Sail Away with Me Read online

  “Oh man, that’s cool. Sexy. Isn’t it?”

  “It is pretty cool.”

  “And sexy. Right?”

  Trust Miranda to persist. “I . . . I don’t want to think that way about him. Not when we’ll only ever be friends.”

  “Don’t want to means that you do think he’s sexy. You’re sure you don’t want to put aside the big romantic dream for a while and have a mad, passionate fling with Julian?”

  “Tempting, but no.” Amazingly tempting. At the age of almost twenty-five, she was a virgin. She’d only ever dated one guy, back in her final year at university, and that relationship sure hadn’t been a blazing success.

  “It’d be something to tell your grandkids about.” The cheeky tone was so Miranda.

  Iris had to laugh. “Oh yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what grandchildren want to hear, that their wrinkly old grandma lost her virginity in a hookup with a rock star.”

  “They’d see wrinkly old granny in a whole new light.”

  Iris rolled her eyes. She liked this Miranda, with her bubbly high spirits. When they’d first met more than a year ago, Miranda had been, as she’d ungrudgingly labeled herself, a pathetic mess. A single mom, down on her luck, she’d been depressed yet determined to build a better life for herself and her little girl. Which she’d done in a big way, with a new career direction and her engagement to Luke.

  Miranda said, “Wait. What? What did you say? You’re a virgin?”

  Iris wasn’t ashamed of that fact. “Yes. I’ve told you my pathetic dating history. Just when in there did you think I’d had an opportunity to lose my virginity?”

  “I didn’t,” Miranda said, sounding stunned. “Think, that is. Just assumed that, well, any woman your age would have, you know.”

  “Well, I haven’t. And, by the way, unlike you I have no problem saying had sex.”

  “Okay,” Miranda said, “I’ll shut up now. About virginity and Julian. You’ll do what’s right for you, I know it.”

  That’s exactly what Iris was doing: fostering a friendship with a special man. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Listen, it would be nice if you and Glory didn’t spread it around that Julian and I are friends. You know I’m a private person, and we should respect his privacy, too.”

  “Iris, it’s Destiny. There’s no such thing as privacy.”

  After making plans to have coffee, they hung up and Iris got back to slicing and chopping. She had everything ready when the door opened and her aunt walked in.

  Lily was as perfectly groomed as always, in slim-fitting tan pants, a burgundy top, and one of her lovely scarves, with her long hair pulled back into a neat coil. At fifty-four, her skin was smooth and almost unlined.

  After greeting each other in Japanese, Iris continued in that language. “I have rice cooking, ingredients for beef sukiyaki all ready to go, and a bottle of Destiny Cellars cabernet sauvignon. Would you like a glass of wine, or perhaps a bath before dinner?”

  “A glass of wine would be nice. Then give me fifteen minutes to change and unwind.”

  “Of course.” Iris poured wine for her and handed her the glass. “Take as long as you need.” Her aunt would put on yoga pants and sit cross-legged on a mat by her bedroom window, gazing out and either meditating or simply enjoying the view, the wine, and the solitude.

  Aunt Lily had lived with her parents until she was thirty, and then with infinite politeness told them she needed her own space. She’d bought a one-bedroom apartment. When Iris had completed her B.A. at the University of Victoria, her parents assumed she would move back home, but she wanted to maintain a degree of independence from parental oversight. Yet she’d feared that, if she lived alone, she’d be too lonely. It was the paradox of being a shy introvert. She needed solitude to recharge her energy, yet if her shyness led her to avoid people, she became lonely.

  Perhaps feeling the same way, Aunt Lily had offered a third option, saying she’d be glad of Iris’s companionship. When Iris happily agreed, her aunt had upgraded to a two-bedroom condo, with Iris’s rent covering the increased mortgage payments and other expenses. The arrangement had worked out beautifully. They created their private spaces and times as well as their shared ones.

  Now Iris poured a glass of wine for herself, and took it into the living room. She turned off the sixties music and put on an album of shakuhachi music, simple and haunting melodies played on the traditional Japanese bamboo flute.

