Making a Comeback (27 page)

“Wow,” Liz said, her steps slowing. “The lobby is a huge atrium. Palm trees and plants everywhere, exotic birds in cages and on perches. Oh, my gosh, there are penguins over there.”

“Would you rather stay here?” She tried to visualize the lobby from Liz’s description. She’d been in hundreds of fancy hotels, but everything was new and exciting with Liz.

“Me and Hannah in one room? Disaster waiting to happen.”

Good. Jac wanted to soak up every minute of this Labor Day weekend with Liz, the end of an idyllic six weeks since the day she’d first played with her. Long days of walking, sharing music, relaxed evenings with Peg and Roger. Friendship she’d never had. When they returned on Monday, Liz would stay in San Jose. Her classes started Tuesday. Jac would see her at band rehearsals until Monterey. Maybe on weekends after that. It wouldn’t be the same, and she dreaded the impending change.

“Let’s get a picture of the three of you for Peggy,” Jac’s dad said.

She smiled, but only because Liz’s arm was around her waist. She didn’t like having her picture taken, but she couldn’t blame Peg for wanting to be part of this trip. Their relationship had shifted recently, like some barrier between them had come down. They’d talked a lot about the accident and the aftermath, cried a lot. Some strain that Peg always seemed to carry was gone.

“Lizzie!” Hannah joined them. “This is my friend Kerri. She’s reserved a table for us in the bar, but I need to borrow Lizzie. We’ll catch up with you.”

Jac took her mom’s elbow as they walked, wondering what Hannah was up to now. She’d planned all sorts of surprises to make the weekend special for Liz.

“I can’t get over the fact that you’re here,” her mom said. “And hearing you play with Liz this afternoon…we can’t wait for Monterey. Maybe it’ll be the start of a new career.”

“Not performing.” It had been grueling when she had her sight. “I might produce albums.” She was getting inquiries from some notable names in jazz. She still had moments when guilt settled heavily on her, but she was slowly accepting that Liz was right—it had been a tragic accident and she wasn’t to blame. It was a better life than she’d thought possible.

*

“Stop tugging on it, Lizzie,” Hannah said as they walked down the sweeping staircase to the bar. “You look beautiful.”

Who was she to argue with Hannah’s fashion sense? “This hotel is kind of over the top.” Postcard views everywhere she looked, and the tropical ambience was intoxicating.

“It’s supposed to be. Fun and fantasy. That’s what a tropical vacation is all about.”

“I forget I’m the only one who hasn’t had one.” The bar was like something out of a movie with dark rattan furniture, lazily circling ceiling fans, and containers of tropical plants that gave it the sense of being a secluded hideaway. An aquarium took up the far wall. She recognized some of the fish she’d seen while snorkeling that afternoon. It was one of the best things she’d ever done.

“Doesn’t Jax look yummy?”

“She’s not a dessert.” More like a cool drink—yellow pants and a pastel lime-green, sleeveless top. Yes, Peggy had outdone herself. Shorts and sleeveless fuchsia blouse this afternoon, and a midnight-blue swimsuit cut high on the hip that accentuated her shapely legs.

“Oh, come on. She might be a great trumpet player, but she’s drop-dead gorgeous. And that outfit…” Hannah gave a long low whistle.

“I saw it.” Geez, enough already. “Can we go shopping tomorrow? I want a new swimsuit.” Maybe some new shorts and blouses.

“You’re the birthday girl. Just not too early.” Hannah sat next to Kerri, who greeted her with a tasteful kiss. They were a stunning couple—Hannah in an open-backed halter dress perfectly accessorized, looking every bit the sophisticated world-class chef; Kerri, suntanned and dark-haired, with an equally eye-catching dress.

Liz took the chair between Jac and her mom.

“You look lovely,” Susan said. She was an older version of Jac and Peggy—slender, blond, blue-eyed.

“Tell Jax what you’re wearing,” Hannah said.

“Sundress. An early birthday present.”

“Green that matches her eyes,” Hannah said. “Fit-and-flare silhouette, cutout back, scoop neck, spaghetti straps. Knockout.”

Liz felt a blush creep up her throat. Shorter and cut lower than she would have bought, but she had to admit she felt beautiful. Hannah taking time away from her reunion with Kerri to buy her a present was a sweet gesture.

“To beautiful women,” Frank said, lifting a reddish-colored drink. Blond and blue-eyed, he looked every bit the laidback islander in the Tommy Bahama shirt under his linen sport coat.

