“Do you and Macy live in this cramped space?” They must be practically on top of one other. I don’t want to think about that.
He laughs. “God no. Just me. She stays over, of course, but, her mail isn’t delivered there or anything. We’d be jammed in that little space and drive each other crazy in a matter of weeks.”
Funny. I think if you love someone, you want to be as close to that person as possible. Squeezing into a small area for an extended period of time may present a challenge, but our relationship would be stronger because of it. “You’d be better off living with your parents.” My words lodge in my throat as I think of my mom and dad. What if his parents aren’t alive anymore? I rarely mention mine for this reason. My body stiffens as I wait for a reply.
“I doubt it. First, they live out of state.”
Whew. That’s a relief. “Oh? Where?”
“Chicago. Second, they wouldn’t want Macy to visit too often. They’re not too fond of her.”
I stop preparing the tea and cycle through my conversations with Gretchen about her. The popular opinion seems to be disliking Macy. I realize I’ve been still too long, pick the teapot up and pour the water into our mugs. “Gretchen isn’t either, is she?” If I want answers, I might as well obtain them right from the source.
I hand him the mug and he inhales the aroma first. “No, she isn’t. She never got along with Macy, even as kids. She was always trying to fit in with Macy’s crew, but never succeeded.”
“So you think she’s jealous?”
“What else could she be?”
I shrug, thinking chances are Kellan won’t understand her need to protect her brother’s heart. I wouldn’t want to be friends with Macy, either, if she truly is how Gretchen paints her. “I don’t know.” I’m not being fair to Gretchen to discuss this without her here. I shouldn’t speculate. I’ll get the scoop another time. “Enough about that, though. Tell me about you. Did you always want to be a weatherman?”
“A weatherman? I prefer meteorologist.”
I sit down across from him. “Yes, Sir. Meteorologist.”
“Absolutely. Weather fascinates me. Spring, summer, fall, winter— I don’t favorite one over the other. I love them all.”
“The winter. Gross.”
“You’re not doing it right, then.”
“How do you do winter?”
“If the cold is what bothers you, buy the appropriate gear to bundle up. Then hit the slopes. Or go sledding. It’s not just for kids!”
“I would much rather curl up on the couch with a book.” Cold air taking my breath away? No, thank you.
“The summers are incredible, too. I love a good storm. When I attended the University of Oklahoma, I chased tornadoes.”
“No way! Tornadoes scare the daylights out of me. Especially at night.”
“They definitely scared me at times, but, wow, it was so exhilarating.”
“I can’t even imagine. If even the trace of a tornado makes a blip on the radar, I’m sealed up in my condo.”
“I want to be out in the action. Life’s too short to spend cooped up inside.”
What if you’re inside of yourself? What if you can’t escape your own nightmares? “I still prefer the indoors. Now, give me a beautiful seventy-five-degree day without a cloud in sight, and I’m happy.”
“Sure, sure. That’s good, too, but not very exciting.”
“Does everything have to be an adventure?”
“What’s fun about life if it’s not?”
We smile at each other and I think maybe he’s right. I’m sort of on an adventure myself, picking up and leaving town and starting over. I wish I could add him to my list of adventures.
“So, we bowl in a few days.” And we’ll get to hang out again.
“That we do.” His hands are wrapped around his mug and he’s smirking at me.
“I hope I don’t make a fool of myself. I was so embarrassed. I still am.”
“Don’t be. I’ve seen worse.”
“How is that possible?”
“Have you ever seen a five-year-old bowl?”
“Wait — are you comparing my bowling skills to that of a child?”
He sips his tea. “I sure am.”
I can’t be mad at him. He’s too damn cute. “I challenge you to a game.” I set my tea on the table and go into the living room. Kellan remains for a moment and then follows me.
“Challenge me to what?”
“Bowling.” I turn the television on and switch to my gaming system.
“You want to play a video game?”
He’s turning his head between me and the TV. I bet Macy can’t stand video games. I love them, but I need to be cautious with how much I play. I’m the one who gets mad, yelling and tossing the remote. I’m not a sore loser, except when it comes to this. “Yes. Chicken?”
He balks at me as he readjusts his sleeves. “Hardly. Prepare for an ass kicking.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for one?”
“You think you’ve got what it takes, huh?” A grin spreads across his face and I swear his teeth sparkle.
The menus are annoying to maneuver through, but I manage and set up a character for him. I let him go first.
“Fine. I’ll just humiliate you quicker.”
He stands tall, holding the remote against his chest as though it’s a real bowling ball. After a few moments of concentration, he steps his right foot back along and swings his hand forward. “Strike!”
Even though I’m giving him a hard time, his immediate strike deserves a high five, so I give him one. Our hands linger, touching, before he motions for me to take my turn. I follow his lead with a strike as well and this continues until we both achieve turkeys.
“This is so much easier than in real life.” As long as I keep my arm in the air and in a straight line, a strike is practically guaranteed.
“You think so, do you?” Kellan’s voice is sly. He’s cocky. I like it. He wears the attribute with humor.
My turn comes again and I pull the remote back, start to swing forward, and trip as Kellan shoves me aside. “Hey!”
