Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(45)

“Just leave me alone.” That seemed to be her daughter’s mantra.

But Shirley couldn’t do that. Her fear was that in her vulnerable emotional state, Tanni would become physically involved with Shaw. Her imagination ran wild with distressing scenarios, from teen pregnancy to disease to substance abuse. Tanni was too young for such an intense relationship. Too trusting, too naive, too hurt.

Shirley felt helpless. Every time she tried to talk to her daughter, Tanni shut her out.

The phone rang, and it caught Shirley off guard. She reacted with a physical jerk, then reached for the receiver.

“Hello?” She hoped she’d hear her daughter, calling with a reason for being late. Or, better yet, a promise to get home soon.

“Is this Shirley Bliss?” It was a male voice, one she didn’t recognize.

“Yes,” she said anxiously. Her pulse raced. Worried as she was about Tanni, she was terrified that this stranger had bad news. After all, if it had happened once, it could happen again.

“Hello, Shirley. I’m Will Jefferson.”

The name seemed familiar, but she couldn’t immediately recall where she’d heard it before. Then it came to her.

“I hope you don’t mind my contacting you like this.”

She thought the new gallery owner sounded a little too smooth and polished. “What can I do for you, Mr. Jefferson?” She spoke in a businesslike tone.

“Please, it’s Will.”

Shirley rolled her eyes. “You called because…”

“I recently purchased the Harbor Street Gallery.”

“Yes, I know.” She was grateful the gallery had found a new owner and that there’d be an outlet for her work. Many of the local artists depended on the income generated there.

“I was told you’d be a good person to talk to,” Will explained. “I’m interested in showing your work, of course, but I also have some ideas for renovating the gallery. I hoped we might have a chance to chat. I’d appreciate your feedback.”

“Yes, well…”

“I realize this is Saturday afternoon and it’s a very busy time of year, but I was hoping we could get together early in the week. Would that work for you?”

“I suppose.” Shirley raised her head as she heard a car door closing in the distance.

“How about Tuesday?”

“Ah, sure.” At this point she just wanted to get off the phone.

Will suggested they meet at the gallery and she noted the date and time on her calendar.

“I look forward to seeing you again,” Will said, as they ended the conversation.

She frowned. “Again?”

“Yes, we met briefly a couple of weeks ago when you picked up the check for the sailboat piece—the fabric collage.”

Oh, yes—they had met. Shirley remembered exactly what he looked like now. Will Jefferson was strikingly attractive—and his reputation had preceded him. Apparently he’d been born and raised in Cedar Cove and was a known ladies’ man, although he’d been back in town for only a few weeks. But she didn’t generally pay much attention to gossip; she preferred to form her own opinions.

The front door opened.

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said quickly.

“Great. Thanks, Shirley.” There was a significant pause. “I have the feeling we’re going to become great friends. See you Tuesday.”

“Goodbye.”

Shirley stared down at the phone as she hung up. Their conversation, however short, had left her with the impression that he had an elevated view of himself and his charms.

Tanni went directly to her room and closed the door.

Shirley followed and knocked politely.

“What?” her daughter demanded.

Rather than ask questions that would only be resented, Shirley took another approach. “Dinner’s ready.”

“I already ate,” Tanni said without opening the door.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like some company. Eating by myself every night is boring.”

Silence.

She waited several minutes and then, dismayed, walked back to the kitchen. Earlier that afternoon, Shirley had made a soup that had been one of Jim’s favorite’s—cauliflower, potato and cheese. It was the perfect meal for a cold winter night.

She ladled a scoop into her bowl, then sat down at the kitchen table. As was her practice, she bowed her head for a brief prayer, adding a request for help in reaching her daughter.

When Shirley raised her head, Tanni was entering the kitchen. Rather than reveal any satisfaction, she shook out her linen napkin and placed it on her lap.

“What’s that?” Tanni asked, gesturing at the Crock-Pot.

“Soup.”

“Well, duh, I can see that. What kind?”

At another time, Shirley would have reacted to Tanni’s rudeness; for now she’d disregard it. She knew its source, and knew it was more important to leave herself open and available. So she answered mildly, “The cauliflower recipe.”

Tanni’s eyes showed the first sign of pleasure Shirley had seen in weeks.

“Want to join me?” she asked, then instantly wished she could cancel the invitation. Anytime she showed any desire for her daughter’s company, Tanni withdrew.

“I said I already ate.”