Hometown Star

chapter Six

“Oh, my gosh,” Trudy said after hearing the story of Brandi’s son’s birth, her hands on her own pregnant belly. “I can’t wait until it’s my turn. She’s so lucky to have her baby.”

“How long do you have?” Star took a sip of her wine. They were seated around the outdoor dinner table at the O’Briens. The guests had gone into town for dinner, leaving the O’Briens to enjoy a rare night off. At the far end of the table, Emma and Finn played King’s Corner. Brad had already finished eating and had gone inside, leaving the adults to their conversation and after dinner wine.

“Almost three weeks.” Trudy massaged her belly. “I’m so ready to be thin again.”

Star smiled. Trudy might not be svelte now but the smile on her face said it all; she had loved every minute of this pregnancy.

Across the table from Star, Cade watched her, intently. Too intently. Star glanced away, uncomfortable. Did he like her or not? She couldn’t read him. Something had shifted between them at the hospital. It was getting more and more difficult for Star to remember the boy he’d been and easier for her to like the man he was now, yet a part of her didn’t trust him or his motives.

Ron leaned over to pour more merlot into Star’s glass. “This is nice,” he said. “A little downtime is what we all need.”

“So true,” Trudy agreed with a smile. She sipped her herbal tea.

The warmth of the day still hung in the air, settling around them like a soft whisper. Large red geraniums hung from planters attached to the eave of the back porch. Monster flowers. They just didn’t grow like that anywhere but Alaska, home of the midnight sun.

Star leaned back in her chair, feeling sated and happy. “Dinner was wonderful. It’s been ages since I’ve had beef stew and cornbread.”

“Thanks,” Trudy said. “It was easy. I made it ahead in the crockpot.”

Star took another sip of her wine. “I know I should get home and get back to work on Patsy’s place, but it feels so good to sit and do nothing.”

“It’s been a stressful couple of days,” Trudy reminded her. “You’re allowed.”

Star stole another glance at Cade. His eyes held a predatory glow. Was he really that handsome, or was the wine she’d consumed making him look better than he really did? Unsettled, she focused on Trudy.

The back door opened, and Brad poked his head out. “Hey. I got Star’s show on TV. Come look.”

“I love that show.” Trudy pushed to her feet.

They all filed into the house, even the twins, but instead of following them into the family room, Cade detoured, taking the kids upstairs to get ready for bed. Star couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that Cade wasn’t going with them to watch the show. Her stomach tightened a little at the thought of Cade critiquing her work. Update This! was her baby and she was more than a little invested in the show.

In the family room, Trudy, Ron, Star, and Brad crowded onto the two leather sofas. Brad picked up the remote control and turned up the volume.

Vivienne’s French accent sang from the screen. “The color will make the walls pop,” she said as she removed the lid from a can of paint. “See?” She revealed a beautiful shade of what Star liked to call Sea Blue. “Blue and white looks so fresh and clean. So modern.”

Vivienne dipped a paintbrush into the can and stroked the color onto the wall.

“I love that color,” Trudy said in a dreamy voice.

Star pointed to the TV. “Vivienne can take the most rundown home and turn it into something spectacular. She did the design for Evan’s place.”

“I’d love for her to get her hands on this house,” Trudy said. “The plumbing leaks. The windows are drafty. The kitchen is hopelessly outdated. Need I continue?”

Ron laughed. “You’re right. But the place is ours, babe.”

“She’s hot.” Brad pointed at Vivienne.

“Who’s hot?” Cade asked as he came into the room.

“The designer chick on Star’s TV show.” Brad gestured toward the TV.

Cade glanced at the television with interest. He sat down beside Star and she moved over to make room for him. His thigh pressed to hers, they watched the wrap–up of the newly remodeled home, a seventies ranch–style house.

“That house was gorgeous, Star,” Trudy said when the show ended. “And you’re right. The designer did stay true to the original vision of the house.”

“What’s your job exactly?” Cade asked. “You’re not on camera, are you?”

