by Ann McMan
Maddie sat up straighter. “Five feet, twelve inches—barefoot.”
“Five feet, twelve inches?”
Maddie nodded.
“You’re six feet tall?”
Maddie fixed her with a deadpan expression. “I’ll bet you were the unbridled star of math camp.”
Syd threw her napkin at her. “Math camp? I think you have my past confused with yours. Remember, I’m the one who spent my summers by the shore—tanning, surfing, and having carnal knowledge of brawny young men.”
Maddie sighed. “That’s right. I forgot. Your mantra was ‘If it swells, ride it.’ ”
Syd gave her a withering look. “You’re not half as funny as you think you are.” She set her empty bowl down on the table between their chairs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
“You’re more right than you realize.”
Smiling, Syd stood up and walked to stand before a large, framed object that hung on the wall just above the desk.
“What is this?” she asked, peering at it from close range. “It looks like part of a shirt.”
“It is.” Maddie got up to stand just behind her. “My dad was a pilot. It’s customary to have the back of your shirt cut out the first time you solo. Your instructors mark it up with the date and the aircraft specifics, and tack it to the hangar wall until you get your private license.” She reached around Syd and pointed at the writing on the lower left corner of the yellowed square of fabric.
“That’s amazing.” Syd leaned closer. “What’s N2527K?”
“That was the tail number of the plane he soloed in. I’m pretty sure it was a Cessna 152—the workhorse of private aviation.”
Syd turned to Maddie. “No wonder your old room upstairs is full of airplane photos. I wondered about that.”
“Yeah. We’re a bunch of total aviation nerds.” She gave Syd a wistful smile. “I always loved flying with Dad—he was a natural.”
“I know you miss him.”
“I really do. It just doesn’t get any easier.”
“Some things aren’t meant to. You’ll probably always miss him as much as you do right now.”
Maddie nodded. “But let’s shift gears here and talk about you.” She walked back to her chair and sat down. “I want to hear about your ill-fated encounter with Jeff.”
“Oh, god. I guess I do owe you an explanation for showing up and commandeering your evening.” She sat back down and picked up her wine glass. “Is there any more of this? It might help me feel a bit less mortified.”
Maddie picked up the bottle and refilled her glass. “There’s no reason to feel mortified, and if you’d rather not talk about it, that’s totally okay.”
“No. It’s fine. I want to talk about it, I’m just embarrassed. I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to meet him. I mean, he was ogling our waitress within five minutes of sitting down.” She shook her head. “And then he had the gall to suggest that I—” She looked up to meet Maddie’s concerned gaze. “Never mind. It doesn’t even bear repeating.” She took a sip from her wine glass. “Suffice it to say that all of our original issues are alive and kicking. He said some things that really pissed me off, and I’m afraid I stormed out on him.”
Maddie was puzzled. “Really? You don’t strike me as the storming-out type.”
Syd met her gaze. “You don’t know what he said.”
“That’s true.”
They looked at each other in silence for a few moments. Then Syd let out a slow breath and shrugged. “Oh, what the hell. He tried to suggest that I wasn’t interested in reconciling because of my friendship with you.”
“Me?” Maddie was stunned . . . and alarmed. Her thoughts spiraled back to the night Jeff showed up at the library unannounced. There had been a fleeting moment when she thought he might be sizing her up as a potential rival but she had quickly dismissed that idea as being ridiculous, and a product of her overactive imagination. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
“Yeah. How absurd is that?” Syd asked. “It infuriated me. Jeff has always blamed our . . . issues on what he chooses to define as my ambivalence toward intimacy.”
Maddie’s heartbeat was accelerating at an unhealthy rate. She could barely take in what she was hearing, and she had no idea how to respond. Syd was regarding her with an earnest and open expression, and Maddie knew she had to say something. “Well . . . that hardly seems like a characterization that’s consistent with your life prior to marriage.”
