by Seana Kelly
When I got to the top of the stairs, his bushy tail was rounding the corner at the bottom on its way to the kitchen.
I’d found a wedding photo of Grandpa and Gran when I was cleaning a few weeks ago. I’d polished and hung it on the wall along the stairs so I could see it every day. I slowed now, as I often did, to say good morning.
They were married at Holy Redeemer, a beautiful stone church in town, the one we always attended when I visited. In the photo they’re standing on the steps, just having emerged from the huge open double doors. They are surrounded by cheering friends and family whose arms are raised, rice flying, appearing to be caught in an unseasonable snowstorm. But even in the midst of that joy, your eye couldn’t help but be drawn to the young, incandescent couple at its center, clutching one another’s hands and running through the onslaught, ready to face whatever life threw at them, together.
My wedding photos were staged and elegant. We looked perfect but lacked what my grandparents had. There was no room for the chaos of love and life in the facade of a perfect wedding, a perfect marriage. Perfection was a cold and lifeless thing.
By the time I got to the kitchen, Chaucer was sitting by the pantry door, his food bowl clamped in his mouth, just in case I was confused about what should happen first.
“Man, you’re a nag.” I took his bowl and nudged him away so I could open the pantry door to fill his dish. He didn’t even wait for the dish to hit the floor before he started inhaling the kibble. “Slow down! If you choke, I have no idea how to give a dog the Heimlich.” I opened the back door for him. “Seriously, are you under the impression that if you eat it quickly enough, I’ll just forget I’ve fed you and fill your bowl again? It’s never going to happen, bud. Give up the dream.”
I walked out onto the porch. The morning was chillier than yesterday, burnished leaves swirled in the wind, waves pounded the nearby cliff. Chaucer brushed past me on his way to the little boy’s room in the forest.
I was just turning around to start the coffeemaker when I heard his deep, anxious bark. I jogged out to the porch again, looking for him, listening to the increasingly insistent howling. “Chaucer, where are you?” I ran out and found him crouched by the storm-cellar doors, growling, then whining as he scratched at the door. I went to him, weaving my fingers into his ruff. “What is it, baby? What’s down there?”
It better not be another fawn. Just in case it was, I took out my phone and called the first person I thought of. It went straight to voice mail. “Hi, Connor. That growling and barking you’re probably hearing is Chaucer, pawing at the cellar door. I could totally do this on my own, because I am not the least bit afraid of dark, cobweb-ridden, rodent-filled cellars. At all. I just thought you might be bored and interested in going down there first. I didn’t want to cheat you out of a manly experience.” I took a deep breath and braced myself. “Okay, I’ve probably stalled long enough. I’ll keep you on the phone, so to speak, just so you don’t miss a bit of the action. Here goes.” I heaved the door open, and the biggest rat I’d even seen came running out, scampering over my slippers, heading for the trees. I screamed. I’m not proud, but, holy hell, that thing was huge!
“Sorry, sorry,” I said into the phone. “I’m fine. Chaucer! Get back here! Right now, mister. That thing probably has rabies. At the very least, it’s been irradiated. I mean, that rat must have been two feet long. What the hell is with Maine rats—oh, wait, was that an opossum? I’ve never seen one, only heard their squeaky conversations with those damn snarky marmosets. Huh. Okay, never mind.” I hung up.
Two hours later, I was on my knees in the garden, weeding. Chaucer had flopped down under a nearby tree. Suddenly he sat up, giving a soft woof. When I looked around, I found Connor watching me, a tender expression on his face.
“Hello, honey. It sounded like you had a big morning. Any more irradiated rodents come looking for you?” He enjoyed a good laugh at my expense.
I rolled my eyes and stood, brushing off the knees of my jeans. “Whatever. How the heck am I supposed to know what an opossum looks like? For all you know, you do have radioactive varmints running around in these woods. You’ll be sorry you mocked me when one bites you in the butt, and you mutate into some creepy rat man.”
