Sticky Notes - A clean romance (Ethel King Series Book 1)

by Sherri Schoenborn Murray

  “I feel comfortable reviewing my evening with the three of you and Carl, but when we add another person, an outsider, it isn’t the same. To be honest, last Friday was awkward.”

  His answer was understandable.

  “Katherine . . .”

  “Yes.” Now that she’d officially broken up with Brad, she felt so relaxed, like she’d just taken a long, hot bubble bath.

  “I don’t know if you remember this because of the morphine, but when you were in the hospital, shortly after you arrived, you confided to me you watch movies when your grandmother’s not home.”

  “It’s not like you think, Quinn.” His first name was becoming easier to say. She’d never really liked calling him Benton, but it had sounded more formal than calling him by his first name.

  “Please expound.”

  “I do watch movies when I’m here alone. Occasionally. There’s no nudity, or anything to be ashamed of.”

  “Then why do you only watch them when you’re alone?”

  “Everyone spends their quiet time alone a little differently, I suppose.”

  “Katherine . . .” He returned the recliner to an upright position and moved to sit on the coffee table, directly facing her.

  “Yes.” Gone was the relaxed bubble bath feeling.

  “Remember that Monday you skipped class due to food poisoning, and Ethel had her hair done, the day she spoke with President Morrison?”

  “Yes.” What was he getting at?

  “I remember thinking when I visited that you looked like you’d been crying.”

  “I’d had food poisoning; of course, I’d been crying.”

  “No, you told me you were on the mend, that you’d kept down a piece of toast.”

  Grandma had probably told him about the Doctor Zhivago party, and he was letting his imagination run wild, yet accurate.

  “Katherine . . . you’d been crying when you came to the door. There were visible tears in your lashes.”

  He was not going to take Friday away from her. She’d made it this far, through the Quinn List, and Brad, and Miss Palouse. She was going to make it to Alex’s, and he was going to be so surprised when she turned out to be his Miss Wazzu. The look on his face would more than make up for his present pain. Wouldn’t it?

  “Katherine . . . what movie do you watch when you’re here all alone?”

  She stared into his eyes and locked her secret behind the chambers of her heart.

  “Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Harrison Ford is very good looking.” She’d watched the first half hour of it yesterday when she’d felt too groggy for textbooks.

  “Admit it, you’re lying.” His large, woeful eyes told her he wasn’t very good at long-suffering either.

  “I’m lying.”

  He pinched the corners of his eyes and tipped his head back toward the ceiling.

  “Are you going to tell me the truth?”

  She shook her head. If she told him that she’d recently watched Doctor Zhivago several times, and for specific scenes, Quinn would know it was because of her love for him. In his elation, he might also trip on the porch steps, fall into Grandma’s rhododendron bush, and snag the hem of his trousers on the picket fence.

  “You look awfully smug about something.” He rose from the coffee table, and with his hands on his hips, paced about the room.

  “Are you going to tell me?” He crossed his arms, facing her.

  She shook her head. Thank goodness she’d hidden the Zhivago movie in the bottom drawer of the curio cabinet.

  Stopping in front of the TV, he pressed Eject on the VCR machine. The cartridge in hand, he strode toward her. “Admit it, Katherine, you love me.”

  If he glanced down, he’d see that it was Raiders of the Lost Ark he held in his possession.

  This was Grandma’s doing. She must have found the tape and snitched on her. The whole world was against her except for Evans. Evans and God were her allies.

  Please, Lord . . . please, Lord . . . please, Lord, help me to make it till Friday. Friday’s going to be so great.

  “Katherine, would you just look at yourself.” Quinn sighed. “You’re praying right in front of me like your life depends on it.”

  Her traitorous hands were even clasped together—prayer-like.

  Oh, how she just wanted to lay her heart at Quinn’s feet and tell him she loved him.

