“I also button coats, pour juice, and kiss away hurts...”Again she was interrupted by Billy.
“She’s not married, either.”
“Billy!”Skye snapped, her cheeks flushed crimson.
“It happens that way sometimes,” Jordan explained to Billy.“She’s pretty enough but has probably been jilted or hurt.It’ll take time before she’s ready to love again.”It was an open dare for Skye to contradict him.
Instead she laughed lightly, shrugging off the challenge.“Isee that the psychiatrist isin.Thank you for your analysis, Doctor.”The curve of her mouth softened into a smile.
His gray eyes held her look; he seemed to know she would not be easily provoked.
Now it was her turn to satisfy her curiosity.Putting down the fork, she asked, “How did you manage to get yourself into this fine mess?”
“Car accident.”He sounded annoyed, though his anger wasn’t directed at Skye but at himself.“Besides totaling my car, I managed to ruin my first vacation in years.”
“What happened?”she asked, chilled by the memory of another accident long ago.
“Lombard Street.”He groaned at his own stupidity.“I’d heard so much about San Francisco’s famous curved street and decided to take it as fast as possible.I didn’t make the last curve.”
Skye had read an account of the accident in the morning paper.The crazy fool was lucky not to have been killed—or to have killed someone else.Lombard Street, with eight consecutive turns at ninety-degree angles, was difficult to maneuver at the best of times.“Did you enjoy the novelty of reading about yourself this morning?”she asked, hiding her disapproval of such irresponsible behavior.
Some emotion flickered in his eyes, and for a brief second Skye thought it might be alarm.
“Are you a teacher, like Skye?”Billy interjected his own curiosity.
“No.I work for a radio station.”
Billy’s voice rose eagerly.“Are you a disc jockey?”
The pause was only momentary.“Among other things,” he remarked absently.“You say there was an accident report in the morning paper?”
“Would you like a copy?I’m sure there’s an extra paper in the lobby.I can get it if you like.”
“Please.”He sounded grateful.
Skye returned a few minutes later with a section of the paper.It was only a short account of the accident, a few sentences that didn’t give his name.
Jordan seemed to relax and joked, “What does a man have to do in this town to get his name in the paper?”
Gently Skye placed her hand on his arm.“Has your family been contacted?”
The slant of Jordan’s mouth became cynical.“As there is only my mother, I can’t see much point in distressing her over a few scratches.”
A badly broken arm could hardly be considered a scratch.Nonetheless, Skye laughed lightly.“Obviously the poor man has been jilted, Billy.He just hasn’t learned to trust again.Or as Sally would say—you’re either separated, divorced, or just plain unmarriageable.”
“At thirty-six, I suspect she’s right.”But Jordan didn’t enlighten her about which category he fit into.
Betty Fisher, Billy’s mother, arrived as Billy finished his meal, and she wheeled her son into the large recreation/visiting room at the end of the hall.
“You coming, Skye?”Billy asked, eager for her to join the children and play the piano.
“Not until later; I’ll only be a few minutes,” she promised.
Giving Jordan the last bit of his dinner, she asked, “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“When do I get dessert?”
“Soon,” she said.“I’ll take your tray to the cart and be right back.”
