A Work in Progress

by Nancy Shew Bolton

  She called him a snob. How could he be? He lived in a tiny, cluttered apartment. The whole time he was growing up, Dad worked in a factory and Mom kept house and baby-sat for extra money. He’d never eaten fancy food until he landed the job here and Chris taught him about expensive ingredients. He grew up eating plain, filling meals. Once a year on Christmas, they ate prime rib roast that Dad bought from a local farmer. Didn’t sound like the description of a snob to him. But was he?

  He crossed his arms, leaned back, and closed his eyes, picturing her angry face. Come to think of it, she looked quite pretty when furious. And how passionate she was. He sighed. Might as well forget any of that passion directed at him. He knew disgust when he saw it. That’s the only emotion she had for him now. She didn’t even want him to help her with the bags.

  Maybe her connection with Mickey came from the food gleaning activities. But Mickey was well-to-do. Why would he be interested in that? If anyone could be called a snob, wouldn’t it be Mickey and not him?

  What a puzzle she was. Last night in his car, he could tell she wanted him to kiss her. She didn’t seem like a changeable, casual person. She had some kind of feelings for him, despite the mixed signals. Like Mom always said, “If you want to know something, ask.” He’d finish his cleaning, and wait until she walked home after her bakery visit. Then he’d find out.

  * * *

  Stomping home felt so good, as good as telling him off. The way he said dumpster diving. She could’ve slapped him, but chided herself for the impulse. Striking people was wrong, and wouldn’t improve their attitudes anyway. She should focus on people who cared to do something good, instead of wasting emotion on anyone who jeered at people who tried to change things.

  Why couldn’t he be a better person than that? Did he only delight in serving people good food because he got paid to do it? She’d thought his pleasure in his work was more than that. It didn’t fit that if he enjoyed feeding people, he’d disdain what she did. It made no sense.

  She hurried up the stairs to her apartment, and turned her music on as loud as she dared while she got food ready for the bakery and put the beef bones in to roast. She welcomed the anger towards Mark. It helped dispel the dragged-out hopeless longing she’d carried all day. Perhaps she’d turned a corner with all that mess, and the feelings would leave her now. The thought relaxed her tense neck and shoulders.

  Mickey and Rick were already there when she arrived. They waited as she handed out soup before they stood close to her.

  Mickey said, “Rick and I think we should find a storefront to rent somewhere downtown, to coordinate all the food. I know some of the churches help out where they can, but we need a central location that’s available every day, don’t you think?”

  Her heart warmed to the idea. “That would be great, but how would we pay for it?”

  Mickey grinned at her. “I’m working on it.”

  Rick elbowed him and chuckled. Zach and Jade showed up, and erupted in smiles when Mickey broached his plan.

  “What a lot of problems that would solve,” Zach said. Jade and Zach launched into some logistics while Julie let her mind wander. A place to organize everything and distribute it. Not having to deal with worries about the weather, especially now that winter loomed. Freezing night temperatures compromised the produce, making it soft and quick to spoil if they didn’t glean it before it froze.

  She joined in with suggestions, and headed for home once the others left the bakery for the rest of the gleaning route. If she didn’t have tasks waiting, what a treat it would be to go with them. Their enthusiasm gave her such a boost, especially after the tense day at work.

  She drew in deep breaths of the fresh, cold air, smiling at the thought of all the extra help furnished by Mickey and Rick. Mickey’s remark that he was working on getting a storefront kept circling her thoughts. Judging by his delighted expression, and Rick’s, it appeared they must be close to announcing some good news.

  Thank you, God, for sending those two.

  Once up the stairs and in her apartment, the smell of roasting beef bones reminded her of the steakhouse. And Mark. She’d keep any soft thoughts of him off her mind. They were so unsuited, any relationship could only mean unnecessary trouble for both of them. She’d ride out the attraction somehow.

  After the tongue-lashing she’d handed him, it wasn’t likely he’d want to approach her again. Maybe she should feel guilty about the way she spoke to him, but she didn’t. She’d grown tired of hearing disparaging remarks about what mattered to her, and the distaste in his voice stabbed at her with surprising intensity.

