The Good Guy on my Porch (Catalpa Creek #3)

by Katharine Sadler

  Norma Jane paled and stood. “Ladies, it’s clear Dilly doesn’t want us here. We should go.”

  The others grumbled, but they were a united front and wouldn’t put Norma Jane in an awkward position. They stood and followed her out. Mary stopped at the door and poked me right in the solar plexus. “This isn’t over, Daffodil Thompkins.”

  I bit back a laugh. The situation was horrible and wrong, but also so ridiculous it was funny. I forced a frown and nodded. “I understand.”

  She shook her head and puffed air between her lips, like she knew I was laughing at her. “So hardheaded,” she muttered.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Oscar

  I’d screwed up. It was the thought that played on repeat all day as I greeted customers and taught a meditation class. I’d kissed Dilly and probably ruined our friendship. I sat on the porch, bracing myself for her to get home, to avoid me. She’d have every right to want to stay away from me. I’d crossed a line and, though I could never regret that amazing kiss or the way she’d felt like everything I’d ever wanted in my arms, I didn’t want to lose her friendship.

  I let Buddy out and took him for a walk around the block. It was after seven. Dilly usually got out of work by six, but she often went to dinner with friends and sometimes out for drinks. If she was avoiding me, I wouldn’t see her at all. I needed to see her. Needed to know she was all right.

  I was back on the porch, reading a book about Vinyasa yoga, Buddy next to me, when I heard her heels tapping on the walk. Not high heels, she didn’t dress up for work, but sandals with chunky heels. I looked up and my eyes met hers and heat streaked through me. One look at her and it was like I was back in that moment after our kiss, wanting her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. She smiled, and it was a warm open smile, even if her cheeks were pink.

  “Hey, Oscar.” She petted Buddy, giving him hugs and hellos, and then sat next to me. She usually sat on the other side of Buddy, putting a furry barrier between us, but this time she sat right next to me, not quite touching, but close.

  “How was your day?”

  She turned a bit, so she was looking at me head on. “I was ambushed, first thing, in the morning, by a group of nosy old ladies who’d heard about our kiss at the club and wanted me to dump my boyfriend and start dating you.”

  “They’d already heard about it? How?”

  She held up a finger. “You know what? I told that story wrong. I was woken up this morning by a phone call from Carrie who’d heard about our kiss and wanted me to dump my boyfriend and start dating you, because I only ever date losers and you are clearly amazing.”

  “Clearly,” I said, trying to keep it light, even though my heart was pounding, and my fingers were itching to grab her and kiss her again. “How did they hear about it?”

  “There are no secrets in Catalpa Creek.” She spoke like she was annoyed, but there was something else her expression. Was that worry?

  “And the general consensus is in my favor?”

  She waved a hand. “Everyone loves you, Oscar. You can do no wrong. And they’ve decided you and I should be together, so prepare yourself for some awkward meddling.”

  “Meddling? Like stranding us in a cabin to force us to admit our feelings like Nora did to Aubrey and Noah.”

  “Yep. Or figuring out what we want most in the world and making sure the only way for us to get it will be to pretend to be engaged to one another like they did to Carrie and Cody.”

  “So basically,” I said. “Forcing us to spend more time together? I think I could handle that.” I wanted to ask if she’d taken their words to heart, if she was considering breaking up with Jerome, if maybe the kiss had meant as much to her as it had to me, but I didn’t think pushing her to break up with Jerome would do anything but push her farther away.

  She smiled over at me. “We’d probably have fun. I always have fun with I’m with you, even if you’re forcing me to hike up a dusty trail.”

  My chest pinched and it hurt to smile, because I wanted so much more from her. “I know we’d have fun.”

  She grinned and linked her arm through mine, resting her head on my shoulder as we chatted about random stuff and waited for the sun to set. I wanted to wrap my arm around her waist and rest my hand on her hip, but I knew, if I did that, I’d want to pull her closer and then my hand would slip under her shirt to caress her warm, smooth skin.

