Late Bloomer Read online

  Nothing is as humbling as helping your grandmother into a tub. Mama V definitely had trouble maneuvering. Although her bathing suit was beautiful, her scars were apparent. “You must think I’m a crazy old fool,” her grandmother said, settling back in the water. “But I want to still enjoy everything that I can.”

  “I think you’ve got the right attitude, as long as someone is here to help you.”

  “Well, of course.” Her grandmother had definitely visited the spa before and probably not alone. Off to one side a peaceful waterfall calmed the questions percolating in Carolyn’s head. Howard was none of her business. She would just relax.

  “Is the water toasty, Mama V?” She slid the robe from her shoulders.

  “No it’s not roasting. Just warm.”

  “Oh, I said...” But Carolyn buttoned her lips. Why make her grandmother feel bad? Obviously, something was going on with her hearing. But that could wait.

  In no time, she was in the water, head resting on the curved lip of the tub. Birds flitted through the trees overhead.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” her grandmother asked.

  Seated in the warm water, Carolyn felt her muscles relax. “This is so different from any hot tub I’ve ever been in.” A breeze rustled the needles of the pine trees, releasing a fresh, clean scent.

  “Soaking is so relaxing. I guess that’s how the Japanese do it.”

  She couldn’t help it. Curiosity got the better of her. “So you’ve been here before?”

  “Oh, yes.” Eyes shut, Mama V tilted her lips into a smile. She must be remembering a wonderful experience. Maybe Brody was right about Howard.

  “You came with Howard?”

  “Sure did. His treat.” The smile widened.

  Okay, imagining Howard Haynes in one of these outdoor teacup tubs brought on a fit of giggles.

  “What?” With a splash, her grandmother sat up. Her bathing cap slid lower, and she jabbed at it with a wet hand.

  “Nothing. It’s just hard to picture my grandmother in this romantic place with her...beau.”

  “Why?” Her face puckered with hurt.

  “Just not what I expected.” She tried to coax her grandmother into seeing her point of view. “You know, I pictured myself helping you shop for groceries, cleaning up the house, maybe reading with you in the sunlight.”

  Her grandmother was laughing. “We can do that if you like. Sounds sweet but boring.”

  “No way.” Carolyn slid deeper into her tub. “I’ll take this anytime over cleaning house. It’ll be a long time before I’m bobbing on Lake Michigan in an inner tube.” The image didn’t bring the usual welcome rush.

  “Summer will be here before you know it,” her grandmother said with her usual complacency.

  “Weren’t you nervous about moving all the way out here?” Carolyn just couldn’t imagine it. “Santa Fe is wonderful, but you were so settled in Chicago.”

  Running her fingers across the top of the water, her grandmother studied the ripples. “I didn’t want my life to end with your grandfather’s death. He’d always encouraged me to keep growing. Sometimes I think he was preparing me.”

  “Grandpa was like that.” Still, that took a lot of courage.

  “You can’t grow by doing the same thing day after day, even when you like those things. You know, ice cream at Petersen’s. There’s always going to be another ice cream parlor.” They both laughed. “Not that I ever anticipated meeting Howard. That wasn’t it at all.”

  They relaxed in the warm water. The two of them always had a lot to talk about. Carolyn missed these quiet times together since Mama V had relocated. They shared so many great memories.

  Before long, it was time for their massage. Carolyn helped Mama V from the tub. They both pulled on their robes and rubber-soled slippers. Then they followed the warm stone path to the massage area where two tables sat ready.

  Two girls named Marisa and Adele took them through the drill. Only it was more a ritual. Then it was time for placing the warm stones. By then, the two of them were stretched out on their tummies. When Marisa placed the stones slowly along her spine, Carolyn eased out a sigh. Adele did the same with Mama V. In a short time, the manual massage began.

  This could be a major turn-on, Carolyn soon realized, but not with your grandmother. The time passed so quickly, she even fell asleep while Marisa worked magic with her hands. When the massage was over, they found their way to their room. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt this relaxed. It was hard to leave Ten Thousand Waves behind.

