by Diann Hunt
“Yeah, and I never did a thing with that real estate license. But look at you, selling big homes,” Mom says.
“Well, I’m not actually selling homes. Remember? I work in com-mercial real estate these days.”
Mom waves her hand. “Oh, I don’t understand all that stuff now. It’s been too long.”
The conversation moves on, and Russ talks to me in hushed tones. “Work has been crazy for the past couple of days.”
“A surge of cavities, huh?” I tease.
He laughs. “Don’t know if Daniel told you I called, but I did check on your dad.”
“Thank you for that,” I say, wondering why he didn’t talk to me about it.
“I had a good talk with myself about moving too fast with you, so that’s why I didn’t call you about it.”
His comment causes me to choke. Seems I do that a lot—especially when Russ is around.
“You okay?” He asks while he whaps me between the shoulder blades.
“Yeah.” I reach for my iced tea and take a drink.
“Anyway, I’ll try to be patient.” He reaches for a piece of garlic bread and flashes a wide grin. “We need to work on my house plans some more.” He looks me in the eyes. “Well, when you have time.”
Oh, I have time for you, baby. Wait! Did I say that out loud?
A gasp lodges in my throat.
“Still choked?” he asks, raising his hand to whap my back again.
“No, no, I’m fine.” It’s true. I am fine. And looking at his blue eyes right now, I decide I’ve never been more fine. Really fine.
twenty-one
“Okay if I put on some old records?” Janni asks after dinner while Russ and I work side by side on the sofa, sketching out his dream home. Daniel and Stephanie step into the room and join us.
“Sure,” I say, feathering my pencil across the paper as I draw up the space for the master bedroom.
“I’m glad you’re here, Charley,” Russ whispers into my hair, stopping my pulse.
Thoughts of Peter flash through my mind—though I must say his face is a little blurry—and I realize I have to deal with all of this, but for now I just want to enjoy my time with my family and, well, Russ Benson.
“So you say you want a balcony off the master bedroom?”
He grins and nods.
“I take it you have a lot with a view?”
He nods again. “Near the lakeshore.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Wow, that’s nice.”
“Yeah, I’ve been keeping my eye on that lot. Dad knew the guy was thinking of selling, so I asked him to let me know when he decided to do it. He did, and I bought it the day it became available. Never even made it to a Realtor. Sorry.”
“Hey, whatever works.” I smile. “So you’re definitely building.” Okay, my ego deflates a tad here. I thought he was using this whole building thing as a means to spend time with me.
He gives me a “well, duh” look and says, “That would explain the drawing.”
“Oh, yeah, the drawing.”
His eyes crinkle with amusement, and now my ego surfaces with the idea that he trusts me with so great a project. Time to get serious about the sketching.
“I’ll take you over to the see the lot sometime.”
“I’d like that.” Clearing my throat, I break free from his gaze. “Okay, so, a balcony off your master bedroom overlooking the lake?”
“Probably sounds crazy because most people want to see the lake from the front of their house, but when I’m in the front of the house, I’m usually busy and wouldn’t notice the lake anyway. When I’m in the bedroom, I have time to relax and enjoy.”
His words melt over me like syrup on hotcakes, and I give an in-voluntary shiver. “Sounds like a plan.”
“I thought a patio out back with a view of the lake would be good too.”
“Good idea.” My pencil sweeps across the page as he explains his ideas, and I try to get them in tangible form. “So you like the open floor plan, right?”
“Yeah.” He rubs his chin. “How about a small porch on the front?”
“Sounds good.” More pencil strokes. “With pillars and white picket-type rails.”
“I’ll leave that stuff to you. All I know is I want spacious and a balcony with a view.”
“This will be great, Russ.” I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed drawing up house plans and working on general real estate.
“Thanks.” He squeezes my arm, I suppose, from the sheer excite-ment of getting a new place.
