Twelfth Night Proposal

Then she remembered what he’d said earlier. I don’t think of myself as single. That obviously meant he still thought of himself as married.

The timer beeped, signaling the first waffle was finished. Verity focused all of her attention into lifting the top of the iron, carefully removing the waffle and ladling in the next one.

The silence in the kitchen grew awkward until she finally asked, “When did you begin designing boats?”

“When I was ten.”

She glanced at him. “What inspired you to do that?”

“My father. He didn’t design boats, but he built them from someone else’s plans. I spent every spare moment I could with him at the boatyard. I loved going out on the water with him, too. He had a real respect for the sea and taught me how to read it.”

“Read it?” That idea fascinated her.

“Anyone can learn to pilot a boat. Instruments these days make the experience almost a no-brainer. But there are still times when the color of the sky, the direction of the clouds, the scent of the water can tell a pilot the story as well as instruments can.”

After Leo took a frying pan from the cupboard, he poured the eggs into it. The scent of the sweet waffles with blueberries, the aroma of coffee brewing, the eggs cooking in the skillet filled the kitchen along with the sound of Heather humming as she colored. The scene was so domestic it took Verity aback for a second. It was almost like a dream she’d had a week ago—a dream in which she’d had a home and a place to belong. But she really didn’t belong here with Leo.

Did she?

Whatever she was feeling toward Leo Montgomery was probably all one-sided, and she’d better put the brakes on it. As his nanny, she was convenient right now. When he no longer needed her, he wouldn’t hesitate to say goodbye, just as Matthew had.

Snatching a topic, any topic, she asked Leo, “How about your mother? Did she like boats and the water, too?”

Leo cast her a sideways glance. “Not on your life. Mom’s a high-heels, I-don’t-want-to-get-my-hair-wet kind of person. She’s never wanted anything to do with the boatyard or the business.”

“Your sister told me she lives in Avon Lake, but she’s away now.”

“Lives in Avon Lake,” Leo repeated. “Officially, I guess. She has an apartment, but rarely uses it for more than a few weeks at a time. She’s become a world traveler.”

“You come from such an interesting family.”

He laughed. “That’s one way of putting it. How about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes. Your parents. What do they do?”

Lifting the waffle iron before the timer went off, she saw the pastry was golden brown. Thankful she could stall for a little time to figure out what to say, she transferred it to a plate and decided to give an honest, short version. “My mother died when my brother and I were born. Sean and I were twins. Dad raised us. He’s an accountant.”

“A twin! That’s great. What does your brother do?”

After Verity swallowed hard, she managed to say, “I lost Sean last January to a skiing accident.” She went to pick up the ladle, but a blur of tears made her fumble it and drop it on the floor.

Leo stooped at the same time she did. His fingers brushed hers, and he took the ladle from her hand. When they both straightened, they were standing much too close, and he was looking down at her with so much compassion she couldn’t blink away the tears fast enough.

“I’m sorry, Verity.”

Embarrassed by the emotion she couldn’t quell, she turned away from him toward the counter and took a few deep breaths. When she felt Leo’s hand on her shoulder, she almost stopped breathing altogether.

“I’m okay,” she murmured, feeling foolish.

Gently he nudged her around to face him. “No, you aren’t. And I understand why. I know what loss feels like. Losing a spouse, losing a twin…Those are bonds that aren’t easily broken.”

“I don’t want the bond to be broken,” she admitted. “Not ever.” Suddenly she realized that’s the way Leo probably felt about his wife. “The eggs are going to burn,” she whispered.

“Can’t let that happen,” he said, and stepped away from her to tend to his part of the breakfast while she picked up a paper towel to wipe waffle batter from the floor.

Putting the breakfast on the table took little effort, but Verity busied herself with it as Leo helped Heather get settled on her booster seat.

Heather pointed to her waffle and looked up at Verity. “Please make a face.”

The first day Verity had made the waffles for Heather, she wasn’t sure if she was going to eat them. But after Verity had used syrup and a dab of butter to make a face on the waffle, Heather had eaten the whole thing. Now Verity fashioned a face again as Heather giggled and Leo looked on, making her feel self-conscious.

Suddenly there was a beep-beep-beep, and Verity realized it came from Leo’s pocket.

After he answered his cell phone, he said, “Jolene. Hi. What’s up? No, I’m not at the boatyard yet. I’m still at home having breakfast.”

His sister must have made some comment about that because he explained, “I just needed some time with Heather. She hurt herself yesterday, and I realized I haven’t been around very much.” Then he explained what had happened.

After a long pause he responded, “I’m going to the boatyard as soon as I’m finished. I’m sure Heather would love it if you would pick her up and take her to the arts festival at the lake.”

Today artists would have their work displayed all around Avon Lake. There would be vendors with various foods, activities for kids and wandering musicians. Verity had thought about taking Heather there herself.

Now she said to Leo, “I’d be glad to take Heather and meet Jolene there. I want to go, too.”

After Leo relayed what Verity had said to his sister, he asked Verity, “Around ten at the Shakespeare statue?”

Verity nodded. “Sounds good.”

Leo closed the phone, reattached it to his belt and asked, “Are you sure you don’t mind driving Heather there?”

“I don’t mind. Really. I was planning to go after you got home.”

“Will you buy a painting?” he asked jokingly.

“Actually, I might, if I see something I like. If that’s okay with you. I mean, hanging it.”

“I’m not a landlord who’s going to keep your security deposit if you put too many holes in the walls.” His blue eyes were amused.

“I’ve just never been in this kind of position before,” she said truthfully. “I don’t know the rules.”

“No rules, Verity. As long as you put Heather first, that’s all that matters.”

He was absolutely right on that score. She would put Heather first, of course, and try to block Leo Montgomery from her dreams.

Leo parked in a lot near the lake. As he’d sat in his office, studying each page of the new sales brochure, he hadn’t been able to keep his mind on it. He hadn’t been able to keep his mind off Verity. So he’d put in two hours, then driven to the festival.

His life had become a treadmill of work, putting Heather to bed now and then, sleep and more work. Even before Carolyn died, he’d started putting in longer hours. Had it been because of her remoteness? Had it been because he’d sensed she was keeping something from him?