  She sat in a chair by the window, near the table that was set for dinner. Most of the furniture was her aunt’s, and they had arranged it in a way that satisfied their needs and their aesthetic taste. They both preferred space to clutter, and liked clean, simple lines. They chose neutral colors overall, with a few colorful accents in artwork, vases, and pillows. Relaxing, Iris appreciated the serenity offered by the room, the view, and the pure music of the shakuhachi. This was a far cry from Julian’s world of clubs, amplified music, and enthusiastic audiences.

  When her aunt emerged from her bedroom, Iris ignited the burner in the center of the dining table, and put the pot of sauce—a combination of dashi, soy sauce, mirin, sake, and sugar—on to heat. She dished hot rice into two bowls and gave them to her aunt to take to the table, then carried the platter of sliced beef and cubed tofu, and the platter of vegetables, to the table. Iris returned for the wine, topped up their glasses, and sat down across from her aunt.

  Using chopsticks, Aunt Lily transferred some of the ingredients to the simmering liquid. “Thank you for preparing my favorite meal.”

  “I’m happy to. Was the store busy today?”

  “Yes, quite busy. We did well. Readers are already looking ahead to the holiday season and snapping up the first Christmas novels and coffee-table books. And with Crimes of Passion meeting at the store tonight, it should be a successful evening as well.”

  Iris’s parents were working tonight, serving customers while the book club held its bimonthly meeting in the mystery/thriller section of the store. The club members always ended up purchasing several books themselves.

  “How was your day?” Lily asked as she selected a slice of mushroom from the cook pot.

  “Very nice. I took Windspinner up to Sunset Cove. It was a perfect day for sailing.” For her first bite, Iris chose tofu.

  “Really?” One simple word, yet there was a pointed quality to the question.

  Iris glanced at her aunt. “Yes. Sunny, warm for November, and a nice breeze.”

  “I see.” Again, she heard an odd tone.

  Iris watched her aunt select a strip of cooked beef and nibble it. “Is something on your mind?”

  Her aunt finished the beef and reached for her wineglass. “Your mother popped out to the pharmacy this afternoon, and she saw you drive by.”

  Iris stifled a groan. Focused on Julian, she hadn’t noticed her mom. “Let me guess.” She took a piece of scallion from the pot. “She said I wasn’t alone.”

  “She said there was a man in the passenger seat. She didn’t recognize him.”

  Her aunt hadn’t asked a direct question. That would be rude. But to refuse to answer the implied one would also be rude. Besides, as Miranda had pointed out, word was probably already spreading. Adding more ingredients to the simmering pot, Iris said, “Julian Blake came sailing with me. Forbes’s son. Sonia’s stepson. Luke’s stepbrother.” Triply credible, in other words.

  “The musician?”

  “Yes.”

  “The one who shuns the island, but came after Forbes’s accident to help out?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t know you knew him.”

  “We went to school together.” It was true, even though he’d been three years ahead and never noticed her. “He was in the store the other day and we got talking. He’s quite stressed, worrying about Forbes. I thought it would be nice to go sailing before the season ends, and thought he might enjoy a break, so I extended an invitation.”

  “That was kind of you.” She didn’t add that it was
utterly uncharacteristic, but Iris knew she was thinking it.

  After another few bites, Aunt Lily said, “You know your parents want to meet him.”

  Iris reflected for a moment. “We all want things we can’t have.” As she did, with this silly attraction to a man who would never fit her dream of happily ever after.

  “That’s the truth.” Her aunt’s words were solemn and a shadow darkened her brown eyes.

  They were both quiet for a minute or two and then Aunt Lily said briskly, “Enough of that subject. I have interesting news.”

  Relieved and curious, Iris leaned forward. “Is it gossip?” At Dreamspinner, their family overheard many conversations, including some that were intended to be private. They would never reveal secrets outside the family, but even though gossip was unseemly, they were only human and sometimes indulged among themselves.

  “No, not gossip. You know the rumor that Walter Franklin doesn’t plan to run again when his current term as a trustee comes to an end?”

