Package Deal

by Chris Chegri

  She expected the movers any minute, and in desperate need of a few minutes rest, Kelly crashed on the floor, limbs spread out, a pillow tucked under her weary head. Exhausted, her flesh sagged into the carpet and her breathing slowed. Upon entering the house, she’d noticed the insecticide odor, but now, with her face so close to the floor, it smelled strong.

  Stacks of boxes, bags, and games from the car surrounded her, all requiring rearranging before the movers arrived. Later. She dreaded the arrival of the van. She was too tired to lift a finger. Unless the movers knew how to revive a comatose patient, they were in big trouble. They would just have to move her stuff in around her, because if they showed up now, she wasn't budging.

  “Thank you, God,” she mumbled, feeling consciousness slip away in spite of the animated and slightly annoying voices on TV.

  Settling down beside her mother, Lacy opened a puzzle and sorted the pieces, spreading them out in front of her. She poked Kelly on the arm. “Mom, wanna help?”

  Kelly replied without opening her eyes. “Dead people can’t do puzzles, honey.”

  Lacy got up and stood over her, straddling Kelly’s waist. “Mommy?”

  Kelly didn’t answer, so Lacy leaned over and pressed her face up close to Kelly’s. Not so gently, she lifted one of Kelly’s eyelids.

  “Are you in there, Mom?”

  Kelly’s eyes flew open, startling Lacy into excited laughter. Kelly grabbed her and tickled her until she crumpled to the floor, crying with delight and begging her to stop. Kelly pulled her into her arms and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Where do you get all your energy, sweetie?”

  Lacy patted her tummy. “From ice cream.”

  “Really? Then I’m in desperate need of a large bowl of ice cream.”

  “Me, too.” Lacy jumped up, tugging on Kelly.

  With an exaggerated groan, Kelly stood and gave Lacy a kiss on the head, wishing she could absorb some of her daughter’s energy through osmosis.

  “You finish your puzzle, while I scoop the ice cream. First I’m going to open some of these windows and air out this place. The bug spray smells horrible.”

  Lacy pinched her nostrils together, and her face scrunched up in disgust. “Yeah, it’s stinky. I hope the bugs don’t like it.”

  So did Kelly.

  After she opened several windows and a nice cross-breeze blew through the house, Kelly returned to the kitchen, took the ice cream carton from the freezer, and rummaged in the grocery bags for a package of paper bowls. She dropped the scoop when Lacy screamed and dashed into the living room in three long strides. To her relief, Lacy remained whole.

  “What have I told you about screaming, young lady?” Kelly pressed her hand to her pounding heart. “You scared me to death.”

  “Skunk’s lost!”

  “Lost? Lacy, there’s no furniture. There’s nothing for him to get lost behind except bags and boxes.”

  Kelly was soon chewing on her own words. The rodent darted out from between two boxes and scurried up the hallway toward the bedrooms. After chasing him for fifteen minutes, Kelly stopped, hands on her knees, struggling to catch her breath.

  “Man these things have moves the NFL pros only dream of,” she wheezed. “Which explains why they invented the darn traps in the first place. I’m bushed, Lace.”

  “Come on, Mommy,” Lacy yelled. “He’s getting away!”

  The chase was on again. Despite her legs being twice as long as her six-year-old daughter’s, Kelly had no more success trapping Skunk than Lacy did. Both of them were pooped, but Skunk had gotten his second wind.

  The doorbell rang, and Kelly rolled her eyes. “Murphy’s law.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The movers had finally arrived, and the timing couldn’t have been worse. Kelly took a deep breath and prepared for the hard labor to follow, thinking a week in Siberia would be preferable to unpacking twenty-seven years of indispensable junk tonight. Disheartened and weary, she shuffled across the room and answered the door. To her surprise, Steve McCarthy gave her a big smile.

  Her hand flew to her messy hair. “Hey, Steve! I thought you were the movers.”

  Despite the “harmless” kiss, she’d convinced herself—after talking with Jill—it might be a bad idea to see him again until she decided if she wanted to take the risk.

