home? Beau got really lucky. It was a foreclosure. I told him he needed to snap it up.”
“It’s great to meet you, Victoria.”
Shayna, cardboard box and all, was enveloped in a huge hug. Water sloshed over the rim of the container she carried. Shayna tried to gently disentangle herself. Her gift was still intact, thank God.
“Oh, my. Now look what I’ve done. Towanda, we’ll need a mop. Paper towels.”
Beau’s mom.
The words slowly registered. This blond haired, blue-eyed woman looked nothing like Beau. Yet she’d identified herself as such. It didn’t make sense unless of course Beau’s father was black.
Shayna set her carton with its precious cargo on the floor and that gave her time to think. She hadn’t been prepared for this. Not that she had a problem with interracial marriages. She straightened and accepted the napkins Towanda handed her, dabbing at the red silk blouse. There would be a huge water stain left, no doubt.
“So how do you think my boy’s doing?” Victoria asked, her tone lowered so Towanda wouldn’t hear.
“If Beau continues therapy and allows his muscles to get stronger his coordination should get better.”
“No promises, then?”
“No promises, but lots of optimism. I’ve worked with people far worse off than Beau and they made a full recovery.”
Brow knitted, she stared at Shayna. “You’re so young. Familiar looking too.”
Would Beau’s mom remember that eight years ago she’d been little Shay DaCosta, the media’s darling?
“Mom, is that Shayna I hear?” Beau called. His voice came from someplace in the rear of the house.
“Let’s go find my son,” Victoria said, waiting while Shayna scooped up her box. “He and David are out back, talking shop. Can you stay for dinner?”
Could she stay for dinner? Dinner hadn’t been a part of the plan. She’d come to drop off Beau’s gift and see how he was doing.
“I’m supposed to have dinner with my little brother,” Shayna said, though tempted by the invitation.
“Is he old enough to drive? Call him. Have him meet you here. If not, I can send Towanda to get him. We’re having barbecue. Beau’s agent David’s manning the grill.”
Shayna thought about it for a moment. It might actually be good for Reggie to meet Beau. It would give him bragging rights with the boys. Still, having dinner with a patient could be construed as crossing the line. But she wouldn’t just be having dinner with Beau, Shayna reasoned, she’d be sharing a meal with his friends and family. What could be wrong with that?
“Get the mobile, Towanda,” Victoria ordered.
The housekeeper went scurrying off, and Shayna was left to follow Victoria’s brisk steps to the outside patio.
Beau and David were in the middle of a heated argument when she joined them.
“How can I commit to shooting a coffee commercial in three weeks when I can’t even walk?” Beau questioned defensively.
David, seated on the redwood chair across from Beau, leaned in closer, his freckles prominent. “But that’s exactly it. Drinking coffee doesn’t require standing. Your attorney checked. The scene calls for you and an attractive young woman to be seated around a fireplace at a ski lodge. You’ll be sipping java and gazing into each other’s eyes. If the company tries to weasel their way out of our agreement, arguing that you’re paralyzed, we’d sue their pants off.”
“The public is expecting someone active and virile.”
“And you’re not? Where’s the confidence?” David’s freckles almost popped off his face.
“The client hired an athlete, a hotshot skier. Doesn’t the voice-over say something like ‘real men drink coffee on their downtime’?”
David laughed, then chugged his beer. “I’m glad you still have your sense of humor. That’s more like my old cocky Beau.”
Beau’s colorful expletive shut David up.
“Okay, boys, clean up the language,” Beau’s mom called. “We ladies are about to join you.”
Shayna and his mother headed toward them. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off his physical therapist. She was stunning. He wasn’t sure how much of the conversation she’d overheard. He had taken time with his appearance, ditching his comfortable old sweats, and putting on a designer polo shirt and loose-fitting Chinos. The outfit made him feel more human. Hospital garb got old.
Although the crisp evening air lent itself to a sweater, he’d draped one over his shoulders, looping the sleeves around his neck. Shayna was wearing a stylish pair of capri pants with a matching jacket. The jacket hung open and under it was a sky-blue camisole. She’d opted for flats and looked tinier than ever.
Again he had this huge urge to protect her. But Shayna didn’t need protecting. She could hold her own with the best of them. The carton she carried looked as if it might have survived a spill. Beau wondered what was in it.
“Hi,” he greeted, and quickly introduced David.
Shayna set the soggy box down on the patio table and accepted the hand David offered.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” David said. “Beau just never told me how pretty you are.”
Shayna batted her eyelashes, flirting back. She still hadn’t paid him much attention. He noticed that she scanned the surrounding area. He’d often heard it said that his home was impressive. That the view from the patio was something that one would expect to see on a movie set. Shayna obviously thought so too.
