Second Thoughts

by O'Keefe, Bobbie

  “I’m glad you’re sticking around. Chris is ecstatic he’s got both you and his dad. He told me you’re going to that new Sears today, to check out their sports department. Sounds manly.”

  His grin deepened. “Now who’s being sexist?” He stood and dusted his hands together. “I still have another week of vacation, and I figured I’d spend it here mending fences.”

  “I doubt that’ll be a problem.” She looked at her suitcase, then back up. “I’ve always respected Kevin, now even more so. It took an extraordinary person to do what he did.”

  “I’m very much aware of that.” Slowly he crossed the room. “I was planning on calling you next week, but I’ll just talk to you now instead. There’s a charity benefit coming up this summer that I promised to attend. And I need a date.”

  She said nothing. He’d stopped a full arm’s length away, giving her plenty of space. And Kristy was also giving them ample room, Connie noted.

  “You could spend the weekend,” Derek added, but not crowding her with the invitation. Instead, she got the impression he was deliberately holding back, giving her time and room and anything else she might want. “You’d have your own bedroom, of course, but I don’t want to rush you. If you’re not comfortable with that arrangement, there’s an excellent hotel near by.”

  Here we go, she thought. Did she really want to do this? Did she honestly not want to? She swallowed hard. “Sounds like this could be a first date, except it’s the second time around.” Even her voice sounded shy.

  His mouth curved. “Both comments fit.” Then he grew quiet and his face smoothed out. She’d never before seen him hold himself in check like that.

  Finally she spoke again. “We have to move slowly.” Her voice was very quiet and very serious. “Very slowly.”

  He broke into another grin, this one wide and relieved. He was a good-looking man, but when he smiled, his face was transformed into matinee-idol handsomeness. “You can move as slowly as you want to. As long as we’re moving, we’re making progress.”

  He stepped closer, then leaned in to lightly, very lightly, brush his lips across hers. As kisses go, this was as chaste as one could get. Their lips barely lingered long enough to make contact, but the contact carried a jolt of electricity.

  Chapter SeventeenImpatiently, Connie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. This was the third time she’d sat through this red light. She wanted to use an ATM before getting on the freeway to start her trip home, preferably at a branch of her own bank, but empty parking spaces were nonexistent. This time she stayed on the thoroughfare instead of turning onto her bank’s street. She’d hit the first ATM she saw with a parking place anywhere near it.

  Two blocks later, she found a bank, a space for the car, and a line at the ATM. Idly, she glanced at the window. The inside of the bank appeared as busy as the outside. At the desk nearest the window, an elderly man was concluding his business. The man behind the desk stood, they shook hands, and the elderly customer exited the building.

  Connie stepped inside and took the seat the man had vacated. The name plaque on the desk identified the bank representative as Raymond L. Tidwell, Investment Counselor.

  Mr. Tidwell looked up. The automatic smile disappeared. “Uh-oh.”

  Connie smiled. “Hi, Moose.”

  His sigh was deep and drawn out. “Hello, Aunt Connie.”

  The woman seated behind the next desk glanced at them. Her chestnut hair held a touch of gray, her nails were a bright blood red, and her pale green dress fit like a glove, which unfortunately emphasized the ten or so extra pounds she carried. “Aunt Connie? You’ve got to be kidding. She’s at least ten years younger than you.” Her voice carried the lilting trace of a southern accent.

  Her nameplate identified her as Darlene Marsh, Assistant Manager. Darlene wasn’t exactly possessive toward Moose, but there was something about her appraisal of Connie that suggested a relationship—or the wish for one—with Raymond Tidwell.

  Connie tried to make herself look romantically harmless. “I’m not really his aunt, but it is a family endearment. We met through my niece and nephews.”

  Apparently finding nothing in Connie’s manner to be concerned about, Darlene gave the smile back, then returned her attention to the file on her desk.

  Connie settled comfortably in the chair, returned her attention to Moose, and gave him what she supposed was a wicked grin. He wore a steel gray suit and a deep blue shirt set off by a pinstriped tie, quite a difference from the casual jeans and shirts of the farmhouse. Purposely and sweetly, she used his own pet phrase. “My, my. It just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

  He said nothing. He resembled a man awaiting sentence.