  On their way back home, Carolyn’s phone rang. It was Brody.

  “Got plans for tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow’s plans?” She glanced over at her grandmother.

  “Don’t look at me. Hope you don’t mind, dear, but I’m busy tomorrow.”

  Probably not true but Carolyn wasn’t going to argue. “What did you have in mind?” Her active imagination offered suggestions involving Brody and bare skin. How crazy was this?

  “We talked about Museum Hill. It might give you a better feeling for Santa Fe’s history.”

  “I’m all for it.” Somehow, everything sounded better with him.

  “Ten o’clock?”

  “Sounds good. Hey, don’t you ever work?”

  “Not when my favorite former teacher is in town.”

  The words sent heatthrough her. “So I’m really your favorite?”

  “Oh yeah, Miss Knight.” The words were a purr. “Definitely.”

  Her glance cut to the left. Thank goodness her grandmother couldn’t hear well.

  “See you tomorrow then. Ten o’clock.”

  The call ended. She tucked the phone into her bag.

  “You know, your voice changes completely with when you talk to that young man,” her grandmother said, mischief dancing in her eyes. Maybe laugh lines were worth having.

  Carolyn felt her life shifting and it was all good.

  Chapter 11

  Brody stood on Carolyn’s porch, head bowed and heart pumping. Damn. His stomach felt like he was taking a crazy carnival ride. He was nervous. Deep in his gut, today mattered. His hand was even shaking when he rang the bell.

  When she answered the door, Carolyn’s smile bathed him, warmer than sunlight. And the sun was blazing today. “Hey, Brody.”

  “H-Hey.” That’s all he could get out. She had that effect on him. Just looking at her, he felt overheated. How could a woman look so sexy in a plain white shirt?

  Carolyn pushed open the door. “Come on in.”

  “Brody, is that you?” Mama V was sitting on the rattan sofa.

  “Sure is.” He couldn’t help but smile. Her dress, or whatever it was, matched the cushions–– bright pink and orange. And those oversized flower earrings? She was a trip. “Aren’t you looking pretty today?”

  While her grandmother blushed, Carolyn threw him an appreciative look. Sometimes he actually said the right thing.

  “Carolyn tells me you’re headed to Museum Hill today.”

  “Yes, ma’am. We are.” His lips felt tight. The moment of truth.

  “I love it up there,” she said wistfully. “The view is fabulous. And of course the museums.”

  So the view was more important than the museums? What if Carolyn felt the same? His enthusiasm faltered. Maybe he had this all wrong.

  Reaching into a closet, Carolyn took out a suede jacket. He helped her slip into it. It felt soft in his hands. “Something new?” She smelled of lavender.

  “Yes, a gift from my grandmother.”

  “Soft.” And cuddly. Carolyn looked totally hot in those torn jeans, plain white shirt, and then this soft, touchable suede.

  “You braided your hair.” The only benefit of that swept back style was that it emphasized the earrings he’d given her.

  “Sure did.” Then she added softly, “Not your favorite, I know.”

  He chuckled and she grinned, their minds filling in the blanks.

  “Doesn’t she look just beautifu
l?” her grandmother said.

  “Gorgeous.” Anticipation spiked the air. Being with Carolyn made him feel happy. They could be heading out to enjoy a simple sunset and he’d be satisfied. “Well, see you later then?”

  “Have fun, you two.” Mama V waved them away.

  “Oh, we will.” Face flushed, Carolyn led him to the door. Outside, she glanced up as they walked to the SUV in the bright sunlight. “Will you just look at this ? Not a cloud.”

  “We have a lot of sunny days. That’s why everything is so dry. We need water.” He was blabbing. Trying to fill the air with safe weather words so he wouldn’t put his foot in his mouth. It would not be cool to say, I want you, Carolyn Knight. Want you in the worst way. He didn’t want the day to just be about that. When he opened the passenger door, Carolyn swung up with the grace of an antelope, looking so fine in those tight fitting jeans.

