Summer on Blossom Street
Page 15

Had it actually been that long? “Sorry, Mom, I guess the time got away from me.”
“You haven’t been sick, have you?”
“No, no.” He glanced at his assistant. “Would you bring us each a cup of green tea?” he asked.
“I’d be happy to,” Gail assured him with a knowing smile. He’d asked as a way of distracting his mother and Gail knew it.
His mother waited until Gail had left the room. “Green tea?”
she asked, sounding surprised.
“I’ve turned over a new leaf,” he told her. Realizing what he’d said, he added, “No pun intended.”
His mother smiled. In her eyes, there was little he could do wrong.
“I did mention I’ve joined a gym, didn’t I?” There was no need to tell her he’d only been once.
“Oh, yes, and knitting classes, too.”
As if to prove he was taking his physician’s advice seriously, he reached behind his desk where he kept his knitting, although he hadn’t picked it up since that initial class. “I learned how to cast on last week,” he announced proudly, waving the needle with its clumped stitches to show her. He’d managed to knit three or four rows, although for every stitch he made he’d had to unravel two. But, he reasoned, he was learning.
Gloria clapped her hands in delight as he shoved the needle, trailing its skein of white yarn, back in his briefcase. She made him feel there wasn’t anything he couldn’t tackle. Everyone needed a mother like his and in that sense Hutch considered himself one of the fortunate people of this world.
“Did you make that phone call yet?” she asked, looking expectantly at him as she took her place on the leather sofa. Phone call? Hutch was supposed to have made a phone call? He wracked his brain, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember.
“Bryan, you promised. ”
She was Bryan to him when he’d disappointed her. Apparently his blank expression gave him away. “Remind me again who you wanted me to phone.”
Thankfully Gail’s timing was impeccable and she chose just that moment to return with a small tray. The teapot was covered with a white cozy and she’d arranged two cups, together with a small pitcher of milk and packets of sugar. She set it on the corner of his desk and quietly left.
“I’ll pour.” His mother stood and moved toward him.
“I take mine black…or green as the case may be,” he said, thinking himself rather clever.
“Jessie’s friend,” Gloria said, handing him the f irst mug. His sister had lots of friends—and then it hit him. “Oh, that friend.” His mother had mentioned something about a woman, but it’d been early last week and had completely slipped his mind.
“Her name’s Mia Northf ield.” With her own tea in hand, she sat on the sofa and sipped delicately.
The fact was, Hutch didn’t remember much of their conversation. Nor did he recall promising his mother that he’d contact this Mia.
“She’s divorced.”
He nodded. That sounded vaguely familiar.
His mother’s eyes brightened. “I don’t mean to nag, I really don’t. All I want is for you to f ind some nice woman and settle down and have two or three children…or ten.”
Hutch nearly choked on his tea. “Ten?”
“I’d spoil every one of them, you know.”
“I do know.” The image of his mother with young children gathered around her was strangely appealing. The problem was, he hadn’t dated anyone in quite a long time. He was embarrassed to admit just how long it’d been. There didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day for an active social life, not like the one he’d had before his father’s death.
All of a sudden Phoebe Rylander’s face f lashed before him. A warm feeling came over him as he pictured her fragile smile and dark, lively eyes. “As it happens,” he murmured, holding his cup with both hands, “I have met someone.”
His mother sat up straighter. “When?” she asked speculatively, almost as if she didn’t believe him.
“Last week in my knitting class.” He grinned and knew instantly that his mother had noticed.
“Tell me about her.”
There wasn’t really that much to say. “The class is called Knit to Quit,” he began.
Gloria looked worried. “She’s not a smoker, is she?” Then before he could respond, she asked, “Does this girl have a weight issue?” She seemed to regret that question. “Actually, that doesn’t concern me nearly as much as the smoking.”
“This woman doesn’t smoke—” he hoped that was true “—and she’s certainly not overweight.”
“Then tell me about her. Why is she in the class?”
Hutch reviewed the introductions Lydia had asked each of them to make. “To be honest, I don’t remember exactly what Phoebe’s hoping to quit.” What he did recall was a rather sad story. “Apparently she was engaged and her f iancé died shortly before the wedding.” He raised one shoulder in a shrug. “I guess she’s trying to get over him.”
“Phoebe. What a lovely name.” His mother’s eyes clouded with sympathy. “The poor girl.”
“She’s as lovely as her name.” Hutch didn’t realize he’d spoken the words aloud until he saw his mother’s reaction. Gloria sipped her tea, sending him a thoughtful look over the rim of her cup. “She’ll need time to heal, of course. Did she say when this happened?”