Liz took a sip from the glass in front of her. Peachy, with a tang. Tropical. Was there alcohol in it? She couldn’t taste it and took another long sip. Tropical vacation. Fun and fantasy.

“Here’s to Sex on the Beach,” Kerri said, lifting her glass.

Liz swallowed wrong and started coughing. Jac patted her on the back.

“The name of the drink,” Hannah said. “Although…” She kissed Kerri, longer this time, then whispered something in her ear that made Kerri smile. Conversation shifted to best snorkeling beaches.

Jac leaned close. “I wish I could see how beautiful you look. Is that new perfume?”

“Birthday gift, too.” Time for something new, Hannah had said, dabbing a bit of the delicately tropical fragrance on her throat. She squirmed on the seat. The new thong panties took some getting used to.

“I like it.”

“Picture time,” Frank said, pulling out his phone. They scooted their chairs together and the waitress took their group picture. After another round of drinks, they walked across to the restaurant.

“Wow. I think that’s my word for the weekend. The restaurant…” Was a whole other kind of tropical. The super-romantic kind.

“Can you add some adjectives?” Jac squeezed her elbow.

“It’s laid out like a pavilion. Dark except for candlelight. White tablecloths and place settings. Floor-to-ceiling wooden panels are folded back so the restaurant opens onto a large pond. View to the ocean beyond it. Palm trees, plants, a rock wall along the right that has a waterfall.”

She pulled out Jac’s chair and sat next to her. A waiter set another round of cocktails on the table, and Kerri ordered appetizers. “Two white swans are floating in the middle of the pond. Moonlight is reflecting off the water…” She let out a sigh, wrapped up in the beauty of the moment.

“Sounds romantic.”

It was, and Liz’s throat tightened. The swans nuzzled each other. Teri would say, “Like us, mated for life.” But that wasn’t true. The ache sucked the air from her lungs, and she put her hand over her chest. It hurt to be here without her.

Jac put her arm across the back of her chair and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry Teri’s not here with you.”

“I don’t know why we never made time for a trip like this.” Jac’s hand was hot on her sunburned skin.

“I have a whole list of things I would have done if I’d known I’d lose my sight. It’s hard when the future isn’t what you expected. I’m here for you if you want to talk about her.”

“Thank you.” Jac’s friendship was the best kind—supportive without being intrusive, and she knew plenty about grief. “You know what. I’m on my dream vacation with my best friend and my sister. Teri would tell me to have fun, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” She held up her cocktail. “To Jac and Hannah for making my birthday special.”

Cocktails and delicious food kept coming, and vibrant conversation kept her attention. For the most part. But then she’d notice the swans and the ache would capture her again. Finally, the meal came to an end. Liz took one last look at the swans as everyone got up to leave. She stood, then gripped the back of her chair as the room swayed. Or she swayed. Okay, there was alcohol in those drinks. When Jac took her elbow she said, “I’m a little unsteady. You should walk with one of your parents.”

“Too much Sex on the Beach?” Jac’s eyebrow was raised.

“Remember what happened the first night I had dinner with you?” She wasn’t repeating the fiasco of tripping, maybe hurting herself again or, worse, Jac.

“I’ll take better care of you this time.” Jac put her arm around Liz’s waist.

“Anyone up for dancing?” Frank asked when they were back in the lobby, spinning Susan around gracefully. “I know a great place.”

“Definitely,” Hannah said, pulling Kerri close.

“Definitely,” Liz echoed. Her mind was a gentle fog, and she felt like she was floating. “I love it here.” She sucked in a lungful of the warm, humid air that hung gently around her. She felt beautiful, not the sad mess she’d been for so long. She closed her eyes and then snapped them open as she tilted toward Jac, who steadied her with a hand to her stomach.

*

The bar was in a strip mall, unassuming outside and in. Not tropical, and for a moment Liz wanted to protest.

“Not fancy,” Frank said, “but great dance music.” Several people called to Jac’s parents as they commandeered a table next to the dance floor. A middle-aged couple in matching Hawaiian shirts swiveled their hips and flipped their arms to eighties rock.

“How about another round of Sex on the Beach?” Frank suggested, taking off his sport coat, giving the full view of the big yellow flowers on his olive-green shirt.

“Sure.” The fuzzy edge of Liz’s buzz was wearing off, and she didn’t want it to. This wasn’t great dance music.

When drinks had been delivered, Frank went to the jukebox, a sly smile on his face. A minute later Ellington’s “Take the A Train” sprang from the speakers.