“It isn’t. But you have to know Jeff. In his world, any woman who doesn’t immediately want to hop into bed with him has to be demented—or gay.” She sighed in frustration. “Of course, once our relationship hit the skids, that axiom was expanded to include me.”
“He thinks you’re gay?” Maddie was tempted to stab herself in the thigh with her fork just to be sure she was awake and not caught up in some torturous nightmare.
“He thinks any woman who doesn’t want to sleep with him is gay.”
“I still don’t see how I factor into this equation.” Maddie knew it was a mistake to ask, but she had to know what Jeff said about her to Syd.
Syd lowered her gaze. “He seemed to think that . . . well . . . He found you extremely attractive. And in his book, if he finds you attractive then it must mean that I do, too.”
The tingling between her ears was getting worse. Maddie was certain she was blushing. “He thinks that we’re . . . ?”
“In a nutshell. Yeah.” She raised her eyes and saw the distressed look on Maddie’s face. “God, I’m sorry.” She tentatively touched Maddie’s knee. “I must have been crazy to tell you all of this. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I never meant to offend you.”
Maddie recovered enough to pat Syd’s hand with her own. “I’m not at all offended. Honest.” She forced a shy smile. “If anything, I should be complimented. It’s not often that I get cast as the third part of a triangle.” She sucked on the inside of her cheek. “Can you imagine David’s reaction?”
“Oh god.” Syd covered her face with both hands. “Don’t even think about telling him. I’d die of embarrassment.”
“You would? Now that’s a darn shame.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “I sort of liked the idea that I might be the object of fantasy for someone.”
Syd peeked at her between her fingers, and then lowered her hands. “You’re joking, right? At last count, you had a string of lovesick admirers that stretched from here to the state line.”
“Oh, pshaw.”
“Did you actually just say pshaw?” Syd asked, sounding incredulous.
Maddie glowered at her.
“No, really. You did. You said pshaw.”
“So what if I did? It doesn’t make your insinuation any less ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous? You’re so clueless. You have no idea how many poor, pathetic people are out there pining for you.”
“Pathetic would be the operative word, too.”
Syd crossed her arms. “Oh, so anyone who finds you irresistible is classified as pathetic?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well then it’s a good thing I’m not gay because if I were, I’d surely be at the top of your list of rejects.”
Maddie’s stomach suddenly felt like it was doing back-flips. She needed to get this conversation back on solid ground, and soon. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“No. In your case, I might be inclined to make an exception.”
Syd narrowed her eyes. “Why’s that?”
Maddie held up her empty pasta bowl. “I’d never reject the hands that fed me.” She winked and gave Syd her best smile. “Whatcha do for an encore, blondie?”
“We are still talking about food, right?”
“Were you in any doubt?”
“I’m slowly learning that with you, it’s always safer to ask.”
“Then, yes. We’re still talking about food.”
Syd stood up and collected their bowls
. “Let’s go see what else we can cobble together from your vault of shrink-wrapped delights.”
Maddie stood up, too. “Now I’m confused. Are you talking about my freezer or my bedside table?”
“Pervert,” Syd muttered, as she left the study and headed for the kitchen.
Chapter 8
On the Saturday morning before Thanksgiving, Michael Robertson made an impromptu visit to the Jericho Public Library. The main study area was choked with high school students. They were clustered around several oak tables in the reference area, pouring over encyclopedias and competing for access to the library’s four computers. He recognized the inevitable Roma Jean Freemantle behind the circulation desk. She was engaged in an animated telephone conversation, but she waved excitedly at him as he approached. He found Syd at the back of the facility enmeshed in trying to un-jam a photocopier. Piles of torn and crumpled up paper surrounded her. The entire front panel was at her feet. Syd was on her knees and had one arm buried shoulder-deep inside the unit. Michael could hear her soft curses as he approached from behind.
“Come on you sorry piece of shit. I so do not need this today.”
