In His Dreams Read online

  Bonnie swung back and struck Jeff’s shoulder.

  He wrapped his hand around her fist and held her still. “Bonnie, the ice cream was almost gone. If you can behave, we’ll go to Aunt Marsha’s. If you can’t, we’ll stay home. It’s your choice.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks until her shoulders finally sagged and she lifted her head. “Aunt Marsha’s.”

  “Good choice.” Relief spread across his face and he gave Marsha a grateful look.

  She released a stalled breath that had nearly burst from her lungs. Although Jeff had handled Bonnie well this time, the situation broke her heart as she imagined his need for patience.

  Marsha opened the car’s backseat door and pulled out her two bags of groceries. Now that Jeff and Bonnie had agreed to come for dinner, she’d added a few treats to her shopping list.

  She hit the remote lock, then chuckled to herself. Who’d steal her car? Crime was nearly nonexistent on Beaver Island.

  Hoisting the two bags in her arms, Marsha headed for the house and maneuvered through the doorway. She plopped the bags on the kitchen counter, noticing her sister sitting on the same sofa and in the same spot she’d been when Marsha left.

  “Guess who I saw in town?” Marsha asked.

  Barb lifted her head and lowered her novel. “I have no idea.”

  “Jeff and Bonnie.”

  Barb’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

  “Don’s brother, Jeff Sullivan, and his daughter. You remember them.”

  She nodded. “It’s been a long time.” She refocused on the novel.

  “They’re coming over later for a swim and joining us for dinner.”

  Marsha watched the book inch downward as Barb peered at her from over the pages. “Dinner? I thought we were here to relax and—”

  “Dinner’s nothing fancy, Barb. Spaghetti with jar sauce. I’m not cooking a five-course meal.”

  Barb drew in a lengthy breath. “I guess you can do what you want.” She lifted the book, then lowered it again and gave Marsha an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. You know I’m not always comfortable with small talk.”

  Small talk. Marsha had to clamp her mouth shut from saying something hurtful like Lately you’re not one for any talk. She lifted her shoulders without comment and pulled groceries from the sacks. As she folded the paper bags, Marsha tried again. “Have you been outside? It’s a beautiful day.”

  “Too many bugs. I went out for a minute.”

  Marsha grabbed a magazine from a table and headed toward the sliding door to the deck. “I’m going out. You can join me if you’d like.” She stepped outside, glanced back in at Barb, who didn’t budge, then slid the door closed.

  Disappointment settled over her. She sat on the wooden steps leading toward the sandy path to the beach and gazed at the blue-green water lapping against the sand. White foam rose on the waves, then dissipated. Marsha bowed her head. Lord, give me an idea what to do. Ignore Barb? Don’t take it personally? What should I do?

  She flung open the cover of her magazine, then added an amen as if she’d forgotten her talk with God had been a prayer. What did people do who needed someone to talk with and didn’t have the Lord? She couldn’t imagine.

  An article on healthy eating caught her attention and, the next time she looked at her watch, Marsha realized her company would arrive in less than half an hour.

  Pushing herself up from the hard plank, she stepped onto the deck and went inside. Barb had left the sofa and stood in the kitchen, rummaging through the groceries. Barb opened a cellophane package and took out a handful of cookies. “What time are you eating?”

  “About six.” She watched her sister and wondered what she was thinking. “Jeff and Bonnie will be here soon if you’d like to swim.”

  “No thanks, but I’ll help with dinner.”

  Pleased with her offer, Marsha patted Barb’s arm. “Thanks.”

  Barb jerked as if startled. “You’re welcome.” She pulled a cookie from the wrapper and popped it into her mouth.

  Marsha hesitated a moment, addled by Barb’s wavering attitude—standoffish one minute and cooperative the next. She longed to make things better between them. Not knowing what else to do or say, other than the thanks she’d already said, she headed into her bedroom and opened a dresser drawer. She stared into it, pondering which swimsuit to wear.

  Barb’s bedroom door thudded closed, and Marsha figured she’d hibernate there until Jeff and Bonnie had gone down to the beach. Again, her thoughts darkened. What could she do to make life different for Barb? They were so opposite. Barb’s life seemed to stagnate while hers…What? It had been stagnating, too, hadn’t it, these past years?

