Now And Always (Crown Creek)

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Now And Always (Crown Creek) Page 20

by Theresa Leigh


  She was doing her best to flatter me, and part of me had to admit it felt good. I took my seat across from her and tried to look at her like another man would. I let my eyes wander across her petite, curvy frame, noting how her bright red dress clung in all the right places. She had dimples and long straight hair that streamed down her back, the ends still sun-kissed from the summer. She had a round face, but her body was toned and tight. I pegged her for the kind of girl who worked hard to keep her natural plumpness at bay.

  In short, she was adorable. I could see this with my eyes, note it with my brain.

  But my body felt absolutely nothing.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” she said, dimples popping. “I love this place. They make their own salsa. Here.” She shoved the complimentary bowl of nachos to me. I took one to be polite, chewing without tasting. “Are you hungry? Did you work today? Did you make any resolutions?”

  “Um—”

  She waved her hands. “Sorry, I’m nervous.”

  “It’s okay.” I leaned in. “I am too.”

  Another dimple. She really was cute. Cute enough that some of the dudebros at the bar were giving me appraising looks. What is she doing with that doofus? If I were with Claire, I would point that out, tease her a bit about which one was her boyfriend and if his IQ was the same as his shoe size. Would Kelly appreciate it if I did that? She and Claire worked together, but—

  “So you’re a woodworker, right?”

  I blinked back at her. “Yes, how did you know?”

  “Claire told me.”

  “Of course she did.” I shook my head. “Did she give you a printed handout too?”

  “Huh? No. Should she have?” Kelly looked frantic. “Claire told me a lot about you, I hope that’s okay.”

  I shook my head. “Never mind. Yes. I’m a woodworker.” I glanced at the menu, flipping through the laminated pages. It went on and on, and nothing looked good. I glanced at my phone. I’d only been here five minutes.

  “Um.” Kelly cleared her throat.

  I looked up. Oh, right. Conversation. Claire would be kicking my foot under the table right now. “Yes, I’ve been building things since I was a kid.”

  “How cool!” She leaned in, rapt. “What was the first thing you built?”

  “I don’t remember. It was that long ago, I guess. My dad got me started. He would give me kits to keep me quiet. And when he didn’t have a kit handy, he would give me a box of nails and some old scraps of lumber and tell me to go nuts.”

  “What did you make?”

  “I mostly just hammered as many nails into the wood as I could.” She looked confused at that and I shrugged, trying to elaborate. “My parents had me when they were older. My sister is eleven years older than me, and pretty levelheaded. They’d gotten to the point where everything in their lives was in order, and here I come, breaking everything in sight. I think they were just trying to channel the natural tendency towards destructiveness that all little boys have. Giving me the scrap wood kept me from hammering the nails into my mother’s dining room table, you know?”

  Claire would have laughed at that, and probably given me some shit about how I wasn’t destructive and had actually been born an eighty-year-old man. But Kelly looked horrified. “Did you actually do that?”

  I blinked at her. “No, because I had the scrap wood.”

  “Oh. Ha!” She laughed, but I could tell she didn’t think it was funny. I thought it was funny. But I was pretty sure I didn’t know anything about how to make regular girls laugh. Only Claire.

  We were saved from awkward silence by the waiter coming to take our order. “I’ll have the huevos rancheros,” Kelly said brightly.

  I put in my order, and the weight of the silence pressed down again. I wracked my brain for something to ask her. What had Claire said I should talk about on dates? Ask her what she likes, right? She’d ordered the huevos rancheros, so— “You like eggs?” It came out more like a challenge than a question. Good job, Ethan. You are officially the least smooth person on the planet.

  “Um, yeah, I guess!”

  Kelly was looking at me like I’d lost my mind. She was probably right. “You know the secret to perfect scrambled eggs?” I asked her, seemingly hell-bent on digging myself further into this awkward-egg-related hole. “Do you?”

  “Um, I just pour them in a pan and wiggle it around.”

  “No, no, you’ve gotta just drag the spatula along the bottom. The less movement the better.”

