“She wants to be a photographer. Did you know that?”
“She mentioned it last night—for the first time. Says she’s been taking photos for years, but she never showed me any of them.”
“Why not?”
He frowned. “I guess she didn’t want me to see them.”
“She didn’t think you’d be interested. She wants to be a freelancer. She’s good, too.”
“Have you seen her work?”
“I don’t have to. I can tell from the emotion she puts into everyday living that her photos are good. Better than good. Excellent. Intuitive. Emotional. I can tell by watching her frame a shot. She doesn’t just point and click. She takes pains to make sure the light is exactly right. She moves up and back, side to side, finding exactly the right composition, and always takes several shots of each thing from different angles. There are skills and depths in that woman you’ve never seen.”
“So now you’re an expert on Chloe and a mind reader?”
“I’ve just been paying attention. I’ve been where you are now. I know what it’s like to work so long every day that I can’t think of anything but figures and projections. Plan lunch then cancel it because my desk never got any cleaner, even though I worked longer hours every day, or because Sherry called to cancel first. Couldn’t go to a movie or take a walk, or just sit on the couch so we could hold each other, because my briefcase weighed ten pounds with overdue work—and so did hers.
“Sherry wasn’t half the woman Chloe is. I can’t believe Chloe hung around Houston as long as she did, waiting for you to wise up.”
“Ever occur to you she might have loved me too much to leave?”
“Up to a point. But then you became a habit. It’s hard to break a habit that’s gone on for too many years. But it can be done, once you decide there’s nothing in it for you but pain. Moving away is the first step.”
“And you expect her to fall for you after being out of Texas a week?”
“All in Chloe’s good time. I could travel a million miles and not find another woman who could measure up. I knew, the minute I heard what you’d put her through, that she and I want the same things—an easy way of life without ten hours every day behind a desk. Serenity that only mountains can deliver. And Chloe’s photographs, framed and on our living room wall. Hell, on every wall in the house! And, clean air for our children to breathe, in a place where fishing and hiking mean more than video games or fancy cars.”
Greg curled his lip at that. “Chloe loved me once.”
Kyle didn’t respond, except with a smug smile. The fish salesman was finally getting the message. Chloe might have loved him once, but she didn’t anymore. Satisfaction trickled through Kyle like warm honey.
They sat in silence until Chloe opened the screen door and came out on the porch. She sat down on a ladder-back chair. “You guys missed some great pork chops.”
“Pork chops! Now I know I’m going to melt away to nothing.” Kyle held his complaining stomach.
“She has plenty left over for anyone who’s hungry about bedtime. She tells me there’s a barbecue scheduled, before the dance.”
“Thank goodness.” Kyle rocked back and forth in the swing, his stomach growling low and long, like a hound dog that’d spotted a tasty rabbit in the yard.
Greg rested his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers when his stomach did an imitation of Kyle’s.
“Kyle tells me you want to be a freelance photographer.”
Chloe glanced at Kyle with a questioning look before answering, wondering what else they’d been talking about. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He reached for another rock. Instead of throwing it, he turned it over and over in his hand.
“I didn’t think you cared.”
Greg glared at Kyle for a brief moment. “Of course I cared. I can’t read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted to be a photographer?”
“We discussed it years ago, when you first started working for GCS and had Vice Presidency stars in your eyes. You said it might make a nice hobby. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”
“Well, I don’t, so refresh my memory.”
“You decided I should have a job that would provide a steady extra income during your first years at GCS. Most of what I made would be put into savings toward a down payment on a house. Instead of going to college, I took some courses and became a legal secretary. It had to be legal, you said—more money.”
Greg’s shoulders rounded and his head drooped to his chest. “I remember all that. But you never said anything about being a photographer.”
“Would it have mattered? Your education and your job mattered most. You said so dozens of times.”
“So you gave up your dream to help me achieve mine.”
She leaned back against the porch railing, letting silence speak for her.
Kyle got up from the swing. “I think I’ll see if Byrdie needs help packing pies into boxes. It’ll be time to leave before we know it. At least it had better be, or there won’t be any pies left for the contest.” He went into the house and left them alone. The pain he felt in his gut didn’t come from hunger. Why did he have to bring all that up, anyway? Now, that fish salesman could try and make things right. Promise he’d let her achieve her dreams. Blow more smoke up her skirt.
He had to be crazy, clueing Greg in to the mistakes he’d made, then leaving them alone to talk things out. But he wanted Chloe to come to him freely, without any strings tying her to the past. If she and Greg were destined to patch their broken relationship, it had to be done now, before Kyle fell deeper in love with her.
As though that hadn’t already happened.
<><><>
Greg stared across the front yard. “If I’d known—”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything. We wouldn’t have done things any differently, even if I’d told you. I loved taking photos and thought learning developing techniques and lenses and filters and everything that goes with photography would be fascinating. But I didn’t know if I could make a career of it. Now that I’m getting started on the next phase of my life, I want to find out if I’m any good. If not, I’ll find something else. Do you understand?”