  “Katherine . . .” He sighed. “You don’t understand; when you look at me, there is so much love in your eyes. I’ve made big mistakes this summer in our courtship. But it takes two, Katherine. You love me, Katherine. Please face it.” He sighed and set Raiders of the Lost Ark on the coffee table.

  “Here’s proof of your love for me.”

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she’d really never found Harrison Ford all that handsome. Finally, his gaze lowered to read the title of the videotape. His brows knit together, and he scanned the cartridge again before returning to the VCR. Quinn only glanced toward the kitchen once. He didn’t mumble Grandma’s name or even tell Katherine good-bye before he exited the front door instead of the back.

  She sighed and covered her face with her hands. Friday is going to be so great. She sure hoped Evans was right.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Thursday afternoon when the phone rang, Katherine was on her way from the kitchen to the living room. “Hello,” she said into the receiver.

  “Lady Katherine, it’s Evans.”

  “Hi . . . any news?” She glanced toward the kitchen. Grandma was seated at the kitchen table, playing Scrabble by herself with an open dictionary.

  “I have secured a Washington female’s phone number for Benton. A married friend of Mashburn’s. The woman sounds young enough, but she’s actually in her fifties.” Evans chuckled. “Hopefully, Benton will follow through and call her tonight, and I’ll get back to you regarding where and when the rendezvous will take place.”

  “He told me that he’s meeting Miss Wazzu at Alex’s,” she whispered.

  “He hasn’t even spoken with her yet. The dog!” Evans paused. “How are you holding up? If I didn’t know better, I’d say that he is tripping over himself about now. And nice job with Dr. Hungerbottom last night. Quinn is beside himself.”

  “It’s been a difficult but rewarding week,” Katherine whispered. “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

  “Good, well, do your best not to give in. No matter how charming he may be. I wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out that you are Miss Wazzu.”

  “Wait a minute, please,” Katherine said, and slid the pocket door closed.

  “Do you have company?”

  “Just Grandma,” Katherine whispered, “and she cares for Benton so much, I’m afraid she’d say or bake anything to put him out of his present misery.”

  Evans chuckled. “The same applies to Cindy.”

  It made sense. “A couple of times, Quinn’s mentioned a particular phone call. I think it may have had something to do with my accident and his feelings for me.” Katherine toyed with the phone cord.

  “It was the call when you were at the creek. Claire, also known as Miss Palouse, was the 9-1-1 operator that day. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you.”

  Katherine’s shoulders felt weak.

  “We were at the hospital before you were. He was a wreck.”

  “But he was so cool to me there.” Tears clouded her eyes.

  “You forget how friendly you were with Hungerbottom.”

  “I don’t remember a thing.” Poor Quinn.

  “You were emotionally unveiled, Katherine, and Hungerbottom was immediately taken with you. Several times I’ve had to remind Benton that you were on morphine.”

  “I feel awful. Brad is such a sweet soul.”

  “Don’t feel so awful that you muddle Friday’s plans. It’s going to be great.”

  Katherine nodded. “Yes, it is. It’s going to be great.”

&nbs
p; Katherine stared out the window at the summer blue sky. It all made sense. Quinn’s vagueness, his coldness, his aloofness. She hurt for both Quinn and Brad. When she returned the wheelchair and crutches, she’d give Brad a thank-you card. And she’d pray that he’d soon find the right, wonderful Christian woman that God intended him to be with.

  Grandma slid the door open. “Who was that?”

  “I’m afraid if I tell you that you’ll tell Quinn.”

  Grandma’s brows gathered. “Not Joe again?”

  “No, Grandma.”

  “Dr. Brad?”

  “No, Grandma.”

  “Mr. Flagrant?”

  “No!”

  “I don’t want to know.” Grandma sighed.

  “It’s probably best you don’t. Grandma, is Quinn coming to dinner?”

  Her mouth bunched. “Yes, I hope you don’t mind; if you do, you can eat in your room.”

  “I don’t mind. Who called who?”