  “What a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Hi, Pearson! Welcome back. I dropped by to see if everything’s okay with the house. I remembered you were a snacker and brought some ice cream.” He held up a grocery bag.

  Kelly grinned, fighting an uncontrollable rush of pleasure at the sight of him. She found it weird, yet somehow comforting, the way he used her last name, as if they’d known each other for years, grown up together. Jill did it, too, sometimes.

  “Thanks for the concern,” she told him, adding, “McCarthy.”

  Steve’s incredible green eyes twinkled.

  “I was just fixing ice cream.”

  The door standing open, Steve peered around the small living room. “Looks a little different without the trash. Still think it’s cute?”

  Kelly knew he was just being nice. The room was crammed with her trash. Self-conscious about her appearance, she brushed at the wrinkles in her blouse. “I love it. No furniture yet, as you can see. The van hasn’t arrived. Matter of fact, I’m expecting them any minute.”

  “Mommy, Mommy! Hurry!” Lacy’s voice was shrill with panic. “He’s under the dishwasher now!”

  “Big emergency,” Kelly explained. “We’ve got a rodent on the loose.”

  Alarmed, Steve responded, “In the house? They didn’t exterminate before you moved in?”

  “Yes, they did. Can’t you smell it? The insecticide smells awful.”

  Steve sniffed the air. “Yeah, but they should have checked for rodents, too.”

  “Oh, the loose rodent is a pet rat," Kelly added.

  Steve’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Kelly said. “That I’m weird, since most females are terrified of anything with four legs, buck teeth, and a long pink tail.”

  “You read my mind.”

  “Actually—”

  Lacy’s squeal bounced off the walls, startling Steve and Kelly. Leaving Steve dangling just inside the front door, Kelly swung around and charged back into the kitchen.

  “Come on in,” she called over her shoulder.

  Kelly dropped down on her knees, her backside thrust into the air. She couldn’t see under the dishwasher. It was dark, and she worried a water bug might evacuate right up her nose.

  “Need some help?” Steve offered from the doorway.

  She looked up and caught him dragging his gaze from her rear end. She laughed to herself, feeling flattered. Men. They’re so predictable.

  Lacy popped up from where she crouched on the floor beside Kelly. “Can you get Skunk out, mister?” she asked in a high, distressed voice, her eyes entreating.

  Kelly sat back on her heels. “Lacy, this is Mr. McCarthy. He’s the nice man who helped me find this house.”

  Placing the bag on the counter, Steve offered Lacy his hand. “Hi, Lacy.”

  When she accepted, Kelly didn’t miss the pleased expression on her daughter’s face. Lacy took to people with ease, but there was something deeper going on here. Kelly could see it. Like herself, her daughter was captivated by the tall, handsome, green-eyed stranger.

  “Will you help us get Skunk? He’s really scared. He doesn’t know his way around this house.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can do.”

  He dropped down onto his knees beside Kelly. Lacy copied him. He pried off the lower front panel of the dishwasher, and all three of them pressed ears to the floor and peered into the narrow space. Skunk, sitting back on his haunches cleaning dust balls off his back, twisted around and stared at them, completely unaffected by the whole affair.

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” Steve said. “Lacy, you
sit right here.” He moved her in front of the dishwasher. “Put one leg on this side and the other leg over on this other side. When he runs out, grab him. Think you can you do that?”

  Lacy nodded, looking pleased Steve trusted her with the rescue task.

  He winked at Kelly and whispered, “You play back up.”

  Kelly caught on and positioned herself behind Lacy, poised and ready for action.

  “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  The sound of the front door creaking open then slamming shut a few moments later drew mystified looks from mother and daughter. Steve returned swinging a crowbar and a flashlight. Kelly eyed the equipment skeptically.

  Lacy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to hurt Skunk, are you, mister?”

  “Mr. McCarthy,” Kelly reminded her.

  He bent over, meeting Lacy at eye level. “Absolutely not. I promise.”

  He knelt down beside them again, turned the flashlight on, and slid the crow bar into the space along the right side of the dishwasher. “Ready?”