  “Thanks for inviting me, Brody.”

  When she struggled with the seatbelt, he leaned over and helped. “There. All set.” He backed out. “Don’t want to lose you.”

  “Glad to hear it. I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

  Was she kidding? “It’s been hard to stay away.” Then he saw her confused look. “I didn’t want to be a pest. You know. You’re here to visit your grandmother.”

  Her lips formed a luscious circle. “Oh.”

  It took a lot of self-restraint to back away. Head down, he circled the back of the car. The weather wasn’t on his mind. “At least Mama V didn’t give you a curfew,” he said when he jumped up inside.

  “Nope, that’s far behind me. So tell me about these museums.”

  As they drove to Museum Hill, he filled her in somewhat. If you wanted to really get to know New Mexico, this was a great place to start. And he wanted the museums to speak for themselves. In ten minutes, they were there.

  “Pretty impressive,” she murmured as they parked in the lot. Stone steps led up to the structures. “The tour bus turned around down here so I never saw anything.”

  “What? Today we’ll be going inside.” She’d been with that wimp Alan. Nice enough but not good enough for her. Circling the car, it hit him. Was he good enough for Carolyn? Would Carolyn accept him and his complicated history? So much hinged on today.

  Together they walked up the broad stone steps. He wanted to put his arm around her. Be closer to her the way they were coming back from El Farol. But in all fairness, he first wanted her to know more about him.

  At the top of the stairs, she turned and he stood with her. This was one of his favorite views. Her eyes swept the countryside around them. “Kind of wild, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is.” Maybe he was just imagining the appreciation in her voice.

  She turned, her eyes darkening to swirling caramel. “Like you.”

  “Wild? Maybe that’s why I love it here.”

  They studied each other. But he didn’t want her to think of him like that. She was thinking of the old Brody again. “To be honest, Carolyn, my wild child days are over.”

  Her quick side-glance told him she may not believe him. Taking her elbow, he steered her toward the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture. “Okay if we start here?”

  “Whatever you say.” A strand of hair had worked loose from that damned braid. It danced at the corner of her lips. He couldn’t help himself when he brushed it aside and kissed her. The kiss was just a teasing sweep, and he wanted way more. She swallowed hard, and he rocked his forehead onto hers. “Been thinking about you.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” she whispered.

  They both took a shaky breath. “Guess we should look at the museum,” he finally said. She turned toward the sculpture garden. He took her hand, so small and dainty in his.

  “Will you just look at that statue?”

  “Like it?” He waited for her response, not wanting to blow this.

  “Love it!”

  Relief opened a small door. The huge metal piece was a warrior, machete in one hand and arrow in the other. But in front of the wide, low structure were other sculptures, many of Native American women. Carolyn took her time, admiring each one while he followed.

  “Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

  Hope prickled in his chest.

  They went inside. “Hey, Brody,” Kayla said, handing him the tickets. “How’s it going?” She looked at Carolyn, obviously curious.

  “Just fine.” No way was he introducing them. Give Kayla a name, and by dinner time it might be bandied about town like yesterday’s taco.

  Besides, he didn’t want to hurt Justine’s feelings. She’d been a trouper about the whole thing. He didn’t want her to think he’d been two-timing her. If he hadn’t run into Carolyn, he might still be spending time with Justine. But that would be it.

  And these feelings he had for Carolyn? Totally different from what he’d ever felt before. Different and precious.

  Heading inside, they began the tour. Carolyn’s comments as they passed the glass cases eased his anxiety. “Will you just look at the jewelry! Such craftsmanship!”

  Unlike some women, she wasn’t talking about the pieces as if she wanted to hang them around her neck. No, the reverence in her voice was all about the art. Her praise soothed his jittery stomach.

  “Oh, Brody. These pots. How old are they?” Her enthusiasm continued in the next room. Stooping, she read the information posted with each pot.

  “Why, the pottery carries history.” She glanced up.

  “Yep, sure does. Ancestry.” And he almost admitted it right there and then. But it wasn’t the time. He wanted her to have the whole picture. They walked on.