“We teach swing-dancing classes here,” Susan said, sashaying out to the dance floor and into her husband’s arms.

“Let’s show them our stuff.” Liz took Jac’s hand. Swing dancing. Yes! She loved this vacation. She heard Kerri say, “I can’t dance to this.”

Oh, but I can.
“Dance floor’s fifteen-by-fifteen, your parents, and one other couple.” They’d only danced at Peggy’s Memorial Day and Fourth of July parties, but she’d never danced so easily with anyone. Jac spun her out, and there was just that swing beat, her feet moving to its sassy rhythm, and Jac’s hands reeling her in, pushing her out, never letting go.

Another song began, and Jac swung her around to the new rhythm. She felt happy and beautiful, and this was the best vacation ever. They got a lot of looks and she couldn’t stop smiling. Someone said, “Those two are terrific dancers.”
Yes, we are
. Jac was smiling, too, her face flushed. They were good together.

The song ended and the next one started. Frank Sinatra. “Just in Time.” One of her mom’s favorites. Hannah held Kerri, and Susan moved into Frank’s arms.

“I love this song,” Jac said, pulling her close, cheek-to-cheek close.

“Me, too.” Jac’s thigh was a light pressure against Liz’s crotch, her hand gentle on her bare back. In Jac’s arms, dancing felt like soaring, and she melted into it. Jac hummed near her ear and she closed her eyes. Everything faded but the music and the delicious sensations of being in Jac’s arms. Warmth and softness everywhere. Her lips found the corner of Jac’s mouth—

The music stopped and Liz froze, trembling, too hot. Lipstick on Jac’s skin. Hers. Oh, God. Her stomach tumbled. “I need some air.” She stepped out of Jac’s arms and hurried out of the bar, gulping in air, embarrassed, confused by the feeling in her chest. The wrong feeling. Oh, God. She’d almost…She paced and fanned her face, trying to cool down. Damn this tropical air.

“Why’d you run off like that?” Hannah fell into step beside her. “You and Jac make a stunning couple.”

“I can’t feel this. I can’t.” It came out as a choked sob, and Liz crossed her arms against the evidence puckering her dress. Damn the new lacy bra Hannah had given her.

Hannah stared at Liz’s chest and her face softened. “Lizzie…it’s okay to let yourself feel again.”

“It’s not!”

“So you’re attracted to Jac. A little vacation romance. Can’t you let it be okay?”

“Teri deserves better than me getting—” Tears filled her eyes and her nipples were still hard and she hated this vacation.

“It’s going to happen sooner or later, Lizzie.”

“Don’t call me that.” She turned her back to Hannah. “I don’t feel well. I’ll take a cab back to…” Hell, she had no idea how to get to Jac’s parents’ home. “She hasn’t even been gone a year.”

“Would it matter if it was next year? Ten years from now? When are you going to let yourself live again?”

Liz whirled on Hannah, rigid with anger. The anger faded when she saw the sadness on Hannah’s face.

“I miss her, too, but not letting yourself live doesn’t bring her back.”

She’d said the same thing to Jac about Stephanie. No, it wasn’t the same thing. How could she be in Hawaii and need Kleenex? She didn’t resist when Hannah held her, trying so hard not to want it to be Jac’s arms around her. But Jac wasn’t safe anymore. “I am living. I’m playing and composing and—”

“Keeping busy. Just like Dad.”

“So what? I’ll be like those…” She sucked in a breath, desperate for composure. “Swans. They mate for life. They’re loyal. If one dies—”

“Teri wanted you to keep living.”

“Not this. She didn’t mean this. Music. Monterey. She meant for me to go on with our dreams.” Monday they’d be home. This would go away. “I can’t talk about this.” She’d be back in the condo. Back in her life where she belonged. Damn this vacation that had tricked her into feeling something she shouldn’t. “Please make sure I don’t dance with her again,” she said as they walked into the bar.

“You can have Kerri. My toes are numb from being stepped on.”

“I think she’s hopeless,” Liz said, grateful for the change in topic.

“Who cares if she can’t dance? In bed she has great moves.”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“You could be, too. Don’t let the past strangle the present.”

Liz went to the bar and ordered an iced tea. She wanted to chase away the feeling of blurred edges.

“Are you all right?” Jac was next to her, her voice as tight as her face.

“Fine. Sorry. With the alcohol I got too hot.” Did Jac know she’d been about to kiss her? Liz couldn’t look at her. That funny feeling in her chest wouldn’t go away.