  “Yes, sir,” Lacy said, her voice filled with excitement.

  Kelly stifled a laugh.

  With a swift movement, Steve swept the crow bar. The rat darted straight into Lacy’s open legs. She whisked Skunk up and held him tight against her chest, giving him an affectionate rub with her fingertips to still his trembling.

  Steve watched, his face thoughtful.

  “We’re going to have to cover him until things settle down here,” Kelly told Lacy, placing Skunk back in his tank in the living room. “This is too confusing for him right now.”

  “But Mommy—”

  “Just until our belongings arrive, and your room is put together. It’s not fair to Skunk.”

  Lacy agreed, albeit with reluctance.

  Steve topped the tank with a piece of cardboard he’d punched full of air holes, and Kelly added a book from her suitcase to ensure the cover didn’t come off.

  Excitement over, Kelly finished scooping ice cream, and smothered three mounds with fudge topping. They sat cross-legged in the middle of the messy living room and savored every last bite while waiting for the moving truck to arrive.

  Time ticked by, Steve’s eyes darting now and then to the television. They talked, while Lacy worked her puzzle. Only after Steve had revealed the details of his divorce, his career, and his latest NASA project did Kelly yawn and check her watch.

  “Bored with my story, huh?”

  “Not at all. Actually, it’s refreshing to find a man who can talk about things affecting his life.”

  ***

  Steve had passed the pop quiz. He figured maybe next time she might open up and tell him a little about herself. He hoped so anyway.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “It’s already past ten,” Kelly told him. “I don’t think the movers are going to show tonight. At this point, I hope not. I’m too tired to move, no pun intended.”

  They both glanced over at Lacy, who’d given up hours ago and now lay curled up on an old comforter in the middle of her puzzle pieces.

  Both child and mother needed a good night’s rest. Lacy would sleep all night, but Steve worried about Kelly. She was pale, and rings of exhaustion circled dull blue eyes. The crumpled Steak ‘n’ Shake bag caught Steve’s eye, confirming at least they’d eaten something other than ice cream. He knew the last few weeks had taken their toll, and what the lady and her kid needed were a few nights of sound, undisturbed sleep and something nutritious to eat.

  “Look, Lacy is exhausted, and if you don’t mind my saying so,” he prepared for a reenactment of Mt. McKinley, “you look pretty beat yourself. Why don’t you pack a bag for the two of you and come stay at my place for the night?”

  Kelly broke eye contact.

  “Come on. I have three bedrooms, plenty of room.”

  “No. Thanks though.”

  Steve figured she would be stubborn.” Kelly, I honestly think you and Lacy deserve more than the floor tonight. The insecticide smell is pretty strong. You could both be pickled by morning.”

  He hoped he wasn’t pushing her too hard. “I won’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about. The bedrooms have locks on the doors, and you and Lacy can sleep together. What do you say?”

  Something paternal vibrated inside him, a little painful, a little pleasant. Lacy was sound asleep, curled in the fetal position with the corner of an old blanket in one hand—no doubt a habit from infancy. Her dark ringlets were dampened by sleep’s warmth, and her cheeks glowed pink. He knew she was oblivious to any discomfort and would sleep through the night. Still, she deserved better. So did her mom.

  ***

  Kelly was so tired she could have fallen asleep on a bed of hot coals, and although her maternal instinct was strong, telling her Steve might be right, still she resisted his advice. She was comfortable with him, too comfortable, and she found her attraction to him made it difficult to occupy the same room with him, much less spend the night in the same house. She needed to watch her step. Besides, if she hadn’t dragged his luggage off the conveyor, she would never have met him in the first place and would be sleeping on the floor tonight anyway.

  Steve was sweet and yes, the attraction between them was strong, but things were moving too fast. Besides, this was no time to start depending on others. Things might get messy, lock or no lock. She reminded herself she’d moved to Florida to simplify her life, not tangle it up. She wanted nothing more than a quiet life, and something told her, in a clear voice, to say no to Steve McCarthy—at least for now.

  “Thanks, Steve. Your offer is tempting, but really, we’re okay here. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “No inconvenience. I have the room.”