  She checked her watch. “When do they let you out for lunch?”

  “Now,” Darlene said, looking up. “His lunch break started just this instant.”

  “Great.” Connie pushed her chair back and stood. “Perfect timing.”

  “Uh,” Moose said.

  Darlene waved him away. “Get out of here, Ray. Go treat your aunt to lunch.” She critically eyed Connie’s snug navy slacks. “Buy her something fattening.”

  * * *

  “They’ve had two days,” Connie said, picking at the limp plate of lettuce that had been described as a salad. “So I hope they’re long gone.”

  Without comment, Moose took another bite out of his giant, juicy hamburger. He hadn’t livened up a whole lot but had managed two whole sentences. “Just a salad? You’ll never find a better hamburger than they make here.”

  Her fork didn’t find anything it wanted to attach itself to. Their hamburgers might be okay, but their salads left much to be desired. “You know where they are, don’t you?”

  “Why are you asking? Are you in need of a pen pal?”

  She pushed her plate away and eyed his basket of fries. “Just curious, I guess.” The hamburger didn’t turn her on, but the curly fries looked delicious. “But just in case Hayworth changes his mind or somehow someone could get that book away from him, you’d be able to then get it to Max. Right?”

  “No comment to the second part. And to the first part, the only way that book could be recovered from Hayworth is by stealing it back. Forget it, Aunt Connie.”

  That was the longest speech so far, and he’d demolished the hamburger. Apparently, the food had fueled his communicational skills. He took a long swig of Coke, then wiped his hands on the flimsy napkin. It was a tiny one, considering those big hands and all the hamburger juice on them.

  She hadn’t needed her napkin, so pushed it his way. She pointed at the fries he hadn’t touched. “May I?”

  Obligingly he pushed the basket toward her. “Darlene says go ahead.”

  She tasted one. “Umm. They are good.” She settled in for a feast, meaning that she now needed a napkin. Rubbing the salty grease between thumb and fingers, she looked for a dispenser. He helped himself to fresh napkins on a nearby table and passed them to her.

  “Thanks. Are you and Darlene…uh—”

  “That’s none of your business, Aunt Connie.”

  “Of course it’s not.” She ate another French fry. “Can she cook?”

  He grinned. Lunch had done him a world of good. “I hope so.”

  “You hope so?” She watched him as she munched. “How long is it going to take you to get yourself invited to dinner? You’re bound to cook better together than you do on your own. It’d be…less lonely.”

  He gave her a careful look, as if wondering how to interpret that statement. Blandly she stared back. He glanced away, and his face appeared strained with the effort of keeping it straight. “Aunt Connie,” he said, as if scolding a child.

  She finished the fries and drained her glass of water. If she’d known she was having French fries for lunch, she would’ve ordered a Coke to go with them. “Just as a matter of curiosity—”

  “You’ve got a lot of that, I notice.”

  “Why did you and Max rob the convenience
store in the first place? Why not just go to Hayworth’s house, steal the book back and be done with it?”

  “That would’ve pointed the finger directly and immediately at Max. We’d hoped to work behind the scenes to influence Hayworth, show him what we were capable of, and ultimately force him to hand over the book in self-defense.”

  “Your plan didn’t work very well.”

  His slow grin turned into a deep chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a flair for understatement?”

  “Actually, yes. So I take it that Hayworth keeps the book at home?”

  He shrugged, appearing tired of the whole thing. “Yeah, but so did Max. If it were mine, I’d put it in a safe deposit box. Max kept it in a drawer, in a plastic bag. At least Hayworth keeps it in a safe.” Then he frowned, exhibiting his lack of respect for lackadaisical security measures. “But it’s a cheap combination kind that even I could probably break into.”

  Connie had been rotating her water glass, making wet circles on the Formica tabletop. She looked up. “Oh, yeah? You’re full of surprises. You’ve had experience in such things?”

  “No. But I used to have a drinking buddy who did. He told me how to play with the dial until the thing itself gives you the combination.”

