Midnight Bayou (30 page)

“Come on, it hasn’t been that long.” He crouched, held out a hand. “Remember me?”

Witless grinned the dopey grin that had named him, instantly flopped down and rolled to expose his belly for a rub.

“There you go. That’s the way.”

There had always been a dog for this house. Always a boat at the dock, a rocker on the porch and a dog in the yard.

“Yeah, you remember me.” As he stroked Witless, he looked over to the far end of the yard where Anna had planted a hydrangea over the grave of his own dog. The loyal and much-loved Foolish.

“I’m Seth,” he murmured. “I’ve been away too long.”

He caught the sound of an engine, the sassy squeal of tires from a turn taken just a hair faster than the law allowed. Even as he straightened, the dog leaped up, streaked away toward the front of the house.

Wanting to savor the moment, Seth followed more slowly. He listened to the car door slam, then to the lift and lilt of her voice as she spoke to the dog.

Then he just looked at her, Anna Spinelli Quinn, with the curling mass of dark hair windblown from the drive, her arms full of the bags she’d hefted out of the car.

His grin spread as she tried to ward off the desperate affection from the dog.

“How many times do we have to go over this one, simple rule?” she demanded. “You do not jump on people, especially me. Especially me when I’m wearing a suit.”

“Great suit,” Seth called out. “Better legs.”

Her head whipped up, those deep brown eyes widened and showed him the shock, the pleasure, the welcome all in one glance.

“Oh my God!” Heedless of the contents, she tossed the bags through the open car door. And ran.

He caught her, lifted her six inches off the ground and spun her around before setting her on her feet again. Still he didn’t let go. Instead, he just buried his face in her hair.

“Hi.”

“Seth. Seth.” She clung, ignoring the dog that leaped and yipped and did his best to shove his muzzle between them. “I can’t believe it. You’re here.”

“Don’t cry.”

“Just a little. I have to look at you.” She had his face framed in her hands as she eased back. So handsome, she thought. So grown-up. “Look at all this,” she murmured and brushed a hand at his hair.

“I meant to get some of it whacked off.”

“I like it.” Tears still trickled even as she grinned. “Very bohemian. You look wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Oh boy.” She sniffled, shook her head. “That’s no way to get me to stop all this.” She swiped at tears. “When did you get here? I thought you were in Rome.”

“I was. I wanted to be here.”

“If you’d called, we would’ve met you.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He walked to the car to pull the bags out for her. “Cam at the boatyard?”

“Should be. Here, I’ll get those. You need to get your things.”

“I’ll get them later. Where’s Kevin and Jake?”

She started up the walk with him, glanced at her watch as she thought about her sons. “What day is this? My mind’s still spinning.”

“Thursday.”

“Ah, Kevin has rehearsal, school play, and Jake’s got softball practice. Kevin’s got his driver’s license, God help us, and is scooping up his brother on his way home.” She unlocked the front door. “They should be along in an hour, then peace will no longer lay across the land.”

It was the same, Seth thought. It didn’t matter what color the walls were painted or if the old sofa had been replaced, if a new lamp stood on the table. It was the same because it
felt
the same.

The dog snaked around his legs and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“I want you to sit down.” She nodded to the kitchen table, under which Witless was sprawled, happily gnawing on a hunk of rope. “And tell me everything. You want some wine?”

“Sure, after I help you put this stuff away.” When her eyebrows shot up, he paused with a gallon of milk in his hand. “What?”

“I was just remembering the way everyone, including you, disappeared whenever it was time to put groceries away.”

“Because you always said we put things in the wrong place.”

“You always did, on purpose so I’d kick you out of the kitchen.”

“You copped to that, huh?”

“I cop to everything when it comes to my guys. Nothing gets by me, pal. Did something happen in Rome?”

“No.” He continued to unpack the bags. He knew where everything went, where everything had always gone in Anna’s kitchen. “I’m not in trouble, Anna.”

But you are troubled, she thought, and let it go for now. “I’m going to open a nice Italian white. We’ll have a glass and you can tell me all the wonderful things you’ve been doing. It seems like years since we’ve talked face-to-face.”

He shut the refrigerator and turned to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get home for Christmas.”

“Honey, we understood. You had a showing in January. We’re all so proud of you, Seth. Cam must’ve bought a hundred copies of the issue of the
Smithsonian
magazine when they did the article on you. The young American artist who’s seduced Europe.”

He shrugged a shoulder, such an innately Quinn gesture, she grinned. “So sit,” she ordered.

“I’ll sit, but I’d rather you caught me up. How the hell is everyone? What’re they doing? You first.”

“All right.” She finished opening the bottle, got out two glasses. “I’m doing more administrative work these days than casework. Social work involves a lot of paperwork, but it’s not as satisfying. Between that and having two teenagers in the house, there’s no time to be bored. The boat business is thriving.”

She sat, passed Seth his glass. “Aubrey’s working there.”

“No kidding?” The thought of her, the girl who was more sister to him than any blood kin, made him smile. “How’s she doing?”