  “Thanks anyway. We’ll stay here.” She drew herself to her feet.

  “Your choice.” Steve accepted her decision with grace, but his gaze darted back to Lacy, concern altering his handsome features.

  “Seriously, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “If you change your mind, call me.” He dug in his pocket and handed her two quarters. “For a pay phone. There’s one at the top of the street at the convenience store.”

  She glanced down at the coins in her palm and laughed. “I don’t need these. I’ve got a cell.”

  His green eyes twinkled. “Yeah, but do you know where the charger is?”

  Clueless, she scanned the room. They both laughed.

  She tucked the coins in her pocket. “Okay. I’ll hang on to these, just in case.” She squared her shoulders with her usual air of independence.

  “Okay. I’m leaving. I’ll stop by tomorrow and give you a hand with the movers.”

  If she was as tired tomorrow night as she was right now, she’d need all the help she could get. She was proud, but she wasn’t stupid.

  “If you’re sure you can spare the time, I would appreciate some help. Thanks, Steve. See you tomorrow.” Kelly locked the door behind him, wanting him to leave, but feeling empty once he was gone.

  Weary, she turned off all the lights in the house and rearranged Lacy on the comforter. She slipped off her clothes and lay down beside her daughter, pulling a blanket over them and draping one arm over Lacy’s narrow back. She closed her eyes and sank into the pillow, her nose burning from the insecticide saturating the carpet.

  She lay in the dark, pondering Steve’s unexpected appearance and the unsettling effect he had on her. She had tried to remain aloof, but her feelings for him had already gone past the safe stage. In her own defense, if she hadn’t been so exhausted she never would have agreed to his coming back tomorrow night. He seemed to have a talent for wheedling his way in, which was all the more reason to watch herself with Steve McCarthy.

  She rolled over on her back, his handsome face forming in her mind. So far, Steve McCarthy was a prince, her Prince Charming, her knight in shining armor. He seemed to show up whenever she needed help. Despite this, she knew
deep down, if she let him into her heart, even he wouldn’t always be there. Nothing was permanent, she reminded herself. Committing to a lifetime with another human being was a fairy tale. Things changed. So did people.

  The mantra, It was one harmless, little kiss, popped back into her head. “Well, it was!” she whispered into the night, wishing things were different. Wishing she was different.

  Warm moonlight filtered through the glass panes in the front door. Outside, the occasional croak of a tree toad broke the monotonous chirping of crickets. Princes and toads, she pondered, despite the lecture she’d just given herself. So far, this move had been no fairy tale.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The jalousie plates chattered in the front door, shattering Kelly’s dreams and waking her from a restless sleep. She sat up, groggy, disoriented. The glass chattered again—someone knocking. A man’s shadow flickered across the length of the frosted glass door. She struggled to her feet, her body stiff and inflexible from lying on the floor all night.

  Squinting at her watch—7:10 a.m., she said, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s Steve. Are you two still alive in there?”

  Oh no! Not now! Why was he here at seven in the morning? “Uh…just a minute.”

  She snatched up her clothes, climbed into them, and stumbled down the hall toward the bathroom. “Oh God,” she whimpered, peering into the mirror. She resembled a bit-part actor from Night of the Living Dead. Her throat was scratchy and sore, the texture of sandpaper.

  She leaned closer and opened her mouth. “Ah-h-h.”

  Her tonsils resembled two golf balls painted red, one stuck to either side of her throat. Great! She groaned. What next? Leprosy?

  She zipped her jeans and fumbled with the buttons on her blouse then gave her snarled hair a token swipe with a brush. She grimaced at herself in the mirror. She rummaged through her makeup bag for her toothbrush and came up empty. As a last resort, she squeezed some toothpaste on her tongue, swished it around, and dashed back to the front door to answer it.

  Steve sat on the stoop. With irony, she recalled last night’s thoughts before she’d fallen asleep. Princes and toads. Her reflection in the mirror just now had been undeniably toadish. Steve, as usual, looked fit for an audience with the queen. Ugh. She wanted to hate the guy.