“How about you and Russ pick out some songs you like,” Janni says, handing us the stack of records. She pulls out her Sudoku puzzle magazine.
Placing my sketchbook aside, Russ and I finger through the records, picking a variety from Chicago, Jackson 5, Donny Osmond, Carpenters, and other oldies-but-goodies.
Seeing Janni engrossed in her Sudoku, I start to get up.
“Let me put those on for you.” Russ walks over and starts the first record.
The minute the music to “Sugar, Sugar” starts playing, my mind zips back to the school rec room where a bunch of us girls met before the school bell rang the start of a new day. We’d play records from the jukebox and sing along. This was one of the songs we played over and over. Even worked out a few choreographic steps, if I remember right. A sliver of bravery comes over me, so I get up and sway with the music. Reverting to my junior-high days, I throw in some arm thrusts, twirls, and leg kicks, causing Janni to look up in surprise. Russ joins the fun and soon punches the air with his fists in awkward movements that make me laugh so hard I’m afraid I’ll join Janni with the hyena thing.
When we finish, everyone claps. Then Daniel gets up and pulls out the Three Dog Night song “Joy to the World.” Okay, Russ may not be Fred Astaire, but Daniel’s movements remind me of Baloo in Jungle Book.
Next, Stephanie picks out a song and plays it. The opening line of Helen Reddy singing “You and Me Against the World” squeezes my heart. Tears fill Steph’s eyes, but she smiles, so I doubt anyone even notices but me. Tears sting the backs of my own eyes and threaten to spill over.
Stephanie wants a relationship with Janni so desperately. I can only imagine how it would feel to have a child love me that way. She’s afraid telling Janni will change everything, and she won’t get a chance to truly get to know her biological mother. But Stephanie needs to know the truth so she can move on in her search.
After the record fun, Janni points out that Wiggles hasn’t been out of his cage all day.
“Oh no, I’m outta here.” I make a beeline for the living room.
“Don’t be such a wimp, Char. Sit down. Wiggles needs to get to know you. He won’t hurt you if you’re sitting in a chair. Just don’t move.”
“Oh, fun.”
“Come on, Charley,” Russ says, flashing his infamous grin. “Wiggles doesn’t know me either. Sit by me, I’ll protect you.”
Okay, I’m liking the sound of that.
Daniel laughs, walks over to Wiggles’s cage and opens the door. The curious squirrel hops off his perch onto the door of his cage, then takes the next step to freedom.
With skittish movements, he ambles over to Daniel and jumps up on the ottoman in front of him. “We know what you want.” Daniel reaches down beside his chair and pulls out a sack full of sunflower seeds. Pouring some into his hand, Daniel feeds Wiggles one seed at a time. Sitting on his hind legs, the squirrel splits the shells off, then nibbles away at the meat of the seed.
“Well, will you look at that,” Russ says. “It’s amazing to me that he doesn’t try to get away. You know, with the call of nature in his blood, you’d think his natural instinct would be to escape outside.”
“Why should he? He has everything he needs right here, and he’s protected,” Janni says.
“Still, it’s not his true home.”
Russ’s words zing me. All this talk about home makes me want to watch The Wizard of Oz.
Over the next half hour, Wiggles enterta
ins us with his little antics, but I’m relieved when Janni finally puts him back in his cage.
“I’m surprised he goes so willingly,” I say, watching the squirrel run back to his cage at Janni’s insistence, hop on his perch, and crack open another sunflower seed.
“As I said, it’s his safe place.”
Which would explain why I want to stay in Maine.
Russ turns to me. “Hey, want to run with me to the coffee shop?”
“Is it still open?”
“It’s only ten o’clock. They’re open for another hour.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” I grab my coat and drape it over my arm as we head for the door.
“That was fun. I haven’t exercised that much in years,” Russ says, sliding into the leather driver’s seat in his Lexus. One look at his firm self makes me question the truth of his statement.
