“Pick me up at seven?”
“See you then.”
“Okay, my dear friend, tell me everything,” Marie said to Karen the next day.
“Can you come over?” Karen asked.
“Where? Your house or Maurice’s?”
“Maurice’s. I’m all moved out of mine. I just put it on the market this morning.”
“I’ll bring the wine.”
Karen and Maurice sat on their living room sofa. Marie sat across from them. “We’re expecting,” Karen said.
“What?! I don’t believe it! When?”
“The middle of April.”
Marie got up from her chair. “Come here, you.” They hugged, and when they separated, Marie patted Karen’s stomach. “So you’re…let’s see, five months?”
Karen nodded. “Seems hard to believe, doesn’t it?”
“How long have you known?”
“The week before we got married. Actually, just a few days before.”
Marie studied Karen’s face, then Maurice’s. “You two look so happy.”
“We are,” they said in unison.
“Does your daughter know yet?” Marie asked Maurice.
“I told her last night. She has mixed feelings about it right now. I hope she’ll come around.”
“How about your ex?”
“Oh, I can pretty much guess what she’s saying about it. One kid in college, one I support but don’t see, and another one on the way.” He shook his head. “But she can say or think anything she wants. I’m happy.” He turned toward Karen and kissed her on the cheek.
“Oh my God, Karen. You’re going to have a baby!”
“I know.”
“So do you think it will be a boy or a girl?”
“Who knows?”
“Do you have any names picked out?”
“Clyde Edward if it’s a boy, and if it’s a girl…” Karen’s eyes welled up. “Anna Marie.”
“That is so sweet. Can I tell Rachael and Olivia?”
“Sure. It’s not a secret anymore.”
“Why isn’t he here yet?” Rachael asked.
“Because it’s only 6:55.”
“He’s sure cutting it close.”
Marie observed herself in the hall mirror for the umpteenth time. “It isn’t a matter of life or death if he’s a few minutes late.”
“I thought you told me it’s important to always be on time.”
“It is, but…”
“Maybe he’s going to stand you up,” Rachael suggested.
“What makes you think that?”
“Are you nervous about going out with him?”
“Well, I wasn’t until this conversation.”
Rachael ran to the window. “He’s here! Olivia, come out here.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry. Just leave everything to me.”
What is she up to? Marie went down to let Barry in. She had put on a navy blue striped knit top with coordinating skirt and heels. She hoped he wouldn’t show up in jeans, which was what he typically wore in his gun shop. When he arrived, she smiled, relieved to see dark dress slacks beneath his wool trench coat.
“Hi. Please come in.”
Rachael and Olivia were sitting next to each other on the sofa, hands clasped in their laps and smiles of their faces.
“Good evening, Mr. Stone. And how are you this lovely day?” Rachael asked in her rendition of a sophisticated tone and manner.
“Why, I’m fine, Miss Rachael, just fine. And you?”
“Oh, we’re fine too. Aren’t we, Olivia?”
Olivia looked up at Rachael and shrugged. Rachael nudged her with her elbow.
“Uh…nice water we’re having.”
Marie looked at Barry and shook her head and then went to the closet for her coat, which he took and held out for her to put on.
“Okay, my little wisenheimers, we won’t be late.” She turned to Rachael. “She’s to be in bed by eight.”
Rachael saluted. “Yes, Sergeant. But I’ll be up when you get back, so…”
“That will be enough, young lady.”
Rachael smiled. “Later, gator.”
Barry opened the car door for her. “What was that all about?” he asked.
Marie waited until he got behind the wheel of his car before responding. “Apparently Rachael thought it was necessary to give you a good impression on our first date.”
Barry smiled. “Too late. I already had that three years ago.”
She blushed, grateful for the dimly lit driveway as Barry turned the car around and headed toward the street.
He took her to DaVinci’s, a new Italian restaurant that had recently opened in Leavenworth. Marie’s pulse quickened when he parked the car—three doors down from Paul’s antique shop. Determined not to let anything or anyone ruin this date, she walked toward the restaurant, her arm linked in his, her head held high.
Like many of the businesses in this section of town, DaVinci’s had once been a Victorian home. Barry asked for a table in one of the smaller dining rooms. She smiled to herself when he pulled the chair out for her—memories of Richard’s good side. I’m not going to do that this time—compare him to Richard.
It was different talking to Barry like this, sitting directly across from him for an extended period of time. Up until then, her encounters with him had been under very different circumstances. They’d first met when she had decided to buy a gun for protection. She had been very nervous that day and couldn’t even look him in the eye for very long. Then, when he taught her how to shoot, he had been by her side, standing slightly behind her. And the unnerving time when Olivia had been abandoned at his shop, she hadn’t paid much attention to his personal side. This was nice. She asked about his family.
“Well, I told you a little about my twin.”
“What’s his name?”
“Henry.”
Marie laughed. “I mean what’s his real name?”