  Jeff rose in her mind. He hadn’t said much about himself, except when it related to Bonnie. Yet one admission had slipped out. He’d said he felt lonely. Loneliness did strange things to people. She nearly became a bear with her hibernation—except hers was year round. She let so many things slip past since Don had died.

  Marsha shook her head to get rid of the dark thoughts. Today, she wanted to enjoy herself and not dwell on the past. The past just held people back from the future.

  She chose her pale blue swimsuit, dressed and, as she tugged a beach cover over her head, a car door thudded in the driveway. Her pulse skipped and she paused, trying to make sense of her excitement. It was only Jeff and Bonnie, but the company pleased her.

  Jeff’s tap sounded on the door, and she grabbed a beach towel from her bed, then opened the door. “Come in,” she called down the short hallway. She shut the bedroom door and hurried to greet them.

  Jeff stood outside dressed in khaki shorts with a navy T-shirt on top and a towel draped around his broad shoulders. His skin already showed a rich tan. Marsha gazed down at her white legs and grimaced. Maybe a few sunny days could change that. Maybe a few sunny days could change a lot of things.

  Jeff held the door open, waiting for Bonnie. She ambled in, and he glanced at Marsha with a look that sent her pulse skipping.

  What was that? The sensation startled her. She drew her eyes away from his and forced herself to focus on her niece, though her gaze kept shifting to Jeff’s tall frame. “Ready for a swim?” she asked Bonnie, trying to sound normal.

  “Ready,” Bonnie said, dragging her beach towel along the linoleum.

  “Ready.” He shifted beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder. The warmth ran down her arm.

  “Everyone’s ready then,” she said, amazed at the feelings that were beginning to weave through her.

  Jeff gave her a smile.

  She smiled back, yet wondered how ready she really was.

  Chapter Two

  “Please pick up your towel before you trip over it,” Jeff said, touching Bonnie’s shoulder as they followed Marsha toward the sliding door.

  Marsha gestured for him to go ahead, and he did, wondering if coming here had been a mistake. He felt strange accepting an invitation to his brother’s cottage without his brother being there. He’d always been fond of Marsha. They had a great bond when Don was alive, and he always found her attractive and charming, but now things had changed. He had changed. They had changed.

  Bonnie bounded down the deck stairs, her towel once again sweeping along the sand. He let the matter go. Instead, he studied Bonnie, pondering Marsha’s comment at Daddy Frank’s earlier that day. He gave a shudder. Bonnie was no longer a little girl. Her behavior seemed to have stood still, but her body had turned into a young woman’s. The situation scared him. How could he explain life to her as her body matured but her behavior didn’t? How could he be both father and mother to a teenage daughter?

  Marsha stood beside him as he scanned the bay, watching the water’s slow, sun-tipped ripples. A sweet scent wrapped around him like spring rain in a flower garden. He drew in the pleasant aroma, remembering the familiar fragrance that Marsha always wore. They had been a foursome—Marsha and Don, he and Marilou. The memory wrenched his heart. Today, they were two, standing by the same rolling water on the same beach—but without so much of what they’d had before.

  His thoughts meandered away from the past to the present. The sun’s rays glinted on Marsha’s red hair. It fell in long curling waves below her shoulders, so heavy and full he wondered what it weighed. He flinched, wondering why he was calculating the weight of her hair like a sheep farmer selling wool. The preoccupation filled him with discomfort. Marsha wasn’t just anyone. She was his brother’s wife—his deceased brother’s wife. His stomach tightened as a flood of guilt washed over him.

  He turned away and found a patch of wild grass mingled with wildflowers and dropped his towel. He drew in another breath. Maybe it was the wildflowers he’d smelled earlier, but the aroma had faded where he stood.

  “Bonnie, put your towel here,” he called, then realized it was too late. She’d already pulled it into the surf undulating along the beach.

  As Marsha dropped her belongings beside his, the sweet fragrance returned, twisting his emotions. He hurried away toward Bonnie, took her towel and gave it a toss onto the dry sand.

  When Marsha neared, her eyes captivated him, a metallic-blue that deepened as he studied them, enhanced by the color she wore.

  He realized she’d noticed him gazing at her and heat rose up his neck. He stepped into the water and shivered as the cold water hit him, trying to recover from his embarrassment.

