Divorced, Desperate And Dating

by Christie Craig

  “Your hair smells good.” His hand pressed against the small of her back; his head tilted downward until his breath, a little muggier than the night air, brushed across her temple.

  He was going to try to kiss her. She couldn’t deal with this now. She had bigger fish to gut—like if she was or wasn’t going to go to Mexico and fake orgasms. Like why she’d spent all day fuming over yesterday’s run-in with Jason Dodd instead of working on her new book. Add the two phone hangups she’d gotten today and trying to figure out if they had anything to do with the dead rat, and a kiss from Benny could be her breaking point. And when she broke, she was as bad as her mother. Tears and snot, snot and tears. It wasn’t pretty.

  Neither was the idea that someone really wanted to scare her, someone who had read her unpublished manuscript.

  Like, someone in her critique group.

  Hadn’t it even been Benny’s idea to use the rat? His hip brushed up against hers. Suspicion pricked her stomach.

  Then evaporated.

  The man spent his time imagining man-eating plants. Weird, yes, but he wasn’t a rat-sending lunatic. Benny coached his son’s Little League team and sold Bibles part-time to supplement his income.

  He looked at her again, and his tongue brushed his bottom lip, reminding her of his alien before it devoured the baby donkey. Not a lunatic, but lonely enough to try to kiss her.

  Two words shot through her head: dead dog.

  She put on her brakes.

  “Gross.” She made a show of putting a finger in her mouth.

  “What?” Benny asked.

  “Nothing, I just found a piece of steak that has been stuck between my teeth for a week. Tastes like dead dog. I’m gonna have to floss better.” Sue waved a hand in front of her face.

  He backed away. “My car’s over here. See you…later.”

  Sue bit back a smile. She hadn’t used the dead dog trick in years. “Bye.” Retrieving her keys from her bag, she cut into the restaurant’s rear parking lot.

  The night suddenly grew blacker, too quiet. With her heart drumming the music to the Jaws movies, she hurried like a woman wearing white in search of a tampon. She did have to hurry. Not a tampon hurry, but she had grandparents to see, and then she had to go home and pack or call Paul and cancel Mexico.

  It was time to cook or get out of the kitchen. She’d sucked at cooking. But dang it, she was hungry for a little male companionship. Benny didn’t count. Obviously, neither did Paul.

  The click of her sandals on the pavement seemed to be soaked up by the darkness—a swarthiness cloaked by Texas humidity. The hair on the back of her neck began to rise at the same time her cell phone rang. Jerking it out of her purse, she hit the on button.

  “Hello.”

  Nothing. Not a word. Then a click. She squinted to see the number of the caller. Restricted.

  She took another step. Just like that, she remembered another scene in her book where a victim had been kidnapped in a parking lot. She tasted fear on her tongue.

  Sue arrived at her car, her skin tight with goose bumps. “I’m being silly,” she muttered…but then she heard it.

  Footsteps.

  Fumbling with her keys, she intended to hit the unlock button, but her hands shook. The keys clattered to the pavement. The footsteps drew closer. The Jaws music playing in her head increased in tempo.

  Maybe she wasn’t being silly. Breath hitched, she took off at a dead run away from her car.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sue had only made it past the trunk when she heard, “Ma’am!” The nonthreatening young female voice brought her to an embarrassed stop. She turned and faced the pregnant waitress standing about ten feet behind her.

  “Someone forgot their papers.” The waitress held a stack of manuscript pages to her round belly. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t. I ran because…I’m training for a marathon.” She grinned at the obvious lie.

  The waitress chuckled and, edging closer, handed Sue the papers. “I see you guys in here every week. Ask for me next time.”

  “We will, Tina,” Sue told the girl, remembering her name. “Thanks.”

  Hand on her belly, the waitress wobbled away. She looked way too young to wobble. Sue wondered if she was wobbling through the pregnancy alone. She placed her fingers on her own flat stomach. There had been the time in her marriage when she’d thought she was pregnant. Collin had been thrilled, but it had been a false alarm. Shortly after she’d learned what else gave him thrills.

