Package Deal

by Chris Chegri

  “Mommy? What’s that ter’ble smell?”

  Kelly smiled at her daughter, whose nose wrinkled with disgust.

  “Pee-yoo! I’m not eating those.”

  “Neither am I,” Kelly said and laughed. “Mommy’s coming unglued. I almost burned our dinner.”

  Concern shadowed Lacy’s face. “So we can’t eat now? I’m hungry,” she whined.

  “I only burned the peas, honey. Everything else is ready.”

  Relieved, Lacy shrugged. “I hate peas anyway.” She ambled back to her bedroom to resume her play.

  In San Francisco, Kelly had often prepared meals for as many as twenty people and never burned a single roll. With her mother so far away, she and Jill had coordinated holiday meals, inviting friends and neighbors to share mounds of turkey and stuffing with all the trimmings. She had always enjoyed cooking and entertaining, and seemed a natural at it—until today, when those elaborate occasions seemed like someone else’s memories.

  Anticipating the worst, she opened the oven and peered inside. The roast was golden brown, cooked to perfection. She closed the door and leaned against the counter, gazing out the window past the smudge of raindrops.

  She’d invited a man to dinner. No little thing after being alone for six years. Beyond nervous, her stomach pitched and her temples throbbed. She was worried about everything—the meal, her appearance, Lacy’s behavior. Steve was due in ten minutes, and so far she had stubbed her toe, pulled out several eyelashes when her lash curler got stuck, and now she’d burned the peas. Not as she’d planned, but things could be worse. She laughed out loud, knowing she needed to mellow out. She’d wanted the evening to be perfect. She heaved a sigh, admitting life was never perfect. And that was okay.

  Outside, a steady rain fell from a leaden sky, tap dancing gently on the roof. Even though it wasn’t the Florida sunshine she’d expected, the gray day and the rich, satisfying smell of roast pork and baked rhubarb pie soothed her body and mind.

  Tonight was the first time in years Kelly had invited a man to dinner—no trivial occasion. The situation warranted a margarita just to bolster her courage enough to answer the door. Nerves, anticipation, sexual tension all played games with her mind and body. Her stomach churned while the memory of their kiss made her lightheaded.

  She removed the pitcher of frozen margaritas from the freezer, took a glass from the cabinet and filled it. Tossing her head back, she swallowed a continuous flow of the icy, alcoholic slush until she got a brain freeze.

  “Ow-w!” Dropping the glass to the counter, she pressed her hands to her temples. When the pain faded, she bent over giggling. She hadn’t done that to herself in years, not with a slushy or a Margarita. She wasn’t a big drinker of either.

  “Whew!” The concoction was a little strong. The tequila spread through her limbs with soothing warmth. Why was she so nervous? After all, it was only dinner. Right?

  Wrong.

  This was more than a casual dinner. She’d made a trip to the drugstore and come home with a small brown bag, the contents of which she’d stuffed under her pillow, just in case her heart won out over her head tonight.

  In the past week, her encounters with Steve had progressed until Thursday night’s collision. Last night, after the movie, she’d feigned exhaustion and asked him to leave, but she didn’t believe she could resist his charms much longer. Thus, the brown bag. She hadn’t let a man in her kitchen or her life since her divorce. She’d invited Steve into both, and she was doing her usual flip-flop routine today, like pulling daisy pedals. He loves me, he loves me not. I want him, I want him not. The difference tonight being she kept flipping back to Steve.

  Her thoughts flashed back to Thursday night when she and Steve had stood together at the front door, just moments after sharing a heated embrace cut short by her hesitancy. She had felt like a virgin again. Nervous, indecisive, filled with expectancy. She’d sensed he struggled with similar feelings—not his virginity of course. Time had seemed to hold still, their lips drawn toward one another’s as if they’d been chewing their way along a single piece of bubble gum strung between them. Almost adolescent. No sudden moves, just a slow magnetic pull tugging them closer, inch-by-inch until their lips met in a clash of sparks.

  How funny they must have looked. Despite an involuntary shiver, Kelly laughed out loud. Again, it was Steve who had broken the embrace, not her. He always seemed more in control than she was. All the more reason to be nervous now.