  “But…” She frowned, wrinkling her nose like a bunny. “They’re called scrambled.” She mimed moving her hand in circles. “Like…they have to be uh, scrambled.”

  “No, that’s going to make them tough.” I mentally smacked myself in the head. Really, Ethan? You’re on a date and arguing with her about eggs. I took a deep breath and tried to focus. “Just try it sometime, you’ll like it,” I said, leaning back. “So tell me, Kelly.” I draped my arm over the chair, hoping if I looked casual, she wouldn’t notice the flop-sweat that was starting to prick along my hairline.

  “What, Ethan?” She leaned forward in anticipation.

  And I literally forgot everything I could have asked her. What did people talk about? She’d asked me about my work, so maybe I should do the same. “So you work with Claire, huh? How is that?”

  A flicker of something crossed her face. She sat back. “It’s great!” she said. Her dimple must have gone into hiding. “She’s really good at her job.”

  “How so?” I leaned in, suddenly eager. Finding out how Claire was at work felt almost voyeuristic. “She must be really particular about stuff, huh?”

  Kelly shook her head. “Not too bad. And she always takes the fall for me if I screw up. Like the other day we had a meeting with a client, and I’m in charge of getting them all signed in, right?” Her eyes shone as she warmed up to her story. “And it’s a firm owned by these two brothers, except for some reason I got it in my head that it was father and son, and—” She buried her face in her hands and moaned. “So I’m there in the meeting, and I make some dumbass comment about how the balding one must have been a dad super young. And Claire somehow managed to get them talking about family and birth order and it was like magic. No one noticed that I’d made a gaffe like that.”

  A surge of pride rose up in me. “That’s—” I caught myself, realizing I was about to say that’s my girl. “That’s great,” I finished lamely. “Um, I’ve known her forever, but I can’t imagine working for her.”

  Kelly blinked. She lifted her water glass to her lips and took a long sip before setting it back down again. “Yeah,” she said tightly. “She says you guys used to run track together. I’m training for a 5k.”

  “That’s awesome. Good luck.”

  She paused, seeming to wait for me to say something else. “Do you still run, Ethan?” she asked pointedly.

  I shook my head. “Not as much as I should.”

  “Maybe we could go on a run together? You could give me pointers.”

  I shook my head and pointed out the window. “You don’t want to run in that. You’ll break an ankle.”

  Kelly looked frustrated for some reason.

  She’s flirting with you, you idiot. “I mean.” I coughed and cleared my throat. “It would be safer to do it indoors.” Do it? Was that too much innuendo? “Running, I mean. Do you live near a track, maybe? There’s one at Crown Valley College I can get into with my ID.”

  Kelly perked up, seemingly about to agree. But at that moment, our food arrived. I stared down at the sizzling fajitas, trying to remember if that’s what I had ordered. Kelly touched the waiter’s arm. “Can you bring me a bottle of hot sauce?” she asked.

  Like Claire. “Oh, you like hot sauce on your eggs, too?”

  Kelly gave me a confused look.

  “I mean, uh. Spicy. Do you like spicy food? Usually?”

  She frowned. “I guess? Some kinds of food, yeah.”

  “Claire loves Thai food, the spicier the
better. Though I don’t know if she can eat it now that she’s—” Shit, did Kelly know that Claire was pregnant?

  Kelly picked up her fork and scooped a deliberate trail through her refried beans. “I don’t know,” she said, fork hovering in front of her mouth. “I’ve never had Thai food.” She took a huge mouthful.

  “Oh, you should. There’s a Thai restaurant in Crown Creek she likes. I think she’s the only reason they stay in business.”

  Kelly chewed her mouthful, keeping her eyes trained on me. I got the feeling there was something she wanted, something more. “Oh, you’d need to know the name, right? It’s called Family Thai’s. Cute, right? You should definitely go.”

  She wiped her mouth delicately with her napkin before replacing it in her lap. “Okay.” She scooped another huge forkful into her mouth.

  I took her cue to try a mouthful of my own. The restaurant had grown somehow even louder the longer we sat here. I hunched my shoulders, pressing my elbows tightly to my sides to keep from getting jostled by the people around us, and longed for the familiar comfort of our table at the Crown. Or better yet, my house.