  “I called him. When you and Dr. Brad were so quiet last night out here—” Grandma pointed to the couch. “You didn’t see his face, but I did. He was hurting, and it was too quiet in here.”

  “Well, if he asks, and not before, you can let him know that he’s still the only man I’ve kissed in five years.”

  Grandma turned and headed back to her Scrabble game. With her back to Katherine, she slid the letter tiles into the cloth bag. “I’m done with my homework for the day,” she announced.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Quinn wanted me to find out if Brad kissed you.”

  “Well, remind him that there’s always tomorrow.”

  “Katherine!” Grandma turned to stare at her. “You gave up on your own long-suffering, and now you’re enjoying his. I think you’re just plain awful.”

  Katherine bit the insides of her cheeks. Grandma was right. She was plain awful.

  Ж

  Katherine didn’t take a good look at Quinn until after Grandma said the blessing. Several large wrinkles marred his Dartmouth-green polo. Even the tips of his collar were curled up.

  “You didn’t wear that polo to class today—did you?” she asked, before taking a bite of ham-and-potato casserole.

  “Evans already lectured me.”

  Katherine raised her brows. “Looks like you left it in the to-fold pile too long.”

  “I did.” He sighed. “Is Brad coming over tonight?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Who called earlier when you pulled the pocket door closed?”

  Grandma was not to be trusted. “Benton, after dinner I would love to discuss this with you.”

  “But not now, because . . .”

  “After dishes, we’ll sit on the couch, and I’ll discuss this with you.”

  He sighed and lowered his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Katherine, I haven’t felt this keyed up in years.”

  “Why?” Grandma reached out and patted his hand.

  “Katherine knows how I feel about her, Ethel.”

  The phone rang.

  “Do you want me to get that?” Quinn asked.

  Grandma looked at Katherine.

  “I’ll get it.” Turning in her chair, Katherine positioned her weight on her left foot before standing up. The phone rang again. She only had two more rings before it went to recorder. On crutches, she crossed the kitchen at a record pace and snagged the receiver before the fourth ring.

  “Hello.”

  “Katherine, it’s Evans.”

  She looked at the pocket door and decided not to pull it closed.

  “Hi, Joe.”

  “It’s Evans.”

  “Yes, Joe.”

  “I see . . . Benton’s there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll get to the point. He called Lori, our Miss Wazzu, this afternoon. He’s meeting her at Alex’s tomorrow at seven o’clock. He asked Lori to pray for a woman whom he refers to as Miss Moscow. Supposedly, she’s madly in love with him, but she hasn’t realized it yet. He was very concerned that our Miss Wazzu know this up front.”

  “The dog!” Katherine said.

  Evans chuckled. “Stay strong. Tomorrow night’s going to be great.”

  Katherine hung up the receiver and with a heavy sigh stared at the top shelf of Grandma’s salt-and-pepper shakers. The collection needed dusting, just like her relationship with Benton.

  “That was Joe?” Grandma asked, adjusting her glasses.

  “Yes.” Katherine nodded.

  “Does he have a dog now?”

  “I think she said, ‘The dog,’” Quinn said.

  “Yes.” Katherine returned to her chair. “A paper . . . that one of his athletes needed to turn in went missing, and she found it . . . all chewed up.”

  Benton’s brows gathered.

  “Her professor will never believe it,” Grandma said.

  “Ethel’s right. Her professor will never believe it.”

  Katherine sighed and prayed that tomorrow night he’d forgive her.

  They ate in silence.

  Quinn had told Miss Wazzu about Miss Moscow. She looked across the table at Quinn. Had he asked his other blind dates to pray for a Miss Moscow? Had he vented to all of them about her? Nurse Kitty had been so disappointed about their date because all they talked about was Katherine. Somehow it made all Quinn Benton’s romantic flaws redeemable.

  “Did you see that, Ethel?” Benton nodded toward Katherine.

  “Yes, yes I did.” Grandma nudged her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose.

  “That’s the look I’ve been telling you about.”