“Henry is his real name. We’re not sure where everything went wrong with him. My parents have had him evaluated by more than one doctor. They call it a delusional disorder. He’s very smart, much smarter than I, but he can’t hold a job because at any given time he could start acting like Henry VIII, or sometimes someone even worse.”
Marie couldn’t even imagine what he was describing. “What does he do? When he thinks he’s Henry VIII, that is.”
“He can fly into a rage at the drop of a hat, and he’ll complain about his wives, all six of them, and threaten to kill them. When he’s feeling particularly sorry for himself, he’ll walk with a limp, like the real king did.”
“Oh my.”
“But my parents handle it very well. They just go along with it, knowing he’s completely harmless and eventually will snap out of that character and be Hank again.”
“How did you end up in the gun shop business?”
“I’ve had a fascination with guns my whole life. My father and uncle own a saddle shop down the road, and when I turned eighteen, Dad bought the gun shop from a cohort of his who was moving out of state, and we ran it together until he trusted me enough to run it myself.”
“Your face lit up when you talked about your father.”
He smiled. “They don’t come any better.”
Barry asked Marie about her background, which she freely revealed.
“Hmm. College-educated,” Barry said. “I was lucky to make it through high school. Didn’t like being in school much. Now Hank, he’s another story. He has a degree in mathematics. He’s a genius in that area.”
“School isn’t the only place to get an education. It looks to me like you’ve done pretty well for yourself.”
“I suppose so. I don’t owe anything on the shop. My dad and I own it together, and I had to pull my half just like him.”
“I’m impressed, Mr. Stone.”
They shared a fruit and custard tart for dessert, Barry’s favorite. After they left, instead of dr
iving straight back to Marie’s apartment, Barry turned down a winding road that led to the river. He parked the car a few feet from the water. The moon was full, casting enough light for them to clearly see each other. The early winter air was brisk, so he left the car running and the heater on while they talked.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought maybe we could have a few minutes alone at the end of our date before I take you home.”
Marie laughed. “No, I know what you mean. There’s very little privacy in my house these days.”
His stare was soft. “You’re a very attractive woman.”
“Thank you.”
“I’d like to see you again.”
She turned toward him. His blue eyes were shining even in the dim light. “I’d like that.”
“Can I kiss you?”
She hesitated a few seconds, then smiled and leaned in for the kiss. His lips were soft and sensual, and the kiss lingered on Marie’s lips for several seconds.
He turned forward and put his hand on the gear shift, staring out at the water for a moment.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Then he put the car in gear and drove to Marie’s apartment.
He kissed her again before saying good night and then left with a slow smile on his lips.
CHAPTER 29
Barry
“Well, it’s about time,” Rachael said when Marie arrived home from her date with Barry.
“It’s ten-fifteen. What are you talking about?”
“How long does it take to…”
Marie’s glare stopped Rachael from finishing the sentence. “So how was it? Where did you go? What did you talk about?”
Marie wasn’t sure who was asking the questions—a daughter who was curious about what dating was all about, a friend who was just eleven years her junior, or her newfound protector. “It was fine. We went to DaVinci’s and talked.”
“About what?”
“Well, this was our first date, so we talked mostly about each other’s backgrounds.”
“So what’s his story?”
“He’s lived his whole life in Leavenworth. He has a twin brother and two parents there.”
“A twin? Cool.”
If she only knew.
“So are you going to see him again?”
She smiled. “Yes, I am. Is that okay with you?”
“Cool. I like the guy.”
“Well, good. I’ll sleep easy tonight.”
“Marie?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad you’re seeing someone.”
“Good night, Rachael.”
Ten minutes later, Barry called. “Hi. I was thinking about things, and well, uh…Christmas is this week, and I really don’t want to wait until next year to see you again. What are you doing Christmas Eve?”
“That’s Rachael’s and Olivia’s birthday.”
“I know. That’s why I asked. Do you have anything special planned for them?”
“I was just thinking of cooking their favorite meal and celebrating here at home.”
He told her about a hayride and barbeque hosted by the community center each year on Christmas Eve, a fundraiser for the less fortunate, and asked Marie if they would like to be his guests. Marie thought about it for a few seconds. “It sounds like fun. But since it is their birthday, how about if I run it past them first?”
“Fair enough. Let me know.”
“Tomorrow is one of our Scrabble talks, so I’ll ask Rachael then.”
“Scrabble talks?”
“Rachael and I started playing Scrabble a few months ago, and I think it was the third or fourth time we played when she formed the word ‘teacher.’ Then she looked at me in a way I knew she had something on her mind, and I asked her if she wanted to talk about it, and she proceeded to tell me about an incident she had had with one of her teachers. After that, it happened just about every time we played that one of us would form a word that sparked a conversation, so we started calling them our Scrabble talks.”
“Scrabble talks. I like that.”
When Marie told Rachael about the hayride the next day, she received a big smile.
“Are you kidding?” Rachael turned toward Olivia who was sitting at the table coloring. “Olivia! Do you want to go on a hayride?”