Phoebe hadn’t given the group many details. In fact, she seemed reluctant to talk about her f iancé’s death at all, which told him she was still dealing with the loss.
Hutch could understand that. He would never forget how he’d felt when he’d learned about his father’s heart attack. That kind of trauma wasn’t quickly laid to rest.
“Be patient with her,” his mother advised.
Hutch simply agreed. He’d hoped Gloria would be satisf ied with a few remarks about Phoebe, but he could tell that wasn’t going to be the case.
“What does she look like?” His mother pressed and then laughed. “Outward appearance doesn’t mean much, but she’s obviously captured your fancy and that makes me wonder. She must be beautiful.”
“She is.” At least in his eyes, Phoebe was strikingly attractive.
“She has big, dark eyes.” In them he read her pain and determination to survive this and whatever else life threw at her. The woman had courage, and that appealed to him even more than her beauty. As for describing her features, all he could come up with was that she looked pretty.
“She’s about your height,” he said, turning to his mother. The fact that Phoebe had slipped so easily into his mind was actually surprising. He hadn’t thought about her since last week’s knitting class.
“Short, then.”
“No-o-o.” Hutch didn’t view her that way. “Petite.” Not a word he normally used, but it seemed to describe Phoebe.
“How does she wear her hair?”
“Her hair,” he repeated. “It’s…it’s…” He made several futile attempts to depict it with his hands and f inally gave up. “She wears it sort of…long. To her shoulders, I guess. It’s uh, wavy.”
That was the best he could do.
His mother laughed, apparently f inding his antics amusing. Finally Hutch shook his head. “You’ll meet her soon enough, so all your questions will be answered.”
His mother fairly beamed with excitement. “You’ve already asked her out?”
“Well…”
“Move slowly with her, Hutch. She’s suffered a tremendous loss and the last thing she needs is to be rushed into a new relationship.”
“Yes, Mother.”
The way he said it made his mother smile. “I know, I know, you don’t need dating advice from me.”
She was right, but he wasn’t willing to say so. His mother f inished her tea and left soon afterward. Hutch walked her to her car as she chatted about meeting his younger sister for lunch and the shopping trip the two of them had planned. As he returned to the off ice, Phoebe Rylander’s image came to mind again. He thought of her sitting across the table from him, working quietly on her project while he struggled to learn the craft. He suddenly felt unnerved as he recognized how much attention he’d paid to her. Until his mother’s visit, he hadn’t even realized it. That said a lot. He’d been out of the dating world for so many years, he found it hard to remember what it was like to have a relationship.
Offering to walk Phoebe to her car after class had been a matter of courtesy. Only now did he acknowledge his disappointment when she’d refused. He was completely out of his element with women these days—that was an unavoidable conclusion—but he was going to pursue Phoebe. In the gentlest possible way, of course. He’d follow his mother’s suggestion and take things slowly. For all he knew, Phoebe might already be in another relationship. Somehow he didn’t think so.
The phone on Gail’s desk rang as Hutch stepped into the off ice. He heard her answer, then say, “Just a minute, Mr. Custer. I’ll see if he’s available.”
He paused.
Holding her hand over the receiver, Gail said, “It’s John—want to talk to him again?”
Hutch had been half expecting the attorney to call back. “I’ll take it at my desk.” He hurried into his off ice, closing the door.
“Hutch,” John said excitedly. “Listen, these people are ready to deal. They don’t want to go to court any more than we do.”
“Good.” Naturally he hoped the plaintiff in this case could drop it entirely. That, however, was unlikely.
“Her attorney said he’d make everything go away for half a million dollars.”
Hutch nearly laughed out loud. “There is absolutely no way!”
“Hutch, be reasonable,” John said in a persuasive voice.
“Getting rid of the aggravation factor is worth half a mil in itself. Be done with this once and for all.”
Hutch hesitated, then decided to go with his gut. “In my opinion, this is blackmail, plain and simple.”
“True, but it can also turn around and bite you if you don’t settle now. It’s a take it or leave it proposition. They’re insisting on an answer by this afternoon.”
Hutch had to admit he was tempted. He’d like nothing more than to put an end to this whole mess. “If we pay them off, what’s to prevent someone else from f iling the same suit two months down the road?”
John didn’t respond for a moment. “That’s unlikely. Let’s deal with what’s in front of us right now,” he urged. “This can all be resolved today if we pay up. Don’t you feel that’s worth it?”
Hutch desperately wanted this lawsuit to disappear. However, writing a cheque for half a million dollars meant he’d be buying peace, and a tentative one at that. If he settled now, he was convinced he’d be opening the door for other such lawsuits and he refused to let that happen.