Coming Home

by Christine S. Feldman

  “Lady’s choice,” Danny offered amiably, trying to recover the playful mood from earlier. “Do you want to break, or shall I? I mean — take the first shot.”

  “You can go.” She reached for her beer and took a sip, her face still a mystery to him.

  He took aim with his cue stick and sent the balls scattering across the table. None went into the pockets, and he grimaced. He was not exactly focusing well at the moment. “Your shot. You pick, solids or stripes.”

  “Okay.” She set her beer down and picked up her cue stick again. “So are we playing for anything?”

  “You mean stakes?” he asked, a little incredulously.

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you serious? You’ve had a sum total of one lesson.”

  She shrugged. “But you seem a little off your game there, pal. I’m feeling kind of lucky. Besides, we’re just having fun here.”

  Of course she meant pool, but his mind was still on how close he had come to kissing her. She would not be looking to start something now, not when she was so hell-bent on leaving town again. They were having fun together, that was all, and he would do well to remember it. If he kissed her, though, he didn’t think he would be able to stop at fun. He would do well to remember that, too.

  Danny rubbed chalk on the end of his cue stick, forcing his attention back to the game at hand. “What kind of stakes did you have in mind? Bragging rights? Next round of beers, maybe?”

  “Boring.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  She leaned forward against the table, and a hint of creamy cleavage distracted him. “Hmm. For now, let’s just say the loser is in the winner’s debt.” The faintest suggestion of a smile played upon her lips. “For a favor to be named at a later date.”

  She was killing him, and she probably had no idea of it. “That could be dangerous.”

  Her eyes flashed. “That’s what makes it fun.”

  “You’re sure? Don’t think I’ll let you out of it, if you change your mind later.”

  “I won’t.” She held her hand out.

  “Deal.” He took her hand in his to shake it. Such a casual touch between them shouldn’t have affected him, but it did.

  “All right, then. I’ll take stripes.” Callie leaned over the table and placed her hands perfectly before drawing her arm back and striking the cue ball dead center. It sailed into a solid red ball, which then struck a striped one and sent it rolling directly into a side pocket.

  Danny’s eyes widened.

  Callie took the chalk from his hand and applied it to the tip of her cue stick. “Corner pocket,” she said matter-of-factly, lining up her shot. A moment later another ball rolled merrily where she directed it.

  A slow, rueful smile spread across Danny’s face. “You little — I’ve been hustled, haven’t I?”

  “What? I told you I was feeling lucky.” She circled around the table and chose her next target. With apparent ease, she banked the next ball off the wall of the table and sent it into the middle pocket on the opposite side.

  “Remind me never to play poker with you.”

  Callie sank another ball. “No promises.”

  He started to laugh. “‘The first one to get all of their balls in the holes wins, right?’ How do you keep a straight face?”

  “Years of practice. It’s a handy way of making a little cash when you’re on the road.” She finished playing the table. “Eight ball in the side pocket.” The ball followed suit, just as she predicted. “And there you have it.”

  Shaking his head, Danny wryly applauded her performance. “Well played.”

  “Thanks.” Callie laid her cue stick on the table and put one hand on her hip as she turned to him. “You’re not going to try to get out of the bet, are you?”

  “Can’t. You know where I live.”

  She grinned.

  “So,” he asked, with an exaggerated wince, “what’s this favor I’m going to have to owe you?”

  She leaned over to begin retrieving the balls from the collection chamber of the table, a position that drew attention to the shortness of her skirt and the length of her legs beneath it. A pair of men one table over paused in the middle of their game to take notice, and Danny deliberately stepped in the way to obscure their view, frowning darkly at them.

  Callie seemed not to notice any of it. “Don’t worry. It won’t be anything you’ll mind losing.”

  Yes, she was killing him.

  • • •

  Callie felt awfully giddy for a woman who had only nursed one beer that night. It could hardly be the drink going to her head. The air felt thick around her. It was either the heat of the summer air, or it was something about the way Danny’s arms felt around her waist during their impromptu pool lesson. She would be lying to herself if she said it was anything but the latter. His voice, so low in her ear as he guided her in striking the ball, had made her legs feel weak beneath her, and his breath on her cheek had nearly been her undoing.

  Any other man she knew would have kissed her when she was that close, looking back at him the way she had. Why hadn’t he? She thought he had wanted to, but maybe she was mistaken. Maybe she was allowing wishful thinking to affect her judgment.

  She watched him play the table, his attention seemingly focused entirely on the game. He was totally at ease as he moved. Casual. His movements were so relaxed that each shot seemed as natural to him as breathing. That was not the way he had been with her earlier. No, she thought, she had not mistaken the tension in his body when his arms had been around her and her mouth had been so close to his. It was the response of a man to the nearness of a woman that he wanted but would not let himself have.