“Sure, I understand, but why here? You could be a photographer in The Woodlands. There are trees and rivers and wildflowers there, too.”
Chloe shook her head sadly. “You don’t understand.”
He stood up, leaving her sitting on the steps, and paced out into the yard. “How can I? You’re expecting me to read your mind again, and I’m no good at it. Tell me what it is I’m supposed to understand!”
Chloe stood up and dusted off her jeans. “All right. I hated living in a big city. I hated smog, traffic, road rage, millions of people pushing, shoving, with angry expressions on their faces most of the time. I hated having to sit at a word processor, day in and day out, my fingers sore from typing hundreds of pages every day, bringing home hours of work because there was never time to finish everything at the office.
“I hated working all the time and never seeing you, except when you were exhausted or when you could fit me into your busy schedule for a few minutes. I didn’t feel like a person anymore. I was a robot, working, sleeping, working, sleeping, with an occasional interruption from you when you needed a meal or someone to rub your tired shoulders.” She took a deep breath. “But most of all, seeing you kiss Ellen Delacorte—not once, but several times—with your hands caressing her face and … your smile when you gazed into her eyes …“How long since she’d seen that smile? She took a deep breath. “It killed something inside me. I know I should forgive you for it, and perhaps, someday, I’ll be able to. Right now, though, I can’t. I won’t.”
Greg avoided her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know words are meaningless, but I don’t know what else to say. Tell me what I can do to make things right again and I’ll do it.”
“There isn’t anything you can do. I used to leave
every decision to you, concede my preferences to yours, thinking it didn’t matter. But I won’t do that anymore. My life is mine, and mine alone. I’ll decide how I want to live it. I’m sorry if it isn’t convenient for you, but I can’t go on giving up my dreams.”
Greg shook his head sadly.
Kyle pushed the screen door open with a large box in his arms. “Sorry to intrude, but we’re going to be late if we don’t leave right now. Greg, would you grab that other box in the kitchen? If Byrdie tries to lift it, the pies are bound to end up on the floor, she’s so wound up.”
Greg pushed up from the steps and went inside to get the box. Chloe walked ahead of Kyle to his pickup, which was parked at the curb with the tailgate down, waiting to transport the boxes.
Kyle tried to tell Chloe with his eyes what he felt in his heart. He’d given them every chance to mend their differences, but it hadn’t happened. He’d been listening, just inside the door. His heart had soared at what she’d said to him. He’d also heard her say that her life was hers alone. That was something he had to remember.
He set the box down carefully. Greg arrived with the second box and set it next to the first.
Cindy came out of the house. “Dishes are done! You guys missed the best pork chops and golden potatoes this side of Memphis! Too bad there weren’t any left.”
Kyle made a face. “I thought—”
Cindy patted his back. “Just enough for me, sugar, but maybe, if you’re sweet, I’ll let you have one or two.”
“Whata ya mean, if I’m sweet? I’m always sweet.”
“Only when you have to be. You tend to forget about tying my shoes together and dangling me, head down, over the river until the top of my head got wet. But, I won’t ever forget. Chloe, don’t ever wear high-top tennis shoes with long laces. You wouldn’t think it’s possible to tie knots the size of your fist from that little piddly amount of string, but Kyle can do exactly that.”
Greg held out one hand to Cindy and pulled her into the bed of the pickup. “We’re going to ride shotgun to make sure these pies don’t fall off the truck.”
“Isn’t that a little like leaving—”
“—the wolf in charge of the hen house?” Greg nodded. “Exactly. Take it easy, truck driver. As we found out this morning in the sack race, bouncing around isn’t my style.”
Chloe and Kyle got into the truck.
“Ready, darlin’?”
She nodded. He rubbed little circles on the back of her hand, wishing there was something he could do to wipe away that trace of a frown on her face.
They went back downtown, with Cindy talking non-stop to Greg, while Chloe remained as silent as the mountains towering around them. Kyle found the table where the pie eaters would sit during the contest. Kyle pointed out a tall, slender man wearing bright blue trousers, a red shirt and white suspenders. “That’s Doc Hays. He came in second in this contest last year.”
“He’s awfully thin to have come in second.”
“If you’d ever seen him at a church supper, you’d appreciate his capacity. Eats all he wants, but never gains a pound. We had blueberry last year. Since peach pies are more filling than blueberry, it’ll be a slower contest this year.” Kyle placed a huge bib on his chest and asked Chloe to tie the strings behind his neck. Cindy did the same for Greg.
“I think I may be outclassed on this one, too, ladies,” Greg said evenly. “With a mouth like Stanton’s, I hardly have a chance.”
“Do we still have to kiss the winner?” Cindy asked innocently. “Even with pie all over his face?”
Kyle adjusted his chair to best advantage, testing the distance between his mouth and the table, until he had everything set just right. “Absolutely. In fact, if I win this one, I may kiss every woman in town.”
The announcer called for attention. There were ten entered in the first round—eight men and two women. A large peach pie with double crusts was placed in front of each one.
“The top crust must be eaten. The bottom crust can be left,” the announcer told the crowd. “The use of hands will mean instant disqualification. Are you ready, pie eaters?”