  “I saw it clear as day.”

  “How can your granddaughter look at me that way and date Brad Ungerbach tomorrow night?”

  Oh, the things she could say about Quinn Benton!

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  By the light of a floor lamp, Katherine studied in the La-Z Boy while Quinn helped Grandma put the dinner dishes away. Quinn stepped into the living room and pulled the pocket door closed behind him.

  “I’m back, Katherine.” His deep voice echoed in the trenches of her heart.

  She briefly closed her eyes before lowering her textbook. He sat on the edge of the coffee table kitty-corner to the recliner and crossed his tan arms in front of him. Even though her latest impression of him was that he was flighty, his dark good looks made her heart bounce like a brand-new tennis ball fresh out of the cylinder.

  Tomorrow’s going to be great, she reminded herself of Evans’s comment.

  Quinn’s brows gathered. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re behaving like the old Katherine. Your face is a lovely shade of red, and you’re avoiding gazing into my eyes. You’re avoiding eye contact because you have a two-hour date with Ungerbach tomorrow, who for some reason, did not kiss you last night, even though it was very quiet in here.”

  “That was quite a run-on sentence, Benton.” She glanced at him. Grandma!

  “I love when you call me Benton.” He smiled. “I think I always have.”

  The man was crazy about her. Ring, phone, ring. Be strong. Tomorrow is going to be great.

  “You can’t gaze into my eyes because you’re off your pain meds. Not like before.”

  She should have known he’d test her.

  “Look at me, Katherine.”

  Maybe she shouldn’t have flushed the remaining pills down the toilet.

  “I have a date tomorrow night, Quinn, and it’s unfair of you to tempt me like this.”

  He laughed loudly, sweetly, triumphantly. “Tempt makes me think I must be tempting. What an encouraging word, Katherine.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant . . .” She chewed on her lower lip as Evans’s voice chimed in her head: Tomorrow’s going to be great.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you.” His look was no longer daring and playful—it was painful and somber.

  “If you didn’t want to give me hope, you shouldn’t have told Ethel that I’m still the only m
an you’ve kissed in years, and then added your little slicing comment about tomorrow night.”

  “I’m sorry—I was only kidding.” She meant to glance at him but found herself staring. Emotion glazed her vision. She recalled the verse Even the rocks will cry out.

  “What’s going on, Katherine?” He smoothed her hair away from her face. Traitorous tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Ever since my accident, I’ve been so emotional,” she admitted.

  “What are you trying to tell me? Are you trying to totally break it off with me?”

  No, why in the world would he think that? She shook her head.

  He smiled. “Remember the first time I brought you home, and I wouldn’t let you tell me where you live because we were playing the quiet game?”

  “Yes.” She’d probably liked him even then if she were honest with herself.

  “I already knew where you lived.”

  “Huh?”

  “Cindy didn’t know the house number, but she’d told me about your grandmother’s white picket fence, the yellow bungalow on the corner with a weeping cherry tree.

  “I had so much fun that night . . .” He gazed warmly into her eyes. “That I knew it was a bad sign from a faculty-student point of view.

  “I’ve looked forward more to our recaps on Friday nights than to my actual blind dates. And I really shouldn’t be telling you this until next Friday, when the semester ends, but . . . my heart’s been breaking the rules all along.”

  His knees cracked as he got up and headed for the kitchen.

  “Quinn . . .don’t . . .” Her voice quaked like Scarlett O’Hara’s. Like a fat, juicy peach too heavy for the branch. Like a woman at love’s edge.

  Katherine stared across the room and questioned if she should call Quinn, or drive to his place, or, heaven forbid, wait until tomorrow night to meet him at Alex’s. He was hurting. The way he’d blindly opened the pocket door and brushed past Grandma on his way out with just barely a “Thank you for dinner,” was so unlike him.

  She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t call him. She sat down in a dining chair next to the curio cabinet and dialed his number. After the third ring, he picked up.