“Gotta play dirty!”
My ball goes in the gutter and the fake audience on the TV gasps. “See, even they think you’re a jerk.” But he’s not. He’s fun. A lot of fun.
“Okay, okay, you win by my disqualification.”
I don’t like to claim victory in such a way, but I’ll take it. “I’d say great game, but you cheated, so … “
“It was still fun. Thanks for showing me your skills.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and I can’t help but wish I could show him my other talents.
Chapter
Fourteen
I arrive at the alley set to go, prepared to defeat myself and start off better than last time. Kellan and I had such a great time Wii bowling we never did make any of our appointments. I’m glad most allowed us to reschedule. My guilt isn’t as heavy as it should be, considering how upset I’m sure I would be if all my showings canceled, but my heart is content and my troubles fading. That trumps guilt.
Tonight my focus is on helping Gretchen. We play Lucy’s Lucky Strikes, and she’s determined to bowl an awesome game and shove it in her ex-classmate’s face. She explained how in middle school she and Kelly spent all their time together and once high school began, she latched onto a group of girls who treated everyone like a doormat. She’s waited her whole life for some kind of revenge and tonight is her opportunity. Juvenile? Perhaps. Deserved? Definitely.
I’m last from the team to arrive. Am I late? That’s not possible. I run ten minutes earlier than most people on the planet. I check my phone and I’m still early. “I thought maybe I got the time wrong.” I sit down next to Clark as I start to put on my shoes.
“Nah. Gretchen wanted to be on our lane beforehand to try and psych the other team out.”
“I didn’t get an email or text or I could have been here sooner.”
“I thought for sure she t
exted you. Mona was a tad ornery before we left. She probably got distracted.”
I don’t doubt that’s what happened, but I can’t help but worry this has something to do with my conversation with Kellan, or maybe even my first game. This is typical of me — jumping to conclusions. I’ll put my energy where it needs to be and practice.
I say hello to Gretchen, Kellan, and everyone else before I grab my ball and toss a few, getting a strike or spare almost every time. I’m on point this evening. I need my luck to continue, for my confidence level, and to bring in a win.
The game starts without me almost falling flat on my face and I knock down a respectable amount of pins. I’ll take it. By the final frame, we’re still winning, but the score is close. The entire time Gretchen eyes her enemy, and obvious tension exists between the two. Kelly doesn’t say too much directly to our team, but she sure disses us a lot to her teammates. Gretchen keeps her cool, and when Kelly isn’t insulting us to her friends, she’s distracted, and even drops the ball once, nearly hitting her foot. Regardless of what happens, I hope Gretchen realizes she won this one.
Gretchen goes right before her, and only two pins separate us. She takes her turn and knocks down eight, bringing her score to 193. It doesn’t matter if her opponent gets a strike; we’re winning this competition. She wants this moment, though. This is her time to show the Kellys of the world what she’s capable of and beat her in face-to-face combat. The alley is silent as the girl tosses the ball, knocking them all down and claiming victory over Gretchen. Clark’s Pin Crushers still won, but my friend looks defeated.
I walk over to her and put my arm around her. “Sorry, lady.”
“No big deal.” Her shoulders drop beneath my grip.
“Nice game, Gretchen,” a catty voice says from behind us.
She whips around and nearly knocks me over. “Stop. I don’t want to hear another word.” She’s pointing her finger at Kelly, whose smile I want nothing more than to smack off her face.
“Are you forgetting that we actually won the game?” I can’t help myself. Gretchen can handle this on her own, but I don’t like the way this person is treating my friend.
Kelly laughs nervously, unable to respond with a clever quip. “I don’t care. Kicking her ass was worth the loss.” I roll my eyes and hold back from sticking out my tongue as she walks away.
“You don’t need her.” Tiffany comes over to us and offers her support.
“You’re right, I don’t.” She hugs herself tight. “But I hoped to beat her. I, at least, wanted that.”
“You’re a winner in my book.”
Her eyes disappear behind her lids. “Corny, Kate. Real corny.”
“I do what I can.” The three of us burst into giggles like we’re in grade school. My stomach starts to hurt from laughing so hard.
“Um, Kate,” Tiffany taps my arm. “Someone is here for you.”
I turn around and Ned is standing up by the tables with a single rose in his hand. Great. He’s nice and all, but I don’t really see this going anywhere. I step up to him and he reaches the flower out to me. “Kate Hayes, will you accept this rose?”
“Am I on an episode of The Bachelor? Please, no. I have values.” I smile and take it from him, ashamed to admit I’ve let myself get sucked into that show in the past. “Thank you. This is very sweet.”
“Look, I had a nice time the other night. I hoped maybe you’d want to go out again.”
“Um …” What do I say here? As much as I want to be dating, the chemistry isn’t there. I’m not being fair to him if I I say yes and I’m not truly interested. Those eyes, though. He’s so sincere.
His lips pull into a frown and my lack of attraction is obvious. He touches my shoulder and I don’t react. “Let’s go out. Do something. That wasn’t a real date. Technically I was working. Let’s find something fun to do together.”
