by Sandy Loyd
Kate sighed heavily and nodded. Her plans just kept going from bad to worse. At least the skiing promised to be good on Friday. Fresh powder only occurred a couple of times a year in the Sierras. Most of the time, skiers called the hard pack ‘Sierra cement.’ “The snow better be worth it,” she grumbled.
“And you won’t throw out any sarcastic comments?” Judith said, glancing back at her.
“Of course not, but make sure he doesn’t either.” Kate hurried to catch up to her.
“I’ll deal with Paul, you just deal with Kate. I mean it—be nice. This is your weekend, remember.”
“Judith, I’m always nice.” He was the one with the problem.
“Ha! I’ve seen you in action, so cut the crap.” Judith’s brow shot up and she gave her the look. The same look mothers always saved for those special occasions when they knew they’d caught their naughty kids in the act. “I’m expecting you both to get along with each other.”
“Okay,” Kate said sheepishly, unable to stop the guilt from seeping out in her expression. Judith knew her too well. “We’ll become the best of buddies.”
“Good. Now that it’s finally settled, let’s enjoy the show. Come on. We’re causing a scene.” Judith grabbed Kate’s hand and pulled her to the next exhibit.
~
“You what?” Paul shouted into the phone late Wednesday night. How could she?
“I told Kate she could ride with us to Tahoe,” she repeated. Unfortunately, before hitting a bulls-eye with that news, she’d fired an earlier round—this one reiterating they were only going as friends.
Nothing new, there! It was all too much. “Why would you promise something like that without talking to me first? Especially when you know she irritates the hell out of me?”
“It’s only a ride,” she stated in an exasperated tone. “You know it’s only for a couple of hours.”
Which was a couple of hours too many for his liking when he’d planned to share the time with Judith. Alone. Paul rubbed his neck and sighed, thankful she hadn’t canceled outright—his first thought upon answering her call.
For as long as he’d known her, Judith kept up a wall around her heart and never let him get too close, even going so far as to define their relationship as friendship. To him, she was more than a friend—always had been—from the moment ten-year-old Paul first caught a glimpse of the shy girl on his neighborhood swim team. He’d been smitten ever since.
Like Judith, Paul had been shy, much too shy to approach her, but he never tired of just being around her during those many summers of daily swim practice. He watched as she matured over that decade, and was reminded of a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. Like all beautiful butterflies, she had a fragility about her, a fragility that brought out his protective side. Quiet and introverted, she rarely spoke unless she felt totally comfortable in the situation.
That aspect never changed even after he came out of his shell in high school. Yet, when he observed her at that point, he noticed something new. She missed nothing in her world; she just chose not to engage in it. This intrigued him, and over time she became a challenge. He wanted to be the one to break through the thin barrier she presented to the world, and he wanted her to love him, as he’d always loved her.
During most of his teens, Judith had no clue he even existed. Despite that, she’d always been close to him, in his mind and heart, and for too many years Paul had kept his feelings secret.
“I don’t get it,” she asked, yanking him back to the present. “What is it with you two?”
“Nothing, I just don’t like her.”
“Why? She’s never done anything to you to deserve such treatment and, according to Kate, you’re always on her case. I’ve never understood why.”
“She’s always chasing after James, and never picks up on the truth. It’s not going to happen with him.”
“But, Paul, that’s her business—it’s between her and James.”
“I know. It just makes me mad to watch.”
“Aren’t you being judgmental?”
“Maybe, but it’s how I see it.” A slight edge of guilt slipped into his consciousness and he couldn’t ignore the niggling voice that told him she had a point. What was worse, his opinionated apple didn’t fall far from the tree. But he didn’t want to think about that.
“Well, you’re both acting like children. It’s very immature and tiring to deal with. Now promise me she can go with us and you’ll be nice to her.”
“God, why do I let you talk me into these things?” he asked, realizing he was fighting a losing battle.
Paul could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Because you’re a really nice guy underneath all that sarcasm and wit.”
“Yeah?” The edges of his lips curled as he let out a long, slow breath. “Well, don’t let anyone in on the secret. It’ll spoil the effect.” Knowing he’d lost, he surrendered good-naturedly. “Okay, tell her to be ready by two. I’ll pick you up fifteen minutes later. I want to get out of the city before traffic hits. I’ll be in my office at five thirty and working up until then to get in a full day.”
“Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”
Paul said good-bye and hung up, not at all happy about the turn of events. Being in love with that particular woman sucked at times. Judith expected people to be better than they were, it was something he’d always admired about her. She demanded his best and he usually rose to meet those expectations. He couldn’t stomach the idea of disappointing her and truly appreciated being considered worthy of her esteem. But the fact that he now had to endure an extended car ride with Kate along because she required it of him, chafed.
At least she hadn’t canceled. Paul chose to focus on the one bright spot in this whole mess, rather than dwell on her insistence of their maintaining a friendly relationship.
He sighed, fought to push the memories aside, and grabbed the remote. The TV burst to life, as his thoughts strayed back to the woman he’d spent a lifetime loving, rather than on the show in front of him.