“No,” Star said. “I’m production. I put the segments together. Make the arrangements. I do all the legwork, book the hotel, the catering, I even scout thrift stores and look for unique places to shop. I also help choose which houses are featured.”

“What do you look for?” Trudy asked.

“Good architecture. Good family stories.”

“What a glamorous job,” Trudy said wistfully.

“Are you hinting that your life’s not glamorous?” Ron asked with a grin.

Trudy laughed. “I wouldn’t say my life is glamorous, but I like it just fine.” She reached for Ron’s hand. “I have you. You’re all I want.”

Envy moved through Star. Until now, she’d never missed having a close relationship with a man, but being here, watching Brandi and Bud, and now, Ron and Trudy, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have someone care about her that much, to have a partner to help her wade through life.

“You’re based in Seattle, right?” Ron asked.

“That’s right. I just bought a brand new condo in the city. My very own dream house.”

Trudy sighed. “Lucky girl.”

Yes, lucky girl. Beside her, Cade shifted, the pressure of his thigh to hers increasing. A tiny flutter of sexual awareness sparked inside her.

Disturbed by her attraction to Cade, she said, “It’s getting late. I should get home.” Star stood, eager to put some distance between herself and Cade.

“I’ll walk you,” Cade insisted. “It’s not safe this late. There’s a pair of bears in the area. I wouldn’t want you to come upon them alone, especially without your gun.” He winked at her.

She didn’t want to come upon the bears either. “Okay.” She was pretty sure being alone with him was a bad idea, especially with her wine enhanced feelings, but she ignored the warning voice in her head and said, “Can I help you with anything before I go, Trudy?”

“I’ll help her,” Ron said, rising. “You two go on.”

“Good night then.” She waved to Brad. “See you tomorrow?” Brad was coming over tomorrow afternoon to help her move boxes—part of his punishment for getting caught drinking and vandalizing the night before.

“Yep,” he said, his attention back on the television, his fingers working the remote control.

“Okay then.” Star left the room, Cade behind her.

“I really can make it home on my own,” Star said to him. “I did it last night. It’s not like I’ve never seen a bear before.”

“It wasn’t as late last night.” Cade opened the door for her. “You’re an independent, career woman. I get that. But I can use the fresh air. Let me walk you, Star.”

They left the house, crossed the driveway, and started down the path that would take them from Cade’s to Patsy’s.

Star walked ahead of Cade. Knowing he watched her made her skin tingle, made her feel alive in a way she didn’t quite understand or want to acknowledge.

When they reached the mobile home, Star went up the steps. “Hey,” she said, when she noticed the broken window had been boarded up. “Did you do that?”

“I sent Brad over,” Cade said. “Part of his punishment.”

“Thanks.” The unexpected kindness warmed her. “Thanks for dinner. And thanks for walking me.”

Cade reached around her and opened the door.

For once, Star wished for darkness. Was he going to kiss her? No, that would be too weird. Her cheeks heated. Instinctively, Star back–stepped.

Cade reached for her, his hands closing around her upper arms. “Cold?” He rubbed her arms.

Was he kidding? If anything, her skin was heating up. “No.”

“Me, either,” he said, the double meaning clear. “Do I scare you, Star?”

“Not exactly. Well, maybe a little.”

A shadow crossed his features. “I want to apologize again for the way I treated you when we were kids. I can’t tell you how much I regret hurting and embarrassing you.”

His hands slid up and down her upper arms, his touch gentle, sensual. He looked her straight in the eyes and Star saw sincerity and regret.

“Let’s not talk about the past anymore,” she said, unable to think of anything else to say. In fact, she was having trouble thinking at all as Cade’s hands moved to her shoulders. “Let’s just agree that we both had it rough and move on.”

“Deal.” His hands cupped her face. Slowly, his fingers passed over her cheeks and into her hair.

No one had ever touched her like this, with such tenderness. Desire shot through Star. She felt like a piece of chocolate left too long in the sun, melted and delicious. Unable to help herself, Star swayed toward him.

His mouth took hers.