He continued chuckling while I put away the gardening tools. “Not that you deserve my hospitality, but would you like a drink, Connor?”
“I’d love one, thanks.” His eyes twinkled.
He strolled up to the porch while I went in for refreshments. I filled a tray with two glasses of iced tea and a plate of cookies.
He looked surprised when I returned to him. “Mmm, what are these?”
“Pumpkin snickerdoodles. It seemed like a good idea. Let me know what you think.”
He bit into one and his eyes fluttered closed. My pride swelled.
“Delicious! So, word is you went on a date with Bear a couple of weeks ago.”
“I guess nothing’s secret in this town.” I took a cookie and said, “I realize I barely know him, but I love that guy.”
The smile fell off Connor’s face. “Oh, is that so?”
“What?” Shit. Was he a serial killer after all?
Connor recovered himself. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to fall for him so quickly.”
I could feel my cheeks heat. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. We had a great time, and he was totally fun. I just really like him is all.” I took a cookie. “He seemed annoyed when Aiden showed up.”
Connor choked a little on his iced tea. “Aiden showed up on your date?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. He said he saw my car in the parking lot of the Chart Room, so he came in to say hi. He ended up sitting down and eating with us.” I jumped up. “Which reminds me.”
I ran in the house and retrieved Aiden’s hat from the table by the stairs. I didn’t want to keep the hat of someone who didn’t want to know me. I brought it back and handed it to Connor. “Could you return this to Aiden for me? He loaned me his hat.”
Connor stared at me for a moment. “Aiden crashed your date, gave you a hat and invited himself to sit down and eat with you. Is that right?”
“I wouldn’t call it a crash. He just happened to be there, and I asked him to have a seat.”
He nodded, smiling. “Well, isn’t that interesting.” He slapped his thigh with the hat and stood. “Yes, it is. I’ve got to be getting on now. How about I take you to dinner tonight?”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that. I could make something for us right here.” I stood, too, feeling awkward, unsure of why he was leaving so soon.
“How long has it been since you’ve had fresh Maine lobster?”
Chaucer walked up and bumped my hip. My hand automatically went to his head. “Fifteen years, at least.”
“See there, far too long. I’ll come back around six. I’m not much for driving anymore, so do you think you could do the honors for our dinner date?”
“Of course.”
He turned to leave, making his way down the stairs. “Good, good. I’ll see you this evening then.”
I turned to Chaucer. “Now, what do you suppose that was about?”
I brought the full tray back into the kitchen. I’d left Bear’s card next to the phone. I thought about the crack in the plaster ceiling in the spare room. I went in this morning to consider paint colors and noticed it. I also had a leaky faucet in the downstairs bathroom.
I dialed and he picked up right away. “Good morning, beautiful!”
I stayed silent, trying to figure out if he thought I was someone else.
“Kate?” He sounded confused.
“Oh, you did mean me. Good morning to you, too.” The easy compliment made me smile and relax.
“What can I do for you?” His voice had a strange echo.
“I was just wondering if you
had time to do a couple of jobs for me. I’m slowly working on making Gran’s place feel like my own, and I’ve found some problems, a cracked ceiling and a leaky faucet.” I paused. “If that’s not the kind of thing you do, could you recommend someone?”
“I asked Nellie to let me fix that ceiling two years ago. I did all kinds of handyman stuff for her, and I’ll extend the service to you, too. Mainly I design and build things, but I’m pretty handy, as well.”
“You’re pretty handsy. I’ll give you that.”
He laughed. “Anything for the future mother of my children. We’ll have four. Did I tell you?”
Why couldn’t he be the one I wanted? He was sweet and funny and sexy as hell. Clearly, I had been an asshat in a previous life, and I was paying for it in this one. “Four? That means I’d have to have sex with you four times. I did not agree to that. Maybe if you were a better kisser...”
