by Susan Wiggs
This morning he’d shown up as if he’d read her mind, but his purpose didn’t seem to be to clear the air between them. After a brief greeting, he said, “She told me you have a porch light that needs fixing.”
Didn’t he get it? Kate wondered. That was a transparent ploy to get him over here. However, he seemed to be taking it at face value.
He looked up from the wicker porch table, where he’d been bent over some project that lay dismantled in front of him. “Did you want this on a toggle switch or rheostat?” he asked.
“Do I…what?”
“This light fixture. What kind of switch do you want?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear what I said.”
“I heard.” He rummaged through the canvas carpenter’s apron slung low around his waist. “Toggle’s fine for a porch light,” he concluded.
“You’re avoiding the issue,” she said. Kate was already regretting the conversation. She sounded like a whiny, possessive girlfriend.
“There is no issue.” He set the fixture between two clamps and opened a blister pack of new wire. “I had to go away. Now I’m back.”
Kate held her tongue and waited. For what, she wasn’t sure. Did she want him to say he was sorry, that he had no right to approve or disapprove of anything she chose to do? Or did she want him to say he was wrong, that writing about Callie’s life was a worthy endeavor? That she deserved to know all his comings and goings?
Now that she thought about it, she was sure. The answer to all of the above was yes.
This was getting complicated. Her feelings for him were getting complicated. If she knew where she stood with him, she’d push the issue, talk it out, argue if necessary. That was what people did when they cared about each other. Yet she and JD weren’t arguing; they were avoiding and acting as though whatever it was they had between them wasn’t worth fighting over.
Maybe she’d read too much into this. Maybe their relationship worked better as a summer romance, one that would simply fade away on its own at the end of the season.
“Hand me that wire stripper, will you?” he asked.
All right, so he didn’t want to talk about it. It was better that way. From day one, they’d gotten along so well it was almost scary. She realized it was because they never dealt with issues bigger than whether to have hamburgers or hot dogs for dinner, or which CD to put on. They should have been content to go on like that through the summer, never reaching deep enough to truly take hold of one another.
She passed him the strippers, pretending she wasn’t troubled by her thoughts. “The electrician in town said he couldn’t get out here for a couple of weeks.”
“I’m your love slave, remember?” he said, laying a copper wire bare.
Kate flushed and automatically scanned the yard for Aaron. He was over by the shed with Luke Newman, helping blow up an air mattress, while Callie sat in an Adirondack chair nearby. Kate watched the kids for a minute, laughing and talking together in the yard. Aaron thought it was awesome to hang out with Luke. And Luke, a big kid himself, showed a remarkable tolerance for Aaron.
“Right,” Kate said to JD, flashing a smile. “If I believed that, I’d think up harder stuff for you to do.”
Though she spoke lightly, she wondered if he did this on purpose, if he brought up the idea of love without actually going the distance. They had slept together, but instead of clarifying things, she felt more confused than ever. He talked about being crazy about her, but they never had a direct discussion of exactly how they felt about one another.
She wanted to ask him, but held off because Callie and Luke were coming toward them. The teenager’s transformation was remarkable, and Kate glanced over at JD to see if he noticed the changes, but his expression was unreadable.
True to her word, Callie was sticking to her program of glucose monitoring, diet and exercise. Kate used to see her as an overweight, fashion-challenged teen. Now the girl looked as fragile and spiritual as a Charlotte Brontë heroine. Context was everything, Kate reflected.
“We’re heading to town,” Callie said. “Luke’s giving me a ride. I’ve got class and then we’re going to rent a video and watch it at the Newmans’.”
“I’ll be careful,” Luke said, correctly anticipating her next remark. “We’ll be home by ten o’clock.”
After they left, she said, “It’s hard letting them go off on their own like this.”
“His car has air bags, and I know where he lives,” JD said, as if that explained everything.
She went back to her confused thoughts, and he went back to work. She wondered if he sensed the turbulence in the air between them. They were so new together that she didn’t know how to categorize this…discussion. They weren’t fighting. No one had spoken in a raised voice and they hadn’t even broken their rhythm as she handed him tools and he worked on the light.
“We never really talk about how we feel about each other,” she blurted out.
He tinkered with the neck of the fixture. “Sure we do.” He held out his hand without looking at her. “Clamp.”
She gritted her teeth and passed him a clamp. “When?” she asked. “When have we told each other how we feel?”
He held out his hand again. “Phillips-head screwdriver.”
She handed it over. “I said, when—”
“I know what you said. You asked me when we ever told each other how we feel. If you need hearts and flowers and deathless soliloquies, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“How romantic,” she retorted, feeling a flash of temper. It was stupid to expect anything from this man. From any man. She knew that.
“You want romance,” he said, “read a fairy tale.”
“I just don’t see why it’s such a huge problem to talk. I believe in talking. I’m a very verbal person.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.” He put the cover on the light fixture. “And I don’t know about you, Kate, but I tell you how I feel every time I touch you. If you don’t realize that, maybe you need to listen better.”