And heaven help her, Star kissed him back. He held her head in his large hands, making her a willing captive. She didn’t want to escape. She wanted more. His tongue touched hers. Liquid heat pooled deep in her belly. For the first time she understood lust and longing.

Star inched closer to him, her hands splaying against his chest, so solid and firm under her palms. So male. So different from her.

Cade’s mouth left her lips to explore her neck. Star moaned. His lips brushed over her chin, back to her mouth, and he whispered, “I always wanted to kiss you. That was a long time coming.”

His words feathered across her skin, dissolving the rest of her doubts about this new improved Cade. She pulled back in an effort to gather her wits. Her heart pounded in her chest. Every nerve ending in her body sizzled.

He touched his forehead to hers. “I want you, Star. Maybe I always have.”

Was this about sex? Did he want to have sex with her? “No, that’s not happening.”

“Why?” he asked.

Cade was a dead–end, for so many reasons. “I’m leaving soon.”

“So?” he said, his eyes smoldering with intent. “We’re grownups.”

“Meaning?” she asked.

“Meaning we’re free agents. We can make love without guilt.”

Star turned out of his embrace, cold where she’d been hot seconds before. “Maybe you can, but I can’t. I’m not a one–night stand kind of girl. We’re not a good fit, you and I. You’re the all–American outdoorsman. I’m a city girl. We are worlds apart.”

“Come on, Star,” Cade said, taking her hands. “I’m talking about sex, no strings. I know you don’t fit in here. If you were going to be here longer, well, who knows, but you’re not. I’m just being realistic.”

“I think the kiss was a bad idea.” With a heavy heart, Star pulled her hands free and stepped through the open doorway. “I’m not looking for a one–night stand.” She smiled sadly.

Cade took a step toward her. “Star.”

Star held both hands up. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” She closed the door. She waited, half expecting him to knock, a part of her hoping he would, but he didn’t. When she finally got up the nerve to look out the window, he was gone, leaving her to come to the conclusion that it really wasn’t her he wanted, it was sex.

And sex was something she just wasn’t good at, something she didn’t know how to give, something she didn’t understand. Maybe he could be casual about sex, but she couldn’t. She needed the promise of something more than a casual affair to give her virginity away. She hadn’t held on to her virginity all these years to give it away on a one–night stand to a man she didn’t want a future with.

For years she’d watched her mother sleep with man after man. Star didn’t want that. No wonder she didn’t believe in happy endings. Relationships didn’t last. They burned out. Love faded. Marriages dissolved.

There was no way she was going to turn into her mother, five times divorced, brokenhearted, and always searching for a man to make her feel better.

No, she was better off alone.

Cade O’Brien was a dead end road for her and from now on, she planned to stay far, far away from him.

* * *

Evan Jenson was exactly what Star had expected: a devilishly handsome rogue, dressed in a beige and navy plaid shirt he’d probably ordered from REI, and jeans that hugged his butt in a way that said they were his favorite pair. He wore his blond hair long, the layered strands brushing the tops of his shoulders. The look worked for him. Why someone hadn’t snapped him up before now, Star had no idea.

She took the cup of coffee he offered her, her second, and set it in front of her on the table. “Are you okay with everything we’ve talked about so far?”

He slid into the seat opposite her. “So far, so good, pretty lady.”

He had gorgeous eyes, eyes the color of rich brown velvet. Star had to admit he was even better looking in person. And charming. She was certain he’d charmed the panties off of dozens of women, maybe hundreds. He was definitely the type of guy she stayed far away from.

Star took a sip of her coffee, trying to ignore all the testosterone in the room. This was business. She had to stay in control. “You’re okay with us setting up the tent out front?”

“Fine.” His stare bored into her.

“Any questions about the design?” she asked, glancing up from her notes.

He shook his head, as if breaking free from a trance. “Yeah. I do have a couple of questions.”

“I can have Vivienne call you,” Star suggested.

“She’s the French girl, right?” Evan grinned. “Yeah, have her call me. I’d like that.”

Holy cow, the man had sex on the brain.

