Guess Mom’s right. I don’t want to turn into a stereotypical bachelor, but I think I already am one.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Attempting to ignore Mark became an exercise in futility. For days, no matter what tactic she tried, Julie couldn’t get back to their previous distant relationship, or anything close to it. Tonight he left when she did, and carried her bags for her again. She pushed down the thrill that tingled along her skin when their fingers touched. She drew in a deep breath.
His voice lowered as they strolled down the sidewalk. “So, how’s Kevin doing? And Casey and Sheila?”
Glad of the chance for conversation to distract her from his nearness, she answered, “I found out what happened with the pills. Kevin wanted to stop drinking for his leg pain, so he took the pain medicine. But it wasn’t helping much when he had a rough day on Friday, so he took extras. Then he thought he’d have beer, too, to cut more of the pain. He passed out after he drank a few.”
Silence followed with the sound of their footsteps echoing against the front of the houses along their way. Images of finding Kevin unconscious flashed in her mind. Thank God he was mending now.
Mark shifted the bags a bit and crinkled his brow. “Isn’t there a stronger medication he could take?”
“He says he can’t do his job then, because the side effects drag him out or make him sick. So, he takes aspirin at work, and drinks when he gets home so he can sleep.”
“Why doesn’t he keep doing that, if it works?”
Julie sighed and glanced at his serious expression. He really cared. Warmth bloomed through her middle, bringing frustration in its wake. She needed to tone down her reactions to him. “He thought Sheila might move back if he stopped drinking.”
“Wow.” Mark gazed upward and blew out some air. “Poor guy. Does she love him as much as he loves her?”
“I wasn’t sure before, but the way she’s been with him since this happened…she looks at him the way she used to.”
Mark shot her a searching expression she couldn’t read then cleared his throat. “That’s good to hear. And Casey? How’s he doing?”
Julie giggled. “Great. He keeps bringing up fun times they all had in the past. He’d make a wonderful salesman.”
Mark’s head tipped back in a hearty laugh. “I can see him succeeding at that. He’s got a winning personality, that kid.”
They stopped in front of her porch. He handed her the bags and spoke in a soft voice. “Goodnight, Julie.”
It hurt to view his open expression, the obvious caring in his eyes. She kept her voice airy. “”Night, and thanks.” She scurried inside without a backward glance.
* * *
Mark stared after her. Why did she suddenly act uncomfortable and rush indoors? Did it bother her that Sheila and Kevin might reconcile? The thought caused a twist in his chest. No, she’d appeared happy about Sheila’s renewed affections. What a puzzle Julie was. Would he ever understand her? He pondered the question all the way home.
Late afternoon the following day, he walked out of the cooler, a pan of steaks in hand. Mr. Barlow trooped in the back door, followed by his son. Mark hadn’t seen Mickey here in years. The fellow was filled out and taller since he started college. He’d turned into quite a handsome man, with his brown eyes, dark eyebrows, and blond hair.
He exchanged a greeting with him, and Chris gave him a once-over. “You play football in college, Mickey?”
Mickey flashed an amiable smile. “No, but I go to some of the games.”
Mr. Barlow stepped to Julie’s station. “Julie, say hello to my son, Mickey.”
“I’m mighty pleased to meet you, Julie.” Mickey held a hand out to her, his eyes taking her in. Mark suppressed a scowl.
She stopped shredding lettuce and wiped her hands on a towel before she shook his hand. “Same here.”
“Do you have time to talk with me?”
She scanned her station. “I’d say about ten minutes or so.”
Mr. Barlow said, “Go ahead into the office. I’ll pick out a table for us.”
Mark stared after Julie and Mickey. What would Mickey want to speak with her about? And why was his manner so odd, as though he was honored to meet her? Neither Mickey nor Mr. Barlow ever treated any of the help that way.
Julie’s delighted laughter sounded more than once through the closed door. Mark hated his reaction to it. Jealousy hadn’t stabbed him with its sharp sword since he was nineteen, when he watched his ex-girlfriend giggle and smooch with a new guy only three days after dumping him. He’d almost thrown up from the pain it caused. Even now, the remembered image sparked an echo of discomfort.