  Shaking her head, Sue rattled the memory from her brain. She had outlawed all memories of her ex-husband, because even the good memories ultimately led to the bad ones. The bad ones brought on self-doubt. Self-doubt brought on fear. And fear made her want to verbally castrate every male that came within ten feet. She’d stopped mentally castrating men about four months ago, right after one blond cop started making her want something other than revenge.

  Jason’s face filled her mind. The memory of his kiss echoed: the way he’d tasted, the way he’d felt, all hard and solid against her.

  “No!” She tossed his image, with the memories, into a mental Dumpster. “I should have used the dead dog trick on him, too.”

  Without haste, she found her keys and took off to enjoy her hurricane and cookies. Maybe her grandma hadn’t burnt them this time.

  Sue rose on her toes and kissed her grandfather’s cheek in greeting. “Sorry. We had a lot to go over to night. Where’s Grandma?”

  At eighty-three, the man had likely shrunk a few inches, but his thick, curly hair, growing coarser with age, now stood up by its roots and made up for any such loss. Sue often wondered why she couldn’t have inherited his height or thick hair.

  She glanced at the Lyle Lovett hairdo and decided she’d keep her own. However, bad hair and all, she loved every inch of this man. After she’d lost her father at age eight, her grandfather had filled his shoes. They were big shoes to fill.

  He nudged her into the kitchen. “Your grandma’s on the phone. Your mom’s talking about your Mexican physician with a foot fetish.”

  Great! Her mother was tattling again. “He’s not Mexican; I’m supposed to go to Ixtapa with him this weekend. And he’s a podiatrist.”

  Her grandparents seldom watched the local news, so perhaps they’d missed the news segment about her receiving a dead rat. She wasn’t about to tell them, and neither would her mom. At least Sue hoped. With her mom, one could never be sure. It depended on how much wine she’d consumed.

  Her grandpa’s bushy eyebrows knitted together. “That explains the foot fetish.” He picked up a charred-around-the-edges cookie. “Oh, your grandma cooked her casserole. I mentioned sending it home with you. Don’t eat it.” He rubbed his stomach. “But if you’d take it, I’d be appreciative.”

  Clean-fridge casserole: Dump everything together, stir ten seconds, ignore smells and mold, bake at 400 for one hour.

  Sue shook her head. “This is ridiculous. Tell her to throw the leftovers away.”

  “She went hungry as a child. Throwing food away is blasphemy to her. And it wasn’t that bad this time. She added that mushroom soup.”

  Sue’s stomach roiled. “You love her so much that you’d risk having your stomach pumped again before you’d tell her she’s poisoning you?”

  The wrinkles around his eyes softened. “Yup. That much. So why does your mother have her nose out of joint about this doctor?” He picked up the cookie plate.

  “I’ll give you one guess.” Sue followed her grandpa to the kitchen table where a pitcher of Kool-Aid with rum waited. He placed the cookies beside a basket of fake fruit.

  “The doctor thing, huh?” Grandpa answered.

  “You got it.”

  Her grandpa filled a glass and handed it to her. “What do you think about the doc?”

  “He’s a nice guy.” Sue picked up a cookie and looked at the edges.

  “But?”

  “I didn’t say ‘but.’ All I said—”
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  “I heard the ‘but.’ ” He poured himself a drink and his aged hand shook. Those shakes always got to her.

  “I just want to move on with my life,” she grumbled.

  Her grandpa patted her wrist. “You will, Princess. You’ll meet someone who takes your breath away. Just like I met your grandma. But until then, don’t settle.”

  The words reminded Sue of Jason’s kiss. “Having the breath knocked out of you isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Neither is settling. And we both know you settled when you married—”

  “Collin just had issues.” But why she continued defending him was a brain stumper. She tapped her foot on the floor. “Is it supposed to rain tomorrow?”

  Sympathy creased her grandpa’s mouth. “I forgot the no-talk-about-Collin rule.” A frown pulled at his aged eyes. “The thing about washing mistakes from your mind is you have a tendency to repeat them. For example, does this doctor have issues?”

  “Grandpa…”

  He pointed a cookie at her. “You only seem to fall for guys with issues. Remember that high-school football player? Did he ever get out of prison?”