  Following her divorce, when the pain of separation had been fresh, she’d had no trouble remaining aloof and avoiding relationships. But as the pain had faded, a time when she might have been steered back into the flow of humanity, she’d resolved to keep her life simple, safe from loss and pain, and free of entanglement. It hadn’t seemed such a huge undertaking at the time.

  Now and then, she had dated. No fireworks, no messy entanglements, and no regrets. It seemed so simple. But now she realized she’d been living a fairy tale. She was no longer strong or resolved, but instead she was confused. Could she be in love? The thought scared her to death.

  She took another box of peas from the freezer. For a moment, the task of coordinating a simple meal of pork roast, sauerkraut, peas and mashed potatoes seemed overwhelming.

  She fired up her second attempt at peas and rushed back to her bedroom to change her clothes before Steve arrived. Just once, she wanted to look nice for him. Somehow, he always caught her semi-dressed at best, although it hadn’t seemed to deter him any. She wondered if he would even notice a difference tonight.

  Back in her bedroom, she stole a glimpse in the mirror. The swelling on her eyelid had gone down, the damage minimal with only a few lashes missing. She slipped into a pair of black leggings and a teal tunic draped softly at the neckline, finishing with a black belt and a dab of lotion at her elbows. A chuckle escaped her throat. She’d never given a damn about her elbows before. Feeling frivolous, she dabbed some behind her ears. The scent was unusual but not overpowering, a delicate sweet and spicy fragrance extracted from carnations. Almost impossible to find, Kelly had hoarded it for special occasions. Tonight fell into the special category.

  She rummaged through her jewelry box and selected a pair of silver earrings with a single turquoise stone in each, and a matching bracelet she’d bought on a writing assignment in Phoenix. Not wanting to appear over dressed for dinner in her own kitchen, she pulled on a pair of soft leather scuffs she wore around the house.

  While she checked her image in the mirror, examining the reflection for obvious flaws, the doorbell rang. Kelly froze, her pulse-rate jumped. God, she hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake. I should have consulted Waldo—her personal astrologist—before making any decisions.

  She had the crazy sensation she walked a tightrope, and if she answered the door to let him in, her life might change forever, following a new, uncharted course. A risky course. There were no guarantees, and she found that troubling. She could be in for more pain, another loss, and further disappointment. If she told him to leave, their attempt at a relationship had all been a mistake, she would be left alone, and her life would go on as before.

  The doorbell rang again, and Lacy yelled from the other room, “I’m getting it, Mommy!”

  “Mirror mirror on the wall…what do I feel?” In the mirror, her features creased with consternation. Jill! Her thoughts reached out to her friend on the opposite coast. What would Jill tell her? Three thousand miles between them and nothing came to mind. She spun away from the mirror, searching for an honest answer within herself, a simple statement that would put an end to all her conflict.

  I’m trying, Jill. I really am. Did it really matter if Steve ended up being a jerk? “Do I want Lacy to grow up thinking all men are undependable and unnecessary members of a female superior society?” It sounded pretty radical once she’d said it out loud.

  “Come on, Kelly. What’s really inside?” she whispered.

  Pulling the truth from down deep where she’d
stuffed it was no easy thing. Time was running out, and she would have to dig fast. Steve was already in the living room talking to Lacy.

  “No.” The word flew off her lips and with it, years of emotional barriers cracked and crumbled.

  Steve and Lacy’s laughter echoed from the other room, while Kelly worked up a cold sweat in front of the mirror.

  “All men are not the same.” She’d been protecting herself from pain all along. Jill had told her more than once that she was taking the risk-free way through life by avoiding men altogether.

  Well, self-preservation was fine, but she had Lacy to think about, and the reality of her recent feelings for Steve to face. Her interest in him was impossible to ignore, and Kelly wouldn’t let her fear control her daughter’s future, much less her own.

  She would give it a shot.

  Having made her decision, butterflies took flight in her stomach, reminding her of the first time she’d dropped two hundred dollars from savings on a game table in Vegas. People did it all the time, but she had been scared. Well…she’d won then. Maybe she would come out a winner this time.

