“Wonderful. We’ll have it tomorrow. I’ve been in this horrid wilderness for nearly four days and so far all I’ve seen of it is beds. It’s no use your talking, Trisha. We are going
“There was a debate between a suit or the spangled kind of T-shirt I don’t seem to own,” Kern said blandly. “I didn’t really know if you would have to prove how healthy you are by insisting on a club, Mother, or whether a simple restaurant would do-”
“Let’s not be sarcastic.” She added disparagingly, “Probably all you have in this place is a simple restaurant. I’m not difficult to please, Kern, although I do prefer a decent wine list…”
Kern parked on a side road off the main drag in Gatlinburg. Further down the road neon signs flashed a tourist’s dream of motel choices, promising everything from waterbeds to the newest movies, in-room fireplaces and live entertainment. Where the three of them walked were the shops, a clustered melange of attractive stores offering everything from imported Italian sandals to X-rated T-shirts. Christian Dior labels were back-to-back with a Native American crafts store, French antiques, Danish cheeses…
“Perhaps we’ll go shopping tomorrow, Trisha,” Julia said thoughtfully, glancing suddenly at her daughter-in- law’s pantsuit. “I haven’t seen that before, have I? A marvelous color on you. So while I was stuck in the hospital you went shopping, did you?”
Trisha let go of Julia’s arm long enough to divest her purse of a tiny wrapped package. “For you,” she said mildly.
“To make up for forcing me into that place,” Julia suggested, but her eyes softened on Trisha. “Well…thank you, Patricia. I’ll open it when we get to the restaurant, if we ever do, Kern.”
He stopped in front of a windowless brick-front building with a half dozen steps leading down to a glossy black door, unmarked and all but unnoticeable if it hadn’t been for a single gas lantern shining on the steps.
“A basement, Kern?” Julia asked pleasantly. “I wish I could say I was surprised.”
“Do you want to spank her or shall I?” Kern murmured to Trisha as a black-suited waiter led Julia first to a small corner table.
The impulse was to laugh. It took willpower to reject it, willpower not to share even an understanding smile with him when she knew they were both feeling equal quantities of exasperation and sheer joy at Julia’s improved health. But it wouldn’t do, Trisha knew, being drawn into that orb of male dominance, and she moved deliberately ahead of him, pretending not to see the way his eyes suddenly narrowed in catlike challenge.
Her attention was honestly captured by the restaurant in seconds. A manmade waterfall divided a small dance floor from the dining area, the sparkle of water through colored lights making rainbow prisms on the beamed ceiling. The pianist was playing semiclassical music, his touch gentle and relaxing. The wall as they’d come in was completely filled with wine racks, the bottles tilted, labeled so that anyone could choose their own. Candles and starched white linen, the sponge of soundless carpet and the heavy dark beams above, shadows and the irresistible pastel lights in the waterfall…it was all lovely.
Trisha was seated, suddenly conscious that Kern’s fingers lingered on her shoulders as the waiter seated his mother. “I would have taken you somewhere else, but you did specify a wine list, mother,” he drawled. “If you object to the ‘basement,’ though-”
“Sit down, sit down. Stop making a fuss,” Julia said, scolding him, but the steel eyes were taking in the entire scene with the same undisguised pleasure that Trisha showed. With a sigh Julia settled back, allowing them all to relax while drinks were ordered. Her own wine she had chosen herself, a rose from the Loire Valley. Trisha obediently ordered the drier pinot noir that Julia knew she would like. But Kern, predictably, listened to no one, insisting on his favorite whiskey straight up. “Well,” Julia said finally as she sipped her rose and looked at both of them, “are the two of you getting along?”