  So, I sat there her arm touching mine, her head on my shoulder our only points of contact, and I tried to convince myself that it was enough, that friendship was enough. It was getting harder and harder to believe it.

  After the sun had set, in a slow dip lacking bright colors, she lifted her head, freed her arm, and stood. “I’m exhausted. I should get to bed.”

  Panic rushed through me at the thought of her walking away. I wanted more time with her, because if I was going to convince her to love me, I was going to need all the time I could get. And I suddenly knew that I had to convince her to love me, I had to fight for her, because I didn’t believe she could have kissed me like she did if she felt nothing. “You don’t have to work tomorrow, do you?”

  “No,” she said, getting that adorable little wrinkle between her brows she got whenever she was confused. Okay, I couldn’t see it, but I knew her well enough to be able to picture it.

  “Do you have plans tomorrow? Any reason to get up early?”

  “No.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “I want to show you something.”

  “Okay,” she said, her stance relaxing. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

  “It’s on top of the mountain.”

  “What?” she screeched. “You want to take me hiking in the middle of the night?”

  “There’s a strong half-moon and it’s a short hike. I promise the destination will be worth the effort.”

  “Okay.” She put her trust in me so easily I wanted to hug her. “What do I need to bring?”

  “A water bottle, a few snacks, a few blankets. Whatever you can fit in that pack I lent you.”

  “Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you back out here.”

  She took Buddy in with her and I resisted the urge to do a few fist pumps. I hadn’t expected her to agree to this night hike, and I’d at least expected her to ask more questions. I quickly packed a bag and hurried back out to the porch, but Dilly wasn’t there. Her voice floated out the window she’d opened, probably to let in the cool spring air for Buddy.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Everything is fine. I’m exhausted and I’m going straight to bed…Yes, I swear. You’ve got nothing to worry about…I didn’t cook tonight, so I never turned the stove on…I didn’t get food poisoning, Momma. I love you, but I’ve really got to go.”

  Just when I was ready to hate her boyfriend even more than I already did, I heard enough to know she was talking to her mother. And her mother sounded like a worrier of the first class.

  Dilly’s door opened, and she stepped out. “Oscar,” she said, starting a bit when the light she’d left on inside illuminated me. “I’m sorry I took so long. I just called Jerome real quick to say good night.”

  She’d lied to me. Why not just tell me she was talking to her mother? I was intrigued more than hurt that she’d lied. Even so, I couldn’t resist pushing. “How is Jerome?”

  “Um, busy, you know. He’s got to get ready for his speech thing on Sunday.”

  “Sermon,” I said as I opened the passenger door of my car and she slid in.

  “Oh, right. That’s what I meant, sermon.”

  I closed her door, feeling oddly happy that she didn’t seem to have any real idea of what Jerome’s job entailed. Before I made it around the car though, my mood was punctured by the thought that she didn’t know because they didn’t do much talking. The pictures that idea put in my head may have made me a little grumpy, and I might have slammed my door harder than necessary.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Everything’s great. You ready?
”

  “Nope.”

  I drove the short distance to the mountain and managed to push all images of Dilly and the face-less Jerome naked and together out of my mind, before I parked. “Isn’t this where we parked for the waterfall hike?” she asked. “Are we going there again?”

  “I’ve got a better view in mind this time.”

  Instead of going toward the dirt trail we’d taken up to the waterfall, I led her to a paved trail with hardly any incline. “Wow, this is definitely more my speed,” she said. She may have claimed to be exhausted, but her voice was light and happy.

  When the path opened up before us so that we could see the large dome-shaped building, she gasped in surprise. “What is this?”

  “It’s an observatory,” I said. “It’s owned by the university.”

  “I didn’t even know this was here. How did I not know this was here?” I couldn’t make out her expression because the dim light from the moon was blocked by the trees, but her voice was nothing but excited.