No. He stared down at the task in front of him and closed off his feelings. Get busy.
Julie and Mickey emerged, congenial as if they were old friends. Mark tried not to glare at Mickey and took in a deep breath.
Mickey said, “I’m joining Dad out there for dinner. Come sit with us when you get a chance.”
Mark cast a surprised glance at her. The pleased expression on her face made something in his gut twist. She certainly acted interested in Mickey, her demeanor accessible, happy to talk with him. What the heck was going on? Maybe she didn’t still love Kevin. What an infuriating puzzle she presented.
His work performance slipped and he almost made a few mistakes in timing. The steaks ordered by the Barlows came close to getting overdone, but he got hold of his focus in time. He needed to stop stressing about Julie. She brought the Barlow’s dessert choices out herself after the dinner orders were completed. Her laughter sailed back to the kitchen and started his emotions on a low simmer.
He’d ignore it. Concentrate on cleanup, talk to Chris. “Hey, Chris, you still planning on hosting your whole family for Thanksgiving?”
Chris nodded, face red from his vigorous scrubbing around the stove burners. “Oh, you bet. I want to dazzle my parents and in-laws with my cooking talents.”
Mark chuckled at his playful tone and turned from the sink. “And shock them with the way the kitchen looks when you’re done?”
“Ha-ha. My mother cooks the same way. Besides, Aileen said she’d help me and clean behind me, as she puts it.”
“She’s a nice girl.” He swallowed down frustration at his hectic emotions. First jealousy swelled at Julie and Mickey, now twinges of envy over Chris and his happy marriage. He needed to finish cleaning and get home where things made sense.
“She sure is. You know, you should stop over after dinner while everyone’s still there watching football. Say hello to her sister, Sharon. She thinks you’re cute.”
Mark turned back to the sink. “And she’s too young for me. She’s still in college.”
“So? She’s only about ten years younger than you.”
“Forget it. I don’t have much in common with women my own age, much less a college girl.”
Chris hooted. “Maybe you’re too juvenile for them, and a younger girl would be just right.”
Mark flashed him a good-natured glower. “Thanks a heap, pal.”
He smiled at Chris’s rumbling laugh. Julie showed up and started cleaning her station.
Mickey followed a few minutes later. “Great meal, folks.”
“Thanks,” Chris said. Mark gave him a quick nod and continued washing greasy pans, a cloud of steam from the scalding rinse water swirling around his head.
His discomfort grew as Mickey and Julie bantered while she worked. He caught snippets of their plans over the sounds of his scrubbing, rinsing, and stacking. Apparently he’d meet her later. At the bakery? Is that what he heard? Their first date would be dumpster diving together? He must’ve misheard.
Mickey left soon after. Mark finished his tasks, taking extra time until everyone but Julie went home. He’d wait and help her with the bags again. He wiped down the sink area and turned as Julie passed by. She slid a little on a wet spot on the floor, and his hands shot out to steady her. Both her arms went up as though to fend him off.
“I
’m okay,” she said and hustled into the cooler.
Her reaction signaled an obvious disgust at the prospect of him touching her. But last week at the hospital, she hadn’t pulled away from his guiding hand when they left Kevin’s room. Cold anger set his jaw and he thrust on his coat and exited. Fast. Without the usual farewell.
While the car warmed, frustration fueled his disgruntled thoughts. One meeting with Mickey, and her recent warmth toward him turned back to disdain again. Disheartening to realize she was fickle, and looked down on him, plain and simple. But why shouldn’t he look down on her? Someone who pines after a married man, then sucks up to the boss’s son? She might be a thief, too.
So much for her so-called spirituality and serious ideas. He’d never go after a married woman, or brown-nose the boss or his family. Or take containers or food from work, either. And picking through trash? He’d rather donate money to a pantry to buy decent food than give hungry people stuff out of garbage bags.