  “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you? I told you, he said he worked with his dad in the banking business. I didn’t know they paired up to rob them.” Sue sank into a chair. With no desire to rehash her romantic fiascos, she took a conversational turn. “Pretty weather today, wasn’t it?”

  “Okay, I’ll change the subject.” He eased into a chair. “Have you noticed anything strange about your mom lately?”

  “You mean the wardrobe?” Sue started folding and unfolding a paper napkin. Some things one couldn’t tell their grandpa. The fact that his daughter was bumping uglies with a fruit salesman definitely fell into that category.

  “I hadn’t noticed the wardrobe, but she hasn’t come up with a new disease-of-the-week in a month. Yesterday, she said something about fruit juice keeping her healthy.”

  Sue started rearranging the plastic bananas in the bowl. “She does have a healthy glow about her.” A forced smile in place, Sue attempted another conversational U-turn. “I started my new book.”

  “Susie Veronica!” Her grandma sashayed into the room and placed a kiss on Sue’s cheek. “We need to talk, young lady. Your mom is concerned. Did you know…?”

  After her grandma’s speech about the perils of not listening to her mother, her grandpa walked Sue to her car. He handed over the casserole and foil-wrapped pizza. “Don’t eat the pizza either,” he said. “Nearly broke a tooth on it a week ago. And don’t be upset with your grandma or mother. They’re trying to look out for you.”

  “They’re both nuts. We are the only normal ones in the family.” Sue opened her car door and glanced at her grandpa. “Take some Rolaids and Vitamin C before bed.”

  “Normal?” Her grandpa’s hair, an inch high, bobbed from side to side. “Have you forgotten about my bug collection? We’re all abnormal. You, too.”

  “Being a collector doesn’t make you nuts. And I’m not a hypochondriac and I don’t poison my loved ones with my cooking. But talking about doctor’s appointments, your appointment is on Monday. I’ll pick you guys up around nine.”

  He tilted his head. “They love you, Susie.”

  “I know.” She kissed her grandpa again. “I’m just glad I took after you.”

  “Me? I don’t kill people on paper, and I’ve never dated a bank robber.”

  Sue grinned. “Okay, you’re the only normal one. I’ll call in a few days.”

  “Does that mean you’re not going to Mexico?”

  “Nice weather, isn’t it?”

  Her grandpa laughed. “Let the fellow down easy.”

  Let the fellow down easy. Sue pulled up in her driveway and sat thinking how she’d give Paul the news. “I can’t go because I’ve got to give my cat a bath.” She dropped her head on the steering wheel. “I can’t go because I’m terrible at faking orgasms and if your kisses are any indication, then…”

  Whoever said that truth was the best policy had never dealt with her situation. Sue reached for the door and noted the darkness and the soft cries of the wind. Moonlit tree shadows danced on the ground. Creepy.

  Grabbing the pizza and casserole, she darted across the yard. If someone attacked, she could whack them with the pizza. Weeks old, the thing could offer a lethal blow. She imagined the headline: Mystery Writer Kills Stalker with Deep Dish, Extra Cheese Pie. Her agent would love that. “Any press is good press,” Melissa would say.

  After scurrying inside and hitting the lock, Sue’s surge of panic decreased. Kneeling, she set the dish and pizza on the floor, then petted Hitchcock, who sideswiped her ankles. Stroking his gray fur, her thoughts zapped back to Paul. “What do I tell him? Maybe you could cough up a few hairballs and I could tell him I’m afraid to leave you.”

  Hitchcock meowed but didn’t offer up a convenient, excuse-laden hairball. Moving inside, Sue noted the light on her answering machine flashed. She thought of the hang-ups and, squaring her shoulders, hit the play button and went to dump the casserole down the disposal.

  “Sue. It’s Melissa. I’m back in New Jersey and got a copy of the book with the new cover. It looks good. The artist you met and didn’t like did a fine job. But he put a dead rat in the corner of the cover, and that’s when I remembered about the rat scene in your book. This is strange. You getting the rat. I want you to be careful. Your royalties are paying for my retirement.” She chuckled nervously. “Seriously, do you have a gun?”