Was there any possible response to that besides sitting there with her mouth hanging open? You don’t do that anymore, she wanted to say. You don’t touch me.
He fitted the fixture in place on the wall and held out a hand for the screws.
She handed them over, wondering at his attitude. He put everything back together with almost surgical precision. When he flipped the breaker and tested the light, she wasn’t at all surprised to find it working perfectly.
“I guess that’s got it,” he said, closing the breaker box.
“Thanks to you, we won’t be stumbling around in the dark anymore.” She was trying to be civil, but everything felt awry between them. Weird and off kilter.
“No problem.” While taking off the carpenter’s apron, he studied her. “What’s that look?”
“What look?” She pretended not to understand, even though the feeling that something was not right hung between them, a palpable entity, making her feel defensive.
“You’re pissed off about something.”
“That wouldn’t be very neighborly of me, to get mad at the person fixing my porch light.”
“You’re pissed off,” he repeated.
“Don’t tell me how I feel.” She sat down on the steps, and he sat beside her.
She was torn by the desire to lean against him and the urge to push him away, and her heart sank. So it began, the beginning of the end. This always happened with a guy she liked. Always. She was nuts to think JD would be any different.
Ah, but she had wanted him to be. Like a schoolgirl with a crush, she had yearned for it.
She should have known better. Should have recognized the pattern, which had become such a familiar rhythm in her life. Whenever she liked a guy, things went well for a time. Then something—anything—occurred.
It might be a comment. Maybe just a look. She was always amazed at how little it took for something to undo a fragile bond.
She felt JD’s sta
re and the weight of his expectations. This was it, then. The relationship talk. And so far, it wasn’t going well.
She took a deep breath. “Ever find a broken thread on a sweater,” she asked him, “and when you pull it, the entire garment unravels?”
He nodded. “I usually quit pulling once I realize it’s unraveling.”
“Sometimes it unravels on its own,” she said, “whether you pull on it or not.”
“I don’t get your point.”
“I do have one. I’m not mad. It’s just…we’re unraveling.” Her face heated, and she looked away from him. Spoken aloud, her words sounded silly. And it was stupid of her to feel disappointed. This was the normal course of a relationship for her. She ought to be used to it. “So anyway,” she said, “that’s my observation, based on my experience.”
“What’s the broken thread?” he asked.
“You really don’t know?”
He didn’t answer but simply looked at her, waiting.
This was what men did, she reminded herself. They let the woman do all the emotional work, and they got to walk away intact. “I told you I was writing about Callie,” she reminded him, “and your reaction was to question my choice.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he said, “I just wonder if exposing other people’s lives on paper is going to bring you happiness.”
Ouch. “This is not about my happiness. And I am not going to defend myself to you. This is something I want, something I intend to work for and you have no right to question me.”
“Then we should change the subject.”
“It’s not that simple. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t support my dreams and ambitions. That’s one of the most basic, unbreakable rules of relationships.”
Oh, God, she thought, she had just drawn a line in the sand.
He was quiet. She didn’t know what he was thinking.
“Kate—”
“JD—”
They both spoke at once.
“Hey!” Aaron yelled to get their attention. “Watch this!” He was perched on his bike at the top of a steep slope leading down into the yard. As soon as they looked up at him, he leaned down over the handlebars and pushed off. The bike sped downhill, out of control in seconds.
She was on her feet in an instant. JD ran, but they were too far away to intercept him. Even as they yelled at him to stop, he headed flat out down the bumpy hill toward the dock.
Helpless, terrified, she watched her son ride along the dock and off the end, shouting with glee as he launched into the air, then separated from the bike and jumped in with a splash.
The moment he bobbed to the surface and gave a triumphant war whoop, Kate’s terror crystallized into fury. Rushing past JD, she went to the end of the dock. The bike floated up, buoyed by a pair of life vests Aaron had strapped to it. He swam over to the ladder, pulling the floating contraption behind him.
“What on earth are you doing?” demanded Kate.
“Nothing.”
It was the age-old exchange of angry mothers and naughty sons everywhere.
Aaron focused on JD, who now stood at the edge of the dock, hands on hips, looking down into the water.
“Did you see, JD?” Aaron asked. “Did you? Did you see?”
“I saw. How do you plan on getting that bike out of the water?”
“I got a system all figured out. But did you see how awesome that was?” Grinning even as he shivered with cold, Aaron pulled the bike over to the boat ramp.
Kate glared at JD. She hated that he and Aaron had sided together against her. “You shouldn’t have told him it was awesome.”
“But it was.”
The residue of their quarrel still hung between them. “It’s a bad idea to encourage dangerous behavior.”
“He doesn’t need any encouragement,” JD pointed out. “He thought that up on his own.”
They walked to the boat ramp and stood waiting while Aaron dragged the bike into the shallows, set it upright, then wheeled it up the ramp.