  The colorful woven blankets got her started all over again. The colors, the designs. She didn’t miss a thing. And she seemed sincere. A while back, he’d brought a date here. But Kelsey hadn’t appreciated any of it. She complained about the dust and her allergies.

  Carolyn was different. Right now she was practically pressing her nose against the glass to see better and he smiled. “So these patterns have been passed on?” She turned back to him.

  “Right. From one generation to the next until they were finally housed here.”

  “Wow. Some of these are huge.” And she pointed to one that must have been three feet tall and just about as wide.

  “Probably used for grain or water.” This felt so weird. This time she was the student.

  “And the ones with two openings?” She pointed. “They look special.”

  His heart started to pound, crazy as a wild pony. “Those are wedding vases. Some say the medicine man...”

  Her eyes widened. “There actually was a medicine man?”

  “Yes, there were wise men in each tribe who knew how to cure with herbs, performed sacred ceremonies––things like that.”

  “How amazing.” She was like a little girl, hands clasped together.

  “Probably so. The medicine man would pour in a love potion, or so the stories go. The bride and groom would both drink.” He froze. Suddenly he could see the two of them, sipping from a vase like this. The mental picture shook him to the core.

  Her lips parted in wonderment. Forget the pot. For a crazy moment he wanted to drink from those lips. “How beautiful.” One hand went out as if to touch it. When he tucked it back into his own, his heart began to beat again.

  They kept moving. She asked questions and he answered. But all he wanted to look at was her simple beauty and that genuine spark of interest in her eyes.

  “You know a lot about all this. I’m impressed,” she said at one point.

  “Yep.” He glanced down at his boots.

  “You’re so modest.” She teased him, coming closer until she tipped her face up. If eyes could spark, theirs did. Carolyn stumbled back. He caught her.

  “I better watch where I’m walking.”

  “I’m keeping an eye on you.”

  “So I noticed,” she said with a crooked smile.

  Finally, they came to the area that gave Brody mixed feelings.
Videos played and Native Americans recounted their experiences. What was the life of an American Indian like? Each interview provided another look at a painful past and their uncertain future. Visitors came and went in the side room where the video played. Would she even be interested? Without hesitating, Carolyn slid onto one of the semicircular benches in front of the screen.

  The stories took him back. He knew most of these people who talked about feeling deprived of their heritage. Displaced and wandering. He didn’t know how that would sit with Carolyn. Leaning forward, she propped her chin on one hand. He gave her room. His father’s people spoke about preserving the past so their children would understand and appreciate their heritage.

  The moment came. An older man with a leathery, lined face came on. The name appeared on the screen as it had for the others. Lone Wolf. Brody started to sweat. He knew this interview word for word, but his skin prickled every time he heard it. His father told of a frustrated search for community, the depression that had led to alcoholism, the return to his pueblo that brought him some relief.

  At the end, Carolyn swung around to face him “Brody? Lone Wolf. Is he related?”

  “He’s my father.” And he waited.

  Her face drained. Thank God no one else was in the room. She’d want to go home now. This was complicated. Definitely not what a girl from Chicago could accept. He started to rise. Her hand shot out. “Wait a minute. You’re not going anywhere.” This reminded him of the time he’d tried to sneak a bathroom break without asking. She’d streaked out the front door of the classroom and intercepted him in the hall. “You are not going anywhere, young man, without a pass.”

  Of course the whole class heard it.

  “Talk to me.”

  He looked around. “How about lunch? We can talk in the restaurant.”

  “Sounds good. Sure.” Looking dazed, she looped her bag over one shoulder.

  Then she reached for his hand. He still stood a chance.

  ~.~

  Her head filling with what she’d just seen and heard, Carolyn followed Brody outside. Visitors were arriving, checking out the sculptures. But Carolyn was sorting through her stuff. How had she missed all this when Brody was in school? She prided herself on knowing her students, connecting with them. But for Brody, well, she just hadn’t.