It might not ever be ready.
That snaps away the rest of the haze in my brain, and I take my free arm and start working on the ropes.
It takes us a little while to get unstrung, and I have to admit the honey was fun while I was kissing Leah, but now, trying to work and be all sticky is definitely not my thing.
I free her, and I walk back up the incline with both ropes while she goes to the river to wash up.
Not long after that, Bain comes out of the woods with firewood. It’s another two hours before we finally eat.
Unlike this morning, where everybody climbed in the boat and sat in the same seats they had yesterday, I’m paying attention tonight, and when Leah sits down, I grab the chair beside her. There isn’t going to be any of this sitting beside someone else while I watch her over the fire and my imagination goes wild over what she’s saying to someone else.
I don’t care if she talks to Bain or anyone. Not at all. She can talk to anyone she wants to of course, but if she wants to whisper sweet nothings, I want her to know I’m available.
Chapter 19
Leah
We arrived safely back to Cherry tree, right on time, with big smiles and hearts full of whatever it is that hearts are full of when everyone has had a great time.
Agnes has crossed yet another thing off her bucket list.
I think she actually has forgotten about her bucket list. Ever since she saw Doug kiss me, tied up with the honey and everything, I haven’t heard another word about bucket lists or about fake boyfriends, either.
It makes me feel like maybe her whole point of the bucket list was to get Doug and me together.
I’m not sure if we really are together.
I mean, I guess we are, but we haven’t talked about what that means. Maybe he doesn’t know, since neither of us are even sure we’ll have a job in a few weeks.
We got home late last night from the rafting trip and, while he did kiss me before I left, we didn’t talk.
Today has been kind of...busy.
While we were gone, the new floor cleaner I’d ordered had arrived, and, while Cherry Tree has a cleaning service, I wanted to try this out myself.
What I miss when I skim through the directions – I admit, I don’t really read the directions. It’s floor cleaner. How hard can it be? – is that it is super-concentrated.
I don’t have time to try it until after supper. I have the entire hallway scrubbed before Agnes starts walking towards me and falls.
I run to help her, thankfully she’s not hurt, but only make it two steps before I fall too.
The floor is so slippery, it is impossible to stand on.
Miss Agnes does an army crawl better than I do, and she has herself off the scrubbed part of the floor and is standing well before I get there.
“You better go back the other direction and keep people off of this. I’ll manage this side.” Agnes has figured out the situation and is reacting with determination and control as usual.
I am panicking.
She could have been hurt.
And, first and foremost, I don’t want to see anyone hurt, but I also don’t want to bring any bad attention to our facility.
It might close, but I don’t want it to be my fault if it does.
I don’t want to do that to Doug.
All the things I’ve done have been with the residents in mind. There hasn’t been anything like this where the danger was inside the facility.
At least I see a big difference, and it makes my heart pound painfully.
Agnes is right. I need to control my panic, get back down to the other end and stop anyone from walking on the floor.
I’ll figure out how to fix it after I’m sure no one is going to get hurt.
I nod to Agnes and lift my hand before spinning on the floor – it’s slicker than ice and I could have a lot of fun on it – before I start my army crawl back.
“What are you doing?” Doug asks, coming around the corner, his footsteps hesitating for a fraction of a second before he speeds up.
“No!” I shout, unable to form the words that I need as he half-jogs out onto the floor and falls immediately.
I quit trying to army crawl and do an army slide instead, which is much faster, as he’s gingerly trying to sit up.
“Don’t,” I say, thinking that if he has a neck injury he might make it worse.
He ignores my words, giving me a raised brow look before he rolls toward me, stopping when we meet.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my hands going to his neck and head, not that I think I’m going to fix anything, but I have this need to make sure he’s okay, even though I know he’s going to be angry with me. I feel like I deserve it.
“Are you okay?” I ask, unable to keep the fear and concern out of my voice. Agnes got up much faster than he did – but she was going a lot slower and didn’t take the hit to the head he did.
He’s rolled over and is facing me, lying beside me on the floor. His hand comes up to my face and he strokes over it gently. “Are you okay?” he asks, emphasizing the “you” like he wants me to know that I’m important to him.
The pain in my heart doesn’t go away, but it feels sweet now.
I nod against his hand. My words are backed up in my throat.
He leans closer. “I’ve thought about this all day – that I’m your boss and I can’t touch you while we’re working and I have to stay professional and keep my distance, but I think I’m going to resign, because the only way I could figure I could keep from touching you all day was to avoid you.” His eyes have caught on mine and I can’t look away. Not that I want to. “I don’t want to spend my days avoiding you.”
“It’s after five,” I finally manage to say. It’s not the most important thing in my mind, but it’s funny how when a person has trouble getting words out, so many times the unimportant ones are the ones that finally make it into the air.
Or maybe those were the most important ones, since his head lowers and he smiles. “I guess we’re off the clock?” he whispers.
Neither one of us are hourly employees, but I know exactly what he means and I nod, leaning towards him and putting my hand on his waist.