  She wondered why he wouldn’t. There was no one else that she was aware of in his life. And her mother, she thought wryly, seemed to be keeping pretty current on Danny’s love life. Then again, her mother’s accident may have left her out of the social loop lately. She thought back to the other night they had been out together, and an unpleasant possibility came to mind.

  “So … ”

  He glanced up from where he was leaning over the table in preparation of his next shot. Once again, Callie noticed the way his jeans fit him so well. How could one man be built so perfectly in so many places? “What?”

  “I’m curious. Did you ever call that waitress?”

  “Waitress?” he repeated, looking blank. “What waitress?”

  “You know. The one from the other night.” Callie took another small sip from her beer and tried to sound nonchalant. She pretended an intense interest in her fingernails as she spoke. “The one who wrote her number on the check.”

  Danny made the shot, his face turned away from her. He made a sound like a cough that might have been covering up a laugh. “Oh. You mean the one you said was ‘tacky’?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  He was going to make her drag it out of him, wasn’t he? Pride should have stopped her, but her need to know overruled it. “Like I said. Just curious.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” she said, a little irritably. “Unless it’s some great secret, of course.”

  He shrugged. “No.”

  “No, it’s not a secret, or no, you didn’t call her?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to hit you in a minute.”

  This time he laughed for sure. He turned to face her and leaned back against the pool table, one hand resting on the tip of his cue stick. “There’s no need for violence,” he said, his eyes twinkling at her. “I’ll talk.”

  His smile could have melted polar ice caps. He seemed to be able to resist her, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could resist him. “I’m listening.”

  “No, I didn’t c
all her.”

  Relief flooded her. She hoped it didn’t show on her face. “Why not? Not your type?”

  The twinkle in his eyes faded. “No.” Pushing himself off of the table, he turned back to his game. “Not really.”

  She was an inch away from asking him what his type was, but it occurred to her that she ought to know that about him already. Danny wasn’t one for drama or high-maintenance in a woman. He would want someone down to earth, like he was. Someone who shared his passion for simple pleasures outdoors, someone who loved small towns.

  Someone who loved family and wanted to put down roots.

  Not someone who moved on when roots threatened to hold her back.

  She felt that same strange flicker of anxiety that she had felt earlier that evening when her mother had warned her about what she might be giving up. She did her best to shake it off, but a kind of melancholy took its place, just as strange and unsettling. It would be so much easier if she could be that person her mother, and maybe Danny, wanted her to be. It seemed like it should be enough to make her happy. She wasn’t sure why it wasn’t.

  That was why he hadn’t kissed her, she thought distantly, her eyes on the pool table but not really seeing it. He might be attracted to her — and she believed maybe he was — but he would not want to start something with her that they couldn’t finish. He was not the kind of man to indulge in a casual romance.

  She smiled sadly to herself. She wouldn’t like him so much if he were.

  It was fun, this flirtation between them. And it felt like sparks flew off her skin whenever he touched her. But she would be making a mistake to try to make something more out of it. He clearly knew it, and she ought to make peace with it herself.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Startled from her thoughts, Callie glanced up to see Danny watching her. He had cleared the table at some point, and she was embarrassed to realize that she had no idea how long she might have been staring off into space. She looked away. “Oh, just thinking about something my mom said tonight.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled with more cheer than she felt. “Just figuring a few things out, I guess.”

  “About you and your mom?”

  It was easier to focus on that side of it with him. “Maybe that’s part of it.”

  “I know you guys butt heads sometimes, but you’re here now, when she needed you, and she’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. You two are so much alike, you know that? But maybe it’s easier for me to see that since I’m on the outside looking in.”

  “Maybe.”

  He set his cue stick back in its place and stood in front of her, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “You know what you said earlier, about you feeling like you weren’t close to your mom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Liddy said almost the same exact thing to me once, about the two of you. A few years ago, after the last time you left. She was afraid you were going to drift even further apart than you already were, and she hated the fact that you were so far away.”

  “I know,” Callie acknowledged, her eyes downcast.

  His voice softened. “But she was so proud of you, too, Callie.”

  Her head shot up again. “She was?”

  “Yes. It took guts to do what you did, to be on your own and take chances that way. You knew what you wanted, and you went after it. Not many people could do what you did, and she was proud that you could make your own choices without needing anyone else’s approval. She bragged to people about some of the things you did. Some of the things you wrote about.”

  Her voice trembled with emotion. “Really? Why didn’t she ever tell me?”

  He leaned against the wall beside her and nudged her with one shoulder. “You’re kidding, right? Because she’s just like you. I never met two more stubborn women in my life.”