  The circles from Connie’s water glass were growing larger. She studied the emerging pattern. “Could you tell me how to do that?”

  After a long silence, she looked up to find Moose watching her steadily with a notable lack of expression.

  “Wow,” he said. “Do I ever have a big mouth.” He worked his way out of the booth and stood. “And a small brain.”

  She stood also. “Wait a minute. I just—”

  “I’m going back to work, Aunt Connie. You go home.”

  “What are you thinking? You’re jumping to conclusions. For crying out loud—”

  Moose took hold of her arms. He was more than a foot taller, and she felt like a small child. He said, sounding like a stern parent, “It’s not what I’m thinking, it’s what you’re thinking. Now you stop it right now. I warn you, Aunt Connie, I’ll call your brother-in-law if I have to.”

  Her gaze jerked away as her eye caught people entering the restaurant behind him. “Speaking of whom,” she said in an undertone.

  He froze. Then his eyes closed, his hands dropped, and his head hung. “You’re kidding.” He looked like a timid bear in a business suit.

  “I wish I were.”

  She was amazed at her stupidity. Chris had told her they were going to the new Sears today, and it was right next door. He and his dad and uncle now stood at the counter, waiting to order their meal, right in front of the only door leading outside.

  Well, there was one more exit, two steps away from her. It was clearly marked, in big red letters: Emergency exit. Alarm will sound. The situation was dire enough she gave that door an instant’s thought, but the second sentence talked her out of it.

  Her gaze darted back to the three people at the counter. They hadn’t looked this way yet, but that run of luck wouldn’t hold much longer. Her mind continued to race, arranging plans, discarding plans, and then she sucked in her breath and held it.

  “Go. Now. Right now. Chris has his back turned, drawing a Coke. Derek will see you, but he won’t jump up and down and point at you.”

  Moose didn’t move. Connie shoved. “Go!” she commanded in a loud whisper.

  He turned and went. With his eyes cast down at the floor, he looked as guilty as any man could look. Connie shook her head. That man was not a good actor.

  Fortunately, Chris was having difficulty with the machine’s mechanism and Kevin moved to help him. Derek caught sight of Moose. His eyes flickered for an instant, but that was it. Moose got through the door without calling undue attention to himself, and Connie started breathing again.

  Then Derek’s eyes found her, and she realized she’d relaxed too soon. His face registered surprise, suspicion, and then downright anger. He wasted no time getting to her. “What’s going on?”

  She stared silently back.

  “This better not have anything to do with that comic book.”

  There was no suitable answer. She couldn’t even find an evasive one.

  “Connie, dammit, what are you up to? Talk to me.”

  “Annie Connie!” Chris almost bowled her over. Clearly he liked his aunt as much as he liked his uncle. Smiling, she knelt and returned his hug.

  She looked up. “Hi, Kevin.” She straightened but wouldn’t meet Derek’s eyes.

  “You left almost two hours ago,” Kevin said. “You should be long gone by now. Did you have car trouble?”

  Too bad it wasn’t that simple. “No. I ran into…an old friend. And we had lunch. He just left.”

  Kevin glanced at his brother. He probably thought that explained the dark look. He and Chris sat at the next table to await their food order. “No napkins?” He looked annoyed. A passing busboy stole napkins from another table, handed them over, and Kevin nodded his thanks.

  “Well,” Connie said, as she retrieved her purse from the booth. “I have a long drive—”

  Derek took her hand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “That’s not necessary. Your lunch is coming and your food will get cold.” She tried to pull her hand free, but he held fast.

  “Lunch is not the problem,” he muttered. He led the way outside, pulling her with him. Having little choice, she stopped arguing and fell in step. Three teenaged girls at a front table gave him a once-over as he passed, but they didn’t seem to recognize him; it was more of a hmm look. He wore a straight-hemmed shirt in emerald green over black trousers, and he’d always stood out in a crowd without even trying. One of the girls caught Connie’s eye, gave her an apologetic smile, and then lowered her gaze. As she was dragged along in his wake, Connie wanted to shout You can have him.

