by Mary Strand
“Excellent, if you live in the Twin Cities.”
I rolled my eyes. “Pathetic. Try again.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. I’ve been a flirt since birth.” He looked sideways at me, eyebrows dancing. “But I see why Olivia didn’t ask you to dinner tonight. Too much competition.”
I shrugged. “Sorry, but no great loss. I didn’t exactly pack with her in mind, and I don’t think she’d appreciate my T-shirt collection.”
“Like?”
I unzipped my heavy jacket to reveal my Pearl Jam T-shirt. “My mom hates my rock band T-shirts, too, and Mrs. Parks is more demanding than my mom.”
Patrick grinned. “Well, I like them. Sneak into the dining room and sit next to me at dinner tonight. Dare you.”
I laughed as I turned and headed in the direction he’d been going. “What are you? Thirteen?”
“Going on eighty. And everything in between, seems like.”
I nodded sympathetically. “Afghanistan?”
Just a curt nod back from him.
I poked him in the arm. “Well, at least you have Mrs. Parks to dote on you. It must make you feel young again.”
“Like, say, about three?”
“Something like that.” I fell into an easy pace with him—faster than most people walk, but neither of us breathing hard. “Where do you live? In Connecticut, like Alex?”
“I grew up close to him, but no. My home base, when I’m home, is Washington, D.C. ”
I wanted to ask him about Washington, but he didn’t seem too keen on talking about it. So I kept silent—well, until Patrick told a joke and we laughed and started chatting again. He walked back to the house with me but didn’t exactly kiss me.
Dang. Except for that one small detail, it’d almost been a perfect first date.
I could hardly wait to see him again.
I saw him sooner than I expected.
An hour after returning from my wickedly fun walk, Wild Bill came running up to the third floor, Rachel a step behind him, both of them breathing hard and close to collapsing.
“Liz, Mrs. Parks wants us to join her tonight!”
I didn’t know why Wild Bill had to announce the big news, but I had a feeling who’d triggered the change of plans. Hadn’t I basically told Patrick I hated hanging out with Mrs. Parks? Was he that desperate to see me?
If so, why couldn’t he catch me alone? Great idea!
Sighing, I glanced at my watch. “Sorry, but it’s almost five o’clock, and I hadn’t exactly planned on it.” I mentally went through my clean clothes, and there wasn’t much besides jeans, sweats, and band T-shirts. Just like all week. “You guys go. Really. I’ll go to McDonald’s.”
Bill’s eyes bugged out. “No way.”
Rachel turned to me and lifted an eyebrow. “I think Patrick asked Mrs. Parks.” Just like I thought. Traitor.
I took a deep breath, then let it out. “Fine.”
Luckily, Rachel understood my clothing predicament. After kicking Bill out, she showed me her closet. We were pretty close in size, at least on top—I had longer legs and slimmer hips—and I wouldn’t have to shove a heavy-metal T-shirt down Mrs. Parks’s throat. I’d wait to do that, instead, at church on Easter. Heh heh.
The instant we set foot in the living room, Patrick planted himself at my side. After a quick hi to everyone else, I sat next to him on the loveseat at the far end. Alex sat across the room on a straight-backed wooden chair, scowling. When Patrick and I started chatting where we’d left off this afternoon, Mrs. Parks cleared her throat.
“What’s that you’re saying, Patrick? What are you telling Elizabeth?”
Patrick laughed. “I was just telling Liz what a great name Liz is, and how well it suits her. It’s so different from the name Elizabeth, don’t you think, Olivia?”
I kicked his leg, which only set off more howls of laughter.
Mrs. Parks gave us the evil eye. “I’m serious, Patrick. What were you discussing with, er, with her?”
“Oh, nothing really. Mostly music.”
“Music? My favorite subject!” Mrs. Parks clapped her hands together. “Let’s all talk about that, shall we?”
Patrick glanced sideways at me, drawing another scowl from Alex. “I’m not sure we were talking about your kind of music, Olivia.”
She sniffed. “I think you’ll find that I’m familiar with quite a bit more than just jazz and classical.”