  “What?” I asked. Kelly had said something, but I couldn’t hear it over the din.

  “I said, I can’t believe it’s a new year already!”

  “Oh! Yeah!” I shook my head in commiseration. “I’m glad though, this one has been a doozy.”

  “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

  I swallowed my bite of fajita. “Well, let’s see. Did Claire tell you about how her brother disappeared?”

  Kelly sighed so loud I could actually hear it over the noise of the revelers. “Yeah, she did. That was so strange. She was so upset.”

  “I know. But she’s better now, right?” I leaned in closer so I didn’t miss anything she might say. “You think she’s doing better now? How is she acting? At work, I mean.”

  Kelly took her napkin from her lap and set it on the table. She scooped one more bite into her mouth.

  And then, to my surprise, she stood up.

  “You heading to the bathroom?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Ethan. You’re a nice guy. I can tell you’re one of the good ones. And you’re stupid hot too. But this isn’t working for me.”

  “Um, why?”

  She actually laughed. “You’re still hung up on your ex.”

  “My ex? Alex? How do you know her?”

  “I’m talking about Claire.”

  “Oh!” I waved my hand. “No, no, you misunderstood. Claire and I never dated.”

  Kelly blinked. “Well then you need to. Because you’re obsessed.”

  I smacked my hand to my forehead and then dragged it down my face. “Shit.” I stood up. “Kelly,” I said as I touched her arm. She was soft. Warm. Her skin was silky under my fingertips. I gritted my teeth and tried like hell to rustle up the correct feelings. “I’m sorry. You’re right for calling me out. I’m being an ass and you deserve better. Can I try again, please?”

  Her fingers lingered just over my hand. Gently, she pried me loose, squeezing my fingertips as she did so.

  Just then, my phone blinked to life. We both turned to look at it. When I saw the name on the screen, my heart gave a leap, and then dropped because I’d been caught. Like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. There was no way I could convince Kelly I was over Claire.

  Not when I ached to know why she was calling me. Did she need me? My hands twitched with the need to answer her call.

  Kelly twisted her head and read Claire’s name on the Caller ID. Her mouth kicked up in a wry smile.

  “Um.”

  “Right. Tell her I said hi.” She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from her purse, but I shook my head, mortified. I owed her a dinner at the very least. She nodded in acknowledgment and put it away. “I hope you two figure it out,” she said with a dimple-free smile. She squeezed my hand, then let it drop. “Happy New Year, Ethan. Good night.”

  I knew I should go after her. Once Claire’s name faded from my screen, I actually started to.

  But then my screen lit up again.

  And I lifted it to my ear to answer Claire’s call.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Claire

  There was nothing wrong with this baby. I was doing everything right, I was sure of it.

  But Seth would not. Stop. Crying.

  When Rebecca reluctantly handed her baby boy to me, he went willingly into my arms. He buried his little face in my neck, mouthing my bare skin like an openmouthed kiss.

  I melted. My insides went to goo as a flood of maternal instincts kicked into overdrive. I instantly started swaying side to side, cooing nonsense in his perfect little ear. His chubby fist swung frantically in the air until he caught hold of my neckline and clung tight. “See?” I told Rebecca, puffed up with triumph. “He’s hugging me. He loves me already.” I patted her shoulder. “We’re going to be just fine.”

  Rebecca watched all this with openmouthed surprise. And I’ll admit, I felt a touch smug. There was nothing to worry about. I was a natural.

  When they left, I crossed the vast expanse of Finn and Beau’s sunken living room and settled into the leather sofa near the fireplace. “What do you think, baby?” I asked Seth, cradling him on my thighs so he could look above us to the slowly rotating ceiling fan. “This is pretty nice, right? Just you and me? You can call me Aunt Claire, by the way. I know it’s not by blood or anything, but this family is getting more complicated by the year, so let’s dispense with the formality.” Seth yawned, showing me his pearly pink gums. I laughed. “Right, you’re already over it. Family dynamics are so boring, I get it.”