Michael laughed as he stopped to stand just beside her. “Well, lucky for you, I have the perfect antidote.”
Syd jerked at the sound of his voice and banged her head on an open paper drawer as she quickly sat upright. “Damn it.” She raised her free hand to rub the top of her head as she turned to him. “Michael. What a pleasant surprise. I hope by antidote, you mean that you know how to fix this thing.”
He slowly shook his head. “Not even close. Honey, if it isn’t attached to a KitchenAid mixer, I happily abide in ignorance.”
“Great.” She pulled her arm free and sat back, still rubbing the top of her head. “Where am I going to find someone who can service this thing on a Saturday? I’ve had over a dozen calls already this morning from people asking if it’s fixed yet.” She waved her hand toward the throng of teenagers up front. “It’s term paper time, and, apparently, the unit in the post office has been broken for about nine years.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. You might have to break down and throw yourself on the mercy of the county’s resident fix-it wizard.”
“We have one of those?” Syd extended a hand and let Michael pull her to her feet. “I’m desperate, and out of time. Who do I need to call, and how much do I need to pay him?”
“The fee is usually negotiable. But I’ve always had great success bartering for repairs with food.”
“Really?”
“Yep. In fact, I just might be able to help you out. The reason I stopped by is to ask if you want to play guinea pig tonight. I’m doing a dress rehearsal for Thursday’s haute cuisine. Since it’s your parents I’ll be cooking for, I wondered if you’d like to join us to sample the fare?”
Syd grinned. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I’d love that.”
“Swell.”
“But I don’t see how this helps me out with my copier—unless you’re offering to supply me with leftovers to use as bargaining chips?”
“Not exactly. I was thinking more along the lines of inviting the tool jockey, too.”
Syd looked confused. “Just who is this mysterious Mr. Fix-It?
Michael held up an index finger. “That’d be Dr. Fix-It.”
Syd’s mouth fell open. “You have got to be kidding me?”
“Afraid not. That woman can fix anything. Don’t tell me you failed to notice that she has about twenty broken vacuum cleaners stockpiled in her garage?”
Syd stared at him. “You’re right. I did notice that the first time I went out there but I was so overwhelmed by everything else, I didn’t really think much about it.”
He nodded. “There you go.”
“Good lord. When on earth does she find time to work on them?”
He shrugged. “Beats me. I don’t think she ever sleeps.”
Syd shook her head. “I wonder why the post office hasn’t called her.”
“She won’t do government work.”
Syd rolled her eyes.
He pushed his glasses up his nose with an index finger. “Look at the bright side: she’s totally set up with an alternative career if we ever pass socialized medicine.”
“True. I don’t suppose there are many places you can go to have your Electrolux rebuilt by a Stanford grad.”
He nodded. “Possibly our one claim to fame.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve gotta run if I’m going to make it to the butcher shop in Wytheville before noon. Do you wanna join us at the Inn around six-thirty? We’ll have cocktails before dinner.”
“I’ll be there.” She gave him an affectionate smile. “Thanks for thinking of me. I suppose it’s pointless for me to ask if I can bring anything?”
“Well, if you catch up with her before we do, you can bring Ms. Goodwrench. Otherwise, just bring your sweet self. And dress casual. It’s just going to be the four of us.”
“Casual?”
“I think David’s wearing a peignoir set.”
“God, I love you guys.” She stepped forward and kissed the big man on the cheek. “See you tonight.”
MICHAEL WAS LOADING a large bucket of cut flowers and a couple of canvas shopping bags into the Inn’s white Range Rover when he saw Maddie walk out of the Dunkin’ Donuts across the parking lot from Gladys Pitzer’s shop. She was wearing bright blue scrubs and carrying a large cup of coffee. Smiling, he let fly with a loud wolf whistle and waited for her to notice him.
She did. Shaking her head, she walked toward him.
He pulled her into a full-body hug, being careful not to spill her coffee. “Hi ya, hot stuff. I didn’t know you worked this side of town.”