  “Yes, it’s been circulating for weeks.” Franklin was one of Destiny’s two elected representatives on the Islands Trust. “I’ve heard that people are asking Bart Jelinek to run.”

  “Today, Melanie Newall suggested to your father that he consider running.” Melanie, with her husband and his brother, owned and operated the Destiny Gazette, the island newspaper.

  “Wow. That never occurred to me.” Iris gazed out the window, not seeing the view as much as considering the notion. “Dad would be terrific.” She gave a soft laugh. “Not that I’m prejudiced.” Nor was she a particular fan of Bart. No one could fault his accomplishments, but his hearty manner was anathema to her shy personality. His wife, Cathy, Iris liked better. She worked at a credit union and supported her husband’s causes in a less ostentatious manner.

  “Dad knows everyone on the island,” Iris said, “and like Bart he’s helped out with so many good causes. Besides, the Yakimuras have lived on Destiny since the very early days.” With the exception, of course, of the internment camp years, but that went without saying. “Bart’s family doesn’t go back far at all.”

  “No, and I don’t think Bart even planned to live on Destiny. He worked as a Realtor in Vancouver for a few years in his twenties, and married Cathy there. Then he came back, saying city life was less appealing than the rural charm and community spirit of Destiny.”

  “Saying?”

  “There’s a lot of competition among Realtors in Vancouver, whereas at the time the only island Realtor was Thelma Sajak.”

  Iris nodded. Mrs. Sajak, in her seventies now, was still in the business, running Destiny Homes along with her married daughter. Their agency was the sole competition for Bart’s Island Realty. “He stood a better chance of succeeding here. That makes sense.”

  “Plus, Bart likes to be the big fish in a small pond.”

  The snideness, atypical of Lily, made Iris chuckle. “That’s so true, isn’t it? Anyhow, to get back to Dad. I bet he said no.”

  “You’re right. He told Melanie he was flattered, but that Bart would do a fine job.”

  “Was he just being shy and humble, or do you think he truly wouldn’t want to be a trustee?”

  “The former, I think, plus not wanting to compete with Bart. As you well know, it’s the Yakimura way to blend in rather than put ourselves forward.”

  “Yes, whereas Bart’s the nail that loves to stick out,” Iris said dryly. Uncharitably, she almost wished that one day the old adage would prove true, and he’d be hammered down. “Perhaps we should remind Dad of what Lao Tzu said, that from humility comes leadership. Responsible leadership.”

  “True, but Bart is anything but humble and he’s done well with the Rotary and the other causes he’s taken on. Besides, the rumor mill already has him elected.”

  Ah yes, the infamous rumor mill.

  So far, Iris’s aunt, her parents, Miranda, and Glory, not to mention two elderly fishermen, knew about her and Julian. What were the chances that gossip would go no further?

  * * *

  On Tuesday night, Julian was eating dinner with his dad and stepmom. The meal was a chicken, onion, tomato, zucchini stir-fry over rotini, easy for Forbes to manage one-handed. Julian was glad to see him eating heartily. After his surgeries, the pain meds had robbed him of his appetite and he’d had to force himself to take the nourishment his body needed in order to heal.

  Julian had never been a cook, but he’d taken over that duty most weeknights and to his surprise enjoyed it. Sonia had a collection of recipes, old family ones and others she’d cut or photocopied from books and magazines, or printed from the Internet. Following directions was like reading music, and he was developing the ability to improvise, too. Homemade sure beat microwave meals and takeout.

  If he handled dinner, that freed up Sonia’s time after school got out. She could shop and run other errands—which meant Julian didn’t have to go into the village. It also allowed her to keep coaching the debate team, which she’d done this afternoon. Now she was regaling Julian and his dad with stories of the students’ blunders and triumphs as they debated whether religious and cultural traditions like Hanukkah, Christmas, and Kwanzaa should be taught in school.

  Forbes’s long, ponytailed hair was gray and thinning, and the character lines that creased his face had deepened since the accident. But now those lines relaxed as he listened to his wife’s stories. His love for her was evident in his blue eyes, the eyes Julian had inherited. For the first time since the accident, Forbes looked younger than his sixty-five years rather than older.