  She sent him a warm smile that could take the iciness out of even the coldest lake.

  Rubbing her arms, Marsha waded into the chilly water. The deeper the water, the faster she rubbed, as if the friction might warm the water rising up her legs.

  Jeff fought to keep his gaze from Marsha as she forged into the deep water. He garnered courage and dived beneath the frigid waves. When he shot up, he let
out a howl, then laughed.

  Marsha followed suit and dived beneath the ripples. When she bobbed up, she let out a yell mingled with a laugh.

  Shifting his gaze to Bonnie, Jeff felt guilty he’d nearly forgotten to keep an eye on her. She trudged toward him deeper into the lake, and his concern rose, knowing she wasn’t a good swimmer. “Careful,” he called. “Wait for me.”

  “I can do it myself,” Bonnie said.

  When he reached her, he took her arm. “Let me help you.”

  Bonnie jerked away. “No.”

  He swallowed his frustration. “Bonnie.”

  “No. I can swim by myself.”

  He feared a tantrum. They erupted at unexpected times, and she’d been well behaved for so long he knew the cork would blow soon. He hated for Marsha to witness it again. She’d seen too much already at Daddy Frank’s. He reached toward Bonnie. “Let’s swim together. Okay?”

  Bonnie pushed away from him and tried to run, but she stumbled and slipped beneath the water, her arms flailing above her head.

  Jeff reached for her and pulled her, coughing and sputtering, to the surface. He wanted to say I told you so, but he knew that would solve nothing. “Deep water can be dangerous. Right?”

  She nodded and coughed again.

  “Take my hand,” he said.

  “No,” she cried, swinging away from him.

  In frustration, he glanced toward Marsha and saw her bouncing in the water toward them. Bonnie spotted her and, her tantrum forgotten, she laughed at Marsha’s antics.

  “We’ll go out toward Aunt Marsha. Take my hand,” he said, reaching toward her.

  She took it, and his heart lifted, hearing Bonnie’s giggle and realizing Marsha had caused a well-needed distraction and had, perhaps without knowing it, prevented a scene.

  Jeff studied Marsha again, her face brightened by the sun and her smile just as warm. Her wet hair now clung to her face and the sunlight highlighted the copper streaks in her red hair. He realized she’d missed out on something important to so many women—being a mother. Was the decision by choice? The topic had never been discussed, but seeing her today with Bonnie made him curious.

  While Marsha played in the water with Bonnie, he decided to join in, but Bonnie hardly seemed to notice him. Her attention seemed glued to Marsha. Jeff felt touched by Marsha’s understanding and playfulness. He felt better than he had in a long time.

  He stood aside, enjoying their laughter reverberating over the water. He hadn’t sought a woman’s company since Marilou had died, but now he recalled how pleasant it was to hear a woman’s laugh. Everyone needed adult companionship and communication. He’d neglected himself in trying to be devoted to Bonnie. He’d probably done them both a disservice. Today, he sensed how much he missed a woman in his life.

  Marsha shivered and rubbed her gooseflesh-covered arms. “I’m heading in.”

  When Jeff glanced at Bonnie to see her reaction, her lips had turned a bluish tint. “Want to go back to the beach?”

  “You can make a sand castle,” Marsha called over her shoulder as she bounded toward the shore. “I’ve had enough ice-cube water for one day.”

  “There’s no ice cubes in here,” Bonnie said, waving her arms through the water as if trying to find some.

  Jeff tousled her wet hair. “Aunt Marsha’s teasing, but let’s make a sand castle. That’s a good idea.”

  With no argument from Bonnie, they headed back to the beach. When they reached the shore, he and Bonnie sank into the damp sand while Marsha dashed across the sand. Jeff watched her grasp a towel and dry her limbs before placing the terry cloth on the grassy knoll. She slid her arms into her beach robe and settled onto the towel, then stretched her legs into the sun and tilted her face upward, eyes closed.

  She looked lovely and relaxed. Jeff recalled so many times he’d gone to his brother’s to give Marsha a hand, and she’d looked so tired, but now…

  He struggled to keep his mind on helping Bonnie build the castle. Searching in the sand, Jeff found a shell and used it to scoop sand as Bonnie mounded it into a tower. Finally, Bonnie lost interest in the castle and searched in the sand for seashells. Jeff took advantage of her occupation and returned to where Marsha was seated. He sank onto his towel, remembering how lonely he had been for the past two years and wondering how long it would take to feel whole again.