“She is, isn’t she?” his mother interjected. “Beauty and brains, a lethal combination. I’m trying to convince her to stay for dinner.”
“Can you?” Beau heard himself ask. Having Shayna for dinner would be an unexpected bonus.
“I’ve made plans to have dinner with my brother,” Shayna answered.
“But you were going to call and invite him to join us,” Victoria reminded her. “Where is Towanda with that phone?”
“Here, use mine,” David offered, removing a phone from his pocket and flipping it open.
Shayna promptly punched in the numbers. She held the phone to her ear for what seemed an eternity and ended up leaving a message.
“He’s not there,” she confirmed, returning the telephone to David.
Victoria flopped onto one of the vacant chairs. “Good that settles that. You’re having dinner with us.”
“I’m glad you offered to help Towanda barbecue, David, I’m whipped.”
“What’s in the box?” Beau asked, changing the conversation.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Shayna crossed over to the table and gingerly picked up what looked like two vases. Out of the top healthy-looking greenery grew. Swimming around their base were two colorful betas.
“What’s this?” Beau asked, looking at the swimming fish, who didn’t appear too happy.
“That’s Salt and Pepper. They needed a home. I thought, who better to care for them than you? Fish are very therapeutic and soothing to the nerves.”
“They’re cute. What made you think my nerves need soothing?”
Beau exchanged looks with Shayna while David sat quietly, observing them both.
“Did I say that?” Shayna quickly retorted.
“You didn’t have to.”
“Maybe it’s my nerves that need soothing,” Shayna muttered.
How different she was from Chandra. Chandra would never have thought to bring him fish. Chandra, rather than jousting back and forth, would probably have started a screaming match by now.
“Children,” Victoria called, “you’re beginning to sound like an old married couple. Before you really go at it, can I convince one of you to help David barbeque?”
Shayna immediately volunteered. Beau watched as she and David collaborated on how best to cook beef and roast potatoes, and serve up portobellos. Had things been different he would have been up there helping them. He used to make a mean barbecue.
As Shayna joked with his agent, Beau realized how easy she was to be with. Under different circumstances he and she might have had a chance but they’d started off on the wrong foot. Besides, he needed to remember that Shayna was his therapist. He had little to offer her now.
Even as a boy Beau had hated the idea of asking for help. Now it had come down to this, his being dependent on a therapist to show him how to walk again. He despised having to open up and let another human being in. He had no desire for anyone to see how helpless and vulnerable he was.
Towanda brought out napkins, cutlery, and plates, and quickly set the table. The tantalizing smell of barbecued beef filled the air as huge portions of food were forked onto each plate. David guzzled another beer, while he, Shayna, and Beau’s mom settled for iced tea. They’d asked Towanda to join them, but she’d declined.
Sunset coated the mountains in pinks and corals, turning what was left of the day a delightful pinky hue. Beau had missed this. Missed being home. A feeling of peace and contentment wrapped itself around him like a well-worn blanket. He heard Vodka, Scotch, and Whiskey neighing in the background. Tomorrow he would get himself down to the stables. His horses had probably forgotten him. At last he began to relax.
“Who’s overseeing Hill Of Dreams these days?” David asked, after coffee was served, and an incredible-looking carrot cake placed before them.
“My dad and the fellow I hired on as a manager.”
“How’s it going?”
Beau shrugged. He really didn’t know how it was going. He’d trusted his dad to ensure the place ran smoothly. There’d been frequent updates but he hadn’t paid attention.
His mother came to the rescue. “It’s going really well. ’Course the staff and people frequenting the center miss Beau’s monthly visits. I’ve assured them that once he gets well, he’ll be back.”
“Why don’t you visit?” David asked.
Shayna turned to Beau. “We said we would, didn’t we? I’ve heard so much about Hill Of Dreams, I’d really like to see it.”
David and Beau’s mom stared at Shayna openmouthed, and then quickly recovered.
“Do volunteers work there?” Shayna asked, an idea beginning to percolate.
“We exist because of volunteers.” This came from his mother. “Yes, I think you should visit. It’s always a good idea to see firsthand the work we do.”
“Let’s set a date then. How about Monday? We’ll substitute that for your normal therapy session.”
Victoria placed a hand on Beau’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “My son was put on this earth for a purpose. Ed and I knew it the moment we laid eyes on him. That’s why we wanted him so badly.”
Beau grunted. Shayna was probably exercising every ounce of restraint not to ask his mother to explain. Her brain must be going a mile a minute. Shayna was a bright woman. It shouldn’t take her long to put two and two together, unless of course she thought he was the product of a mixed marriage.
Shayna looked at them with interest. Speculatively. Curiously. She seemed to be about to ask a question and then changed her mind.