  “No, but I have a pizza.” Sue dropped the pizza in the trash. Hitchcock jumped up on the counter, rubbing his soft face against her cheek. “And I’ve got Hitchcock.” Scratching the feline under his chin, Sue waited for the next message.

  “Sue,” Paul’s voice came on the line. “My…ex called. Our son broke his toe. We’re going to have to postpone our trip.”

  What? Relief swirled along her rib cage. Postponed?

  “Consider it postponed.” Sue danced across the kitchen. Her dance petered out when she realized Paul had never told her he had a son. Or an ex-wife. Why would he have never told her? The realization that the trip wasn’t the only thing that needed to be postponed rained down on her. The whole relationship needed to be put on the back burner or run down the disposal like a bad casserole. Her grandpa was right. Settling wasn’t good enough. She wanted a guy without issues; she wanted the kind of love her grandparents had. A guy who’d eat her cooking and never complain. The thing was: her ex, Collin, had never complained.

  You only fall for guys with issues. Her grandfather’s words plowed through her mind. Problem was, she hadn’t even known about Collin’s issues when she married him—hadn’t even known about them when she divorced him. But she had loved him, and his double dose of deception left her emotionally crippled.

  Or had her grandpa nailed that one, too? Had she been settling when she agreed to marry Collin? Had she really loved him? More than once her mother had commented that Collin looked like her father. Had she been trying to fill the void of a missing dad?

  Dear Lord, her father would die again if he knew she’d compared him to a man who…

  What a nice day! She changed mental channels so fast her brain went on overload.

  Her answering machine beeped. The third message clicked on. Silence. Then…“Sue, sweet Sue,” the voice whispered.

  Sue rose up, remembering similar words in her novel, “Sally, sweet Sally.” Words spoken by a killer. Fear knotted her stomach. The machine clicked off. Who was doing this? And why?

  The phone rang. Sue jumped. Then, bracing herself, she forced herself to answer. “Hello?” Her heart pumped, sending a gushing sound into her ears.

  “Hey. You okay?” Lacy’s voice blended with the gushing.

  “Yeah.”

  “I wanted to say good luck this weekend. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

  Sue almost told Lacy that her weekend had been canceled, but her heart hadn’t stopped r
acing, and the voice of the caller kept ringing in her head. She half considered telling Chase about the calls and the rat scene in her book. But Lacy kept chirping about their vacation.

  Telling Chase wouldn’t help, but it might scare loyal Lacy enough to cancel their trip. And with Lacy looking forward to spending time with Chase’s sister and niece, Sue couldn’t do that, but what she could do…

  Moving across the room as Lacy rattled on, Sue dug in her kitchen drawer until she found the card of the officer who had handled the rat incident. Officer Martin had made a point of telling her that he lived only five minutes away. He’d even written his home phone number on the back of the card and said if she needed anything to call him.

  Sue had a feeling “anything” included swapping bodily fluids. Not that she’d go there, but calling him about the prank calls? Yup, she’d do that. And she’d also do as Melissa recommended and buy a gun.

  “You okay?” Lacy asked. “You’re quiet. You are never quiet.”

  “Well, after Dodd’s comment, I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf.”

  “Don’t pay attention to him. He’s a great guy but…he has serious issues.”

  Well, that explained why Sue found him so dang attractive. “What kind of issues?”

  “You name it. He failed relationship 101 and obviously French kissing, as well. Chase told me about the Mr. Deep Throat comment. Good one.” Lacy laughed but Sue couldn’t return it.

  Sue, sweet Sue. This was too much like her book. What if these weren’t just prank calls? Okay, tomorrow she was so buying a gun.

  But until then…Walking over to the trash, she retrieved the foil-wrapped package. Until then, the petrified pizza would have to do.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Lacy asked.

  “Positive.”

  “We’ll be back on Friday,” Lacy said. “I’m still planning on being at Kathy’s Friday night. Gosh, I’ll miss you guys.”

  They chatted a few more minutes and said good-bye. Then with her cat in one hand and the pizza in another, Sue decided to call it a night.