I would never say Cherry Tree is a romantic facility, but I definitely feel romance as Doug kisses me, sweetly and gently, like he is truly concerned that I might be hurt.
I already suspect that I am in love with the man, but his care and concern for me stirs up all the strong feelings I haven’t wanted to feel, but suddenly now feel safe. If he cares about my physical safety and welfare, he will care about my emotional welfare, too, right?
It feels like logic that makes sense, not that I think it in so many words as his lips move over mine.
I’m really not thinking about anything, including the floor or our position on it or that anyone might, and probably will, come by.
The thinking part of my brain totally shuts down when Doug kisses me. This is new. It’s fun, too, although I’m definitely too old to have a man have this effect on me.
He finally lifts his head – not by much – and says, “I have never lain on the floor at my workplace and kissed anyone. That’s not exactly what makes me feel like I love you, but it makes me feel like I should say so.” His eyes soften as they search over my face. “I love you.”
His words shimmer in the air, falling on my ears like soft, summer-night sounds, making me want to cuddle closer and kiss him again.
My hand tightens on his waist and I’m only a little scared when I say, “I love you, too.”
He smiles. Satisfied and confident and he lowers his head again.
“You two seem to a have a real problem with lying around kissing each other. You know, when I was a young man, we married the girl before we did that.” Chubbs voice breaks us apart before our lips touch again. We still share smiles, which relieves me, since I wasn’t sure if having someone see us – here, at Cherry Tree – would upset Doug.
“I’m going to email my resi
gnation tonight before I go home.”
“No!” I say, and these are the words that were more important than the words that I had said earlier. “If anyone resigns, it’s going to be me.”
He doesn’t get to answer me, because I just realize that Chubb might walk out on the floor. The thought sends sheer panic through me. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of my stupidity.
I push myself up. “Don’t come any closer!” I say, and it sounds like I’m yelling. Maybe I am.
Chubb, flanked by all of the other residents, puts a hand up. “Agnes already told us about the floor. She has us all on group text.” He smirks, and the thought hits me that he must have been quite a heartbreaker when he was younger.
“She also told us about you two, and we all figured we’d just come out and see that one for ourselves.”
“I might have taken a picture and put it on Facebook,” Agnes says slyly.
Doug and I exchange horrified glances. That could get us both fired.
I finally notice I hear almost the almost constant chiming of notifications. “People love it!” Agnes exclaims, pulling her phone up and clicking on it. “Listen to this!” she says. “That is so romantic and sweet! My facility is boring and nothing fun every happens, other than the occasional game of bingo and afternoon movie with sugar free jello to munch on rather than popcorn.”
Agnes pauses. “I’m telling her we have room here.”
Her fingers fly over her phone as Chubb says, “Send me a pic and her bio. If Doug here can catch himself a woman, I ought to be able to, too.”
Doug and I both know that we might not be here to see it, since we’re still likely to get fired if the higher-ups find out about this, but our looks have lost some of the horror, which has been replaced by eager hope.
“I don’t want to make you a spectacle,” he whispers. “But I do want to provide plenty of romance and photo opportunities for our residents.” His lips touch mine, so I don’t say that I agree. I just show him.
Chapter 20
Doug
I love the town of Good Grief, but as a man who wants to take a woman on a date, it really doesn’t provide much.
So, Sunday we go to church together and I sit with my arm around her. We cook lunch together. I’ve never enjoyed cooking – just something I had to do – but it’s unbelievably fun when you’re doing it with someone else. Or maybe it’s just Leah.
After lunch we go to the fire hall and hang out at the craft fair.
I’m not the slightest bit interested in crafting, Leah admits she isn’t, either. But it’s enough for me to be with her.
I think she feels the same way about me.
I like it.
We’ve spent a lot of time together just talking about not much of anything and lots of somethings. She told me about her first marriage and I talked about mine.
I guess she must have known that I have kids, because when I tell her about them, she isn’t surprised, or upset.
“I’ll have them later this summer,” I say, wondering where I’ll be, if Cherry Tree will close, and if Leah will find a job somewhere else.
“Maybe we could take them whitewater rafting,” Leah says, and I want to hug her right there. My kids really aren’t the whitewater rafting type of kids. But what kid doesn’t like a little adventure?
I grunt.
Leah notices immediately and turns from the lamps made out of moose antlers, looking at me with questions in her eyes. “What’s the matter?” she asks. “You don’t want me to hang out with you and your kids?”
I drop her hand and put my arm around her, pulling her close, even though I see her mother looking at us across the hall. I smile at Mrs. Harding, because I want her to like me, but I’m not going to let her intimidate me into not being affectionate with Leah.
I’ll never be a psychologist, but I feel like Leah is kind of starved for affection. She has lots of friendships and the ladies at Cherry Tree love her, but I think her husband leaving her left her just as scarred as I am. Sure, maybe she didn’t lose her kids, too, but I understand how you feel like a loser when someone rejects you.