She smiled against his shoulder. “Only on Saturdays.” She stepped back. “I just finished seeing patients at the hospital. What’s your excuse?”
He picked up the white bucket loaded with flowers and foliage. “Well, as it happens, I’m cooking tonight, and you’re invited.” He stashed the bucket in the back of the Rover and closed its door. Riverside Inn was neatly stenciled across the side of the vehicle.
“Great.” She took a sip of her coffee. “What’s the occasion?”
“We’ve got a full boat for dinner on Thursday, and I want to do a dry-run on the currant- and cornbread-stuffed goose.” He paused. “Bad choice of words. Dry is exactly what I want to avoid.”
She smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be fabulous.”
“I dunno. I don’t have the best track record with goose, and since I’ll be cooking for the redoubtable Mrs. Murphy, I want it to be perfect.”
“Why not switch the menu to something you are more comfortable with?”
“Because, my dear. Your future mother-in-law was very specific about what constituted a traditional Thanksgiving Day meal. She practically clipped recipes for me.”
Maddie looked confused. “My future . . .” Comprehension spread across her features. “I’m really going to kill the two of you if you don’t knock this shit off.”
Michael just laughed at her. “Lighten up, will you?” He kissed her on the forehead. “You’re so cute when you’re miserable.”
“Well, as long as my misery can lighten someone else’s burden, I guess it serves a purpose.”
He stood there, regarding her. “Do you really want to stay away from her?”
She met his eyes. “No.”
He nodded. “Hang in there. It might all just work out the way you want it to.”
“To tell the truth, I have no idea what I want.”
“Don’t you?” He held her gaze.
She relented. “Okay. Maybe I know what I want, but what I want usually ends up being the opposite of what I need.”
“You aren’t alone in that one, sweetheart. It’s all a crap shoot. Sometimes, we just get lucky.”
She sighed. “Are we talking about life, or about Rolling Stones lyrics?”
He laughed. “Both. So, you wanna join us for
dinner?”
“Sure. Who are the other lab rats?”
He just looked at her.
She threw her head back. “Oh, man. You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“No, just feed you. Look, it’s just dinner. We’re not going to play spin-the-bottle, or get drunk and swap room keys.”
“Right. And do you think you can promise to keep David muzzled?”
“You’re on your own with that one, sister,” Michael said. “The last time I tried that, we ended up playing some really twisted boudoir games.”
“I didn’t mean it literally.”
“Oh. My bad.” He gave her a wistful look. “But he did look cute all tied up. He was stunned when he realized later that I used his Hermès scarf.”
“Beyond being appalled by the charming visual image this summons up, I’m stunned to learn that he has a Hermès scarf.”
“You know our boy.”
“Indeed I do. What time do you want me there?”
“How’s six-thirty? And if you stop by the library to rescue your damsel in distress, you can bring her along with you.”
Maddie looked perplexed. “What do you mean? Why does she need rescuing?”
“Her copier is on the fritz. She was up to her shapely elbows in toner and cursing like a sailor when I stopped by there this morning.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “You’re asking me this question? That’s your department. You need to pack up your socket wrenches and roar on over there. I told her she needed to call you, so she won’t be surprised to see you if you drop by.”
“Okay. I suppose I could go take a look at her on my way home.” She caught her mistake. “It. I mean it.” She gave up, and smiled at him sheepishly. “I’ll check it out.”
He chucked her on the chin before climbing into his car. “I’m sure you will.” He started the engine. “See you tonight, sweet pea.”
MADDIE STOOD THERE, watching him drive away. So much for a quiet evening at home. God, when was the last time I even spent a night by myself?
When the white Rover left the parking lot and pulled out onto the main road, she slowly turned and walked to her Jeep, marveling at the turn her life had taken since Syd’s arrival in Jericho. It’s not like we look for opportunities. We just always seem to end up thrown together.