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He knocked. Moments later, the door swung open. India stood there, her slender, enticing curves emphasized in sin-red silk. The dress hugged her body like a lover. The low-cut bodice was supported by the tiniest of spaghetti straps. A man could snap either one with a single hand.
“You look amazing.” He swallowed hard, envisioning an endless evening of wanting what he could not have. Her arms and shoulders were bare. A diamond pendant nestled just at the top of her cleavage. Matching earrings dangled from her small, delicate earlobes.
“Thank you,” she said. “I know it’s winter, but hotel ballrooms are always hot. I won’t be the only woman there to choose glam over gloomy. Winter needs spicing up. A fancy party, a new dress. I’m ready to go.”
She reached for her faux fur wrap. It was a cape-like affair with a single rhinestone clasp at the front. Farris took it from her and tucked it around her shoulders, careful not to muss her hair.
“I’ll be the envy of every man there,” he said lightly, trying to pretend that she wasn’t destroying him bit by bit.
They didn’t speak in the car. Each of them sat in a corner of the back seat with a large no-man’s-land in between.
What was she thinking?
The hotel was awash in tuxedo-clad men and brightly plumaged women. In the bar, Dottie greeted India with a hug. “You look absolutely riveting, sweet girl. I want you to meet Herman.”
Farris watched from a mental distance as the other three conversed. He inserted a response when necessary, but he was content to sip his Scotch and study India when she didn’t know he was watching her.
His ex-wife’s laugh lit up the room. Herman was charmed. Dottie was delighted. Only Farris would be a loser tonight.
When they finally abandoned the cozy, dimly lit bar, checked their coats and made their way into the ballroom, Dottie grew silent. Herman had her hand in his, but Dottie was clearly abashed by the upcoming attention.
Farris kissed his mother’s cheek. “Relax, Mother. Everyone here thinks you’re the best. This is your night.”
As they took their seats, India put her napkin in her lap and glanced at him with an odd expression. “That was one reason I fell for you in the beginning,” she said quietly. “I loved the way you cared for your mother. I decided that any man with so much honor and respect for the woman who birthed him was a man who would never let me down.”
“Inkie,” he groaned. Her words tore him apart.
But the evening’s festivities were well underway.
The meal was served seamlessly. Farris barely tasted anything he ate. India seemed to enjoy the food. As did everyone else at the table.
Then came the champagne and the awards. A few hospital staff were recognized. A donor who was funding a new cancer treatment center. And finally, it was time for the volunteers.
The emcee handed out a few five-year recognitions. A couple of ten-year. Then it was Dottie’s moment. The chief administrator stood at the podium and spoke eloquently about Dottie’s cheerful, steadfast service to the public during her many years at Saint Mary’s.
Herman beamed. The distinguished man took Dottie’s arm and escorted her to the stage. As the room clapped and cheered, Dottie stepped to the microphone. It had to be lowered for her.
“I am so honored,” she said, her voice quavering with emotion. “The truth is, volunteering is selfish, really. I find great reward in getting to know the patients and staff at Saint Mary’s. Like many people, I suffered through hard times early in my life. But that is far in the past. What I want to do now, what I’ve always wanted to do, is to live each day with purpose and joy.” She looked out across the room. “The one person I need to thank more than any other is my son, Farris Quinn. He has been my rock and my protector since he was very young.”
She blew a kiss to Farris, who managed a smile.
Then Dottie went on. “I appreciate this recognition more than you know. It reminds me that we are all connected, we are all family. If any of you have considered volunteering at Saint Mary’s, I encourage you to jump right in. It’s never too late to do the right thing.”
Farris felt his face burn. Was that a dig at him? Or were Dottie’s words a coincidence? There was no way she could know what he had done.
When his mother returned to the table, her mood was bubbly.
Farris stood and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Mother. That was a sweet speech.”
Herman nodded. “Beautifully done, Dottie.”
“You were eloquent,” India said.
At that moment, the emcee wrapped things up and urged the crowd to adjourn to the adjacent ballroom where an orchestra was already playing.
Herman lifted Dottie’s hand and kissed it. “I’d like to dance with the star of the evening.”
“Oh, pooh,” Dottie said. “I was one of many.” But her bashful, pleased smile said she appreciated being the center of attention.