  “Tonight, they’re looking at Jupiter and Saturn.”

  “Why did you have me bring blankets if we’re going to be in there?”

  “A short walk from the observatory, there’s a great spot to view the stars, but it can be chilly. I wanted you to be prepared in case you decide you want to check it out.”

  She hurried past me to the observatory. “This is so cool. I’ve never been to one of these before.”

  I followed her. It was good to be back on solid ground with her. Maybe I could be okay with her never wanting more than friendship, because this moment, her happiness, it was everything.

  Inside, there were a few other people, but not a big crowd. A grad student talked to us about what we were going to see and then we got to take turns looking through the telescope at the planets. I’d been to the observatory a few times, but it never got old.

  Once we were back outside, Dilly was bouncing with excitement. “I always thought astronomy was boring, but that was so cool. I felt like I could reach out and touch those planets.” She stilled and faced me. Dim light from the observatory lit her face. “Thank you, Oscar. That has to be one of the coolest dates I’ve ever had.”

  “Date?” I asked, hope flooding me.

  She looked down at her feet, but quickly back up again, her smile fierce. “The best kind of date, a friends’ date.”

  A date was a date in my book, but I pushed the hope back down where it belonged and focused on the moment, on her happiness. “You want to star watch for a bit?”

  “Sure. You can teach me all the constellations.”

  “I tell you I’ve been to the observatory a few times and you figure I’m an expert on constellations?”

  She grinned. “I’m pretty sure you’re an expert on everything outdoorsy and, if you aren’t, you could just make shit up and I’d be impressed.”

  “It just so happens,” I said. “Making shit up is my specialty.”

  I led her away from the observatory and up a narrow trail. Under the trees, the trail was pitch dark, so I pulled out a flashlight to light our way. She grabbed my free hand and laced her fingers through mine. It felt beyond good to have her small hand in mine, but I reminded myself we were just friends. It was my new mantra.

  When we reached the look-out point, a flat, open field, we walked to the middle of it and I set the flashlight down to light our spot.

  “I figured our star-gazing spot would be on the side of the mountain,” she said.

  “We’d get too much light from Catalpa Creek on the side of the mountain. Here, there’s less ambient light to interfere with the view.”

  I laid out a blanket and Dilly got out her own blanket. She didn’t spread it out next to mine, but got comfy on my blanket, right next to me, her own blanket in her lap. Dilly shivered and wrapped the blanket around herself. She tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. “Oh, my god,” she said. “That is amazing. I’ve never…” She drifted off, just looking at the stars.

  “It’s better if you lay back.” I lay down to demonstrate. She followed suit, but she laid her head on my shoulder and pulled her blanket over her.

  “Okay if I steal some of your body heat? It’s chillier out here than I expected.”

  I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Take as much as you need.” I was on fire, the touch of her body along mine lighting me up and making me want. My heart was beating so hard, I was sure she could feel it against her cheek.

  I lay there in the dark for a few moments, just breathing in her warm scent and enjoying the feel of her in my arms. I should have moved away, should have reminded myself she was dating someone else and would never be in my arms like this again. It would be too easy to get used to it, to miss her when she was gone, to want to kiss her again in a half-drunken moment. But I couldn’t move away, couldn’t give up this simple pleasure.

  “Tell me about the constellations,” she said.

  I searched the sky, trying to come up with a good one. Finally, I pointed out the big dipper. “See that one? The one that looks like a square with a handle?”

  “The big dipper?”

  “No, that’s the upside-down ball cap. Long before there was the sideways cap or the backwards cap, there was the upside-down cap. It was all the rage in the mid-1200s. But people had—”

  She laughed. “Did they even have ball caps in the twelve hundreds?”

  “They might not have looked like what we wear today, but they definitely had hats. They had to—”

  “And when you say they wore them upside down, you mean literally? Like the part that was supposed to cover the top of their head flipped over? Why would they do that? Could they even keep it from just rolling off their head?”