  Julie took the pan of bones out to cool. Mr. Barlow told her to take the unused grass-fed meat home, too, so tonight, she’d make stew as well as beef stock for soup. She flipped her gospel music on, humming or singing with it as she organized vegetables to go in the stew.

  A rap on the door interrupted her. Probably a neighbor wanting her music turned off? She called out, “Just a minute,” rinsed and wiped her hands, and switched off the songs. She put on a smile before opening the door. Oh, no. Mark stood there, wearing a serious, unreadable expression.

  Her heart thumped into overdrive while she quenched a sudden urge to shut the door. Fast. Instead, she swallowed and tried to appear casual. “Yes?”

  “May I come in?” The sound of his voice vibrated through her unsteady nerves.

  “Sure.” She stepped aside and almost pinched herself as he walked past. She needed to get a grip. Closing the door, she attempted to wear a polite, friendly face.

  His glance took in her apartment, and the array of food laid out on her kitchen table. He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Looks like you’re busy. I’ll be brief.”

  She stood still, waiting, her heartbeat thudding so hard she was sure he must hear it. He clenched his jaw then crossed his arms. “I have a question.”

  Not another crazy question. She walked over near the table, busying herself by unpacking root vegetables and setting them by the cutting board. Where had the anger gone? She needed it right now.

  He cleared his throat. “Could you stop working and look at me, please?”

  What an odd, uncomfortable request. She stopped her hands and made herself look at him. Dread surged through her middle. The intense expression in his eyes caught her breath.

  He shifted and uncrossed his arms. “How do you feel about me, Julie?”

  She averted her gaze from his probing eyes. He’d be able to read everything if she didn’t. She turned her head, then her body, trying to get some kind of emotional distance from him while panic rose. What could she say?

  “I…well…that is—” Her voice died.

  The sound of his feet moving made the skin prickle on the back of her neck. He stood near. She could feel it in every nerve.

  His quiet voice sounded, filling the vacuum surrounding them. “All you need to do is answer.”

  “I can’t,” she choked out.

  “Try.” His hand rested on her shoulder. Once again, the strange sensation of her bones turning to melted wax flooded her. Time stopped, breathing halted and the echo of her own blood pulsing in her ears made her dizzy. She swayed and his other hand steadied her. She pivoted to him, her own hands reaching to encircle his neck. His skin radiated warmth.

  She turned beseeching eyes to him. His pupils darkened and her eyes closed as his mouth came down to hers, possessing her, answering her need. Her stopped breath came in short gasps now, followed by trembling blasts of energy at his touch. The kiss engulfed her senses, poured through her like fire.

  Her arms twined around him, fingers lacing into the hair on the back of his neck, while their lips explored, pressed, searched. His breath rasped in her ear when he slid his mouth to her throat. She almost swooned at the contact, and gasped in some air, steadying as his caresses returned to her lips. A slight sound in his throat drew an answering one from hers.

  A decade of banked-down emotions became unleashed by him, and she let it go, held
nothing back. She couldn’t resist him, didn’t want to. Didn’t want him to ever stop kissing her, but too soon, he did. She clasped him back to her when he pulled his head away, and burrowed her head under his chin, breathing in his scent.

  His panting slowed a bit, and his fingers teased through her hair, smoothing it from her face. Though he opened his mouth to speak, instead, he lowered his lips to hers again. As if the first kisses were the warm-up, the intensity increased to a frantic level this time. Somehow they ended up on the floor, stretched against each other, before he stopped short.

  His voice croaked out, “Gotta stop.”

  She moaned, “No,” and laid her hands on the sides of his flushed face.

  “Yes.” He clasped his hands over the tops of hers, and then hitched up onto his knees. “I don’t even remember how we got down here.”

  “Can’t we stay?” If he’d only kiss her again. No dream had ever been so compelling.