“Terrific. She’s beautiful, smart, stubborn and, according to Cam, a genius with wood. I think Grace was a little disappointed when Aubrey didn’t want to pursue dancing, but it’s hard to argue when you see your child so happy. And Grace and Ethan’s Emily followed in her mother’s toe shoes.”

“She still heading to New York end of August?”

“A chance to dance with the American Ballet Company doesn’t come along every day. She’s grabbing it, and she swears she’ll be principal before she’s twenty. Deke’s his father’s son—quiet, clever and happiest when he’s out on the water. Sweetie, do you want a snack?”

“No.” He reached out, laid a hand over hers. “Keep going.”

“Okay then. Phillip remains the business’s marketing and promotion guru. I don’t think any of us, including Phil, ever thought he’d leave the ad firm in Baltimore, give up urban living and dig down in St. Chris. But it’s been, what, fourteen years, so I don’t suppose we can call it a whim. Of course he and Sybill keep the apartment in New York. She’s working on a new book.”

“Yeah, I talked to her.” He rubbed the dog’s head with his foot. “Something about the evolution of community in cyberspace. She’s something. How are the kids?”

“Insane, as any self-respecting teenager should be. Bram was madly in love with a girl named Cloe last week. That could be over by now. Fiona’s interests are torn between boys and shopping. But, well, she’s fourteen, so that’s natural.”

“Fourteen. Jesus. She hadn’t had her tenth birthday when I left for Europe. Even seeing them on and off over the last few years, it doesn’t seem . . . it doesn’t seem possible that Kevin’s driving, and Aub’s building boats. Bram’s sniffing after girls. I remember—” He cut himself off, shook his head.

“What?”

“I remember when Grace was pregnant with Emily. It was the first time I was around someone who was having a baby—well, someone who wanted to. It seems like five minutes ago, and now Emily’s going to New York. How can eighteen years go by, Anna, and you not look any older?”

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” She laughed and squeezed his hand.

“I’ve missed you, too. All of you.”

“We’ll fix that. We’ll round everybody up and have a big, noisy Quinn welcome home on Sunday. How does that sound?”

“About as perfect as it gets.”

The dog yipped, then scrambled out from under the table to run toward the front door.

“Cameron,” Anna said. “Go on out and meet him.”

He walked through the house, as he had so often. Opened the screen door, as he had so often. And looked at the man standing on the front lawn, playing tug-of-war with the dog over a hunk of rope.

He was still tall, still built like a sprinter. There were glints of silver in his hair now. He had the sleeves of his work shirt rolled up to the elbows, and his jeans were white at the stress points. He wore sunglasses and badly beaten Nikes.

At fifty, Cameron Quinn still looked like a badass.

In lieu of greeting, Seth let the screen door slam behind him. Cameron glanced over, and the only sign of surprise was his fingers sliding off the rope.

A thousand words passed between them without a sound. A million feelings, and countless memories. Saying nothing, Seth came down the steps as Cameron crossed the lawn. Then they stood, face-to-face.

“I hope that piece of shit in the driveway’s a rental,” Cameron began.

“Yeah, it is. Best I could do on short notice. Figured I’d turn it in tomorrow, then use the ’Vette for a while.”

Cameron’s smile was sharp as a blade. “In your dreams, pal. In your wildest dreams.”

“No point in it sitting there going to waste.”

“Less of one to let some half-assed painter with delusions of grandeur behind its classic wheel.”

“Hey, you’re the one who taught me to drive.”

“Tried to. A ninety-year-old woman with a broken arm could handle a five-speed better than you.” He jerked his head toward Seth’s rental. “That embarrassment in my driveway doesn’t inspire the confidence in me that you’ve improved in that area.”

Smug now, Seth rocked back on his heels. “Test-drove a Maserati a couple of months ago.”

Cam’s eyebrows winged up. “Get out of here.”

“Had her up to a hundred and ten. Scared the living shit out of me.”

Cam laughed, gave Seth an affectionate punch on the arm. Then he sighed. “Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch,” he said again as he dragged Seth into a fierce hug. “Why the hell didn’t you let us know you were coming home?”

“It was sort of spur of the moment,” Seth began. “I wanted to be here. I just needed to be here.”

“Okay. Anna burning up the phone lines letting everybody know we’re serving fatted calf?”

“Probably. She said we’d have the calf on Sunday.”

“That’ll work. You settled in yet?”

“No. I got stuff in the car.”

“Don’t call that butt-ugly thing a car. Let’s get your gear.”

“Cam.” Seth reached out, touched Cam’s arm. “I want to come home. Not just for a few days or a couple weeks. I want to stay. Can I stay?”

Cam drew off his sunglasses, and his eyes, smoke gray, met Seth’s. “What the hell’s the matter with you that you think you have to ask? You trying to piss me off?”

“I never had to try, nobody does with you. Anyway, I’ll pull my weight.”

“You always pulled your weight. And we missed seeing your ugly face around here.”

And that, Seth thought as they walked to the car, was all the welcome he needed from Cameron Quinn.