  With a nervous swallow, she returned to the living room. “Lacy, have you kept Steve entertained?” She tried to appear calm, wishing in the back of her busy mind she had a candy cigarette to still the slow tremor rumbling inside.

  Steve sat on the couch. “I came bearing gifts.”

  While he showed Lacy the package he’d brought her, his gaze swept toward Kelly. The glow lighting his eyes told her he had noticed her efforts. It pleased her, further exciting her already jangled nerves.

  She recalled the second time she’d seen him. She’d been dragging his stupid suitcase across the airport lobby when she’d spotted him. His eyes had lit up, and at the time, they’d reminded her of green traffic signals. Then, she’d kept walking, but now she gave him the signal to go. She smiled and moved to the couch to stand beside him.

  “You look great as usual, McCarthy.”

  “Compliment returned, Pearson.”

  She grinned, her heart knocking against her breastbone. His smile disarmed her. She’d seen faces like his on the cover of GQ magazine, but it had been a long time since she’d had a handsome man in her living room.

  “Everyone rested and healthy?” he asked.

  “We’re great,” she said.

  Taking her hand, Steve tugged her down beside him and nuzzled her neck. “Something smells good.”

  Obviously, the last couple of nights had affected him, too. “Dinner,” she told him.

  “Oh.” He feigned disappointment. “I thought it was you.”

  She pushed him away playfully. “I hope you’re into simple home cooking because I’ve been dying for plain old mashed potatoes. I’ve swallowed enough junk food in the last few weeks to open my own fast food restaurant.”

  “I love junk food.” Lacy sounded insulted.

  “I do, too, honey.” She winked at Steve and stood up. “But not three times a day. Are you guys hungry?”

  Lacy and Steve nodded.

  “Can I open my gift?” Lacy clutched Steve’s present in her arms.

  “After we eat.” Kelly arched one eyebrow—a mother’s best asset.

  “Okay.” Lacy laid the box on the coffee table and climbed off the couch, her disappointment obvious. “Steve’s nice, huh, Mom?”

  “Yes, he is, so you better treat him extra special. Do you know what I mean?” Kelly shot Lacy a warning glance.

  Lacy froze mid step. “What?” She looked up at her mom.

  Kelly whispered, “No rat at the table tonight.”

  Lacy pouted.

  Steve leaned into Kelly. “You mean the rat eats with you two?”

  “Occasionally. We’ll make an exception tonight for your sake.”

  Steve considered her remark. “This is some personable rat!”

  “Actually, he sits to one side and accepts handouts. He’s very well-mannered and cleaner than most humans. Lacy takes him in the bathtub with her every night.”

  “You don’t have to defend the rat to me,” Steve assured her. “Although I’m slightly amazed. I had a pet rat when I was a kid, and I loved the darn little guy, about as much as you two love Skunk. My mother, however, wasn’t nearly as understanding. It was one issue I could never sweet-talk her on. Buster was forced to spend his entire existence in my bedroom in a wire cage. Mom’s a lot older now and a little mellower. She might take more kindly to Skunk than she did to Buster.”

  Lacy hadn’t moved an inch since Kelly’s banishment of Skunk from the dinner table. Sensing the issue might be up for negotiation, she waited for the discussion to end.

  “Lacy?” Kelly’s voice rose with irritation.

  Lacy pulled her whiskered friend from her pocket.

  Steve jerked with surprise, apparently unaware that the rat was lurking so close.

  Lacy shot Steve a disappointed look and padded into her room to ground Skunk to his tank during dinner—a painful, parental act for such a small child.

  Steve gave a chuckle of amusement. “God, now I feel like a rat! I can’t believe you two.”

  Kelly laughed at him. “She’ll get over it.”

  He pulled her into the kitchen. “I brought something for you.”

  Kelly spotted the vase overflowing with pink carnations. “Oh, Steve. They’re my favorite. Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

  “You wouldn’t let me bring anything else. I did, however, bring a couple bottles of wine.”

  “I have margaritas in the freezer, too.” It could be an interesting evening. “How are you at slicing a roast?”

  “Not particularly talented, but adequate.”

  “You’re hired. Can you start right away?”