  Callie smiled weakly, struggling to maintain her composure.

  “Seriously,” Danny said, the warmth of his body so close to hers comforting and reassuring. “I think maybe she was afraid that if she gave you her blessing, you’d take it and run with it, and you’d disappear into the farthest corners of the world where she would never see you again. Like your father, maybe. I think she was afraid of not being part of your life anymore.”

  Callie wiped her eyes quickly as they grew wet. “Well, that’s just ridiculous.”

  “Maybe you should tell her that. Somebody’s got to go first, you know. Might as well be you.”

  “This counseling a side business of yours?”

  “More of a hobby.”

  “You’re not bad,” she admitted.

  He gave her another companionable nudge. “Liddy’s leg doing okay?”

  “Doctor says she’s healing like a pro,” Callie told him, grateful for a change of topic before her emotions could overwhelm her. “She gets around really well with her walker. She’s itching to get back to work, too, I can tell. Mom’s never been one to stay idle for long.”

  He made a noncommittal sound of agreement or acknowledgement and reached for his drink. “Still planning on leaving town?” he asked, taking a sip and not looking at her.

  “Yeah,” she said quietly, not looking at him either.

  “Back to New York, or someplace new?”

  “Got a few loose ends to tie up in New York. After that … I’m not sure.”

  “I see.” There was an awkward pause before he spoke again. “You must have racked up a long list of pen pals, what with all the places you’ve lived,” he said in what she knew was an attempt to speak lightly.

  She shrugged with a half-smile. “Not as many as you’d think. Most of the folks I spend time with are just ‘passing through,’ like me.”

  They remained shoulder-to-shoulder, silent for a long while. “Sounds lonely,” Danny said finally, the words soft and hard to hear.

  Lonely. She had never thought of it that way before. To her it had just seemed practical not to form too many attachments. Why let herself get close to people she might never see again? There would be fewer goodbyes that way, and fewer disappointments.

  She felt an urge to protest his words, but could think of nothing to say.

  His cell phone rang then, and she was left alone with troubling thoughts as he glanced at the caller’s number and stepped away to answer it.

  • • •

  “What happened?” Danny listened to the voice on the other end. It belonged to a neighbor, someone to whom his grandfather had been a good friend years ago and who was now returning the favor. “Is he all right … ? Tell him I’ll be home soon. I’m sorry … I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thanks for staying with him.”

  He ended the call, pausing to collect himself before he turned around and went back to Callie. She had enough on her mind right now, and the last thing she needed was for him to unload his own problems on her.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, quelling the ache inside him. It was a terrible thing to feel so helpless to help the one person he loved best in the world, the person to whom he owed so much. Few people knew the truth about his grandfather’s failing health, and he would do his best to keep it that way for as long as possible, out of respect for his grandfather’s wishes.

  But it was getting harder.

  “I — ” He stopped and tried again, keeping his expression neutral. “I have to cut the evening short. I’m sorry.”

  Callie’s frowned, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just … nothing. I’ll take you home.” He forced a smile. “We’ll have a rematch some other time.”

  “Danny — ”

  He shook his head firmly. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She let the matter drop, but clearly did not believe that it was nothing. The ride back to her mo
ther’s house was a silent one until they pulled into the driveway. It had been an amazing night, one he thought he would never forget no matter how far away Callie’s life might take her, and he didn’t want it to end on a sour note, at least not for her.

  “I had a good time,” he said, turning his head to smile at her in the darkness of the cab of his truck. “Even though you did wipe the floor with me.”

  Light from the moon illuminated her answering smile. “I had a good time, too.

  Thanks for everything.”

  If this had been a date, he would have leaned in to kiss her now. If ever there was a right moment, this was it. But if he kissed her, there would be no going back to the way things were before and no way to pretend it hadn’t happened. And she would still be leaving. She might stay a little longer, but she would still leave in the end. And if she came back somewhere down the line, they would be unable to slip into the familiar roles of friends with that kiss hanging between them. Which meant she might not come back to him at all. One kiss could end up costing him more than he was willing to pay.

  “Well,” she said finally, opening the passenger’s side door, “good night, then.”

  “Good night.”

  He ought to have left it at that, but instead he leaned toward her before she could close the door. “So did you give any thought to going out on the river? It sounds like we may not get many more chances to do it before you leave.”

  “That would be fun.”

  “Saturday?”

  She nodded in the moonlight, but shadows prevented him from seeing her face. “Saturday.”

  “Pick you up at nine?”

  “No, I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay. See you then.”

  He watched her walk up to her front door and go inside.

  Saturday. He should be distancing himself from her, not making excuses to see her again.

  Once again, he was playing with fire.