The self-justifications lifted his deflated spirit. He shouldn’t have let himself like her in the first place. What was he thinking? They were nothing alike, anyway, so it would never go anywhere. He’d almost convinced himself when she issued from the restaurant, bags in hand. She sang something as she walked along, the wind teasing hair out from under her knitted cap. The sight of her blew away his ugly thoughts. Who was he kidding?
He had a problem.
* * *
Julie sang “His Eye is on the Sparrow” while she sailed home, delighting in the crisp air after long hours in the humid kitchen. Pumpkins arrayed on stoops signaled the approach of Halloween. Soon they’d be carved or painted. She preferred seeing painted ones, because then someone might make use of the nutritious seeds and flesh of the pumpkin, rather than carving it and letting it rot.
People laughed at her for being overly serious, but one sight of a hungry child should make anyone take food issues seriously. She couldn’t figure out why it didn’t for some people. Tonight she ignored the pumpkin-inspired concerns. Her heart sang. Mickey came up with such good ideas, and showed a lot of enthusiasm. And he and Rick would both be at the bakery later to talk with Zach and Jade. More help. The thing she’d prayed for during many a night.
Thank you, God. So much.
Thoughts of Mark dampened her high spirits. Noticing him was affecting her at work now. Even while cleaning her station and making plans with Mickey, her eyes kept straying to him while he washed pans at the sink. With his chef’s coat off, and working over the steaming water, the fabric of his t-shirt clung to the moving muscles of his back and shoulders.
Tendrils of dark hair curled on the back of his neck, and made her fingers want to lace into them. She must cool this attraction down. She’d gotten so jumpy from watching him, when he tried to steady her near the sink, she’d recoiled from him. If he’d touched her, she didn’t trust herself not to swoon into him. What an idiot she’d become. And it grew worse every day.
While she did the pre-bakery tasks in her kitchen, her mind stayed focused on Mark. It occurred to her that he’d probably laugh at her and make jokes about it if he could see her emotions concerning him. The thought stung her out of reveling in images of him. She shouldn’t let herself forget how casual he was. Okay, so he possessed some good qualities, but he wasn’t her type, and she wasn’t his. If Mickey or Rick were about five years older, she’d wish to be attracted to one of them. They shared her concerns. Why on earth did she react to Mark this way?
She considered asking God to remove her inclinations, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Besides, wasn’t it her problem to solve anyway? The emotions were too compelling right now, too tempting. She didn’t want to stop feeling them. What a mess.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Julie listened to the avid conversation between Mickey, Rick, Jade and Zach, chiming in now and then. When she noticed Wally’s absence for a second night she elbowed Jade and asked, “Where’s Wally?”
“Monica’s sick in bed the last few days. I told him I’d bring some stuff over later.”
“Let me do it, okay? I’ve wanted to visit them, anyway. I’ll pack some of the soup I brought, and check for garlic bagels.”
They grinned at each other, and Julie stooped to sift through tonight’s offerings. The opened bag exuded a satisfying yeasty aroma, and the distinctive, plump feel of bagels pre-wrapped in plastic greeted her searching fingers. She located one with an assortment of garlic ones, and sesame-seed bagels, too. Wally liked those. She popped two bags of them into a paper sack with some containers of soup.
She signaled for Jade’s attention, and waved. Jade nodded and returned to the animated conversation. A smile crept across Julie’s lips as she walked down the alley. She hoped someone kept track of all the ideas flying out of everyone, so she’d be able to get up to speed on the brainstorming session.
She almost slammed into Mark when she turned onto the sidewalk.
“Whoa.” He held his hands out, but pulled them back in a flash.
She caught her breath and stood, staring at his face. How handsome he was. She cleared her throat and spoke in a light tone. “What are you doing here?”
“I came back to get something I forgot. Just going back home now.” He pointed down the block at his car. “I can carry that for you.”
She needed to quit gawking at him. “I’m not going home yet. I’m taking this food to someone.”
“I can drive you.”
Oh, dear. How could she say no? She didn’t want to. “Okay, if you don’t mind.”
