Stupid Cupid

by Liz Hunter, Aka Mennen, Phyllis Campbell

  Twice he adjusted his seat and ‘accidentally’ rubbed his leg against hers. Both times, butterflies took wing inside her. She wished she could invite him over to her apartment after the movie, instead of her brother’s house with the kids. She knew she was moving too fast in falling for him, but he was the most exciting, most desirable man she’d ever met. He was the ‘once in a lifetime lover’ every woman dreams of. Judging by his interest, the feeling was mutual. She wished for magic to catch him, now and forever, all the while she chided herself for her folly.

  Unable to concentrate on the movie any longer, she faced him, determined to tell him to quit playing around, but he grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth. He licked her fingers, and slowly and thoroughly sucked her middle finger. Her bones melted at the erotic sensation and she thought she might slide right off her seat.

  Tiffany stirred in Tara’s lap, and the game abruptly ended. Harry smiled at her, nodding his head and promising untold sensations if she’d stay with him. His look said they hadn’t even gotten started yet. She wanted to correct him, knowing he was wrong for her, but her heart cried out, grab him! This is your chance of a lifetime.

  By the time the movie ended, Tara had little more idea of what the movie was about than Tiffany, who’d slept through most of it. The child woke up when the lights came on, and would have been cranky except that Tara promised they were headed to dinner. Harry suggested a family restaurant, and he was so sincere in his wish to accommodate the children that she agreed, though the kids were all accustomed to five star restaurants and trained to act as adults. They were more familiar with escargot and calamari than most children were with chicken nuggets.

  Yet dinner jolted Tara back to real life, bathroom breaks, helping cut Erica and Tiffany’s steak, bargaining for later bedtimes if they were good through dinner. She was surprised Harry stuck with them through dessert and shocked when he finally said farewell.

  “Can I come home with you?” He held her close next to the van, the children already in their seatbelts.

  She stifled a nervous giggle. If Harry was in a romantic mood, it wouldn’t last long. He had no idea of the chaos four children wreaked at bedtime. That would be one way to discourage him—let him think the kids were hers. But there were bigger issues than his dealing with children, specifically his dealing with women.

  She shook her head, unable to look at him directly. “Stop by next quarter, or whenever…” She glanced at him. “The kids had a great time. I enjoyed meeting you.”

  “You can say, ‘Goodbye, good riddance’ just like that?”

  “What do you expect? I’ll never fit into your harem.”

  “I keep telling you I don’t have a harem.”

  “Maybe not, but you have an infallible system that works perfectly for you and your women. I’d never fit into it. It would only make us both miserable because I’d nag you constantly and we’d end up hating each other.”

  He rested his lips against hers, tempting her with untold delights. Mustering her willpower, she pulled away. “Have a safe drive home. They’re calling for snow, so be careful. Okay?”

  He nodded. “You, too.”

  She couldn’t even cry or she’d upset the children.

  Harry usually listened to talk radio when he drove. Besides providing interesting fodder for his service calls, listening kept him alert. Tonight the weather bureau interrupted with dire warnings of heavy snow for the weekend, six to nine inches. No big deal. He was already well away from the area. His mind wandered as he drove, imagining Tara all alone in that huge house with four kids and heavy snow. A myriad of emergencies were possible. The electricity could go out, and how would she heat the house? She may have gas heat, but wouldn’t she need electricity to circulate the heat? He shook the thought off. Not his problem. He was a self-proclaimed ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ kinda guy, and that’s the way he liked it.

  But within a few miles his thoughts jumped back to her plight. What if she ran out of food? Driving that big van on slippery roads? Scary.

  He growled at his own thought and concentrated on a vision of Sybil, his next woman of the week. An image of Tara shoveling the driveway intruded.

  Why didn’t he get her phone number? He always got phone numbers from pretty ladies. Boy, maybe he needed a vacation.

  Worrying about a woman was brand new to Harry. Oh, he had minor concerns about his mom now and then. Thank goodness she was healthy and strong. She worked in Fine Jewelry at a department store in a mall just a few miles from the house. His two older sisters lived nearby with their husbands and batches of kids, and checked on her daily when he was out of town. Harry’s father had been a victim of a car accident years ago, when Harry was fifteen, so he realized how fragile life could be, and how fate could cheat innocent people. He turned the radio to a pop music station to belay the memories.

  When he finally arrived home at one am, Dottie Howard met her son at the door of her thirty year old ranch house that she and Harry’s father had bought as newlyweds. “Thank God you’re home! Where have you been? I was scared to death something had happened to you!”

  “Sorry, Mom, I got a late start.” He headed for the refrigerator and grabbed a gallon of milk.

  She followed him. “A late start? An hour is a late start. Seven hours is inexcusable. Why didn’t you call?”

  He had no choice but to lie. “My phone was dead.”

  “And all the pay phones were out of order the whole way from Chicago to Indianapolis?”

  “I forgot, okay?”

  “You forgot! You’ve never been so irresponsible. Did you lose your job?”

  He shook his head and downed half the milk he’d poured.

  “Did one of your accounts have an emergency?”