In college, Paul decided to make his feelings known and steadfastly pursued Judith. Over time, their friendship grew and he came to love the real Judith, not just the idea of her in his mind. Yet, she continually resisted his every attempt at intimacy, saying she loved him as a friend. At that point, he’d backed off and dated others. Hell, he had to because Judith expected it of him. But no one really interested him enough to change his mind about her, especially since she’d never shown interest in dating anyone and always made time for him.
All this time he’d respected her wishes, figuring she just wasn’t ready for a committed relationship. He could wait a little longer. Why give up now when she’d finally relocated to the city? Judith was the one who made the comment about settling down and having kids, even warming to the idea of a stronger relationship…he had simply followed up on it. But he realized too late he’d moved too fast. He should have held off a bit before mentioning marriage.
He prayed this weekend would bring him closer to his goal of having Judith realize they were meant to be more than friends.
The only damper was spending time with Kate. Paul’s thoughts then shifted to the irritating woman. He snorted! How in the world had he gotten himself into this mess? He needed a drink.
“God help me, I need the whole damned bottle to deal with her,” he muttered. Why did relationships have to be so difficult?
He padded to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine and wondered why his aversion to the woman was so intense. She always rubbed him the wrong way, like sandpaper over an open blister, right from the first moment he met her. He usually ignored people like that, but Paul found he could never ignore Kate, especially when he saw her with James. At those times, he always had a sarcastic comment for her, which was also something Judith gave him a hard time about.
He sighed and took a hefty swig of wine, working to drown his misery. Nothing about the weekend was going as expected. He grabbed the bottle, retrace
d his steps to the living room, and plopped onto the sofa.
His gaze circled the living room, a room that cost a month’s salary to redo after he’d hired a decorator in hopes of impressing the woman he loved…and she hadn’t even seen it yet.
He shot back another large mouthful of Murphy Goode without tasting the unusual nuances in his favorite chardonnay. His expensive surroundings felt empty without someone to share it with.
Deciding to view Judith’s news as a small setback, he dismissed all negative thoughts from his mind and reached for the latest business prospectus he’d been reading. His attention drifted to it while the television blared in the background—a filler noise keeping him company.
Chapter 3
Paul rang Kate’s buzzer promptly at one fifty-five the next afternoon.
Her voice shot through the intercom. “I’ll be right down.”
“Hurry,” he replied. “I’m ready to get on the road and we still need to pick up Judith.”
“You’re five minutes early, so cool it, bucko.”
He chuckled and bantered back to the box, “Judith said you were supposed to be nice to me.”
Moments later, she came into view through the glass door. His grin widened to see such a short dynamo bogged down with skis, poles, and boots, along with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder that kept hitting her hip as she walked.
He wanted to rush to help, remembering the feel his mother’s flick on his ear when he didn’t jump fast enough to be courteous to a woman in need. Unfortunately, he was stuck on the other side of the locked door.
She had on snug jeans and a tight sweater that hugged her compact body underneath an open ski parka. The bulky jacket did little to hide her curves. Curves in all the right places that any male who wasn’t dead couldn’t fail to notice. And he noticed. He’d always thought she was put together well.
Kate made it to the entrance, dropped the boots, and leaned the skis up against the wall. Now having a free hand to open the heavy door, she pulled it at the same time Paul pushed, which almost knocked her down.
Oops, he thought, letting go and stepping back, only to realize the doorknob she held almost jerked out of her hand as the door started to slam shut.
“Sorry, I was trying to help,” he said, halting it in the nick of time with his foot.
“Wait, take these.” Kate pushed the door open wider and held it with that sexy tush, then reached in for her skis and handed them to him, following suit with the boots.
Carrying them with ease, Paul headed toward his car. He opened the trunk, dropped the boots inside, then turned and undid the straps to the ski rack. Kate walked up beside him as he lifted the skis to the top of the car, fastening them into place along with her poles.
Paul glanced down and, seeing the bag she still held, grabbed it and placed it next to the boots.
He closed the lid. “Is that it?”
She nodded.
“Let’s get this show on the road. We’re burning daylight.” He moved to open the passenger door and bowed. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”
“Thanks, but don’t you think you’re overdoing it a bit?” She took off her jacket, laid it in the backseat, then slipped into the car.
“Just following orders,” Paul said, before closing her door and running around to the driver’s side. Seconds later, the BMW shot off into traffic.
“I didn’t know you could afford such a sleek car.” Kate’s eyebrows rose as she glanced around at the car’s interior. “Still smells new.”
“I’ve had it a few months,” Paul murmured, sensing her first comment was somehow meant as a put-down, but refusing to take it as one. He shrugged. “It gets me where I want to go.”
“All cars do that, but one like this does it in style.” Her tone held a touch of admiration and she ran a hand along the leather. “Who knew you had it in you?” She sat back, and said under her breath but loud enough for him to hear, “This might not be so bad. At least the ride’ll be smooth.”
