The Complete Where Dreams - Volume 2 of 2

Chapter 19-3

Perrin had found a new level of “completely nervous” that she’d never known existed. If she could have called back to beg off, she would have. But if she called on Bill’s phone, she’d get Bill. And she didn’t have the numbers for the kids’ emergency-only cell phones. Her level of nerves definitely ranked as emergency, the national-level kind, call out the Red Cross and the National Guard.

She couldn’t even think of what to wear. She almost called Maria before deciding that she just needed to breathe deeply. She wasn’t going to dinner with the King and Queen, no matter how it felt. A dress was too far over the top. A skirt probably too much as well.

What would she wear for a casual evening at home? Tattered and faded Vassar College sweatpants and a fleece hoodie sweatshirt were her usual first choices. Too far the other way. She really needed to get a grip.

Perrin finally settled on jeans and sandals with some crazy-colored socks that Patsy had made for her from something she called magic yarn, the opera t-shirt, and the fleece hoodie just because she needed the extra level of security.

She was fifteen minutes early and drove past the house to park on a back street to just sit and wait. As the minutes stretched, her nerves became so bad, she knew she wouldn’t make it the whole time without deciding to go home. With five minutes to go, she drove up to the house.

Perrin had sat in the kitchen once before, after dropping off Tammy, but she’d been too wired to notice much. Now she was so hyped up that she noticed everything.

Their house was in the Greenwood neighborhood, just a few miles north of downtown; a remodel of a remodel of a remodel Bill had informed her. The street was steep and narrow, enough room for two cars to pass, if they were careful and everyone parked close to the one curb that had parking.

The blue-gray two-story house with forest-green shutters and trim had a surprising amount of privacy in the crowded neighborhood. It stood on a rise a dozen steps above street level behind a massive old hawthorn tree. The porch light was on and she could see the living room light through the original diamond-cut window.

When she klonked the big brass door knocker, it felt as if it echoed throughout the quiet neighborhood. “Here be an interloper!” it announced. The desire to turn and run surged through her again, defeated by being too nervous to do any running. She thought she heard someone call out, “Dad, can you get the door?”

Oh crap!

Then the door was open. Bill stood there, backlit by the bright living room and looking really, really good in bare feet, jeans, and an open flannel shirt over a blue t-shirt.

“Perrin?” he barely managed a whisper.

She might have to kill Tamara and the conspiring Jaspar later, but for the kids’ sake, she took the bit. Clearly it was up to her to make it work.

“I was invited to dinner by your children. That is, if you’re willing to invite me into your house.”

“The kids?” His eyes widened and his jaw dropped like in an old, silent movie.

She tried to fight down the smile, but knew she wasn’t succeeding. “I brought a salad.” Perrin held out the covered bowl as if that would make everything make sense.

Bill closed his mouth, then both his eyes. He opened one as if checking that she was still standing there. Then he looked up toward the ceiling, “Thank you, God.” He almost launched himself at her, but stopped when she warned him off with a slight shake of her head.

His careful nod acknowledged both the wisdom and the regret of that choice. Then he held open the door and she walked in.

“Well at least that explains the lasagna mystery.”

She looked over at his whisper.

“It’s Tammy’s signature ultra-special-occasion dish. She cooks a couple nights a week to help me out, but we don’t get her lasagna very often. It’s good. That little sneak.”

The front door opened right into the living room. It was comfortable rather than being austere. More bookcases than art. A couple of well-used couches and chairs sat on a rug that had definitely seen years of children. A big, octagonal coffee table that appeared to have sixteen different projects on it, as well as three relatively clear spaces where they probably set their dinners on most nights. A big television hung to one side, though not one of the monsters—available, but not the center of attention. She could easily see them all hanging out here together.

Bill took the salad bowl, brushing her hand as he did so. The electric shock shook her. Distance and time had increased her reaction to him rather than decreased it. Standing here, barefoot in the center of his domain, he was so incredibly, perfectly male. His eyes darkened just looking at her. Well, at least that hadn’t changed between them.

Perrin turned away to continue the tour.

A wide, carpeted stairway led up to what must be the bedrooms. Off the other side of the living room, was a pair of rooms connected with an open arch.

“Our offices, though they spread bigger projects out over the dining room table for weeks at a time. We actually don’t get to eat at it much.” Perrin peeked in. Two smaller desks were in the front part of the room. They were mostly neat, though it was easy to see which was which. The wall around Tamara’s had numerous fashion magazine photo spreads torn out and taped up. The growth looked fairly recent. Jaspar’s was actually neater, mostly dinosaurs and a half-dozen well-done model airplanes dangling overhead from bits of thread. A book open on the desk had a diagram just like the one Richard had been using to map out his stage lighting design.

Beyond the arch, was Bill’s larger desk, that looked as if it had been hit by a hurricane. A new facet to the man, so terribly organized in his public life. She liked that he had a messy side.

“It’s all so…normal, Bill. You’ve made a magnificent home for them.”

He stood beside her looking about the room as if he’d never seen it before. His glance at her registered that he was aware in this moment of just how different it was from her own childhood, and that maybe she could judge better than he did.

“Think about it. How many kids share an office with their dad?”

“I, uh… It just seemed the right way to use the space when I did it.” Then he finally nodded, acknowledging that maybe he hadn’t done so badly after all, as if there was any doubt.

On the far side of the living room from the front door, they stepped into the connected dining room and kitchen, separated only by a long counter with a gap in the middle. It was the only part of the house she really remembered from her prior visit. Last time Jaspar had been asleep, or had been pretending to be, Tamara headed that way, and the front room was dark. Now there were lights on everywhere and an oldies station playing.

Bill rolled his eyes when he saw her noticing it. It was as if the kids thought she and Bill had been adults in the 1960s rather than the twenty-first century.

Jaspar greeted her with a quick wave from where he was busy half-tossing a fourth setting at the table one-handed. Apparently that was all he was willing to offer, but she was glad to wave back.

“Scamp,” Bill accused him and received back a glowing smile for his insult.

Tamara ran out of the kitchen area and, after only the briefest hesitation, threw herself into Perrin’s arms. They held each other hard, like sisters too long apart. She kissed Tamara on top of her head. Then, continuing to forget all of her hard-won thirteen-year-old decorum, Tamara rushed back into the kitchen to make sure everything was all right.

The last room was a big space beyond the dining room. It had tools, toys, some miscellaneous furniture, and a forlorn-looking vacuum cleaner. A room they didn’t use much.

“The house was really too big for us, but the kids fell in love with it, and it’s right near a very good school.”

Perrin smiled slightly as she moved to help Jaspar light candles and Bill headed into the kitchen to assist his daughter. Perrin only now noticed that once through the door, she’d relaxed. Somehow, all of her nerves had remained out on the porch.