I think this over. I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, spending time with another human being who wants to be in my company. Perhaps if he isn’t on stage most of the evening we’ll both be more relaxed and can start over. But maybe this time, on my terms. “One condition.”
“What’s that?” A smile replaces the frown as well as a hint of excitement in his voice.
“I pick.”
“Deal. Tell me when and where.”
I tell him I’ll text him the information as soon as I come up with the perfect idea.
“What was that about?” Kellan approaches me the moment Ned leaves. “What’s the rose for?”
I inhale the scent before responding. “A nice gesture. We went out the other night and we just set another date.”
“Oh?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, not at all.”
“I don’t gather that from the rise in your voice.”
“Never mind. None of my business.”
Now I’m curious. He can’t say something like that and refuse to elaborate. “What? Tell me. I want to know.”
He rubs his elbow and shrugs his shoulder. “His past … is complicated.”
“Everyone considers their past a big mess. We leave it there and move on.” Or try as best we can.
“Things aren’t always that simple, Kate.”
“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, I don’t have anything to fear. Unless he’s some serial killer, I’m going out with him. Lord knows I need a few nights out.” A petal falls off the rose and I realize I’ve been massaging it between my fingers. Isn’t Ned his friend? Why does he even care who I go out with anyway?
His eyes lock on the petals it hits the ground. “Fair enough. Be careful, though, Kate.”
“Is he dangerous?” And if he is, I question why this group of people hang out with him.
“Only for your heart.”
Chapter
Fifteen
I stroll into the office fresh off a bowling win and my ego slightly boosted by a second date with Ned in my future. Sure, we’re not a perfect match in the way of shared interests, but, perhaps in this case, opposites will eventually attract. One evening together isn’t enough to base my attraction to him. These things take time, which I have plenty of. The next date will be better, at least, I hope. I’ll admit the way he asked me out intrigued me. Sure, he stole the gesture from a reality TV show, but I’m touched he made the effort.
"Hey Linda," I greet my boss as I walk past her office toward the common break area. I need to warm up my tea first thing this morning.
"Kate!" She races behind me and meets my stride. "Didn't you check your messages?” She’s panicked and frantically pawing at her phone.
"No." I pull my iPhone out of my purse. She's never this anxious. I’m nervous as to what’s so important. "My cell hasn't rung all morning." I power on the screen and I lift my eyebrows in disbelief. Three calls and seven texts missed. How did that happen? I never heard a notification.
"It must be on silent."
I check and sure enough, it is. I never silence my phone. I must have inadvertently done so when I reached into my bag.
"What's going on?" There's no reason to listen to my voicemail since she's right next to me and this appears so urgent.
We reach the break room and I fill my mug with water and shove it into the microwave. Linda begins talking as I press the button to cook for two minutes. "Janice Foley called here five times up in arms. Her property was burglarized.”
What? How is that possible? “What would someone want in that dump?”
She glares at me and I dip my chin to my chest. “Sorry.” I can’t help if the house is ridiculously disgusting. “Did they steal anything?” Linda didn’t keep many things theft-worthy.
“Scrap metal, anything they can sell. You need to go. Now. She’s furious and is blaming the firm.” She doesn’t look up from her screen, but she means business.
Taking immediate direction from my boss, I agree and jet out the door, leaving my hot water. I hop into my car and peel out of the parking lot
toward Janice’s dad’s house.
When I arrive, a squad car is pulling away. That’s squared away, so less for me to deal with and add to my day. I’m sure nothing will come from this. No one lives here and nothing valuable was taken, at least I assume. The police may come by every so often to make sure the thieves don’t return, but I don’t anticipate them spending a lot of time on this.
The front door is torn off the hinges, though that’s not much different than any other day. I step over the threshold into the living room, which is in shambles. I didn’t think it was possible for the house to look any more a disaster than it already did. Holes cover the walls and the carpeting is ripped through. If I thought selling this fixer-upper was going to be hard before, now it will be even worse.
“Kate — thanks for showing up.” Janice plows through the kitchen into the living room where I’m standing among the mess. “Maybe next time you care to answer your phone for your client.”
“So you’re still my client?” She makes snap decisions and I fully expect to be fired. The break-in wasn’t my fault, but I’m sure she’ll find a way to blame me.
She picks a scrap of carpeting up and tosses it aside. “Barely.”
I release a breath, both out of relief and fear. I don’t want to lose a potential sale, but I also don’t know how in the world I’m going to sell this. Ever. The only positive aspect is the neighborhood, despite the current circumstances. Crime is minimal in this area. The perfect client needs to be willing to put in work. Now I need to find someone who won’t find a total makeover overwhelming. “What happened?”
“What happened?” She throws her hands in the air. “I was robbed. Someone violated my privacy!”
Thanks for stating the obvious, Janice. “Well, I’m glad you don’t live here. At least no one was home.”
“Excuse me? You’re on thin ice here. It doesn’t matter if I live here, sleep here or just paint my nails here.”
Wait. Does she paint her nails here? I peek at her fingers and she definitely goes to a professional. I’m trying to spin this in a positive way, and I’m not surprised she can’t see that.
Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) Page 8