  He shook his head.

  “Are you ill? Was the traffic bad?”

  “No more than usual. Can we just drop it?”

  “You met a woman.”

  He met her eyes, unable to deny her accusation.

  “You met a woman!” She all but danced around the room. “Tell me about her! She’s pretty; I know she must be, to have attracted you. How old is she? What’s her name? Where does she live?”

  Harry started laughing, but she didn’t stop.

  “What does she do for a living? Where did you meet? When are you bringing her home to meet the family?”

  How could he confess to his mother that the woman of his dreams had four kids by two different fathers, neither of whom she’d ever married? Or had she said, ‘I’m not married,’ which might imply that she was married when she had the kids. Wow. Divorced twice and she couldn’t be more than twenty-five or six. Not good. Did she work? Did she go to college? Damn, he had as many questions as his mother and no answers for any of them. The more he told his mother, the more Tara sounded like a slut. Good thing he neglected to get her number. He didn’t need the complications she carried. “I’m wiped out, Mom. Can we save this interrogation for morning?”

  Dottie studied him with a wistful expression and opened her arms for a hug. “I’m so happy for you—if you’re happy?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired.”

  “Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “I think the subject is closed. She was a momentary diversion. Love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, Harry. Get a good night’s rest. Will you have time to do a few chores for me in the morning?”

  “Sure.” He sighed and headed downstairs to his bedroom. He’d framed out a portion of the basement several years ago when he’d finished the rec-room, built himself a private space. He realized that as his mother aged, she’d depend more and more on her children for odd jobs and support. His two sisters had both married men who knew their way around a workshop, yet every time a chore or project came up at Mom’s place, it seemed they were in the middle of an odd job of their own or too busy with the kids.

  Is that what he wanted? Harry asked himself, ‘cause that’s what he’d be doing
if he got involved in Tara’s life. From observing his sisters’ lifestyles, raising children meant a never-ending cycle of sick kids and baseball and ballet and swimming and school conferences and shopping for shoes.

  No thanks.

  He wasn’t too crazy about his responsibilities as it was, tonight.

  Things never changed, never would … he could always count on his weekend list of chores. That should tell him that no way should he change his current, organized lifestyle or be available to someone like Tara with the responsibilities she carried. Someone like her wasn’t a Monday through Friday kind of proposition.

  His mother needed him. So would Tara … four times the amount. He couldn’t handle the thought.

  “Where exactly does your girlfriend live?”

  Harry hadn’t had even a sip of coffee yet and already his mother was quizzing him. “Chicago. Why?”

  “That’s where the worst of the storm is supposed to hit.”

  Despite only a few hours sleep, he jolted wide awake. “How much are they predicting?”

  “Twenty-four to thirty-six inches. They’re calling it the storm of the century.”

  “Considering we’re only a few years into the new century, that’s not saying much.” He poured his coffee and joined his mother at the table. “They always exaggerate.” His skepticism evaporated when he looked at the weather map. “Holy Shi—Crow.”

  “You were right the first time.”

  “I have to go back. She needs me.”

  “You just got here six hours ago. You can’t make that trip again without proper rest.”

  “Of course I can. I’m young and strong. Isn’t what you always tell me?”

  “Surely she has family, neighbors to help her out.”

  “I don’t know that for sure. She lives alone…”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “Mom, she has four children.”

  “Four children!” She slapped her hand onto her heart. “Is she widowed?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “So where’s the father?”

  “Come on, Mom, I barely know her. As far as I know, the dads are in the Caribbean.”

  “Dads … as in … multiple fathers? Are they … gay or something?”

  “I don’t know. I just met her.”

  “Then you need to forget her real fast. You don’t need weirdo relationships like that.”

  He heaved a deep, impatient sigh.

  “Just think what you’re getting yourself into, Son. Marriage is hard enough without asking for trouble. I thought you had more sense than getting trapped with a suspect woman—and all those kids!”

  “I can’t help it. I was standing next to her, totally unaware, and suddenly it just hit me. It was love at first sight.”

  Not exactly first sight, he realized. He remembered now the woman with the kids and how patient he’d been because he was so interested in the hot shop owner and wanting to know her better, actually, wanting to get into the shop owner’s pants, but he couldn’t tell his mom that. And that quick something hit him! He couldn’t even remember the owner’s name now, but if he lived to be a hundred, he’d never erase Tara Avery from his mind.

  “I have to go back. She needs me.” He saw the protest form on his mother’s face. “And just as important, I need her.”

  Four

  By mid-afternoon on Saturday, the snowfall was beginning to worry Tara. She’d heard the dire predictions and hadn’t thought much of them. The news stations always exaggerated, tried to hype their forecasts to attract more viewers.

  But it just kept piling up.

  She took the kids out for errands early so there was plenty of fresh milk and eggs and all the essentials. At nine in the morning the lines in the grocery store had been halfway down the aisles. At home, the freezer was packed with meat, chicken and seafood; the refrigerator full of fresh fruit and vegetables; the cupboards stocked with canned goods, pasta, cake mix, cereal and cookies. She should have told the grocer that if the store ran out of anything, they could get it from her.