“Yeah, it was fun.” Flipping the visor down, I turn on the makeup mirror light and adjust my makeup. I’m surprised I have the nerve, but one look at my face tells me I’ve done the right thing.
“You don’t need that stuff. You look beautiful just the way you are,” he says.
“Please don’t tell me your last eye exam was in 1982.” My ego is hanging by a thread.
“Nope. Just had an eye exam six months ago.”
“Works for me.” I brush on a dab of lipstick and flip the visor back in place. Russ’s laugh warms me clear through.
“It’s great to be back home. The military was good to my wife and me, and we loved the travel, but my heart was always here. Guess I’m a small-town kind of guy.”
I give him a hard appraisal. He doesn’t at all look the small-town type, but there it is.
“Funny, I would picture you more at home in the hub of a big, noisy city.”
“Then you’ve got me pegged all wrong.” He turns off the classical music on the radio as though this is a serious discussion. “Not that I don’t enjoy the big city, I do. It’s just not where I want to live. Give me quiet evenings on a porch swing among the sounds of crickets and locusts. A lazy afternoon fishing down at the stream.” He turns to me, eyes twinkling. “I love the simple things in life.”
“And teeth. Don’t forget teeth.”
“Right. I love teeth.” He laughs. “You’re still doing okay with that job I did on you the other night?”
“Good as new.”
“Great.” He pulls his car into the parking lot and kills the engine.
Before I can sneak on more lipstick, he dashes around to my side of the car, opens the door, and takes my hand to help me out.
“Okay, I could get spoiled if you keep this up.”
He pulls me up until my face is right next to his. “That’s the idea,” he says with a husky voice that rattles my constitution.
His fingers reach up and brush a strand of hair from my forehead. My skin tingles beneath his touch as his head dips toward me, lips touching mine so briefly I wonder if I imagined it. Then with another tug, he pulls me a little closer and this time kisses me with enough force to give me a glimpse of the passion that burns within him, but easing up to show that he promises to keep things in line.
Leaving me dazed, he pulls away slowly, gives me a grin, and puts his arm at my back as we head for the door of the coffee shop. It’s a good thing he’s guiding me, or I’d pull the Tipsy thing and faint straight up.
Once we get our drinks, we find a table and settle in.
“So, tell me about this Peter guy.”
“Whoa, you don’t waste any time, do you?” I laugh at his boldness.
Russ grins. “It never hurts to know the competition.”
There’s that word again. I attempt to lift my eyebrow in a seductive, Betty Grable sort of way. “Oh, really?”
“Really,” he says, slurping the whipped cream off his frappuccino, and thus confirming that I should leave the Betty Grable look to, well, Betty Grable.
“Peter is a great friend. He owns the real estate company where I work. We’ve been seeing each other for six months.” I take a drink of my maple macchiato, but my eyes never leave his face. “But like I said, we’re just friends.”
“I see.” He swirls the straw around in his cup, stirring the remaining whipped cream into the mixture.
Why is it men can eat real whipped cream without gaining an ounce? In my book that mystery is right up there with the eight wonders of the world.
“Friends or not, six months is a long time,” he says, staring glumly into his frappuccino.
“It is?”
“Isn’t it?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“No serious plans on the horizon?”
“No.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“Did you minor in psychology? Am I on 20-20? Related to Barbara Walters?”
He laughs. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business. You don’t owe me any explanations.” He leans over the table toward me, and his hand covers mine. “But I care about you and guess I wanted to know if you feel the same way.”
Oh, believe me, babe, I’m feeling it.
Why is it my tongue refuses to move at times like these? It just flat out will not move. Not even the slightest twitch. It’s like an obese snail on sedatives.
A wounded shadow flickers in Russ’s eyes. “Oh, I get it.” He takes his hand from mine and leans back in his chair. “I’ve let my assumptions get away from me.”