  He led her to a corner table with plenty of privacy, then stared at her until she sat down. A wind had sprung up, and only a few people were eating outside. He sat down across from her and then just watched her, saying nothing. She matched his stare and his silence and finally decided at least one of them should act like a grownup.

  She managed a smile. “I hope you ordered French fries. They’re good.”

  He didn’t smile back. He folded his arms.

  Her smile disappeared. “I don’t like it when you do this, Derek. I never liked it.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “Steamroller O’Reilly, at it again.” She figured her eyes were snapping at him, just like her voice. “And then you act like a misunderstood innocent. That is one thing—two things—I have not missed these past two years.”

  Trying to hold on to her temper, she stared at a lemon tree in a square planter box, then wondered why she was trying to hold her temper. Her gaze shot back. “You are the most irritating, have-to-be-in-control man I’ve ever known. How I stayed married to you for four years, I’ll never know.”

  “And you are the most irritating, stubborn woman I know. Those four years weren’t exactly the most peaceful of my life. Now are you going to tell me what you’re up to or not?”

  “Not. I am my own boss, Derek. I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you a damned thing!”

  Their gazes locked. From the look of him, he was working hard at holding on to his own temper. It was a long standoff, which he broke. With a heavy exhale, he looked at the sky. “And I’m not going to learn a damned thing this way, am I.”

  It wasn’t even a question. He already knew the answer. She sat back, nodded. “Well. You may be slow, but you get there.”

  “Okay.” He placed his hands palms down on the table, peered at them for the space of a long inhale and exhale, then looked at her. “Will you please give me an explanation of your meeting with Moose, as innocent or lacking in innocence as it may be, even though you don’t owe it to me?”

  She waited a beat but could think of no reason to continue holding out on him, so she shrugged. “I ran into
Moose. By accident. We had lunch, we talked, and he left.”

  “What did you talk about? Did Max and the comic book come up?”

  “Of course they did.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. Stop it, Derek. You’re doing it again.”

  “Would you prefer to go back inside and talk to Kevin instead of me?”

  When she jerked to her feet, he did also, and she gave him a look that she hoped carried the steel she felt. “You take hold of my hand again, O’Reilly, and I promise you that I will make a loud and ugly scene.”

  Kevin and Chris appeared, carrying trays of foil-wrapped burgers, Cokes, and baskets of fries. They had father and son written all over them, from their tennis shoes to their tie-dyed tees in purple and blue. They set their burden on the table and took chairs. The battling pair remained standing.

  “From the look of things,” Kevin said mildly to his son, “we arrived just in time, partner.” He unwrapped his hamburger.

  Connie waited a long moment, but then finally she sat down, not wanting to pursue a fight in front of her nephew. Bickering was one thing; full-fledged warfare was another. Derek followed suit, but he was smart enough not to look victorious.

  Kevin had included a Coke for Connie. She sipped it and shared Christopher’s fries, while he explained his log-crossing technique to his dad with excited, disjointed phrases. As she listened, her mood eased. When she finished the Coke, she saw that Derek was through with his lunch, so she invited him to walk her to her car. If he was going to do it anyway, she figured it might as well be her idea. He appeared surprised, but Kevin looked smug, and Connie’s ire again rose. She would dearly love to rub that pleased expression off her ex-brother-in-law’s face.

  “Take your time,” Kevin told his brother. “Chris and I will head on into Sears. You know where to find us.”

  “I get a new fishing pole, Annie Connie.”

  She found a smile for Chris. “Wow, aren’t you lucky.” But she couldn’t help wondering why, since he didn’t like fishing.

  She and Derek walked silently until they were out of sight and earshot. Then she said, in the kind of droning tone that a student who’d been called upon to recite boring facts might use, “Yes, the subject of the comic book came up. Hayworth keeps it at home, in a flimsy safe with an even flimsier combination lock. And I ran into Moose by accident, like I said. He works in that bank, right over there.” She pointed. “His name is Ray Tidwell. And he’s got a crush on someone named Darlene, and she’s got an even bigger crush on him. Now is there anything else you want to know?”