“Okay.” She jotted his request down in her notebook. “The crew will arrive two weeks from Monday. They’ll be here for one week.”

“Are you part of the crew?” He winked at her.

“Nope. I’ll be back in the office then. I’m preproduction.” Star shut her notebook, and then put her digital camera back in the case.

“That’s too bad,” he drawled. “You busy tonight?”

“I have a date with a sixteen–year–old. We’re packing up my aunt’s place.”

“He’s kind of young for you, isn’t he?” Evan said with a grin meant to disarm.

Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Not when it comes to manual labor. Brad will do just fine.”

“Marissa’s kid?” Evan said suddenly sober.

“Do you know him?”

“Only in passing, but I knew Marissa. She had a screw loose.”

“What do you mean?” Star’s fingers tightened on her pen.

Evan tapped his head. “She was cuckoo. Nuts. She drove her car into the lake on purpose, you know.”

“What?” Star asked, struggling to wrap her mind around his words.

“She had the two little ones with her. Could have killed them. The older one was in school. Guess he was lucky.”

Lucky? Star’s stomach rolled. Poor Brad.

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Marissa kept running away to the city, and Cade’d go and drag her back. She hated it here. But to try and take your kids with you when you’re trying to off yourself?” He shook his head. “She was one messed up chick.”

Star packed up her notebook, shoving it into the pocket of her computer case. She didn’t want to hear any more. Just thinking about Finn and Emma in the car with their distraught mother tugged on her heartstrings. Dear Lord, what had Cade and those kids been through? No wonder Brad was such a mess.

“I think we’re done.” She stood.

Evan rose, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind about dinner?” The hungry way he looked at her made Star wonder if she’d be the main course.

“No, thank you.” She started for the door. “Call me if you have any questions.”

She practically ran Evan down in her haste to get out of his house. She got in her car but she didn’t start the engine right away.

Cade’s wife had killed herself. It was all so sad, so senseless. How had Cade survived such a tragedy? In an instant, she knew—the kids. He’d gone on for them.

Star started the car. Cade was getting under her skin, no doubt about it. She needed to keep her distance from him. Between them they had enough baggage to keep a psychiatrist in business for years. Not a good thing. Definitely not a good thing.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after a visit with Brandi and baby Will, Star watched Brad as he packed the last of the kitchen utensils into a box. The tiny kitchen had been stripped of everything Patsy. Gone was the tin sign that had hung over the stove that read Cooking On Low Is For Sissies, gone was the cookie jar shaped like a big apple, and the macramé owl that hung in the kitchen window. Patsy’s trademark ashtrays were packed up. The Coke glasses, free at the local gas station with a fill–up during the sixties, were stored away, bound for the local thrift shop. The old, worn avocado green countertops looked even sadder minus the usual clutter.

They’d been hard at it for a couple of hours now, working like dogs.

“Where do you want this box, Star?” Brad asked.

“Put it by the front door.” Star tossed the dishrag she held onto the kitchen counter. “Does it look like we’re going to have enough boxes to pack up the rest of the clothes?”

Brad set the box down. “Yeah. What about all the stuff in the other room?”

“You mean the paintings?” Star picked up the roll of packing tape.

“Yeah.” Brad tossed his head to get his hair out of his eyes. He needed a haircut, but she wasn’t going to tell him. That was Cade’s job.

“I want to go through them,” she said.

“What if there’s one I want?” Brad’s eyes met hers. He was ready to do battle, everything from the stubborn set of his jaw to the way he held his body said so.

“Is there one you want, Brad?”

He nodded.

“Okay, come on.” Star passed him, going to the spare bedroom. The room was stuffed with easels and canvases, large and small. Patsy’s paints and brushes were stacked helter–skelter on a cheap six foot folding table, pushed up against the far wall.

“Which one?” Star asked, not sure where even to start digging.

Brad cut a path through the chaos, walking directly to a group of paintings leaning against the wall, under the window. He flipped several canvases forward before removing one of the larger paintings.

