The Ties That Bind

sweep of dark hair framed wide, heavily fringed hazel eyes and a soft mouth. There was a faint sprinkling of freckles across the assertive nose that lent a note of whimsy to Shannon's features. The whimsical motif was echoed in the snug-fitting jeans, the silk-screened sweatshirt and the well-broken-in leather loafers she wore.
    "You've been starving for the past seven months." Dan laughed indulgently as he came around the hood of the old Volkswagen Bug he had lovingly maintained. He was a couple of years older than Annie, dark eyed and dark haired with a full mustache.
    "You know how it is when you're eating for two," Annie said, patting her stomach complacently as she stepped through the door. "Umm. Smells delicious. What are we having. Shannon?"
    "Pasta with olives and basil sauce and a salad. I got the basil fresh from Becky today. Don't worry, there's plenty."
    Dan was smiling knowingly behind his mustache as he examined the fourth place setting at the table. "Expecting someone else?"
    "Not any longer. If he were going to show I think he would have been here by now. He's a writer. Possibly a poet. You know the type, all dark and brooding and unpredictable. You can never tell what they'll do. I left the invitation open but I get the feeling he-"
    The short double knock on the door she had just closed startled Shannon so much that she nearly jumped.
    "Looks like your friend couldn't resist a free meal," Annie remarked.
    "What starving writer could?" Dan asked philosophically as Shannon opened the door. He scanned the tall, dark figure on the threshold and added half under his breath to Annie, "This one looks like he needs his groceries on a regular basis."
    Shannon ignored the comment as she smiled up at Garth. "I'm so glad you could come," she said, unaware of just how much welcoming warmth there was in her voice. She stood aside for him to enter and then hurriedly made introductions, which her visitors accepted politely.
    "Sit down, all of you," Shannon requested, feeling remarkably happy as she hurried toward the kitchen with a new sense of anticipation. "I'll get the drinks. Annie, you're still on fruit juice?"
    "Two more months of it and then I'll be free," Annie confirmed as Dan helped her gently into a chair.
    Garth said nothing as he gravely took the goblet of Almaden Mountain White that Shannon offered. His crystal-colored eyes met hers for an instant, and she thought she saw a remote curiosity there. Whatever questions were going through his head, he didn't voice them. In fact, he didn't say much at all. He seemed content to sit in the overstuffed chair and drink his wine while he watched the other three with a distant gaze. It was only when Dan said something about his writing that Garth asked his first question.
    "What sort of books do you write?"
    "Those trashy glitz novels. You know the type. Everyone's sleeping with everyone else and all the characters are thoroughly neurotic." Dan grinned cheerfully.
    "I don't read much fiction" was all Garth said. There was a moment of blank silence.
    The conversation might have gone on the rocks then and there if it hadn't been for Annie. She started chatting determinedly about the crib she had located for the baby.
    "Dan and I are going to refinish it next week. It's going to be lovely. Shannon, I was thinking of having you design some stencils I could use to decorate it. Interested? I could trade you a couple of macrame pot hangers."
    "I'll be glad to do the stencils, but consider it a baby-shower gift. What would you like? Bunnies and teddy bears?"
    "Are you kidding? I want some of those great illuminated letters you put on your greeting cards and totes. With any luck the kid will grow up learning how to read Medieval Latin."
    "Not a very useful accomplishment," Garth observed.
    There were a few seconds of awkwardness before Dan intervened to say, "Shannon tells me you're a writer, Garth."
    Garth slanted a mildly reproving look at Shannon, who immediately got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I wonder what made her think that?"
    "Oh, Shannon has a rather vivid imagination," Dan said dryly. "I take it you're not a writer, then?"
    "No. I run an electronics firm in San Jose."
    Shannon nearly fell off her chair in astonishment. A businessman? Her dark, brooding poet? "I would never have guessed that."
    "Then maybe your imagination isn't quite as vivid as your friends seem to think." Garth managed to soften the sarcasm but just barely. Before Shannon