Virginia seemed abo
ut to offer an argument, but thought better of it, to James’s relief. If Virginia had suggested that Stu’s job as a high-school principal was more important or more demanding than Shannon’s business, he thought Shannon’s irritation would probably have heated into genuine anger. He wouldn’t even have blamed her. He was just now beginning to understand why she complained about her family treating her like the indulged little sister who just played at life and work, no matter how hard she worked to establish her own identity.
Had he done the same when he’d suggested she take off to join him in Seattle? He shifted his feet uncomfortably, telling himself he really hadn’t intended it that way. He’d simply wanted to have her with him, knowing he would miss her while he was gone. That in itself was enough of a novelty to make him reevaluate his feelings about Shannon.
The brief argument was over almost as quickly as it began. Virginia dropped no further hints and Shannon kissed her mother good-night some twenty minutes later with her usual affection. “Good night, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetie. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Shannon went through the same ritual with her dad, exchanging good-nights and I-love-yous—saying a variation of the words to her brother and sister-in-law, nieces and nephew, all of whom assured her they loved her, too. James shook hands with the men, swapped cheek kisses with the women and accepted surprise good-night hugs from the kids, who seemed to think he was to be included when they made the rounds before leaving.
As he climbed into his car with Shannon afterward, he tried to remember the last time he’d told his own parents he loved them, or had them tell him in return. It had been a while. They had never made a habit of saying the words, as the Gambill family did so easily. He knew his parents loved him, and that they were proud of him, in their way, though such sentiments were rarely exchanged in their household.
In the passenger seat beside him, Shannon snapped her seat belt then released a long sigh.
Fastening his own belt, James started the car. “You sound tired.”
“A little,” she admitted. “It’s been a long day. I got up early for church service, had lunch afterward with an old friend, then had a meeting with…with a party client, and then barely had time to get home and change before you picked me up to come here. Kind of hectic.”
He noticed the slight stammer, but paid little attention. She was probably still stinging a little about her mother’s thoughtless dismissal of her party-business responsibilities. “I hope you know I’m aware of how hard you’re working to establish your business. When I asked you to join me for a few days in Seattle, it was because I hoped you’d be able to slip away for a short time, not because I don’t think your obligations here are important.”
“Thanks, James. I appreciated the invitation, really. It was sweet of you to ask me to join you there and to offer to pay the airfare. Just too short notice this time.”
“I understand.” He didn’t like it, but he understood, he added silently, ruefully acknowledging his own growing selfishness where Shannon was concerned.
Speaking of which…
“The old friend you had lunch with,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual, as if he were simply continuing the conversation. “Anyone you’ve mentioned before?”
“No, she was my best friend in high school. She’s in town on a quick trip to visit family. First chance we’ve had to get together in a couple of years.”
She. Unaccountably relieved by the pronoun, James relaxed a little in his seat, though the extent of that relief only made him worry a little more about how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to Shannon at the end of the month.
As many parties as she had organized in the past year, Shannon couldn’t remember ever being quite as nervous as she was about the surprise party for James. She and Haley, the unofficial representative from James’s circle of friends, had spent quite a bit of time on the telephone making hasty decisions during the week that had passed since she’d come up with the idea. Several times during that week, she had asked herself if the suggestion had come to her in a moment of insanity. Sure, she’d performed on short notice before, but this? This was crazy!
Haley, it turned out, was a genius at organization on her end of the planning. Haley was the one who contacted James’s friends with invitations, collected donations toward the party expenses and helped Shannon make final choices on options James might particularly like.
Fortunately, Shannon was a good friend to a caterer, Leslie O’Neill, whose services she used whenever possible for her parties, a favor her friend happily reciprocated for this party. Leslie decorated a cake and provided the food for the party, which was being held at Anne Easton’s parents’ elegant home in one of the wealthier Little Rock neighborhoods.
Anne had volunteered her parents’ home and they had generously agreed. Haley had explained to Shannon that the Eastons—a prominent local surgeon and a retired family court judge—often entertained on their lawn, and had hosted Anne’s friends on several occasions. James wouldn’t think it at all strange to be invited there for a late-summer picnic, Haley had assured Shannon in satisfaction.
Shannon spent much of that afternoon at the Easton home setting up for the party, with the assistance of Anne and Haley. Anne’s mother, Deloris, a petite blonde with a sweet smile and a slight limp left over from a stroke several years earlier—or so Haley had told Shannon—observed the preparations with interest, making an occasional suggestion based on her years of experience hosting such events.
Shannon was touched that everyone seemed so eager to make this gesture for James. It was increasingly obvious that he meant a great deal to these people, and that they respected him enormously. They acknowledged his innate reserve, but they were also aware of his kindness, his quiet competence, his generosity and his compassion. Perhaps he had a hard time expressing those qualities, but Haley confided to Shannon that his actions during their past three years of friendship had spoken for themselves.
“Our little group was sort of like a family,” she expounded as she wound a streamer of silver metallic stars around one pole of the big, open-sided white tent that had been erected on the lawn. “We each had a role to play. Anne was the nurturer, who always offered a sympathetic ear when we needed to talk. Ron made us laugh when we got too stressed. Connor was the coach and the teacher—because that was his job before he started medical school. He could always explain things clearly when we didn’t understand.”
“What was your role?” Shannon asked, amused by the descriptions.
Haley laughed wryly. “They called me the cheerleader. I was the one who seemed to give all the pep talks when morale started dropping. The one who assured everyone there was nothing we couldn’t do if we gave it our all.”
“And James?”
“James was our rock,” Anne said from nearby. “Calm and steady, quietly getting things done. His condo was always available for studying and his housekeeper always left healthy snacks and decadent treats to fuel us through those long sessions. The material seemed to come easily to him, but he worked right alongside us every minute, making sure we were all fed and hydrated and comfortable—he even made sure we took breaks during the sessions to play and stretch.”
She could see him fulfilling that role. Taking care of the others while asking for little for himself, taking interest in their lives while sharing little of his own. Not because he was being particularly secretive, she had concluded, but because he didn’t think his own life was all that interesting to the others.
The mention of his condo and his housekeeper reminded her again of the differences between their financial standings—but looking around the Easton estate, she supposed Anne could identify a bit more with James’s privileged background. Money or social status had not drawn the study group together, nor had they played any part in the bonds that would probably remain between them for a lifetime, no matter how far apart their career paths took them.