“You are so grounded,” said Kate.
“It was so worth it,” replied Aaron.
Twenty-Six
JD attacked the wooden skiff with a vengeance, using the air compressor to clear the field for the next step. The wood had to be as particle-free as he could make it, so when he applied each layer of sealer it would be smooth and flawless. The entire hull needed to be airtight and prepared for multiple coats of marine epoxy and varnish.
He had a hard time keeping his mind on the job, though. Now what? he wondered as he worked, viewing the world through the distorted shield of his safety goggles. What the hell was he supposed to do next?
Like a fool, he’d started something with Kate Livingston. And like an even bigger fool, he’d destroyed it.
It was a freak accident, falling for her. An unplanned event beyond his control. It was not supposed to happen.
He cleaned every particle from the hull of the skiff, as meticulous as a surgeon sterilizing the field for an operation. He knew plenty about accidents. He’d been in the business of mopping up after them for years.
“It was an accident” was something people said to him on a daily basis when he was on the job. “It wasn’t my fault” was another favorite. “No one is to blame.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Hearing victims and families utter those words used to frustrate him. Now he realized that all those phrases applied to his tangled affair with Kate. He had come here this summer to disappear and lie low, not to discover a dream he’d never let himself have.
As he changed a plane blade, his hand slipped. He looked down at the deep gash in his finger, watching the blood well up and trickle down. A few seconds passed before he felt the sting. “Idiot,” he muttered. He went to the outdoor spigot and flushed the wound, made a field dressing of a clean cloth, then went right back to work. It wasn’t like him to be so clumsy. He needed to be more careful.
He was ticked off at himself for letting things go so far. Looking back, he couldn’t quite tell how it had happened. He was new to the whole business of giving his heart, and one of the first things he’d discovered was that he couldn’t control love. It controlled him. And it wasn’t just Kate he loved, but Aaron, too. Even Callie, with her secrets and her hurts, was part of the picture. They made a tight unit that was infinitely larger than each individual. JD wasn’t sure how he knew what being a family felt like, either, yet somehow he understood in a deep and hidden place that he’d found the essence of that this summer. It was a closeness and sense of security and contentment that pervaded every moment they were together, even when they were at odds with one another.
There were so many reasons that this wouldn’t work, yet he couldn’t help wishing he could find a way to be with them, not just for the summer but for good. Clearly Kate had other ideas. After their argument about Callie, there wasn’t much more for them to say. Kate had informed him that she couldn’t be with him if he didn’t support her ambitions, and he couldn’t force himself to change his mind about her project with Callie.
That should have been the end of it. Instead, it was more like the onset of an illness he couldn’t shake. He thought about her constantly, with the kind of yearning that kept him up at night, took away his need for solitude, distracted him from all but the simplest tasks. Even the manual labor of restoring the boat was almost too much to manage.
He felt sick that he’d blown it with her, yet at the same time, a curious relief took hold. Being alone was part of the plan. He was supposed to lose himself this summer, not lose his heart.
“Congratulations,” Callie called out, coming down the driveway toward the workshop. She looked good, with a spring in her step and her bucket of cleaning things, ready to get to work.
“For what?” he asked, checking the bandage on his hand.
“You’ve been upgraded to complete idiot.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.”
“All ri
ght,” he said. “I won’t pretend. I really don’t know what you mean.”
“Kate, that’s what,” Callie said. “It’s so stupid for you to get all mad because of the article. And no, she didn’t send me to say that, so don’t even ask me.”
“I’m not mad. I just think it’s a bad idea. You ought to reconsider, Callie.”
“It’s just one article.”
“As far as you know,” he warned her. “These things can take on a life of their own—”
“I don’t care, okay? I’m not like you, JD, all freaked out because you don’t like publicity.”
“You don’t, either,” he assured her. “Listen, when all this started happening to me, I systematically lost every element of my private life, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. And when all that was taken away, I had nothing. Then when the thing with my mother happened, I had less than nothing. Trust me, you don’t want the attention.”
“Then let me find that out for myself.”
“By the time you find out, it’ll be too late. Suppose someone digs up things about your mother.”
“She deserves it.”
“Nobody deserves it.”
“You know what?” she said in a huff. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. No, wait. I have one more thing to tell you. You’re crazy for making this some kind of deal breaker with Kate.”
“You already said that.”
“Then I’m done talking about it. The ball’s in your court.”
JD was more than willing to drop the subject. He liked Callie, and she brought out a strong protective instinct in him. He felt a grudging respect for her moxie in bringing up the topic. He didn’t want to discuss Kate with her further, though. His differences with Kate ran deeper than the fact that he thought she was making a mistake by turning Callie into the subject for an article. He and Kate had a fundamental difference in their values. When she finished with Callie, she’d move on to new topics, and that was her right. His reservations would always hang between them. She was a reporter in search of a story. He was sick and tired of being the story.
“Your doc say you’re well enough to work?” he asked Callie.