“I guess we’ll see for ourselves at Dee Dee’s dinner party.”
Kit considered switching to hard liquor. She was sure there was a bottle of some dark-brown, poison-tasting stuff in the cabinet leftover from Christmas. She was instantly reminded of the horror of this past holiday season when Co-Co and Brian discovered they were meant to be. She had bought the liquor to help drown the memory of it but hadn’t been able to choke down more than a single sip of a substance that to her unsophisticated palate was no tastier than cough syrup.
Shane came back into the room and went into the fridge for another beer. She pointed to the phone at her ear and rolled her eyes. He offered a crooked grin.
“How’d you meet him anyway? Did you go online like I told you to do? My friend Mitzi met a millionaire on a dating site. They’re very happy. He bought her a convertible, if you can stand it. I think I might try it.”
“No, Ma. I, uh, didn’t meet him online.” She watched for Shane’s reaction, expecting another of his pleasant smirky smiles, but he seemed distracted. He sat at the kitchen table, peeling the label off his beer bottle.
“How did you meet this fireman, then? Were you on fire?”
She slid her gaze over to Shane. They’d have to come up with an ironclad story on how they met, and they needed some kind of cheat sheet or something with regard to personal details. This was going to be work, especially with her bloodhound of a mother.
This was the craziest thing she’d ever prepared to do. She didn’t do crazy things. She was the sensible one, the reliable one, the good daughter, the kinder cousin. In one mad moment she’d shot all those attributes to kingdom come.
“I’ll answer all your questions on Saturday, okay? But for now, I have to go.”
“Okay, okay,” her mother said. “I have so much to do anyway. I taped my soaps and have to catch up before I see your Aunt Dee Dee. She likes to ruin it for me if she’s seen it before I do. And there’s big doings on The Bold and the Beautiful.”
“Mom, Mom….” When her mother went off on a soap opera tangent, it was tough reeling her in. One time she’d held up the line at the deli when she was talking soap opera with the lady slicing her no-salt turkey breast. “We’ll catch up some more tomorrow, okay?”
“But you haven’t told me about the car situation. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, that the debacle with the dead tree happened while I was away.”
She filled her mother in on the tree and the car, leaving out the part where she had no money to rent a new vehicle, hence the new pretend boyfriend.
“And that awful man next door to you actually helped you get it all squared away?”
“Yes, Mother, and Hop’s not awful. He’s all bark and no bite.”
Her mother inhaled deeply through her nose. “I don’t know why you befriended him.”
As much as she loved her mother, Kit had to admit she tended to judge people by their covers. God love her, Mom’s first meeting with Hop had been when Kit had first moved into the cottage. He’d stood outside with the moving van, giving orders to the two guys carrying her things into her new house. He’d just taken it upon himself to supervise the operation, which, in truth, had been pushy. All Kit had known at the time was her neighbor was an older man who went by the name of Hop. When Mom was moving too slowly across the driveway, carrying a punch bowl, a house-warming gift Kit knew she’d never use, the two movers couldn’t get around her with her headboard. Hop had called out a “Move it, sister.” That was all it had taken for Regina Baxter to dislike the guy. “Of all the nerve.”
Mom switched gears. “I can’t wait to meet your man.” The words came out in a singsong that rose in pitch with each word. Ever since Mom noticed that Oprah, her idol, tended to talk like that when she was excited, she had adopted the habit. “I’m so happy for you.” More singsong.
When the call was over, Kit turned to Shane. His green eyes lacked their usual glint, and they appeared darker, almost olive toned. Maybe he was realizing himself what a crazy prospect this was. Maybe his girlfriend wasn’t as understanding about this lunacy as he had hoped. Maybe he was backing out, and then what would she do? She couldn’t give him his money back even if she wanted to. She’d already put in the paperwork for a two-year lease of a sweet little Chevy. There was no saying never mind to car dealers.
She had to find out what Shane was thinking. “Well, it’s official,” she said. “My mother can’t wait to meet you.”
“We’d better get our story straight then, huh?”
“Shane.” His name felt foreign to her lips. “Did you Skype with Dana?”
“Yes, but just for a minute. She was in a hurry. Shocker.”
She didn’t know what he meant by the sarcasm, but a strange twist was going on in her stomach. Was Dana going to tell him to pull the plug on this lie?
“Did you talk with her about our, uh, arrangement?”
He held her gaze. “There wasn’t time.”
An awkward pause hung in the air, and after two glasses of wine, she felt a little fuzzy brained and unable to fill the void with any quips to coax that jovial expression back to Shane’s face. She liked the easy smile he usually proffered. Instead, she just stared at him.
Finally, he locked gazes with her. “I think Dana might be seeing another guy.”
Chapter Eleven
Shane didn’t know why he’d blurted that out. At this point he didn’t even know if it was true. Yeah, Dana had been acting aloof and seemed totally immersed in her dealings in Milan. That didn’t prove she was cheating. He released a lungful of air. But that man’s watch on the nightstand couldn’t be explained away, and it was fishy that each nightstand had a glass of water on it. Dana’s behavior was questionable as well. He wasn’t a suspicious guy—it wasn’t in his nature—but he wasn’t a fool either. Her abruptness of late indicated something was up.
After he foolishly told Kit what he surmised, awkwardness filled the air between them. She had her own issues to worry about, and the last thing she needed was her new tenant to be unloading his girlfriend problem. It was an easy excuse to tell her he needed to tackle some of the stuff up in the loft, make the bed, all that. But that look on her face followed him up the stairs to his quarters.
Each time he looked her way, her Bambi eyes just stared at him, as if waiting for him to elaborate or maybe hoping he wouldn’t. Either way, he couldn’t get into it, and worse, he couldn’t wrap his brain around the feelings that zipped around in his system. He was mad, yes, if it was true. Nobody liked being deceived. But what got him the most was the steady trickle of relief that dripped into his veins like water from a faucet that needed a washer. It surprised him. It bothered him.
Up in the loft he put on the overhead light and got to work. He assembled the bed frame and flipped the box spring in place, then positioned the mattress on top of it. He dug through some boxes, found the sheets, and finished the bed. He grabbed the bag of towels and went into the bathroom to take a shower, wash off this day, drown his thoughts.
****
Kit wrapped the leftover pizza in aluminum foil and put it in the fridge. She did some tidying up of the kitchen while her mind buzzed with thoughts of Shane. Despite her efforts to pull in enough air, her chest felt locked. She hadn’t known the guy for long, had come into this whole disaster with a level of confidence he was completely untouchable.
A vision of his broad chest and muscular arms slithered like a thief into her mind. She’d thought about touching him, even let the fantasy play out in her head because it was safe and that zinfandel was messing with her.
She poured herself a glass of cold water and guzzled. Shane was taken. She was not like Co-Co. Kit didn’t go near somebody else’s man. It never occurred to her going into this that he could become single. She shook her head. Who said he was on the verge of that? He didn’t. All he said was he thought maybe his girlfriend might be seeing someone else. Maybe it was just his loneliness for Dana that made him question her. Maybe it was baseless. And m
aybe it wasn’t.
She put on the teakettle and made herself a cup of chamomile. It was eight o’clock, and the river called her. Everything felt better, easier, against the backdrop of the sounds of the water rushing by her cottage.
She brought her mug of tea out through the back door and walked across the small wooden platform that served as her deck. She eased herself into a wicker chair and leaned back. The evening breeze was welcome on her face and satisfying as it whipped through her hair. She sipped her tea and savored the warmth traveling through her.
But the host of issues came to her like bees that needed to be shooed. A niggle of apprehension crept into her system. She sipped her tea again. The time would come when she’d be through the wedding debacle and the whole sham she and Shane had agreed to pull on her family. Then it would be over. Her loft would be hers again. Shane would be gone, back with Dana, reconciled and happy, or not. It didn’t matter to her. She would be free and unencumbered by budding thoughts she did not want or have the right to feel.
“Hey.” Shane’s voice startled her from her reverie.
She opened her eyes, and in the glow of her outdoor lamplight, his hair was shiny, slick, wet. He’d taken a shower, and the scent of soap wafted to her nostrils. He had changed clothes. He wore pull-on gym pants and a T-shirt with the name of a country band she knew and enjoyed emblazoned across the front.
“Hey.” She put her mug down on the small glass table next to her. “Finished unpacking?”
“Almost. It’s nice out here.” He took a seat in the chair across from her. “I didn’t want to invade your space, Kit, but today’s Thursday, and it occurred to me that if we’re going to pull this off with your family in just two days, I’m going to need some background. You up for that tonight?”
She sat up straight. He was right. They knew virtually nothing about each other. Yet tonight something happened—at least inside her it did. Nothing good would come from having a thought like that. She shook it. There was work to do.
“Okay, how should we start?” She placed her elbows on the chair arms and laced her fingers. She had the thought of asking him if he was okay with regard to his comment about Dana but dismissed it as none of her business. “I guess we should go over the basics.”
He swept his fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you fill me in a little on your childhood, your friends, college, postcollege, and your life since?”
She grabbed her mug from the small coffee table and took a sip of the tea, then cradled the mug between her hands. She told him about her family dynamic, how she and Co-Co grew up in the same town and went all through school together, how Co-Co had been a pain in the butt since day one. She told him a little about college and her love for needlework. That seemed to intrigue him.
“Did you always know you’d want to sew?”
She tilted her head. “Yes, but mostly I love beading. When I was a kid, I used to sew beads in patterns on my jeans and on my denim jacket. I’d make some of my own clothes, too, but the best part is always in the details.”
Shane nodded. “Makes you happy.”
“Yes.”
“That’s how I feel about being a fireman. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Up when I lived in Roxbury, I was miserable working as a foreman in a warehouse. It paid really good money, and that was important. What made me happy, though, was being part of the volunteer fire department there.”
“You like danger?”
He let out a little laugh. “I guess I must. I’m about to play a part at your family’s dinner party on Saturday night. Seems pretty dangerous to me.”
She laughed, too. “Yeah. Wait until you meet my mother. Be scared. Be very, very scared.”
“Tell me how it went down with cousin Co-Co and your ex-boyfriend.”
She groaned. “I’m so sick of thinking or talking about them, but for our purposes let me give you a brief synopsis.” She told him about finding them under the mistletoe, how they professed their true love for each other amid their apologies.
“That had to be awful.”
“It was. But now that some time has gone by, I have to say the worst part of it was having to admit I was so wrong about the guy. I really thought he could have been the one.” She chuckled. “Stupid.”
“It’s not stupid to believe in someone you care about.”
She pulled her mouth sideways. “Yeah, but the signs were there. I just wouldn’t look at them.”
Shane nodded and looked lost in thought for a second. “It can’t be easy to have to face this whole wedding thing,” he finally said.
She shrugged. “It’s not great, but since it all went down, I’ve opened my eyes about Brian. And Co-Co, well, I guess she’ll never change.”
“Opened your eyes in what way? Realizing you two would have been wrong for each other?”
He sounded as if he spoke from experience, but she kept that thought to herself. “Brian and I didn’t laugh. I mean, how could you spend your life with someone that doesn’t make you laugh? And I don’t know…If I ever decide I’m going to make somebody my partner in life, he’s got to get me. Do you know what I mean?”
“I think I do.”
“Full disclosure there, Fireman—and this will be good for you to know in case it comes up in conversation—I’m kind of a goofball nerd. I read old books, and old bookstores are better than a vacation to me, poetry makes me cry but in a good way, I love my houseplants, and yes, I talk to them. I paint my own nails and not pink.” She flashed her navy-blue polish. “I like different. So I have learned one thing, and that’s when the one comes along, he’s got to appreciate that stuff about me.”
“Brian didn’t, huh?”
She thought about the time they were going out to dinner with his work friends. She’d fussed with herself that night, put on mascara, used a wrap instead of a sweater over her sleeveless dress. She remembered how he’d eyed her up and down and how she’d waited for his approval, like Oliver Twist wanting some gruel. Instead, though, he focused his gaze on her hands, her nails painted a cool-as-hell shade of turquoise. “What color would you say that was exactly?” The question had been posed not in fascination but rather disdain.
She shook the memory and looked over to Shane, who studied her. “No,” she said with certainty. “No, he did not.”
He nodded, a solemnity in his eyes.
Her insides squeezed. She cleared her throat and regrouped. “Your turn. Tell me about you.”
He told her about how he’d lost his mom and then his dad and how he’d become guardian to his younger brother, Nick. He told her about quitting college, his pride in his brother now that he was an accountant living up north with his wife. She learned how Hop and Shane’s father had served in Vietnam and had been close through the years.
“Did you know Elinore?” she asked.
A smile broke across Shane’s mouth. “Sure. She was a nice lady.”
“He talks about her a lot. I can tell he really loved her.”
“Talk about making each other laugh. They were quite the couple. She was scrappy. He liked that about her. Hop would dole out his best bull crap, and she’d call him on it every time. She had his number. I’ll tell you that.” Shane shook his head. “But yeah, they were something together.”
“Hey, next time you’re over there visiting Hop, look at the framed picture that’s hanging up in the kitchen hallway of him in his yellow kayak. You’ll see a look in his eye that sums it all up. That couple got each other.”
“I’ll do that.”
“He must have been devastated when she died.”
He held her gaze. “It was tough on him. She’s been gone a long time, and as far as I know, Hop’s never gotten involved with another woman.”
“I’d guess it’s because some things are so good there’s no replacement.” Kit pulled in a breath and exhaled. “Or finding another person that gets you in your lifetime just might be too much to ask.”
They were quiet. No words ca
me to her. What could that possibly be like—to have a relationship so wonderful that any other possibility paled?
She needed to fill the space. The nearness of him was too apparent, the topic too intimate. She pointed to his T-shirt. “You like country music.”
He brightened. “I do. You?”
Their conversation continued into the night, covering topics that would become handy when they were at her aunt’s dinner party on Saturday night. They shared favorites—favorite bands, favorite songs, and favorite ice cream—rocky road for him, almost any flavor for her, but there was nothing like a good vanilla.
“All the flavors in the world and you like vanilla the best?”
“Yes. But good vanilla. You know, the kind where you can see the little specs of vanilla bean in it.”
“How do you know they’re not bugs?”
She laughed. “I think I’d know a bug when I saw one in my ice cream. Oh, and sprinkles. Have to have sprinkles.”
“Chocolate or rainbow?”
“That’s a ridiculous question. Of course, rainbow.”
They covered sports and movies, and she was amused at his surprise when she revealed her penchant for scary films.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl who likes scary movies. I mean, do you watch them through your fingers while you’re covering your eyes with your hands?”
“No. I don’t like blood-and-guts movies, though. I’m old school. The Exorcist, Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”
“Black-and-white version or the remake?”
“Black-and-white.”
He seemed to like that; the smile was back on his face. His eyes twinkled in the lamplight. “So you don’t scare easy?”
She offered him a smile. “I’ll let you know after Saturday night.”
It was odd telling a virtual stranger about her life, but it was exhilarating, too. She liked the way Shane engaged, held his attention rapt. It felt good, as if a seed of friendship had been planted tonight.
Later in her room, she lay tucked under her hand-sewn summer quilt, the windows open and the breeze blowing through the screens and making the curtains dance. Her mind danced, too, with the new things she’d learned about Shane.
Mr. Maybe Page 7