“No, no, it’s not that.” I reach for him now. “I’m just not sure about anything since I’ve been back here, Russ. I mean, I like you. I really do. Peter is a great friend, but we’ve never been really serious in that way. Just comfortable with one another more than anything. Does that make sense?”
He nods. “And he’s okay with that? To leave it there, I mean?”
Remembering my earlier conversation with Peter, now I’m not so sure. “He has been.” Up to now. “It’s just that, well, you live here, and I live in Maine. It’s hard to have a long-distance relationship.”
“Hard, but not impossible.”
I smile at his determination.
We carry on with surface conversation after that, and Russ takes me home. Once there, he opens my car door and walks me to the front porch.
“Glad to know I’m still in the running,” he says, his lips mere inches from mine. His arms wrap around me and pull me to him as though I’m something fragile that could easily break. Guess he’s figured me out. He leans forward and tenderly kisses me again. Then again. Then once more. My teenage years come back in a flurry—my first kiss with Eddie, the thrill of his touch, the wonderment of knowing I was the one he had chosen to share this moment with. Only this isn’t Eddie. This is Russ. And the excitement is more intense, even painful—because those feelings are supposed to be dead and buried. Stamped out. Never to return. But they’re not dead. They’re back. In full force. And to make matters worse? They’re all grown up.
I pull away. “Good night, Russ.”
His eyes are glazed, his breath shallow. “See you, Charley.” His thumb traces the side of my face, causing my cheeks to burn.
As I watch him walk away, my heart twists and my stomach churns. Okay, I knew coming home would be complicated, helping with the syrup and party planning while trying to maintain my life back in Maine. But it was also an opportunity to show my family how I’ve changed. “Charlene Haverford moves beyond her past to face the future.”
Yeah, right.
“Char, get up! The condo next to Mom and Dad’s place is burning!” My eyelids blink open, and I find Janni staring over me in my room. Seems my family enjoys startling people first thing in the morning.
“What?” I rub my eyes, wondering if I heard her right.
“The condo next to Mom and Dad’s is burning.”
Whipping off the covers, I jump out of bed and slip on my robe. “How do you know?”
“Someone from the fire department just called.”
“How bad is it?”
“The fireman said they were able to contain it, and it didn’t do much damage to Mom and Dad’s place. It started in the building next to theirs and they were able to put it out before it did substantial damage to Mom and Dad’s building. There is some minor smoke damage that needs to be fixed, though, and he said they wouldn’t be able to move back in for a week or two.” Janni heads for the door. “Daniel’s working with the others on the sap, but I’m going over to Mom and Dad’s place to check on things for them.”
“Let me get dressed, and I’ll go with you,” I say, already pulling off my robe and heading toward the dresser.
“Okay, I’ll wait. Come downstairs when you’re ready.” With that Janni turns, and I hear her feet dash across the hardwood and down the stairs.
I get dressed in record time and meet Janni in the living room.
Mom’s face is lined with new wrinkles. She wrings her hands together and looks up when I come downstairs. “We want to go with you.”
“Mom, let us check things out first, then we’ll take you over. It’s hard to say what we’ll find right now,” I say.
“Milton, tell them we’re going.”
Dad walks over and puts his hand on Mom’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Viney. They might be right. The more people that congregate there, the more confusion there will be. We’ll just get in the way of the workers.”
Mom’s shoulders slump, and her eyes droop.
“It will be okay, Mom,” I say, giving her a hug. “We’ll be back shortly and let you know what’s going on there.”
She says nothing, merely nods.
Dad still looks weak from the surgery, but he’s holding his own. “Thanks for checking on things for us, girls.”
It breaks my heart to see them looking so—so vulnerable. I haven’t realized until this moment just how old they are getting. It’s as though I’ve been looking through a shadowy glass and now I’m seeing clearly. I don’t want to face the truth that I might one day lose them. Mom and I have our differences, but I love her fiercely.
“Wish I could go with you,” Daniel says, before giving Janni a kiss good-bye. “Call me and let me know how everything is.”