Star went to him. “What did you choose?” She took the canvas from him. A woman’s face stared back at her, a beautiful face with clear green eyes, a straight nose, and a mouth with full lips. Her hair was auburn, the same shade as Emma’s.

“Your mother,” Star said.

Brad nodded.

“She was beautiful.”

Brad stared at the portrait, then reached out to touch his mother’s face. “Yeah.”

Star’s heart went out to him. “Of course you may have it. I’m surprised Patsy didn’t already give them to you. Are there others here?”

Brad nodded.

“Take them, please,” Star said.

He nodded again.

Star reached out and gave his arm a comforting squeeze. He didn’t acknowledge the gesture and she hadn’t expected him to.

Curious about Patsy’s other paintings, Star began to flip through them. There were several landscapes, depicting everything from downtown Seward, to Resurrection Bay, to Patsy’s own yard. Star set aside a particularly stirring painting of Resurrection Bay, the sky gray, the water even grayer. Snow lined the pier, softened the businesses nestled nearby. She’d managed to capture the bay in winter, right down to the lonely gulls. The landscapes were raw and powerful, but the portraits stirred something in Star’s soul.

Star recognized all of Patsy’s subjects. There were several of Star, Tawney, Ruby Sue, and Brandi. There was even a wedding portrait of Brandi and Bud, which Star would make certain her sister received. There was one of Emma alone, and one with Emma, Finn, and Brad.

“This is why you come here, you and Finn and Em,” Star said. “You come to see the paintings, don’t you?” Her heart ached for the kids.

Brad nodded.

“Does your dad know?”

“I guess.” Brad shrugged. “I asked if we could have them, and he said that they belonged to Patsy’s estate.”

“Well as the executor of Patsy’s will, I’m giving them to your family. Take them all.”

Brad gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Star.” Brad held up a painting.

It was a portrait of Cade’s father, Dan O’Brien. He’d been a handsome man, big and rugged and blustery. He’d died about a year before Patsy. Cancer. She remembered that much from Patsy’s phone calls. “That’s your grandpa.”

“I know.”

“Take it, too,” Star said, certain Cade would want it.

“Dad won’t want it,” Brad said.

“Why not?” she asked, looking at Brad.

“Because of Patsy.” Brad set the painting down.

“What do you mean?” Star asked, not understanding. “I think Cade would love it. It’s good.”

Brad shook his head. “Grandpa and Patsy were, you know, doing it.”

“Doing what?” She stared at Brad, hoping she misunderstood.

“It.”

Did he mean sex? No. No way. She thought back. No, she’d never seen Patsy with Cade’s father, not in any kind of romantic way. Patsy had worked for Dan O’Brien. She hadn’t slept over, and he’d never stayed over with Patsy. Not once.

“Are you saying your grandpa and Patsy were dating?” she asked.

“I guess. I used to hear Dad and Uncle Ron arguing about it. Dad wanted to kick Patsy off our land after Grandpa died, but Uncle Ron wouldn’t let him. He said that Grandpa made it clear that Patsy could live here as long as she wanted. Dad called Patsy a tramp.”

Star bristled. “A tramp? Patsy wasn’t a tramp. She was the most generous, loving person I’ve ever met.” She struggled to process everything Brad had told her. “If she was friends with your grandpa, that was a choice they both made. Maybe they loved each other.”

Brad shrugged. “Whatever. But I don’t think Dad will want the painting.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Star said. “I’ll talk to him.”

She’d talk to him all right and not just about the painting. She wanted him to take back his slanderous remark about Patsy. Dating a man didn’t make a woman a tramp. What kind of caveman–type thinking was that? Thank goodness she’d made it clear their kiss was a one time lapse in judgment.

Brad tucked several canvases of his mother and siblings under his arms. “It’s your funeral.”

He left the room, leaving Star alone with a room filled with the people and places that had filled Patsy’s life. Feeling a little haunted by her aunt, Star followed Brad out.

“Come on, Brad,” she said. “I think you’ve done enough today. Put your paintings in the car and I’ll give you a lift home.”