touching some place inside her that she'd never known existed before. And then to suffer the coldness, the hurt when he withdrew his arms, to wonder about the woman he'd be seeing tonight…
She scrambled to her feet. Things had gone too far, but it still wasn't too late to save herself, to keep herself emotionally intact. She was convinced of that. She'd always been in control of her own life, and that wasn't about to change. She wouldn't let it. Kate slammed down the lid of the chest, but then lifted it up again to tuck in a wayward corner of the burgundy gown. The poor thing shouldn't suffer just because of Steven Reid.
Later that afternoon Kate paid an unexpected visit to her mother, and that alone was a measure of how badly she'd been shaken. It was never easy to return to the house she'd grown up in, to reenter a world she had escaped at eighteen. She went there now without quite knowing what she expected to gain, just knowing that she had to go.
She drove slowly, however, wanting to prolong her enjoyment of the beauty around her. For Kate, San Francisco had always been a city of color. It wasn't just the vivid blue of the sky and the bay. It was the exuberance of all those Victorian houses, flaunting their bright new coats of paint: green, red, purple, orange, yellow. Gables, columns and trim had colors all their own, decorating the houses like extra swirls of frosting on a cake.
But there was at least one street in town where no one had caught the spirit of color. Kate turned onto it and pulled up in front of one of the small, dreary houses. Here and there an individual touch defied the uniform drabness of the street: a scraggly bush trimmed into pompons, a window box of geraniums, a door painted apple green. But the house where Kate's mother still lived exhibited no such rebellion. The outside walls were a dingy and faded tan. How Kate had always hated them! With a sigh she climbed out of the Bug. She brought along the silk roses she'd managed to buy after dipping into just a bit of her rent money. She could never come here without a gift of something beautiful.
The door flew open at her knock, and she was swept up into a flurry of kittens, fuzzy slippers and billows of material in an alarming pattern of muddy red poppies. Her mother's arms embraced her, silk flowers and all.
"Oh, they're lovely, Katie. You always bring me the loveliest things. I'm so happy to see you, dear. Come along!" Lorna Melrose sped down the hall, her slippers moving at a good clip. One kitten was hooked under her arm, two others scurried at her heels. How many more might be hiding in the poppy housecoat that enveloped Lorna's plump figure? Kate smiled, remembering how as a child she had cried into and been comforted by her mother's too-big housecoats. Mrs. Melrose had never complained when her children clutched at her with sticky hands and teary faces. She was the same way with her many grandchildren now. Kate might have wished to change a lot of things about her mother, but never, never those all-comforting housecoats.
"I know just the thing for these roses. Yes, yes, let me see…" Lorna popped into a closet overflowing with clothes, an old badminton set and several umbrellas. "Dear me, help me out, Katie." Kate found herself balancing two kittens in her arms, as well as the flowers. A moment later her mother emerged triumphantly clutching a box overflowing with tissue paper. Her cheeks were pink under the flyaway gray hair. "The cut-glass vase you gave me. It'll be perfect."
"Oh, Mother!" Kate exclaimed, a kitten ear tickling her nose. "Do you mean it's been in the box all this time? I gave it to you so you could enjoy it."
"But I
have
enjoyed it, dear. Knowing it's safe here, in all its loveliness. And now you've brought roses that will always be in bloom. I knew I was saving this for just the right moment. Go ahead, dear, arrange the flowers. I've always loved to watch you with them, from the time you were a little girl."
Kate
She scrambled to her feet. Things had gone too far, but it still wasn't too late to save herself, to keep herself emotionally intact. She was convinced of that. She'd always been in control of her own life, and that wasn't about to change. She wouldn't let it. Kate slammed down the lid of the chest, but then lifted it up again to tuck in a wayward corner of the burgundy gown. The poor thing shouldn't suffer just because of Steven Reid.
Later that afternoon Kate paid an unexpected visit to her mother, and that alone was a measure of how badly she'd been shaken. It was never easy to return to the house she'd grown up in, to reenter a world she had escaped at eighteen. She went there now without quite knowing what she expected to gain, just knowing that she had to go.
She drove slowly, however, wanting to prolong her enjoyment of the beauty around her. For Kate, San Francisco had always been a city of color. It wasn't just the vivid blue of the sky and the bay. It was the exuberance of all those Victorian houses, flaunting their bright new coats of paint: green, red, purple, orange, yellow. Gables, columns and trim had colors all their own, decorating the houses like extra swirls of frosting on a cake.
But there was at least one street in town where no one had caught the spirit of color. Kate turned onto it and pulled up in front of one of the small, dreary houses. Here and there an individual touch defied the uniform drabness of the street: a scraggly bush trimmed into pompons, a window box of geraniums, a door painted apple green. But the house where Kate's mother still lived exhibited no such rebellion. The outside walls were a dingy and faded tan. How Kate had always hated them! With a sigh she climbed out of the Bug. She brought along the silk roses she'd managed to buy after dipping into just a bit of her rent money. She could never come here without a gift of something beautiful.
The door flew open at her knock, and she was swept up into a flurry of kittens, fuzzy slippers and billows of material in an alarming pattern of muddy red poppies. Her mother's arms embraced her, silk flowers and all.
"Oh, they're lovely, Katie. You always bring me the loveliest things. I'm so happy to see you, dear. Come along!" Lorna Melrose sped down the hall, her slippers moving at a good clip. One kitten was hooked under her arm, two others scurried at her heels. How many more might be hiding in the poppy housecoat that enveloped Lorna's plump figure? Kate smiled, remembering how as a child she had cried into and been comforted by her mother's too-big housecoats. Mrs. Melrose had never complained when her children clutched at her with sticky hands and teary faces. She was the same way with her many grandchildren now. Kate might have wished to change a lot of things about her mother, but never, never those all-comforting housecoats.
"I know just the thing for these roses. Yes, yes, let me see…" Lorna popped into a closet overflowing with clothes, an old badminton set and several umbrellas. "Dear me, help me out, Katie." Kate found herself balancing two kittens in her arms, as well as the flowers. A moment later her mother emerged triumphantly clutching a box overflowing with tissue paper. Her cheeks were pink under the flyaway gray hair. "The cut-glass vase you gave me. It'll be perfect."
"Oh, Mother!" Kate exclaimed, a kitten ear tickling her nose. "Do you mean it's been in the box all this time? I gave it to you so you could enjoy it."
"But I
have
enjoyed it, dear. Knowing it's safe here, in all its loveliness. And now you've brought roses that will always be in bloom. I knew I was saving this for just the right moment. Go ahead, dear, arrange the flowers. I've always loved to watch you with them, from the time you were a little girl."
Kate
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