Trisha twirled the dark wine in her glass, watching the flame’s reflection on the glass. “Of course we’re getting along,” she offered smoothly, not looking at Kern across the table from her. To expect Julia not to probe at the earliest opportunity would have been to expect rainbows served for breakfast. “And we’ve both been looking forward to showing you the area. I have all kinds of ideas for you…”
Throughout almost all of the dinner course, Trisha coaxed at Julia’s interests, paying no attention to the dark- eyed man who persisted in disturbing her by staring from across the table. The Tennessee mountains were loaded with little out-of-the-way barn shops that sold antiques-one of Julia’s loves. Clothes she liked as well, and Gatlinburg was not averse to stocking for expensive tastes. There was a professor at the camp who played bridge, as did Trisha; they only needed a fourth. And as far as the garden club Julia belonged to at home… “There’s nothing to compare with what’s here, darling, and June just couldn’t be a better time. There are people who make annual pilgrimages here just to see the rhododendron in bloom. All over the heaths there’s mountain laurel and Dutchman’s-breeches…”
“One would almost gather you’re taken with this place yourself, Patricia,” Julia commented curiously.
Trisha heard the buildup of enthusiasm in her own voice, and became quieted. It was for Julia’s sake, of course, and if there was a chance Julia would be happy here she would do her best to help, as she’d promised Kern. But he mustn’t misunderstand. The waiter served coffee and after-dinner liqueurs. Trisha sipped at hers while the other two talked. The pianist inadvertently kept drawing her attention; from classical pieces he had switched to old, romantic love songs. Songs of lost love, forsaken love, loneliness, hope; melodies generations old in composing, timeless in theme…
“It’s lovely, Patricia!”
Trisha drew her attention back to the tiny jade rose in Julia’s palm, the present she had all but forgotten. “I thought you would like it,” she said softly.
“It’s just exquisite.” Julia sighed with pleasure. “I’ll have to forgive you both for the last two days, I suppose. Kern, I see the bandage is off your wrist, even if that scar still looks dreadful. What do you think, Trisha? You haven’t told me whether or not you find Kern changed in five years.”
No, Julia wasn’t going to let it go, Trisha thought wearily. Her eyes met Kern’s over the wineglass for the first time since dinner started. The candlelight played with his face, too, found hollows and valleys in the craggy features, reflected a soft texture to his beard and an untamed glint in his eyes. “He’s changed a great deal,” Trisha said lightly, her defenses bristling at that look. “We’ve become such good friends that he’s even suggested I stay a little longer-that is, assuming you’d like to, Julia. Whatever you feel like doing will be fine by me.” She suddenly had the ridiculous feeling that she should never have used the phrase “good friends.” Ice barriers were a little different than thrown gauntlets, but then it was said, too late to take back.
“Well, I would like to stay for a least a few days, perhaps a week,” Julia said vaguely with a faint frown. Trisha knew her answer was not quite what the older woman wanted. “And you, Kern,” the older woman persisted determinedly. “You must be surprised at how much Patricia has changed…”
“Very,” Kern agreed shortly. His features were still fixed on Trisha’s, and with a sudden restiveness he stood up, offering his hand to her across the table. “You don’t mind if we dance for a few minutes, Mother?”
Trisha shook her head. “I really don’t think-”
“What a marvelous idea,” Julia said cheerfully. “Take your time, both of you. I’ll be perfectly content here with another cup of coffee. I like to rest for a while after dinner; you both know that.”
His hand grasped hers, urging her up. Trisha felt all but herded to the far end of the room that contained the dance floor, the polite smile she had worn all evening for Kern now oddly fixed on her face. There were only two other couples on the floor. The pianist glanced up from his moody love song to smile lingeringly at her, but Kern whirled her around to face him. She sensed impatience and a sudden virulent voltage at his nearness that she ignored, as she had ignored it for hours, as she was going to continue to ignore it.
He hooked both of his hands at her waist, forcing her fingers to rest on his shoulders or be left awkwardly hanging in midair. She caught her breath when his fingers laced behind her, locking them breast-to-chest. “Kern, I think we should be taking your mother home. It might be too long an evening for her…”
“She’s fine for fifteen minutes. The question is whether you can last that long, keeping that polite distance you’ve guarded all afternoon.”
She drew in her breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His hand slipped up her back to the nape of her neck, and she found her arms around his waist. His fingers splayed in the soft disorder of hairstyle to force her face up to his. “You’re more honest when you don’t talk at all, Tish. So don’t.” It was an order and a warning; no smile touched his sensual mouth. His weathered cheekbones were taut and a sudden graven stillness came upon him. He stared down at her with eyes like liquid rock, and she