“A challenge, I like that. I’ll be by this afternoon to look at your house and to lay one on you that’ll have you rethinking your assessment of me. Personally, I’m good for four times a day, but if you can’t keep up with me...”
I hung up on him, laughing. “Okay, Chaucer, let’s go check the rest of the house and make a list for Bear. Your new best friend will be here soon.”
I heard Bear’s truck a couple of hours later. Chaucer stood by the door, tail wagging, waiting to get at him. I opened the door, and Chaucer was off like a shot but he stopped himself before he jumped.
Bear gave Chaucer a strong, full-body rub, and Chaucer fell to the porch in bliss. Bear stepped over my dog, grabbed me, dipped me and laid a huge kiss on me.
When he stood me back up, all I could say was wow.
With a huge, self-satisfied grin, he nodded. “That’s right.”
“No, I meant the dip. The dip was awesome. The kiss—” I grimaced “—meh.”
He sighed. “I know. I worried when you said wow. Okay, let’s fix stuff!” He clapped his hands together, walking into the house, Chaucer jumping up to follow.
I followed, as well. “You know, you look damn hot in that tool belt.”
He turned to wink at me. “Why do you think I became a contractor? I make this look work.”
I had six things to show him, and they turned out to be minor enough that he could easily get them all done in a day. When I asked how much it would cost, he laughed.
“I’ll pass on Nellie’s discount to you, especially as you let me kiss you whenever I feel like it.”
I screwed up my face in distaste. “Feeling kind of whorish now. Getting kissed on a semiregular basis made me feel like a free spirit. If I’m getting compensated for it, I just feel dirty.”
“I see. Does it bother you enough to pay full price?”
“Oh, hell, no. Maybe I’ll try on dirty for a little while. Take it for a test spin, if you will.”
“I knew I liked you.” He stepped closer and picked me up. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
“Um. No.” I was dangling in the air, trying not to laugh.
“You’re not getting any lighter, woman. Put your legs around me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, you big whiner.” I put my arms on his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist. His grip shifted to my ass. I lifted my eyebrows at that.
“I’m trying to more securely support your weight. I take no pleasure in this.” He then squeezed my butt and pulled me up higher. Our naughty bits were nowhere near each other, thankfully. “Now that you’re feeling dirty, I thought we could try this again. On three, we try out our dirtiest kisses. One. Two. Three.”
His mouth crushed mine, his tongue invaded, wrestling with my own, as his hands continued to caress my butt. After a moment, during which I had the presence of mind to think that he was a darn good kisser, I called the experiment a failure. “Dude, you want to get your hands off my butt now?”
“But my hands love your ass. Don’t make my hands give up their new favorite plaything. It’s cruel.”
I smacked his shoulder. “All right. Enough of this.” I tried to hop down, but he wouldn’t unhand me. Consequently, I was hanging two feet off the ground, my face still close to his, my butt still firmly in his hands.
He squinted at me, as though trying to figure out a puzzle. “Why isn’t this working? You’re hot, you’re funny and I genuinely like you. Why aren’t we losing our shit over each other?”
I thought of Aiden and shrugged. “Is there someone else you’d rather be dirty kissing?”
His gaze slid to the right. “Nah.” He let me down. “Okay, I better get a few of these things done while I’m here. I’ll finish up tomorrow or the next day. It depends on how my other jobs are going.”
A few hours later, Bear had completed all but the ceiling, promising to be back soon to fix it.
He had only been gone a few minutes when I heard Connor return. “Katie, honey, are you here?”
I walked back to the kitchen. “Hi, Connor. You just missed Bear.”
He stopped to pet Chaucer. “Oh, why was he here?”
“Doing some repairs for me. I’m sorry. I haven’t had time to change for dinner. Can you give me a minute?”
He shooed me away. “Go, go. Chaucer and I are going to go sit out back, so take your time.”
When I returned a few minutes later, Connor asked, “Are you hungry?”
My stomach answered for me.