  He waved his little hands in the air, his gaze fixed on the ceiling fan. The fire popped and spat in the grate. It was all so peaceful. Nothing to do but dote on the tiny bundle on my lap. I jiggled my legs up and down and he cooed. I let him grip my pinky fingers with his grabby hands and played an old clapping game from my childhood, the lyrics swimming up from the depths of my memories. “Miss Mary Mack Mack Mack, all dressed in black black black,” I chanted.

  When I’d exhausted my supply of schoolyard rhymes, I moved on to music. “That was the only lullaby I know,” I confessed once I’d finished my halting rendition of “Rock-a-Bye Baby.” “Apparently I need to brush up on my baby songs. Uh.” I wracked my brain for other songs that I knew by heart. “I’m not singing you my brothers’ songs. That feels wrong. And um….Wow, all the songs I know are wildly inappropriate for an infant. Um, don’t tell your mother,” I said before launching into a lusty rendition of “Sweet Child O’Mine.”

  Seth seemed fascinated and focused on me so hard that his eyes crossed. His funny faces made me laugh. I was having fun.

  That was a long, long time ago.

  “What’s wrong?” I now asked. For maybe the millionth time. But my only answer was another wail.

  I glanced at the clock on the microwave. An hour. Seth had been crying for a full hour now and nothing I did seemed to help. I bounced him up and down, which he hated. I took giant strides across the room, wearing a trail in the carpet. He screamed. I took tiny little steps and he let out a shrill cry that made my ears ring.

  “You’re okay, baby. Jesus, what is wrong?” For the fifth time, I stuck my finger down the back of his diaper. He was still dry. I laid him down on the floor, clapping my hand to one ear while with the other I searched for a pin or a tag that was poking him. Something. There had to be something.

  “Oh God, baby boy, what is up with you?” I scooped the red-faced, wailing infant off the floor and resumed bouncing. A tension headache was settling in behind my eyes. Half from the noise and half because I’d planned on eating my dinner once I got him down to sleep. I looked longingly at my plastic container on the counter, waiting to be heated up. But every time I stopped moving, Seth screamed harder. “Baby baby baby,” I chanted. “Please, I don’t know what’s got you so upset. Please, stop crying, it’s okay. I swear, it’s okay!”

  I wiped at my eyes. “
It’s okay,” I repeated, as much for me as for him. But he screamed and flailed backwards like he was trying to escape my inadequate arms. When he didn’t manage that, he let out another wail and pummeled my face with furious little fists.

  I wasn’t good at this. I wasn’t a natural. With each agonizing minute that crawled by, I sank lower and lower. “Baby, baby, baby,” I chanted, passing by the sliding glass doors for the millionth time. This time I caught a glimpse of myself reflected back at me. It was fully dark outside now, and my reflection stared back at me wild-eyed. One side of my hair was plastered against my face, and I brushed it back impatiently. I was sweating with the effort. Me, who used to run five-hundred-meter dashes for fun. This baby on my shoulder was like holding a raging inferno. His fury made him uncomfortably hot. I passed by the bathroom and looked longingly at the shower. Maybe he was hot too? I grasped frantically. Maybe I could strip us both down and stand under the cool spray? Would that work?

  I set him down on the floor. He couldn’t fall off the floor, I reasoned as I walked away, intending to strip down to my underwear.

  I’d only made it five steps away from him when he wailed so piteously that I swore my heart turned inside out.

  “Oh my God, Seth. I’m here. I’m right here.” I rushed over to him. He was purple-faced with rage, and his cries had taken on a gagging quality. “You’re going to make yourself sick, little baby. Just please! Stop crying! What do you want, do you want Mommy?”

  I could call Rebecca. I wouldn’t even need to say anything. Just put the phone next to Seth and let his cries call her home. She was a good mother and she would move heaven and earth to get here ASAP if she knew her baby was distressed. I could smile and shrug and apologize, and then go home and sit in a dark, quiet room for the next week.

  But this was the first time she’d ever left him at night. If I called her home now, she’d never leave the house again. My failing would just prove to her that it wasn’t safe.

 

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