Patrick grinned. “My mistake. We were talking about the White Stripes and Coldplay. How do you think they compare to, say, the Rolling Stones or Def Lepard? More modern or really just more of the same?”
Mrs. Parks looked bug-eyed. “Elizabeth—”
Patrick held a hand in the air. “I think she goes by Liz. Isn’t that right, Liz?”
I nodded mutely, but Mrs. Parks looked ready to cross the room and slap me. Her face flamed. “I wanted to ask about her family. Bill has told me a little about her father’s work, but he said she’d be happy to share more details.”
I smiled, realizing how not-so-cleverly Mrs. Parks had shifted to avoiding my name altogether, but it stunned me when Alex spoke up. “She? Her? Olivia, were you talking about Liz? I couldn’t quite make that out.”
Outnumbered, Mrs. Parks crossed her arms. “Yes, yes, I meant Liz, and you know it.”
I got a reprieve, though, because dinner was ready. My mouth watered at the huge slabs of salmon with mango salsa. Patrick claimed the chair on my left and, surprising me, Alex sat on my right. He hardly said a thing all during dinner, so Patrick and I kept gabbing. Throw in the fabulous salmon, and I couldn’t be happier.
But too soon we were back in the living room. I grabbed the loveseat again, and Patrick squeezed in next to me, but this time Alex actually dragged a chair across the room and sat on the other side of me. Nice and cozy.
Not.
Patrick and I started joking around, but Alex just stared at me. Did he want to talk to me? Even though his pal Charlie didn’t exactly feel like talking to Jane? Finally, I lifted an eyebrow. “Did I do something wrong?” I glanced at Patrick and shrugged, even though I wasn’t exactly immune to Alex. I just wasn’t sure what I felt.
Alex rolled his eyes. “Do you ever do anything wrong? You’re just not exactly easy to read.”
“Listen to you.” Snorting, I turned again to Patrick. “Coming from Alex, it’s practically a compliment. Doesn’t he make me sound mysterious? If not glamorous?”
Patrick’s lips twitched. “If you were trying for glamorous, you shouldn’t have mentioned the band T-shirts.”
“Okay, there’s that.”
We both laughed uproariously, leaving Alex out in the cold, which was half the point.
Mrs. Parks joined us then, probably the first time I’d seen Alex looking relieved since he arrived yesterday.
“Elizabeth—er, Liz—looks a little tired. I think we should let her go upstairs.” She pointed in the direction of the hallway, even though it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet and she was the one who looked tired. I usually stayed up late.
But not with Patrick, apparently. At least, not tonight.
Saturday morning, I was on the computer in Mrs. Parks’s office off the front hall, typing a long email to Jane that recapped the night before, even though I hadn’t heard a single word from her all week.
I froze when I heard footsteps in the front hall. Tensing, I quickly minimized the email screen. I didn’t want to lose the email or let anyone else see it, not even Rachel. Her whole situation here in Fargo, not to mention Wild Bill and Mrs. Parks, never got great praise in my emails to Jane.
When the footsteps stopped at the door to the office, I turned to look, hoping it might be Patrick.
Nope. Alex. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
I just looked at him as he stood there, silent and looking uncomfortable. After a minute, I realized he wasn’t planning to say anything, which was weird for anyone but Alex. Around him, I always felt like I must have malaria or somet
hing. No wonder he kept his distance.
I tried to shrug it off. “So. You guys sure left Woodbury in a hurry. When was that, November?” I remembered the exact day, of course, but refused to act like I gave a rat’s ass.
He nodded.
“Does Charlie plan to come back to Woodbury?”
“I’m...not sure. He travels a lot for work. Everywhere.”
“How weird that he stayed in Woodbury so long, then.”
Alex switched gears in a hurry. “You must’ve missed your friend Rachel to come to Fargo for spring break. You didn’t want to go to Florida or Mexico? Or...New York?”
“I wish.” I shrugged, even though I felt something funny in my stomach when he mentioned New York. Maybe it was the intense look on his face, but, then, Alex always looked intense. “I didn’t have a lot of options. I’m broke and in college. I can’t even afford my own apartment yet.”