“Nope.”
Where was his easy, conversational manner? His expression and voice were so serious. It added another dimension to his attractiveness. Good heavens. She’d forgotten how powerful an attraction could be. He’d figure her out if she didn’t stop staring at him. Pasting on a cheery smile, she strode to the passenger door and hopped in.
Face averted, she gave the directions and pretended to be mesmerized by the scenery. He exuded a magnetic aura on her, and she didn’t dare peek over at him. When the short ride ended, she took in a needed long breath. He parked behind a large camper that sat next to the garage.
“Thanks for the lift. You don’t have to wait. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.” She glimpsed at him, his face mostly in shadow.
“I don’t mind.”
His serious, low tone sent a charged tingle through her. She swallowed. “Why don’t you come in, then?”
He didn’t answer, just looked at her. Then he said in a quiet voice, “Julie, I’d like to—”
A knock on the window startled her, while her heart thudded. He’d like to…what? Wally stood outside her door. She pressed the window button. Fresh cold air streamed in and helped clear her head. “Hi Wally. I came instead of Jade. How’s Monica?”
“She’s having a bad flare-up, but it’s eased some tonight.” He ducked his head down to peer at Mark, and a grin creased his whiskered cheeks. “Hey, Mark. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Mark’s normal friendly voice returned. “How are you? It’s been…let’s see, three years?”
“Yep. Right after Monica got rheumatoid.”
At her quizzical look, Wally said, “Monica and I used to clean the floors at the steakhouse every night. Had to stop when she got ill, and take myself a day job. Didn’t want her alone at night.”
He opened Julie’s door. “Why don’t you two step in? It’s roomier than it looks.” He gestured at the camper and Mark’s brows rose before the surprise melted back into his easy grin. He followed Julie to the door.
Wally stepped in ahead of them and held the door open. “Honey, guess who’s here? Mark from High Steaks, and Julie. She’s the one I told you about.”
A slender woman wrapped in a thick robe sat at a small table under a curtained window. Soft lighting bathed the small room. She gave them a gentle smile. A couch took up the space across from her, and Wally gestured to it. “Sit down, folks.”
Julie handed Wally the bag befo
re sitting and bobbing a hello to Monica. “Pleased to meet you. I made sure to bring some garlic bagels for you.”
Wally chuckled, and set the bag on the table before he parked on the chair next to Monica. “Thanks, Julie. It’s her favorite breakfast. Toasted garlic bagel and a sunny-side up egg.”
He and Monica shared a fond smile. Julie gazed around the compact quarters. “I love the layout in here. Everything you need, and it’s fitted together so nicely. Look at all your cupboards.”
Monica nodded and scanned her surroundings. “It took some getting used to, that’s for sure, after living in a house. But you need two incomes to keep a house going.” The understanding expression that passed between her and Wally made Julie’s heart hurt. So many hard changes they’d faced together. She found their devotion beautiful.
Monica smiled at Julie. “The trick is not to let things get disorganized. It doesn’t take much for a small place to feel unlivable if it’s cluttered.” She gestured to a cardboard box in the corner of the room. “Speaking of staying organized, Wally, can you give that to Julie, please?”
They had something for her? Wally set the box at her feet. Folded, colorful lengths of knitted items lay inside. What could all this be? She glanced up at Monica.
“Would you take those to Jade? It’s mittens and scarves from the yarn she brought me. Some finger-puppets, too. I thought she could give them to folks with children.” She smoothed her robe and added, “Soon as my hands are less stiff, I’ll knit some more.”
Julie glanced at Monica’s hands, some of the knuckles visibly pink and swollen. She gulped hard against the surge of tears that threatened when she pictured Monica knitting with her painful joints. Mark sat silent at her side. What was he thinking, feeling? Did his heart ache for them, too?
She swallowed again and rummaged in the box. She needed a distraction. Finding some puppets, she laid them on her lap, and popped one on her finger. She chuckled and bobbed it at herself. “How cute. It’s a kitty.”
A Work in Progress Page 9