Rather than annoy him, as it once would have, her comment only pleased him. He couldn’t figure out why, so he stayed silent, mentally agreeing with her. This may not be so bad. She likes my car. He slowed for a red light as his phone beeped with an incoming text. After coming to a complete stop, he checked to see if it was important.
“It’s a message from Judith,” he said, glancing at Kate. He brought up the text screen and read the message. “There’s a problem with one of her projects and she’s stuck at the work site.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head and handed her the phone. “I wish I was.” The light changed, and he drove until he spotted a place to park while she read the message.
Her face scrunched up in dismay. “Damn. What do we do now?”
He sighed. “Let me call her and see what’s up.”
Judith answered right away and said, “I’m really sorry.”
“No problem. We can wait,” he said, glancing at Kate, who nodded. “What time do you think you’ll be done?”
“This glitch is snowballing and I may end up working the weekend.”
“The whole weekend?”
“At this point, I can’t say.” She hesitated. “I know you were looking forward to skiing. No sense spoiling your plans for tomorrow. If I can break away, I will, but for now, I have no choice but to take care of business. Tell Kate I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. We understand,” he said, as disappointment welled up inside him. Her news didn’t surprise him. Hadn’t he expected something like this all along? If he waited until tomorrow, she’d probably find another excuse and the excuses were starting to get to him. He had no idea what she was afraid of, but until she was ready to face her demons, there was nothing he could do to change things. Sometimes the futility of his situation got to him. They said their good-byes amidst more of her apologies. He hung up with thoughts about turning around and canceling the weekend. But he’d already planned it and probably wouldn’t see Judith for days, judging from her phone conversation. At least if he were skiing, he’d be doing something that would take his mind off his anger at Judith, even if it meant spending time with Kate.
“Well?” Kate asked. “What’s going on?”
Paul filled her in on his conversation with Judith, and ended with, “I’m still heading up to Tahoe. You’re welcome to come along, but I’ll understand if you’d rather not.”
“I’m here now and tomorrow does promise to be a decent day.” She sighed and offered a smile. “If you’re willing to take me, I’m willing to keep going.”
He nodded and pulled away from the curb, making a U-turn.
Neither spoke as they drove out of the city.
Paul kept his focus on the road, but every once in a while he’d glance at Kate. She ignored him, had dragged out her smartphone, in fact. On his last peek, she was absorbed in playing a game, at which point he turned on the radio.
Twenty minutes later, Kate sighed heavily and stuck her phone back in her pocket. “Look, I hate our not talking.”
Paul chanced a brief glance. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, are we going to just sit here for the next three hours and not say anything?” She crossed her arms. “Shouldn’t we at least attempt to amuse ourselves with something besides listening to music or playing Angry Birds?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Sounds interesting.” He shrugged. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Road games.”
“Road games?”
“Yeah, you know.” She nodded. “Like Truth or Dare.”
“Dream on,” he said in a grunt of disapproval.
Kate grinned. “Okay, not into telling secrets? Then what about Twenty Questions?”
When he looked over at her, his gaze narrowing, she snorted. “What? You’ve never played Twenty Questions when you went on road trips while growing up?”
Smiling, he shook his head.
“You’re kidding?”
; “We never took any road trips,” he explained, his smile widening. “We always flew.”
“Really?” Her eyes grew rounder. “I never knew that.”
His hand went to his chest like he was clutching his heart. “You mean there’s something you don’t know about James’ childhood?”
“The subject never came up.” She turned to regard the scenery out the passenger window, and tried to act as if his revelation hadn’t bothered her.
But he could tell it had.
Finally, she faced him again. “I don’t know. Somehow, it seems un-American to never take road trips.”
“Why?” He gave her a curious stare. “Because my parents weren’t the type to drive to the Grand Canyon?”
She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean that as an insult.” Averting her gaze, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
He chuckled, enjoying her discomfort as well as the blush creeping across her cheeks. “I’m amused, not insulted.”
“Oh?” She glanced back at him with questioning eyes.
“Yeah! You’re assuming I missed out on something.”
“No, I’m not,” she denied too quickly, shaking her head. “I know you had a privileged childhood.” Her gaze shifted to the window again.
“Then why is flying on vacations un-American?” He eyed her briefly before letting his attention go back to the road. “Admit it. You think I missed something. I hear it in your voice.”
“Not really.” She sighed. “It’s just that I didn’t think there was anyone out there who didn’t drive somewhere on trips.” She broke off. After a long pause, she nodded. “Okay, maybe I do feel you lost out. Some of my best experiences with my family were on road trips.” She uncrossed her legs and stretched them out. “Maybe it’s a midwestern thing. I mean, there are several cities within a five-hour drive from Chicago. My sister and I especially loved long weekends—or three-day adventures, as my dad called them.”
“Let me assure you,” he said with a self-satisfied smile, “that despite being a Californian whose dad rarely took long weekends, I don’t feel I missed out on anything. James and I had a damn good upbringing.”