  I cleared my throat, pretending annoyance. “I’m the expert here, don’t question me. They had to walk perfectly erect to keep the hat balanced on top of their heads and one day, a wolf-lion attacked a village of people trying to keep their caps on their heads and, because they couldn’t look down, no one was able to see the approaching blood-thirsty predator and they were all slaughtered. The fashion was declared obsolete and the people threw their ball caps into the sky, where one of them formed that constellation.”

  “A wolf-lion?”

  “Really? I tell you a heartbreaking tale of an entire village brutally slaughtered and that’s what you come away with?”

  “It’s just so ridiculous,” she said. “What would a wolf-lion even look like? How was it created?”

  “It’s the most ferocious predator ever known to man. With the stealth and cunning of a…Well, of both the wolf and the lion, the ferocious teeth and strength of the lion, and the speed of the…It’s just really cool, okay? And that’s how the story goes.”

  “Okay,” she said. “That’s pretty good, but I bet you’ve never heard the story of that one.” I could just make out her hand, pointing east to a big cluster of bright stars.

  “Oh, you mean the cockroach reunion? I know all about it.”

  She laughed. “That’s not the cockroach reunion constellation, that’s the princess dress constellation. See how it’s shaped like a dress covered with sparkles?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Well, that’s what it is. Once upon a time, little girls everywhere were indoctrinated with the idea that their role models should be pretty princesses who sat around looking pretty and waiting to be rescued by dashing men who had magical lips and could save them from death with a kiss. The little girls wore sparkly dresses and watched movies about these princesses and dreamed of their own princes coming to rescue them. Except, they grew up and they discovered there were no princes and men didn’t have magical lips. In fact, most men had no interest in rescuing them or in fairy tales. The men didn’t even care what the girls wanted, but the men loved the idea of the girls sitting around looking pretty and not complaining if the men wanted to play prince to several women at the same time. The little girls who’d grown up decided they never wanted their daught
ers to be given such flimsy role models. Based on what their daughters would face in the real world, their role models should be warriors, tough women who bowed to no one, so they took all the silly princess dresses and flung them into the sky and there they stay, to remind all the people that cartoon princesses and fairy tales belong among the stars and not on earth.”

  The story reminded me of that prick who had hurt her with his open relationship. “Definitely a better constellation than the upside-down baseball cap. But I bet you’ve never heard about that constellation.” I pointed to the left. I didn’t even have a group of stars in mind, just a story. “The good guy.”

  “Figures,” she said. “The one good guy in the universe is made of stars.”

  I ignored her. “Once, many millennia ago, before people were even really people, but were still more gorilla than Homo sapiens, men used their strength and power to claim their women. The weak men stood little chance against their over-muscled Neanderthal brethren, but the ladies were getting tired of being dragged around by their hair. One day, a woman turned down a Neanderthal and decided to give a different kind of guy a chance. She’d played with him when they were children and had always liked him. He wasn’t a fan of the brutal way the other Neanderthals fought for the women and had consigned himself to a life of celibacy. He had a vision of a different kind of relationship, one where the man and woman respected each other as equals. A relationship based on love and not brute force. The woman spent some time with him and they fell in love.”

  “I think that’s my favorite constellation.”

  “I haven’t told you how he ended up as a star picture.”

  “Oh,” she said, glumly. “This isn’t going to have a happy ending, is it?”

  I’d imagined a funny, gory ending to my story, because that’s how constellation stories worked, but I hated the sadness in her voice. “The other Neanderthals insisted the good guy had to fight to keep the woman, but, though he was big and strong, he was a peaceful dude and had no wish to fight. He and the woman ran off to a beautiful, warm land far, far away and they built themselves the happiest of all lives. They had children and grew old together. And, when the man died, the woman threw his ashes to the sky and they stuck there, outlining his form in stars to remind all men of the value of being a good guy.”