  Watching his stepmom, Julian thought that Sonia Russo really was an attractive woman, with her Mediterranean coloring and black hair. Perhaps her most appealing feature, though, was her vitality. Her expressions were animated, and her gestures, too, as she talked about her students. She was there for them, involved with them, trying to help them achieve their dreams.

  When she’d married his father, Julian had seen her as being absorbed in their love, with no room for anyone else. Now he realized that, in all likelihood, she’d tried to get to know her new stepson, but he had been resentful and surly. Then Jelinek saw Julian’s vulnerability and took advantage, and after that Julian had been too broken and ashamed to trust anyone.

  When Sonia finished a story, he said, “I’m sorry I never gave you a chance, when you and Forbes got married.”

  “What?” Her expressive eyebrows winged up. “What are you talking about, Julian?”

  “Listening to you tonight, getting to know you over the past weeks, I see that you’re a caring teacher and a wonderful partner to my dad. I should’ve seen that years ago, and not been so hard on you.”

  Sonia glanced at Forbes and then back to Julian. “Thank you for that, but I wasn’t such a wonderful person back then. Not to you. For that I owe you an apology.”

  He shrugged, said, “Water under the bridge,” and then grimaced at the triteness of the phrase.

  She reached over and touched his hand, and then drew away again. By nature, she was a toucher, but the two of them only ever gave each other the obligatory, and rather stiff, hugs on occasions that demanded them. “When I met Forbes, I was a mess. Luke’s dad had died two years earlier, do you remember me telling you that?”

  “Uh, sorry, but only vaguely. Was it cancer?”

  “Yes, non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It was a horrible time. When he died, I was devastated. I barely functioned, what with my depression and the meds I was taking.” She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again. “I was a terrible mother to Luke.”

  Why hadn’t Julian known all this? Hadn’t Sonia shared it, or had he not been listening?

  She turned to Forbes, took his hand, and held on. Gazing back at Julian, she said, “Then I met this man. I’d never believed I could love again. I didn’t even want to live, but I had Luke, my job, and I had to.”

  She’d felt suicidal? He’d never had a clue they’d had that in common.

  Going on, she said, �
��But then some girlfriends staged an intervention and dragged me off to Quail Ridge Community Hall to see a band from Victoria that was playing.”

  “Forbes’s band.”

  She nodded. “My world changed. There he was onstage, playing his guitar and singing, his voice rough-edged but sweet, like a callus on a gentle fingertip. I felt like he was singing directly to me.”

  A callus on a gentle fingertip. Julian’s muse noted that one. He’d long ago learned to live with the fact that, as he lived his life, his muse was taking notes.

  “Which I was,” Forbes said. “I saw this gorgeous woman, like an Italian movie star, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”

  “He was so sexy,” Sonia said. Mischief glinted in her eyes as she spoke to Julian.

  “Gag,” he retorted, and grinned at her.

  She laughed. “It was so cliché. There I was, a widow, a single mother, a high school sciences teacher—and suddenly I transformed into a groupie who was infatuated with the lead singer in the band.” She nodded. “You know those women, Julian. You have dozens of them in every audience.”

  “True.” He would look out at them, see their flushed cheeks and those dazzled eyes that broadcast, clear as hell, I want to fuck you. Once in a while he hooked up with one after a show, for a couple of hours of mindless pleasure. The only time he’d ever seen a woman in the audience who truly captured his interest was back in May. She hadn’t looked like an Italian movie star, but like a Japanese flower, a slim and elegant iris amid a garden of gaudy petunias.

  “Forbes had lots of groupies, of course,” Sonia went on.

  “But she was different,” his dad said. “I don’t believe there’s such a thing as love at first sight, but there was sure something. That ‘stranger across a crowded room’ thing. Thank God she and her friends hung around after the show. I joined them for a drink and then—”

  Sonia broke in. “Then all those girlfriends suddenly had other places they needed to be, and it was just him and me.”

  “We talked for hours.” Forbes squeezed his wife’s hand. “I learned that that’s plenty of time to fall in love.”