lunch. And he certainly wasn’t delighted to find me still there at dinnertime. He’s more than protective. He’s out to protect you from me personally.”
“That’s silly,” she said. “Of course he’s not.” That was only half-true. Ned was protective; he just wasn’t protecting Shell. And he seemed to think it was through some negligence on her part that Jase was there. As if she’d had any choice in the matter!
She rolled her eyes; remembering her mother’s comments, too, when she’d gone to Lil’s bedroom to say good night.
“What a honey your Jase is,” she’d whispered to Shell as they hugged. “I can’t remember when I’ve met a nicer man, one who suited you more, and I can see that you like him a lot.”
Before Shell could protest, Lil had added, “He likes you, too, baby doll, so see that you don’t chase him away by being unnecessarily cautious.” She’d pulled a scornful face. “That Ned. Really, the man takes things, and himself, far too seriously. See to it that you don’t start acting like him, all right?”
Shell hadn’t argued. Her mother was so tired, she’d told herself, she didn’t know what she was saying. Unnecessarily cautious? Taking things too seriously? There was no such thing when it came to protecting Lil’s privacy. That caution had been bred into her and had become so ingrained, she couldn’t exist outside of its strictures. She wondered if her mother’s disease had resumed its inexorable progress and was affecting her thought processes. It was completely unlike Lil to be as careless with a stranger as she had been with Jase.
No wonder Ned had been having fits.
From the time she was ten years old, Shell had been taught never to tell anybody much about herself, her parents, or her upbringing, particularly about how she had lived before coming to the Sunshine Coast and Piney Point. Yet all day Lil had been less than discreet in her choice of subjects for discussion. Ned and Shell and Kathleen had shared more than one alarmed glance at some of her disclosures.
“Ned’s … very old-fashioned,” she said now in response to Jase’s comment. “I don’t suppose his finding you in my house this morning dressed only in a blanket did much to endear you to him. Don’t take his actions personally. He’d have been that way no matter who you were.”
Jase laughed. “Not true, Shell. He simply doesn’t like me. Or trust me. And it all seems centered on my coming from California. It was my license plates far more than my state of undress that originally got his back up. Why, Shell? Is it because you and your mother lived there for a time? Did something happen there that makes Ned distrust Californians on her behalf and yours?”
Shell stumbled. That was too near the mark for comfort!
Jase steadied her, then caught her hand, holding on to it.
“No,” she said quickly. “What could have happened? It’s just that Ned has a—a strange attitude about tourists. To him, everyone who crosses the forty-ninth parallel is automatically suspect. Californians, of course, being the worst of a bad bunch.” She lowered her tone, sounding deeply condemning. “Useless parasites every one, brains either fried by too much sun or numbed by smog. Drug dealers, addicts, or AIDS carriers, if not all three.”
She and Jase shared a laugh. She thought about twisting her hand free, but it felt nice—no, more than nice—to walk shoulder to shoulder with him, their fingers linked together. “I don’t know how he deals with me,” she continued. “I was born there, after all, lived there for the most of the first ten years of my life.”
“Ah, but your dual citizenship must have made all the difference.”
“I suppose.” She glanced up at him. How in hell did he know about her dual citizenship? The answer came on the heels of the unvoiced question: The Internet. Of course. “Don’t let Ned get to you, Jase, please. He’s like that with all strangers.”
“He
“That’s silly,” she said. “Of course he’s not.” That was only half-true. Ned was protective; he just wasn’t protecting Shell. And he seemed to think it was through some negligence on her part that Jase was there. As if she’d had any choice in the matter!
She rolled her eyes; remembering her mother’s comments, too, when she’d gone to Lil’s bedroom to say good night.
“What a honey your Jase is,” she’d whispered to Shell as they hugged. “I can’t remember when I’ve met a nicer man, one who suited you more, and I can see that you like him a lot.”
Before Shell could protest, Lil had added, “He likes you, too, baby doll, so see that you don’t chase him away by being unnecessarily cautious.” She’d pulled a scornful face. “That Ned. Really, the man takes things, and himself, far too seriously. See to it that you don’t start acting like him, all right?”
Shell hadn’t argued. Her mother was so tired, she’d told herself, she didn’t know what she was saying. Unnecessarily cautious? Taking things too seriously? There was no such thing when it came to protecting Lil’s privacy. That caution had been bred into her and had become so ingrained, she couldn’t exist outside of its strictures. She wondered if her mother’s disease had resumed its inexorable progress and was affecting her thought processes. It was completely unlike Lil to be as careless with a stranger as she had been with Jase.
No wonder Ned had been having fits.
From the time she was ten years old, Shell had been taught never to tell anybody much about herself, her parents, or her upbringing, particularly about how she had lived before coming to the Sunshine Coast and Piney Point. Yet all day Lil had been less than discreet in her choice of subjects for discussion. Ned and Shell and Kathleen had shared more than one alarmed glance at some of her disclosures.
“Ned’s … very old-fashioned,” she said now in response to Jase’s comment. “I don’t suppose his finding you in my house this morning dressed only in a blanket did much to endear you to him. Don’t take his actions personally. He’d have been that way no matter who you were.”
Jase laughed. “Not true, Shell. He simply doesn’t like me. Or trust me. And it all seems centered on my coming from California. It was my license plates far more than my state of undress that originally got his back up. Why, Shell? Is it because you and your mother lived there for a time? Did something happen there that makes Ned distrust Californians on her behalf and yours?”
Shell stumbled. That was too near the mark for comfort!
Jase steadied her, then caught her hand, holding on to it.
“No,” she said quickly. “What could have happened? It’s just that Ned has a—a strange attitude about tourists. To him, everyone who crosses the forty-ninth parallel is automatically suspect. Californians, of course, being the worst of a bad bunch.” She lowered her tone, sounding deeply condemning. “Useless parasites every one, brains either fried by too much sun or numbed by smog. Drug dealers, addicts, or AIDS carriers, if not all three.”
She and Jase shared a laugh. She thought about twisting her hand free, but it felt nice—no, more than nice—to walk shoulder to shoulder with him, their fingers linked together. “I don’t know how he deals with me,” she continued. “I was born there, after all, lived there for the most of the first ten years of my life.”
“Ah, but your dual citizenship must have made all the difference.”
“I suppose.” She glanced up at him. How in hell did he know about her dual citizenship? The answer came on the heels of the unvoiced question: The Internet. Of course. “Don’t let Ned get to you, Jase, please. He’s like that with all strangers.”
“He
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