“I may be going deaf but I heard that. Tiny thing like you, we need to keep your strength up.” We moved back through the French doors into the dining room, and Connor stopped to make sure the door was secure before saying, “I promised lobster. Does that still sound good to you?”
I grabbed his arm. “Do you understand how much I’ve been looking forward to that lobster all day?”
He brought his big mitts in for a loud clap. “Now you’re talking. This is prime lobster season, and Artie was telling me that they’ve been hauling in some big ones, the last few weeks in particular. Come on, my girl, let’s get moving.”
I looked down at a hopeful Chaucer. I scratched his head and let him down easy. “Sorry, buddy. I can’t take you with me this time. You could sit in the car and wait for us, but that doesn’t seem like much fun.” I walked him back to the kitchen. “How about I leave you with a treat?” I pulled a bully stick from the pantry and handed it over. He had it trapped securely in his big jaw but gave me the downcast, poor-dog look, as well. I leaned over and kissed his massive, furry head. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
“Honey, what’s this?” Connor’s voice floated down the hall from the living room.
I found him holding a scrap of paper with a vacant property’s address and the leasing agent’s phone number. “Oh, just a silly thought.” I was embarrassed and tried to retrieve the information.
Connor easily eluded my reach and pocketed the paper. “You can tell me all about this silly thought of yours over dinner.”
When I pulled a long, belted sweater coat in aubergine from the closet under the stairs, Connor took it from me and held it open so I could slip it on. “Now, this is a good, warm sweater. Did you get it from Maureen?”
I spun, showing off the ensemble. “Yep.” I pointed down. “And the boots!” I swiveled my foot around, still in love with the charcoal gray suede, wedge-heeled boots. They would be worth eating nothing but ramen for a year. Totally.
He chuckled, placing my hand in the crook of his elbow to escort me out. “You look pretty as a picture. Come on, let’s eat.”
As I drove, Connor directed me downtown to Galyn’s on Main Street, a converted 1890s’ boardinghouse for local fishermen. The architectural aspects of the historic building remained, but the rooms were now filled with dining tables.
Connor chatted with our host before we were seated at a table, right against the wind
ow looking out over Agamont Park and the pier. The view was breathtaking, the sky turning pink in the early evening, the water turning to a deep indigo.
He looked over his menu and then pulled his phone from his pocket. He looked down at the screen, smiled and then pocketed it again. “Well, I’m going for the Lazy Man’s Lobster. Let them do all the work shelling it, so all I have to do is eat it.” He looked at me, eyebrows raised over the menu top. “Traditional boiled, stuffed, Newburg, what are you in the mood for?”
The waiter dropped off some water and a basket of bread. I tore off a piece, while continuing to peruse the menu. I hadn’t eaten anything besides a few snickerdoodles today, and I was starting to feel a little light-headed. “I think for my first Maine lobster in fifteen years, I will opt for the traditional boiled. It’s a classic for a reason, right?”
The waiter, a young man with shaggy hair and a lip ring, returned a few minutes later. “Hey, Mr. Cavanaugh, have you and your date made your decisions yet?”
“Kenny, I want you to meet Miss Katie Gallagher. She’s Nellie’s granddaughter and is living in Nellie’s house.” I shook our waiter’s hand. “Katie, this is Kenny Davis. Do you remember that little boy who—”
“Ah, come on, Mr. Cavanaugh. You don’t need to remind her of that.” Kenny looked pained, but amused at having his childhood discussed.
“Now, son, Katie’s basically family.” Connor turned back to me. “Do you remember that little boy who wore a New England Patriots football helmet everywhere he went?”
My eyes went wide as I took in our waiter with a new appreciation. “That was you?” I clapped. “You were awesome! I swear, you just made me giggle every time I saw you. How the heck did you see with that huge thing on your head all the time?” It had been an adult’s helmet on a little boy. I’d always see his nose through the eyehole. I could never figure out how he didn’t run into things constantly.