“Your sister Jane—”
“—is probably waiting for me to scrape together enough cash to split the rent on an apartment.” I wouldn’t let Alex think for a moment that Jane was sitting at home, pining for Charlie, let alone stalking him. Let alone pregnant. “Maybe next year. I’d love to get a place by one of the lakes.”
“In Minneapolis?”
“Yeah.” I wondered why I was spilling my guts to Alex, of all people. I hadn’t had the heart to mention the apartment to Jane in ages, since she seemed so fragile. But I’d been thinking about it. A lot.
Alex stepped into the office and, maybe since every flat surface seemed to be piled high with boxes and thick envelopes, leaned against the wall. He actually looked hot in his jeans and black sweater, but I still wished he’d go away. “What do you think of Fargo?”
“Not much.”
He tipped his head back and laughed. The sight was so rare, I just sat there, stunned.
He finally stopped laughing when he noticed that I hadn’t cracked a smile. “Sorry. I’ve always been amazed that Olivia stayed in Fargo after her husband left her. My mom never understood, either. You’d think she’d want something more glamorous, like New York.”
I shook my head. “No way. She likes being a big fish in a small pond. And this is one small pond, babe.”
Suddenly realizing what I’d called Alex—without thinking!—I clapped my hand over my mouth.
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. Thankfully for both of us, Rachel walked in right then, her nose red from the short walk she’d taken to the grocery store. Alex immediately clammed up. A few minutes later, he scooted out the door with a vague wave in my general direction.
Weird.
“Good grief, Liz. I never realized.” As Rachel stripped off her jacket and shivered, she looked at me like I had a wart on my face. “Alex has the hots for you.”
“Are you crazy? The guy barely speaks to me. And he’s weird when he does.”
Rachel looked skeptical. “He looks at you a lot, but I admit I can’t tell what’s going through his mind. I mean, it’s not like he’s ogling your chest or anything.”
I glanced down, knowing I didn’t have much to ogle. Not that it mattered. Stephanie paraded in front of Alex in stuffed bras all the time, and he didn’t seem to notice.
Bottom line, Alex wasn’t interested, and I told myself I didn’t care. I could flirt with Patrick. “He’s bored. If he has to choose between Mrs. Parks or me, he picks me. Big whoop. We’re not talking a lot of choice.”
Rachel shrugged. “Alex has known Mrs. Parks since birth. She’s practically like a mother to him.”
“Finally. A reason to pity Alex Darcy.”
Chapter 14
“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume II, Chapter Eleven
I avoided Alex the rest of Saturday morning and didn’t see him at lunch. Maybe he was avoiding me, too, but it worked out the same. Rachel was crazy. Alex did not have a crush on me.
But Patrick might be a different story. He also wasn’t complicated—or at least not as indecipherable as Alex.
Saturday afternoon was even more beautiful than Friday, so I headed out for another walk. Rachel didn’t offer to tag along, and I actually liked solo treks—especially now that they offered the possibility of running into Patrick.
I didn’t want to look obvious, though, so I had my head down and arms swinging at my sides as I moved at a fast clip. After a while, I even forgot about Patrick. I had to admit, my weird conversation with Alex today bugged me the more I thought about it. He wasn’t the type to chat up a mildly cute young thing just for kicks. Besides, he thought I was a pain in the butt.
Absorbed in my thoughts, I saw Alex only when I hit his chest dead-on. A huge thud, and we each bounced backward. He stayed on his feet, and I landed on my butt.
After helping me up, he just stood there. Silent. I brushed myself off, thanked him, and pretended to apologize for not paying attention to where I’d been going.
Five minutes later, I ran into him again. Not literally this time, but still. Weird. I just looked at him and kept going.
He turned around and caught up with me. Not saying a word, just tagging along at my side like a shadow. So I ignored him, walking faster and faster until I was breathing hard. I hoped he was too, but he never asked me to slow down or call an ambulance or anything. He just kept up.
After ten long minutes, as I huffed and puffed and wondered how to shake Alex off my tail, he finally spoke. “What do you think of Fargo?”
“You asked me that this morning.”