  “No, ma’am we can’t.” He stood, and reached to help her up. She swayed into him, and rested her head on his chest. His heart thudded in her ears. Her fingers explored his face, stopping at his mouth. His arms tightened around her, she raised her head and another kiss began, this time slow and painful in intensity, as though it was the last one they’d ever share.

  He held her head against him, and stroked her hair. “You never did answer my question.”

  She heard the smile in his voice, and couldn’t help a grin of her own. “Didn’t I?”

  A chuckle rumbled under her ear. “Say it. How do you feel about me?”

  She gazed up at him. “Obviously I like you. I’m confused by you, I get annoyed with you, infuriated, frustrated, attracted, all sorts of things. Is there one word for that?”

  His eyes grew serious. “I don’t know.”

  “Neither do I. Maybe I should ask how you feel about me. After all, a few hours ago, you thought I was a thief, as well as a dumpster diver.”

  A wry grin followed her pointed delivery. “Sorry about that. I could tell that really set you off.” He ran a finger along her jaw. “So pretty.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s see. How do I feel about Julie?”

  He stared up at the ceiling. “Pretty much what you said. I’m really attracted to you, though you confuse the heck out of me, and I don’t know what to make of you. For two years you were distant, and didn’t show your personality. Then you changed and I couldn’t stop noticing you.” His eyes returned to hers. After locking eyes with her for charged moments, he said, “Uh-oh,” and dipped his mouth to capture hers.

  She’d never felt this heedless, or free to unleash herself. If she didn’t crave the sensation so much, his effect on her would have caused panic. Her self-control vanished at his nearness, and she wanted nothing more than to keep touching him, kissing him, and memorizing him with her eyes. Was this really Mark holding her, driving her crazy?

  “Okay, time out.” Mark held her away from him, hair disheveled, chest heaving. She must look equally rumpled and out of breath. All at once, laughter erupted from her. The absurdity of their altered situation struck her. This was Mark who she was practically mauling in her kitchen. The same Mark she told herself was all the things she didn’t want. Now she couldn’t keep her hands off him.

  Mark laughed with her, and gasped out, “Have we gone crazy, or what?”

  “Definitely,” she managed between belly laughs.

  He sank onto a nearby chair and pulled her on his lap while they continued laughing. She leaned against him, delighting in the expression on his face, and the sound of his laugh. When their merriment slowed, she nestled her head under his chin. They grew quiet, arms twined around the other as time seemed to flow around them, encircling and knitting them together.

  Too soon, his voice issued in a near whisper. “I think you better sit in your own chair.”

  She’d sensed the mood shift from tenderness to attraction, and though she wanted nothing more than to kiss him again, she rose and sat in the chair by him, shifting it to face him. Their hands instantly laced together and their fingers began a dance of slow caresses as they stared at each other, knees touching.

  Doubt crept into her heart and made her stomach hurt. “Am I just your next conquest, Mark?”

  His brow furrowed. “Conquest? Is that what you call dating?”

  “The way you do it, yes.” She dropped her gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but you flirt and date so easily, and then you drop the girls like you never cared in the first place.”

  She couldn’t stop her honest questions. She needed to find out. “Is that what will happen to me? I want you to tell me the truth.”

  He sighed, dropped her hands, stood, and paced to the window. “The truth. The truth is, after a few months, they all start complaining, so I know it’s only a matter of time before they’ll dump me. Once they get to know me, and I’m not in early dating mode anymore, things fall apart.”

  “What’s early dating mode?”

  He turned from the window, eyebrows tilted up. “C’mon, you know. When you’re trying to be entertaining for them, do whatever they want to do. Like they say, putting your best foot forward. All that.”

  “Sounds like being somebody else.”

  He gave a short, wry laugh. “I guess it is. Because once they figure out who I really am, I can tell I’m scheduled to be crossed off their menu. That’s how dating goes, for me.” He trudged back and sat down. “Didn’t you ever go through early dating-mode?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I ever knew how to pull that off, even if I wanted to.”

  His expression shifted from intent to sad. “Maybe because you already loved someone.”

  The compassion in his eyes undid her, and tears began. He patted her hands. “I’m right, aren’t I? You love Kevin.”

  She covered her face and let the sobs go.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Her broken-hearted crying filled Mark with despair. Despite her obvious attraction to him, when she heard Kevin’s name, it touched a raw nerve. Kevin would always be first in her heart, and the realization hurt like a stab wound in Mark’s vitals. Now she was suffering because he’d brought it up. Should he gather her in his arms, or would that intrude on her at a vulnerable time? They shared such a strong pull for each other, it could be confusing for her if he held her right now.

  But he couldn’t just sit there while she cried. He knelt in front of her, and pulled her to him. “It’s okay. You go ahead and let it out.”

  Her arms looped around his neck and she sobbed onto his chest. He rocked her gently, stroking her soft hair. Poor girl. What an awful burden to carry.

  Her sobbing slowed and she sniffed and spoke in broken tones, her breath catching every few words. “It went on so long, and I couldn’t tell anyone. Just God and my parents.” She wiped her face with her sleeve. “It hurt so much.”

  He stroked her hair and resisted the urge to press a comforting kiss on the top of her head. His knees became uncomfortable on the hard floor, so he sat back in his chair, and moved it next to her. He clasped his arm around her, and she laid her head against him, sniffling.

  She took in a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry to break down like that. I didn’t expect to.”

  “Don’t apologize. I can’t imagine how awful it must be for you.” It cost a lot not to say how hard it was for him, too. He swallowed against his own inner turmoil, and concentrated on her.

  She dabbed her eyes and kept her head on his shoulder. “I never expected it to go on the way it did. I figured once he and Sheila got married, it would fade. Then when they had Casey, I thought it would end. But the feelings wouldn’t stop torturing me.”

  “My mother says you can’t tame the heart.” How he wished he could quiet his right now.

  “That’s true. Sometimes I don’t even understand mine. Like tonight.” She raised her head and gazed at him.

  “You mean because of what happened between us?”

  She nodded.

&nbs
p; “Do you feel like you’re betraying Kevin somehow?”

  “How would it betray Kevin?” Her brow furrowed and she blinked at him.

  He smoothed some flyaway strands of hair away from her eyes. “I guess not betray him, really. More like betray yourself. Because you’d rather be kissing him.”

  She bolted off the chair, eyes sparking. He raised his palms. “What did I say?”

  She clapped her hands onto her hips. “Why do you always imagine the worst of me?” Her eyes narrowed in a glare. “Number one, I don’t want to kiss someone else’s husband. Number two, I don’t love Kevin that way now. I was talking about the past. Number three, I wouldn’t betray or delude myself. Maybe you’re so used to being somebody else with women, you can’t tell honest emotions when they’re in your face. Or your arms.”

  She stalked over to the window, arms hugging herself. “Maybe I have deluded myself. With you.” She shook her head.

  He stared at her. She wasn’t in love with Kevin anymore? His heart lifted at the thought, then fell back down as he replayed what she said about him. “What do you mean by that?”

  “That…what?” She kept herself turned away from him.

  “Deluding yourself with me.”

  Her shoulders sank as she released a long sigh. “Because we’re not at all alike. Everything’s a joke to you, or no big deal. It’s easy for you to imagine the worst in people. You date women you don’t even stay friends with afterwards. How I could even be attracted to you is a complete mystery to me. So, maybe I’m deluding myself. Understand now?”

  Anger at her words and condescending tone bubbled up. He stood. “I’m too clueless and shallow to understand, so why bother to ask?” He wanted to escape, and grabbed his coat where he’d left it by the door. “Sorry to waste your time.”

  There was no point in hesitating. She stayed with her back to him. Maybe she did betray herself by kissing someone she disdained so much. How many times did this need to happen to him before he wised up? Why did he never fail to pick women who’d end up rejecting him? And this time he was aware of her attitude before anything started, but he went ahead anyway and forced the issue. What an idiot. Okay, this time he’d learn. No matter what.