  “She’s having fun,” he said, giving a nod toward Bonnie.

  “You’re a good dad, Jeff.”

  “I wasn’t always and, most of the time, I feel helpless. I left most everything up to Marilou.”

  “But you’re doing fine now.”

  He wondered about that. “I’m trying,” was all he could say.

  She shifted her hand to his and gave him a pat. Her fingers felt warm against his flesh. He leaned away on the towel, wondering how wise it had been for him to agree to join her today.

  Marsha’s gaze followed Bonnie while he struggled to find conversation. “I thought Barb was here with you,” he said finally.

  “She is. She was in the bedroom when you came.” She turned and glanced back toward the chalet. “She’s working on dinner, and I suppose I should get up there and help her.”

  When he opened his mouth to apologize for intruding on their meal, Jeff stopped himself, recognizing the old feeling-sorry-for-himself syndrome. He needed to take a long vacation and give himself a breath of fresh air. “I appreciate your invitation. This is really great.”

  Marsha leaned over to slip on her sandals. “You’re welcome. It’s nice to have company.”

  He stood and brushed off the sand from his damp swimsuit. “I’d better get Bonnie thinking about changing clothes.” He reached out and extended his hand to help Marsha rise.

  She grasped it and stood, then gathered her towel. “I’ll see you inside.”

  He watched her bound up the incline, still feeling the pressure of her small hand in his.

  Marsha gathered the dirty plates from the table, eyeing Bonnie’s T-shirt spotted with spaghetti sauce. Another smear clung to her cheek. She was nearly a teenager, yet so far from it.

  “Thanks again. This was delicious,” Jeff said.

  His comment pulled Marsha from her thoughts. “You’re welcome anytime.”

  “It’s nice eating a home-cooked meal made by someone else, for a change.” He slid back his chair and rose. “Thanks, Barb, for all your work.”

  “No problem,” she said from the living room. She’d taken flight to the sofa immediately after dinner.

  Jeff leaned back and tugged at the waistband of his shorts.

  “Need some exercise? How about a walk on the beach?” Marsha asked as she gathered the dessert dishes into the kitchen and slipped them into the sink.

  He didn’t answer but wandered to the screen door and gazed toward the lake.

  With no response, Marsha decided to wait a moment before breaking into his thoughts. She returned to the living room and lowered the wings of the drop-leaf table they’d used for dinner, then slid the furniture against the wall. “It’s still daylight, and maybe we can catch the beginning of a sunset on our way back.”

  “Sounds good,” he said, then turned his attention to Bonnie. “Want to go for a walk, Bon?”

  Focused on a coloring book, she curled up her nose. “I don’t want to walk.”

  “It’s good exercise.”

  Bonnie frowned and turned away from him.

  Jeff lifted his shoulders with a sigh and gave Marsha a hopeless look. “Not worth the battle. I guess we’ll forget that idea.”

  Barb stirred, closing her magazine. “I’ll stay here with Bonnie.”

  To Marsha’s amazement, Barb smiled at Bonnie with a playful wink.

  “We can color.” Bonnie sent Barb a pleading look from the floor and wagged the coloring book at her.

  Barb slid off the sofa and settled beside Bonnie, then grasped a crayon. “We’ll be fine.”

  Marsha didn’t know what to say. She gaped at her sister spread out on the carpet beside Bonnie. Being willing to stay back wasn’t the surprise. Agreeing to color with Bonnie was.

  “Thanks. We won’t be long.” Jeff knelt beside Bonnie. “Okay, Bon?”

  She nodded while focusing on the crayons.

  Marsha slid open the screen and stepped onto the deck as a warm breeze wrapped around her and she descended the three steps to the sand. As she ambled down the path to the lake, her gaze drifted to the tall grass and the myriad wildflowers—oxeye daisies, orange hawkweed and bladder campion—that flanked her trek to the beach. The bright colors stood out among the spikes of timothy, wild oats and oxtail. Sometimes amid life’s weeds, she’d found a few bright spots in her life. Today seemed to be one of them.