  After hearing the sordid details of the burned peas from Lacy, the three of them settled at the kitchen table, plates piled high with Lacy’s favorite meal—all but the sauerkraut. Steve opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, while Kelly—without hesitation—started eating, savoring every bite and making yummy sounds.

  Steve and Lacy shared a glance.

  He laughed. “If I’d known you were starving, I would have cooked you a meal a week ago.”

  Kelly stopped eating and looked up. Steve and Lacy grinned at her. She laid her fork on the table and said, “Gee, I’m sorry. How rude of me, stuffing food in my mouth as if I hadn’t eaten in days.”

  “Not a problem, but now I feel guilty,” Steve said with a grin. “Guess I should have catered some meals for you two instead of showing up with bagged breakfast food.”

  Embarrassed, Kelly stopped eating. “Don’t apologize for anything, Steve. You saved us from starvation. I forgot my manners. I just couldn’t wait to taste something right off the stove. This past week has been a lot like camping. You know…the fast food and lawn chairs and the yearning to sleep in your own bed?”

  “So how was your own bed?”

  “Beyond all earthly description.” She thought he squirmed, no doubt his imagination running wild like hers, because he choked on his first bite of pork roast and reached for his water glass.

  “I’ll bet it felt pretty good after two nights on a lawn chair. Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.”

  “I doubt it.” She cut Lacy’s meat.

  “Well then, you deserve every bruise you have. I should be insulted. That’s the first time a woman preferred a lawn chair to my bed. This is very bad for my ego.”

  Kelly’s gaze flashed across the table to Lacy, and Steve’s hand flew to his mouth. “Sorry.” He eyed Lacy, who still wasn’t talking to either of them.

  Kelly laughed and filled his wineglass. “I’d rather not hear the details of your previous conquests. Here, have some more wine. I’m sure it’ll soothe your ailing ego.”

  By the time they’d finished eating, the drizzle outside had stopped. Kelly cleaned Lacy up and handed her over to Steve to entertain for a few minutes while she scraped and stacked dishes and stored leftovers in the fridge. Sounds of Lacy tear
ing the wrapping paper from her present reached the kitchen.

  “Yay! Monopoly! Let’s play Monopoly.”

  “Would you be interested in a boat ride instead? I thought you and your mom might enjoy some fresh air after being cooped up all day. The rain has stopped.”

  “In a real boat?” Lacy asked in a small, awed voice.

  “Sure, a real one. What other kind is there?” he teased.” Lacy giggled.

  Kelly joined them in the living room. “What’s all this conspiring about?”

  “Lacy and I are going for a boat ride. Would you like to joint us?”

  In a hushed voice, Lacy said, “Steve says it’s a real boat, Mom.” Her eyes widened with excitement.

  “I hope so if he’s offering us a ride in it. But it’s been raining all afternoon. Are you sure this is a good time to go boating?”

  “It’s anybody’s guess,” Steve admitted, “but the sky has cleared and the stars should be spectacular. There’s no wind, so the water will be smooth.”

  Kelly crossed the room to the front door and stepped outside. The air was crisp and clear following the rain, the night sky brilliant with flickering starlight.

  Unable to conjure up further excuses, Kelly said, “Okay, I’m in.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The decision was unanimous. With full stomachs, they left the pie for later, grabbed several blankets, the unfinished wine, several plastic cups, and juice boxes for Lacy, and drove to Steve’s house. Crossing the bridge to the mainland, they spotted a myriad of small boats afloat on the water. They weren’t the only Floridians venturing out after the daylong rains.

  When they pulled into Steve’s drive, Lacy snuggled closer to Kelly. “It’s spooky.” She buried her head in Kelly’s lap.

  The yard was a jungle, thick with natural vegetation, blocking the view from the road. Tall stately palms, thick palmettos, and low sprawling undergrowth filled the yard, interspersed with hibiscus and trailing vines— some flowering, others waiting until summer to bloom.

  The house nestled beneath a small grove of ancient oaks on the back quarter of the deep lot, and from the yard, the intercoastal waterway was visible, churning toward the open sea at Ponce Inlet and the lighthouse, several miles to the south.