“That’s right.” He paused. “You like to walk?”
No, I’d rather run, especially since Alex’s long legs didn’t seem to find my pace much of a challenge. “I don’t play as many sports anymore, and I like to exercise.”
“You played in high school?”
“Basketball and tennis, mostly, plus soccer and skiing and golf and pretty much every other sport.”
“But you didn’t want to do that in college.”
It didn’t fit with the rest of my plans, and I had to be practical. Something Alex wouldn’t understand. “I picked a tough major, and I knew I wouldn’t have the time.”
“Have you ever been to New York?”
“Another question you basically asked this morning. What’s up, Alex? You’re a little young for dementia.” I gave him a sideways glance. “If I’d gone there with Jane, maybe we would’ve run into Charlie and the rest of you guys.”
He frowned and didn’t say anything more, and I couldn’t get a handle on him. Luckily, that wasn’t my job in life.
We finally reached Mrs. Parks’s house. I was winded from walking at such a fast pace, and my heart was hammering, and he didn’t look like he’d moved a muscle. Irritating twerp.
Thank God I was heading home tomorrow.
We ran into Patrick in the front hall. Silent, Alex finally gave me a weird look, then headed upstairs.
I was a bit pissed, even if I had no right to be. But why did fate keep whacking me like this? After enduring a weird long walk with Alex, I was too tired to pretend I wanted to take another walk. Even with Patrick.
He didn’t seem to notice. “I just got back from walking through the park, hoping I’d run into you.” He grinned. “Just to make sure you hadn’t sprained an ankle.”
I pulled up the legs of my sweatpants. “Both ankles are intact, but it’s sweet of you to care.”
He gave me a jaunty salute. “Just doing my duty, ma’am. But can I talk you into another walk?”
“Uh...” I wanted to spend time with Patrick, but I wasn’t sure my legs could handle another beating.
“I’ll carry you if I have to.”
“Ha.” I rolled my eyes, even though the thought of Patrick carrying me anywhere gave me goosebumps. “Thanks, but I guess I can manage it.”
He led me outside. “Want to head for the park?”
I looked up at h
is bright blue eyes, which always twinkled as if he had the most fabulous secret. “It’ll be my second time there today.” I gulped and said what I was thinking, hoping I didn’t sound like a twit. “Sorry I missed you before.”
“Me, too.” He glanced down at my hand, almost as if he wanted to grab it, but then his eyes went to the horizon. “I guess we should’ve made a date of it.”
I gulped again. “Maybe next time.”
“Except we’re both leaving tomorrow, right?” When I nodded, he continued. “Our flight isn’t until late tomorrow afternoon, but I heard you were driving home after church.”
Dang. It seemed like such a great plan at the time. I shrugged, hoping I looked sorry but not desperate. “It takes four hours. At least when someone else is driving.”
Patrick grinned. “Fast driver, huh? No shock there.”
We reached the corner and waited for a beat-up red pickup truck to cruise by. After crossing the street, I looked at him. “Are you and Alex both headed to the same place? You said you lived in Washington, D.C.”
“I do, but I wanted to fly back with him and stay for a few days. His dad is—”
“—a busy guy, I’ll bet.” I didn’t want to let Patrick know just how much I’d learned about Alex and his dad on my Google search. It made me look way too much like my mom. “What do you guys do together? Alex doesn’t actually break down and speak, does he?”
Patrick roared with laughter. “You’re so tough on Alex.”
“I do what I can.” I laughed with Patrick, but I also wanted to hear more about Alex. He was so different from Patrick. Actually, Alex and Charlie were both a big puzzle to me now. “Do you know Charlie Bingham?”
Patrick nodded. “Charlie is a good friend of Alex’s.”
As I walked along, silently matching Patrick’s steps, I wished Charlie and Alex weren’t so close. It hadn’t done much for Jane’s love life. “Alex almost acts like Charlie’s dad, the way he watches over him.”
“That’s just how Alex is. Especially when it comes to rescuing friends from, you know, certain types.” Patrick slapped his forehead. “Geez! Sorry. It might’ve been someone they met in Minnesota, and you might know her.”