  Late morning they shoveled the driveway and built a snowman, Baraboo romping in his element. She needed to get the little barrel you always found around St. Bernard’s necks. By now the poor snow man was getting closer to the ground every hour as the snow continued to pile up around his bottom. His stove pipe hat doubled in height.

  Kim and Erica tracked Tara down in the first floor office. “What’cha doing?”

  “Trying to polish this book. It’s due to my editor in another week, and I don’t even have all the illustrations finished.”

  “Can you read it to us? We can help polish it.”

  “Thanks, but it’s not suitable for sharing yet.” Always a handy excuse when she lacked time and patience.

  “Can we go out and play in the snow?”

  “Did you clean your room?”

  A pained expression crept over each of their faces. “That rule doesn’t count on snow days.”

  “Yeah, it does. Matter of fact, you can help Tiffany pick up the stuffed animals in the nursery. I couldn’t even walk through the room to make her bed. And remind Kevin to vacuum the couch. Baraboo was up there again.” Tara made every attempt to rule her brother’s home while he was away.

  “Baraboo’s always up on the couch,” Erica pointed out. “Are you in a bad mood?”

  “Of course not. I’m just reminding you guys to do your share. It’ll teach you discipline.”

  “Why can’t you just let us have some fun for a change?” Kim flounced out of the room, Erica on her heels.

  Tara knew she was in trouble. If the girls were this bored already, after only seven hours of snowfalling, how would they get through the next couple days? Her brothers sure lucked out, scheduling their cruise during what turned out to be the storm of the century—up to now. It must have something to do with atmospheric pressure, she decided. She felt decidedly unsettled herself.

  Part of it was being on deadline and knowing she hadn’t finished the illustrations. They worried her. Thank goodness she was finished with the young adult series. After three books, all the pictures had started to look the same. Now that she’d switched to picture books, she needed a new style, but she hadn’t discovered it yet. She put her head in her hands. She really needed some time off. Her editor disagreed.

  Part of it was due to thoughts of Harry. He made her want … things. Love, excitement, a special man all her own. Things she’d probably never have. She’d have to be content with the family she had. Not that she didn’t love every one of her family members … she did, she loved her two brothers and their wives and children, her mom and dad and various aunts and uncles and cousins. She just needed … Harry.

  He wasn’t a type she would have sought out; she had no need for a womanizer. What woman ever did? But how many women could resist? Ninety-nine in a hundred? That left her as one in a hundred. He wasn’t even into children, though he seemed to tolerate them nicely enough. Surely he had some good points to counter the less than stellar qualities. He was thoughtful and kind. It was endearing that he took the kids to a family restaurant. Never mind that they sneered behind his back. He was drop-dead gorgeous. He probably got along with dogs okay. He loved women.

  That was the kicker. He loved women so much that he maintained a revolving harem. He must not respect women totally or he wouldn’t spread his favors so far afield. So how could she still crave being in his arms? She’d spent last night tossing and turning, wishing the kids’ parents weren’t on cruise and that she could be free to follow him to the ends of the earth

  Her behavior shamed her.

  Yet she ached for his touch.

  Hell, she wasn’t getting anywhere with her story, she may as well shovel the driveway—again—work off some of this sexual energy.

  Harry pulled into the Avery driveway at seven o’clock Saturday night, thanking heaven for getting him here safely. After nearly twelve hours of driving, sometimes with traffic barely moving in b
lizzard conditions, he was achy and cold and bleary-eyed. He wanted a stiff drink, warm slippers and a hug from a special woman.

  A foot of snow covered the sidewalk to the front door; he therefore rang the bell at the small door next to the double garage door. Surely with all this snow, he could assume informality was in order. While he waited, he saluted the two snowmen in the front yard. Tara must have kept the four kids busy … or more likely, they drove her crazy all day and she’d taken them outside as self-defense.

  Wouldn’t it be rotten luck to come all this way and find no one home? Lights were on inside, outside too, but that could just be a security measure. He counted off another minute and pushed on the doorbell until he heard a deep bark of a dog from inside the house.

  Finally he heard the stirrings of people behind the door. “Who’s there?” came Tara’s voice.

  “It’s me, Harry!”

  The momentary stillness scared him. What if she wouldn’t let him in? He’d never find a motel room, not with the bad weather and stranded motorists, and he was too exhausted to drive back to Indianapolis tonight. He had no idea whether his Week #6 in his quarterly rotation down in Springfield would welcome him early and on a weekend. What if she had a date? Harry would feel like she was two-timing him. He’d rather not know.

  The door swung open, Tara in front, four children peeking out from behind. The scratching of claws on cement warned him before the St. Bernard nearly bowled him over.

  “Baraboo! Down!”

  The dog wrapped his front legs around Harry’s waist and danced his new partner around in a circle.

  “I love you too, Mutt, but get down. I’m tired and cold.” He caught Tara’s eye. “Can I come in? Please?”

  “Oh, you poor thing, of course you can come in. Baraboo, get down.”