Olivia looked at Rachael with a blank stare. “A hayride, Olivia.” Rachael looked at Marie. “I don’t know the word for hayride.” She turned her attention back to Olivia. “Uh. ¿Quieres ir de paseo en un vagón grande?”
Olivia’s face lit up. “Sí!”
“Then it’s yes?” Marie asked.
“Like crazy.”
“I thought we could come back here afterward for cake and ice cream.”
“Cake and ice cream!” Olivia shrieked.
“Barry too?”
“Sure. Barry too”
“Barry too!” Olivia had been with them for barely two months, and already she was Rachael’s shadow. Marie wondered how she would feel when she realized Barry was the one who had shot at her father.
Whoa—slow down, Marie, she thought. You are getting way ahead of yourself.
Barry picked them up for the hayride at ten in the morning. Everyone was bundled up with multiple layers of clothing, scarves, hats, and mittens in order to deal with temperatures in the teens. Poor Olivia could hardly walk, and when she did, her shiny polyester leggings rustled.
Hundreds of people, mostly families, were there when they arrived. Five wagons, each holding twenty or so passengers, were loading up. Marie’s group huddled together in the corner of one of the wagons.
“Nice horsie,” Olivia kept saying as she watched the horse in the wagon behind them. “Rachael’s horsie.”
Barry and Marie sat on top of two hay bales stacked one on top of each other. Rachael and Olivia sat in front of them on another bale. Barry put his arm around Marie and gave her a gentle squeeze, the wind sharp against their faces.
“What do you think?” he asked her.
“It’s fun. Cold, but fun.”
He gestured toward Rachael and Olivia. Marie smiled. “Looks like they’re having fun.”
Rachael turned around. “You two can smooch back there if you want. We won’t look.”
Olivia giggled. Marie shook her head and gave Rachael a nudge in her back. “No comments from the peanut gallery.”
Rachael turned around. “Huh?”
“I have expressions, too, you know.”
The girls loved the hayride, but Marie was glad it lasted only a half hour.
“Did you have fun?” she asked Olivia. Olivia smiled wide and took Marie’s hand. Then she looked up at Barry and took his hand as well. Marie and Barry exchanged glances but didn’t say anything.
Barry brought them their hot drinks and then disappeared toward the back of the room where they were collecting the donations. When he reappeared, he said, “I like the way they do it. Whatever they collect today will buy things throughout next year for those who are in need. Food, clothing, and school supplies for the kids. It’s a good organization.”
Marie thought about how Rachael and Olivia could have been on the receiving end of this type of fundraiser under different circumstances.
“Do you have plans for the girls for this afternoon, or can I surprise them with something?” Barry asked.
She looked at him, puzzled. “Well…we like surprises.”
He took Marie’s arm. “C’mon girls, let’s go to my place.”
Marie had been to Barry’s home several times three years earlier when he’d showed her how to shoot but had never been inside his house. She gave him a soft smile when she saw his dining room table that had been set for four, picnic style. “What if I had said we had other plans?” she asked.
“Then I’d be eating fried chicken and potato salad the rest of the week.”
“So you cook?”
“Ha! Hardly,” he said. Marie helped him take things out of the ref
rigerator and put them on the table. “We have this great delicatessen, Rosie’s. Best fried chicken in town.”
Along with the fried chicken were potato salad, buttermilk biscuits, pickles, and olives. “I thought it would be fun to have a summer picnic in the middle of winter. Goes with the hayride.”
“Cool,” said Rachael.
“Yeah, cool,” Olivia piped up.
Marie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You’re rubbing off on her,” she said to Rachael.
“I know. Isn’t that a tickle?”
Barry’s house, a long narrow ranch, was decorated the way Marie had pictured it—a little rugged but cozy. What she didn’t expect to see were several pieces of original artwork, one of which she recognized as a Durand.
“Are you two girls ready for your birthday present?” Barry asked after they finished eating.
Olivia perked up. “Present?”
“I’m ready,” Rachael said.
“Get dressed then. We’re going outside.”
Marie shot him a glance and scrunched up her face. What did he have in mind?
Barry led them outside to a large barn where four horses were saddled and ready to go. “You’re all set,” a smallish middle-aged man said to Barry. A younger woman, equally as short, came out from one of the stalls and stood beside the man.
Barry faced Marie. “This is B.B. Starr and his daughter, Josie. They live in the guest house and take care of the horses and the property.” He introduced Marie and her family to the Starrs.
“Olivia has never been on a horse before,” Marie said.
“I’ll walk beside her while she rides on Annie here,” Josie said, and put her arm around the smallest horse’s neck. “She’s very gentle, I assure you.”
Marie stooped down to Olivia’s level. “Do you want to ride the horsie, Olivia?”
She smiled wide and nodded. Rachael went to the middle-sized horse and mounted it by herself. Barry gestured to a long-necked chestnut mare for Marie, and he took the remaining horse, a large black mare.
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