They all signaled ready.
“On your marks, get set—eat!” Ten people dipped into ten peach pies.
The crowd went crazy! Screams and whistles urged them to eat faster and faster, and a cheer went up when Bernie Schwartz, on the far left end, raised his head, signaling he was finished with the first pie. He appeared to be roughly half the size of the mountain behind him, and Chloe wasn’t a bit surprised to see him take the lead. Another pie took the place of the first. Bernie’s teeth almost bit fingers instead of pie, he was so quick to get started eating again. Doc Hays was two bites behind him.
Kyle finished his pie one bite ahead of Greg. They glanced around before diving into their second pies. Bernie was breaking into his fourth before they were ready for their third. The gun sounded, ending the first round. Bernie and Doc advanced. Ten more contestants came forward to take their places, and before long, the second round had begun. Bernie and Doc advanced to the third round, which determined the winner. Doc Hays came out on top by one peach!
Peaches dripping from Kyle’s chin matched the peaches in Greg’s eyebrows.
Chloe told Kyle, “Licking your lips to clean up will be fruitless, I’m afraid.”
They all cackled at that.
Chloe and Cindy pulled them through the crowd, and gave the two sticky faces a quick scrub with a wet face cloth so they could see through the peach juice in their eyes.
Kyle, still squinting one eye, asked, “Who won?”
“Bernie was a whole pie ahead of you guys. Between you two—I don’t have a clue.” Chloe gave his face another swipe.
“I think it must have been a tie.” Greg swallowed hard and belched.
Kyle belched, too. “Yeah, a tie.”
“In that case, you both get a kiss,” she told them, “but it’ll have to be quick ones.”
“We’re just covered in good old peach pie, darlin’.” Kyle reached for her.
“Oh, no you don’t!” She backed away, laughing at the mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Greg had already cornered Cindy, pulled her against him and covered her with peach pulp and bits of crust.
“Come on, Chloe, give us a kiss.” Kyle plastered his sticky lips on hers.
There was no use fighting it now. The damage had already been done. With pleasure, she pulled his sticky mouth against hers. Aching suddenly to hold him close, she forgot the cheers and whistles and simply savored the peachy flavor of Kyle’s mouth.
Cindy, washing her own face with the sticky cloth, explained to everyone within earshot the terms they’d set for the contest. Everyone agreed Kyle and Greg got the best end of the deal, win or lose.
Chapter 15
They went straight to the fire hose contest, persuading the teams to allow them to be in front of the line. By the time Kyle’s team had been driven over the line by Greg’s team, their faces were clean, and their bodies soaked to the skin. It was time to take a break and get ready for the barbecue, barn dance, and fireworks.
When they got back to the boarding house, Byrdie wasn’t there, so Kyle directed Greg to the shower upstairs, Chloe and Cindy to Byrdie’s private bath, while Kyle used the bath on the top floor, used only when the house was overflowing, which it was this weekend.
When Cindy appeared ten minutes later, hair wet, smile as bright as ever, wearing one of Byrdie’s house dresses, Chloe took her turn in the shower. She loved the sting of hot water on her skin, washing away all traces of the sticky peach juice. If only all traces of indecision could swirl down the drain, along with the peaches, and leave her mind squeaky clean too.
<><><>
Kyle paced back and forth on the front porch. Five thirty. Almost time to leave. He hadn’t seen Greg for the past hour. Cindy was gone, too.
Kyle hadn’t had a chance to warn Cindy about the fish salesman. Tomorrow, though, he’d make sure she knew e
xactly who she’d spent the day with—and why. If Darrin could’ve come to Ouray for the Fourth, things would’ve been a lot different. Greg would have had a different date—someone Kyle didn’t know. Maybe everything had happened for the best. He knew Cindy’s heart was encased in iron and not in danger of breaking. He wished his heart had the same protection.
<><><>
When Byrdie got home, she pulled out a turquoise square dance dress she’d worn in high school, “when she was just a skinny little thing,” and insisted Chloe wear it to the dance. It was crepe with bands of white lace running horizontally around the skirt and had a gathered lace ruffle at the shoulders. The dress came complete with matching lacy “petite pants” that went halfway to the knees, for “twirling without worry.”
When Chloe came out on the porch and whirled around for Kyle, he whistled until she blushed to match the geraniums.
“You’re the prettiest thing I ever saw, Chloe. A sight to make my knees shake.” He took her hand and whirled her around again, then into his arms.
Chloe felt affectionate and playful in the new dress, and kissed him without the slightest embarrassment. “You’re good for me, Kyle. You make me laugh.”
His smile melted. “You make me weak in the knees. I wish I could show you—”
Greg and Cindy drove up. Cindy was wearing a similar dress, red with white lace, with a big red bow in back. Greg frowned when she reached for his hand, but didn’t pull away.
“Getting started on the dance a little early, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. Hi, Cindy. You look gorgeous, as usual. Where have y’all been?” Kyle laced his fingers with Chloe’s and smiled when she squeezed his fingers.
When Greg didn’t answer, