“What happened to that good guy who killed all the raccoons?” Grandpa’s memory of events surrounding the raccoon infestation in the apartment above Flour Sax Quilt Shop wasn’t perfect, but Taylor didn’t correct him. It wouldn’t hurt Clay to think of her as hanging out with a guy that could take down a whole family of beasts.
“He’s around still,” Taylor said.
“Did he kill them with his bare hands?” Clay took the last piece of pizza and consumed it in two quick bites.
Grandpa still had the one on his plate. Taylor knew that Ellery and Grandpa had already had their soup and sandwiches, but Clay didn’t.
“Yup,” Grandpa Ernie said.
Taylor gave her grandpa a long, considering look. Was this a symptom of his slowly decaying memory or was he trolling Clay because Clay was acting like a jerk? She couldn’t tell.
“I bet that Grandma Quinn could do it. She’s a tough broad.”
“Respect, young man, or get out of my house.” Grandpa Ernie’s face went red.
“Seriously, cool it, Clay. This is my family you’re talking about.”
“Sure, well, it explains you doesn’t it?”
With a slow grind of chair legs on floor, Grandpa Ernie stood. “That is it.” His words came out as slowly as the chair had moved. “You will leave this house immediately and not return.”
Clay had the sense to blanche, but he didn’t move. “Come on now, you know I’m just joking.” He elbowed Taylor in the ribs.
“Do I?”
“You’ve met your grandma.”
“Get out.” Taylor too, stood and now only Clay was sitting.
Grandpa had shuffled into the front room, apparently heading for the door, to kick Clay out.
“She took me to that little prison museum and gave me a lecture on how to treat women. In a prison! You’ve got to know that makes her one bad…” He looked from Taylor to Grandpa Ernie, “Boss. It makes her one bad boss. An Iron Lady. It was a boss move.”
“It didn’t seem to make an impression on you though, did it?”
“Tay.” He tipped his chair back on two legs. “We used to laugh about stuff like this together.”
“I don’t remember laughing when you made fun of my family. In fact, I don’t remember you making fun of them. And, to top it off, I don’t remember you coming down this way to meet them even.” She smoothed the front of her white cotton button down shirt, her anxiety cooling at the sensation of the crisp professional fabric under her fingertips. Even after a long day’s work. She stood up a little straighter.
“I did! I came for the Fourth of July.”
“Five years ago.”
“And? I still came.”
“Go home, Clay. We’re not getting back together.”
Grandpa Ernie had picked up her phone and was staring at it with concentration. Taylor wondered if he was going to call 911, but after a moment, he was talking into it like smart phones were a part of his day to day life. “I recall you said we could call you when we had a pest problem…”
This time Taylor blanched. Was Grandpa calling Hudson to get rid of Clay? Some small part of her that was still a fourteen-year-old girl thrilled at the idea, but the majority of her was mortified.
“Let me take you out for ice cream and tell you the whole prison lecture story.” Clay didn’t seem to hear what Grandpa Ernie was muttering in the other room. “It’s pretty funny.”
“I can’t leave.” Taylor crossed her arms. “I don’t leave Grandpa home alone at night. He might not like the idea of needing a caregiver, but he needs one.”
“Then let me run down to the market and buy some ice-cream.”
“It closes at eight.” Taylor hoped he wouldn’t notice he still had time to get there.
“Awesome.” He leapt to his feet, his happy grin back in place. “I’ll be right back.”
Taylor was too distracted by what she was hearing from Grandpa Ernie to give Clay’s words the thought they deserved. He was leaving and that was enough for the moment.
She locked the kitchen door behind Clay and then joined her Grandpa in time to hear him say. “Good. We’ll be here.” He set the phone down.
“Didn’t know you knew how to use one of those.” Taylor sunk into the couch, glad to get off her feet and glad for the quiet of this room.
“Ellery taught me yesterday. She’s a smart cookie, but she doesn’t do much cleaning. I hope you don’t pay her to clean.”
“She’s earning her keep.”
“Babysitting.” He huffed into his bushy mustache.
“You’re hardly a baby.” Taylor crossed her legs and yawned. “Did you just call Hudson?”
“Yup.” He backed into his recliner slowly, a smile sneaking onto his face as he got comfortable.
“To kick Clay out?”
“I’m not the only one who needs someone to take care of me.” He yanked on the bar that reclined his chair and sighed. “But I guess you got rid of him on your own.”
“He claims he’s coming back with ice cream.”
“Good. We can have ice cream and then Hudson can kick him out.”
Grandpa Ernie was so clear-headed tonight, and in such an entertaining mood. His pleased contented look might have been from knowing he could use a smart phone, or it might have been the thrill of being the man of the house.
Taylor thought for the hundredth time that Grandma Quinny was overreacting. And of course, Clay wasn’t all together wrong. She could be an overwhelming woman.
“So that was the man you’ve been living with all these years?”
“Yup,” Taylor echoed his own words.
“Bet you’re glad you didn’t marry him.”
Her eyes were closed and head resting on the back of the couch. Was she? If they had been married, he’d have had to come here with her. She’d still have the Clay she had loved back then instead of this jerk-Clay she currently hated.
“You shouldn’t have to think about it that long.”
“Oh, marriage changes things,” Taylor yawned. “If we had married years ago, we wouldn’t be the people we are now. How would I know if I should have or shouldn’t have? All I know is we didn’t and so this is what it is.”
“True.” He nodded. “You should get married. You’re not so young anymore.”
“Nope. I’m not.” By the time her mom had turned twenty-nine, Taylor had been nine, and her dad was two years away from dying. A whole lifetime lived in the years Taylor had just been doing her thing. And yet, she wasn’t sorry that she didn’t have a nine-year-old and she certainly wasn’t sorry that she didn’t have young widowhood to look forward to any time soon.
The soft sound of snoring was all Taylor got for a reply. It had been a long day for Grandpa.
She had almost joined him in a little evening snooze when a gentle and familiar knock on the door roused her. For being a big manly construction guy, Hudson didn’t seem to feel obliged to draw notice to himself.
She let him in with a sleepy smile.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “It’s been a while.”
“It has. I’ve been meaning to call. Come in.”
He ambled in and dropped onto the couch. “Looks like you took care of your pest problem.” His grin was cheekier than Clay’s ever was. Less self-deprecating too.
“I’m not too shabby when it’s only one at a time.”
“I’d make a joke about hordes of men surrounding you, but it’s been a long day.”
“I hear you. Can I get you something? A beer? Water?”
“Got a Coke or something?”
“Sure.” Taylor went to the kitchen to scrounge a cold drink. She found a lone can of Pepsi at the back of the fridge. She turned to get herself a glass of water and spotted a face in the window of the kitchen door. That grin, definitely not as cheeky, but almost as cute.
Clay knew Taylor saw him but knocked anyway. Nice and loud.
“Want me to get it?” Hudson called from the other room.
Taylor exhaled loudly. “No, we can ignore him.”
“Who is him?”
She returned to Hudson without her water. “Him is Clay Seldon the man I left behind in Portland.”
“Ah yes. Good old Clay. The guy that didn’t seem to care one bit about your family.”
“I’d say he still doesn’t seem to care.”
The front doorbell rang.
“I wonder what he thinks of my truck in the driveway.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
Hudson got up with an oof that sounded older than his twenty-five years and answered the door. “Yes?” He filled the doorway, his head with its thick dark hair almost touched the door frame, and his broad shoulders seemed to fill the width. He wore a dusty plaid flannel and jeans that were muddy from a day at some construction site.
“You must be the guy that killed a bear when he was only three.” Clay stood at least three inches below Hudson and was narrow in the shoulders. The decided slump of a computer guy was another difference between the two, as was the rumpled T-shirt he had probably slept in and the very clean blue jeans that had cost an absurd amount of money. “Hope you like rocky road.” He held up the box of ice-cream.
“Sure, thanks.” Hudson pulled out his wallet, not moving from the doorway. “What do we owe you?” He handed Clay a five. “That about covers it, right?”
Clay laughed and accepted the money. He might be a slight man, but he was bold and walked in, pushing past Hudson with the strength of his big personality.
“Hey, Buddy.” Hudson put a hand on Clay’s shoulder. “Why don’t you and I step outside for a minute?”
Clay stiffened. “Taylor’s waiting for her ice-cream.”
Taylor was about ready to go to bed and let these two duke it out for themselves. Technically she hadn’t invited either of them there.
Hudson gripped Clay’s shoulder hard and turned him toward the door. “Outside.”
Clay twisted away, popping out of Hudson’s hand.
Hudson looked shocked for a moment, then laughed. He grabbed the ice cream in a swift motion and tossed it to Taylor.
Taylor hadn’t expected to catch it, but she did. “Whatever you do, don’t wake up Grandpa Ernie,” she muttered as she went to the kitchen. She almost started dishing the dessert but tossed it in the freezer instead.
“Everyone, outside.” Taylor pushed past both of them and stood on the porch with her hands on her hips. They both followed.
“Hudson, it was very nice of you to come over just because Grandpa Ernie called you. Clay, you are being an ass. You know that, right?”
He laughed. “Come on, you love it. You like a confident guy who comes for what he wants.”
“You’re disgusting.” Hudson curled his lip.
“Let me guess, you’re letting her take her time.”
The derision in the words ‘take her time’ was too much, Taylor was about to sock him right in the nose, but she wasn’t fast enough.
Hudson’s fist cracked Clay’s face so hard it knocked him down the porch steps.
“Damn, I was right.” Clay held his hand to his face as blood gushed down, but his eyes, though filled with tears, weren’t cowed. “You’re ledding her lead. Which is cude.” His words were that of a man with a freshly broken nose. “But that’s nod the way do win Daylor. The day she led me move indo her place, I made my move, didn’t I?”
“Oh God, Clay, you make me sick. What is wrong with you?” For half a minute Taylor had considered getting him a towel or maybe ice for his nose, but she couldn’t now.
Blood was still pouring down his face. He wobbled but grabbed for the rail. “I’m joking, Day,” he said.
“Head back to wherever you’re staying and clean yourself up, will you?” Taylor pleaded. The sight of him bleeding there worried her and she didn’t want to worry about him.
“Sure, sure, but I’ll be back domorrow. You love me sdill, I know id.” He turned toward his car and fell over. Passed out. Loss of blood. Taylor stood, jaw dropped.
“Crap.” Hudson stared too.
Taylor wondered if he was thinking what she was thinking—that he’d probably spend the night in jail over this one.
“Why don’t you head out and I’ll take care of him?” Taylor gave him a shove toward his truck.
But Hudson was already picking Clay up and carrying him in. “Running won’t stop him from pressing charges if that’s what he wants to do. Can you get some wet rags and ice?”
“Sure.” Taylor followed Hudson and Clay inside. He lay Clay on the floor.
Grandpa Ernie was awake now. “That’s a turn up isn’t it?” He peered from his seat at the mess of Clay.
Hudson was already calling 911.
While he did, Taylor wiped Clay’s face gently with a wet rag, and then pressed a dry towel under his nose. He was losing a lot of blood, but Taylor had a feeling he had passed out from a concussion. Not that she was a nurse.
“Don’t you think Hudson should head out?” Taylor asked Grandpa.
“He’d never.” Grandpa Ernie looked with approval at the tall man on the phone.
Hudson’s cheeks were pink, and his face was drawn. Embarrassment, Taylor guessed.
But Grandpa Ernie wasn’t embarrassed. He had gotten exactly what he had ordered.
Chapter Seven
Clay roused himself before the ambulance arrived. “Dang.” He attempted to sit up.
“Maybe don’t do that.” Taylor pressed his shoulder gently.
He did anyway and leaned forward. “Now we know who’d win in a fight.”
Hudson was seated on an uncomfortable straight-backed wooden chair by the front door. Her mom used to call it “The Boyfriend Chair.” He looked exactly as uncomfortable as her mom liked to say it would make any potential boyfriends.
Hudson leaned forward, arms on his knees. “How’s the head?”
“Busted,” Clay said.
“I called the ambulance. Want to make sure I didn’t break anything important.” Hudson’s words were quiet, deep and tinged with guilt.
Clay chuckled. “You pack a punch.”
“You were way out of line.”
“Yeah. I was.” Blood started trickling out his nose again. He grabbed one of the towels that lay beside him and held it to his face. “Between you and that Grandma Quinn, I guess I know where I stand.”
“The only opinion you need is mine.” Taylor crossed her arms. “How hard is that to understand? Grandma Quinny might bully you. Hudson might beat you. What does any of that matter? I’m the one who says if you stay or go.”
Clay moped at her with what might have been big puppy eyes, if one hadn’t been almost swollen shut, the punch to the nose having been pretty effective. “And?”
“You’re going to make me say it again?” She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “You go.”
He attempted a wobbly stand. “Fine.”
The sirens from the ambulance halted his retreat.
The paramedics, Maria and Serge, gave him a thorough exam and then asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital.
“Nope.”
“Is it okay if he stays here?” Maria asked Hudson.
Taylor seethed. Maria, who she’d known for at least twelve years, should have been asking her.
“Our concern is for a concussion. It would be nice if someone was around to check in on him now and again. That was one bad blow he got in your…sparring.” Maria rolled her eyes. She hadn’t bought the story Clay sold her.
“Yeah, he can stay with me.” Hudson crossed his arms.
“All right, we check off on it then. But take care boys, fights aren’t games.” Maria and Serge left, shaking the dust off their sandals metaphorically.
“You’re not fit to drive,” Hudson said. “Grab your stuff and I’ll take you to my place.”
“Hold on,” Clay interjected. “The nice lady said I should sleep here.”
Taylor checked her watch. It was only nine. “Whateve
r. Stay here then. Belle’s bed has clean sheets. Grandpa Ernie, are you good?”
He had been about to fall asleep again, so Taylor gave his shoulder a little shake. “Can I help you to your room?”
“Only if you kids quiet down.”
She walked with him across the little living room to his bedroom while Hudson paced in front of the door.
When she returned, Hudson addressed her again. “Taylor…” He spoke slowly, his deep, resonant voice filled the room, though he wasn’t being loud.
“It’s fine. Clay won’t die in the night. You can stay too. I give up. Everyone can stay the night.”
“Don’t give up.” Hudson’s eyes were proper puppy dog eyes. Emotional, expressive, winning.
She smiled at him softly. “That’s not what I meant. This night has gotten out of hand. I’m getting the ice cream.”
Hudson followed her into the kitchen. “Do you really want me to stay with you tonight too?”
She thought about it. She liked that he asked. She liked it a lot. He didn’t presume he could stay. He didn’t hint that he’d stay in her room. They hadn’t slept together, and he wasn’t going to press her about it.
And yet…part of her missed the kind of passionate pursuit that Clay brought to the game. His persistence could not overcome the injury of his abandoning her, but it was a stark contrast to Hudson.
Then again, he had been passionate enough to damage Clay’s face.
She shrugged. “Is ‘I don’t know’ a good enough answer?”
“No.” There was laugh in Hudson’s eyes despite his grim face.
Taylor passed him a bowl of ice cream. “It’s early still. Go find something on TV.”
He took the bowl and sat himself right next to Clay on the sofa. Clay shifted away. His swollen, broken face held a pouty little frown.
Taylor brought the other two bowls out and took her spot in Grandpa’s chair. What was she supposed to do with these two men?
Eventually Clay fell asleep on the couch which was a huge relief for Taylor. Not so much a relief for Hudson, who happened to be the shoulder Clay slumped down on when sleep came. “I guess I’m stuck here then.”
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