I kiss the top of her head. “It makes me really happy that you want to do things with my kids and me. And I hope we can. I was just thinking that I’m not sure I would have found whitewater rafting fun at that age.”
“So you’d rather do something else?” she asks and I kind of hate that she still seems like she’s not sure if I really want her or not.
“No. I think they’ll enjoy it, even if they’re not real thrilled about it to begin with.”
“Oh. I see,” she says, but I don’t think she does.
“Why don’t we see if Bain has any unbooked days later this summer and see if he’s interested in guiding you and me and my three kids through the beautiful Idaho wilderness?”
“Or we could just float down the Snake,” Leah says, and I think she sounds hopeful.
“You mean, you’re not interested in a wilderness adventure?”
She raises her brows. I try not to laugh.
“Are we really finding out that I’m actually more of an adventurer than you?”
“I tried to tell you it was always the ladies. I just went along with it!” Her voice doesn’t raise, but she does put more emphasis in her words.
I grin. After spending so much time with Miss Agnes, I know Leah is right on about her friends and her. “I’m not sure I believe that,” I say, just to tease her. “After all, you get pretty wild around ropes and honey.”
We share a smile, one of those that lovers everywhere share, gooey and sappy and all that mushy stuff that I didn’t think I was capable of, but here I am at my age, no less, making googly eyes at the woman who exasperates me, frustrates me and pushes me, while somehow managing to make me feel more loved than I ever have in my life before.
“Do I frustrate you?” I ask.
She grunts. “To no end,” she says, with more emphasis than I feel is strictly necessary.
“Exasperate you?”
“Yes!”
“Push you out of your comfort zone?”
“I’m here at a craft show, aren’t I?” she says, and I see the smirk she’s trying to hide. That’s supposed to be my line.
“Do I make you feel loved?” I ask softer, because I really care about her answer, not to mention, it’s not really a manly question.
“You’re here at a craft show, aren’t you?” she answers, stroking a bit of lace on a doll that I think is made out of dried potatoes.
When Leah glances at my face, she must see that I’m not really satisfied with that answer.
“More than anyone ever has,” she says softly, and maybe a little shyly, which makes me feel like it’s the honest to goodness truth.
We are near one of the side door exits and I take her hand, pulling her out. It’s not terribly busy in the hall, but I don’t really think anyone notices that we’ve left. I did see her sister, Claire, across the hall, but she was with Trey and they had two kids and two dogs with them and I don’t think they’re noticing anyone but themselves.
“What?” Leah asks as the door closes behind us and I turn her to face me.
“I wanted to say something to you and I wanted some privacy.”
“Oh?” she looks a little scared. I feel that way. I don’t usually do things spur-of-the-moment like this.
“All my life I’ve heard that love makes a man do crazy things.” I take a breath. Forget butterflies, I feel like I have several bald eagles in my stomach. “I guess I understand a little better now, because I’m about to do something I never thought I would.”
Her brows lift at this and she definitely looks more interested than scared.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen at work or with our jobs and I’m tired of wondering if what you and I have is going to last beyond tomorrow.”
Now her eyes have widened and she’s back to looking scared.
“Marry me, Leah. That way whatever happens we fa
ce it together. We do it together. We work it out together. I don’t want to live my life any other way.”
There.
I said it.
If things don’t work out between us, at least I won’t be kicking myself for the rest of my life for not taking the chance that I had and doing everything I could to keep the woman I love.
“Are you sure? I thought I annoyed you.”
“Just say yes.” Maybe it’s the nerves, but I smile.
She returns it. “Yes,” she says simply.
“We can work everything else out?”
“As long as we’re committed to each other, we’ll figure out a way to make the rest of our lives work.”
That’s exactly how I feel, and exactly what I would have said if she hadn’t beaten me to it. Leah and I are not alike, not even a little. But I think we agree on this – that a commitment is just that – a commitment.
I kiss her then, and we never do make it back in to see the rest of the craft show.
The next morning I admit, I walk into work with a goofy grin on my face. I’m early, as I always am, and Leah’s car isn’t in the parking lot yet.
I’m no closer to figuring out how to save Cherry Tree, and I feel like I’m letting Agnes and Harriet and all the folks in the facility down, since they’ll have to move out of Good Grief when it closes.
I left my work phone on my desk, charging, and I take a second look when I see that there are fifty-two messages.
That seems a little odd.
Maybe there would be more, but I think my voice mailbox is full.
I also notice there are a bunch of emails.
After I listen to the first three messages, I’m smiling.
I don’t listen to more than five before I get up from my desk and walk out into the hall. Miss Agnes is an early riser and I’m pretty sure she’s up. I bet she knows exactly what is going on.
I don’t go far. All ten residents are in the common room right down the hall from my office. They’re all watching for me to appear, apparently, with Miss Agnes standing in the doorway, her eagle eyes watching my every move.
Me and the Helpful Hurricane (Good Grief, Idaho) Page 15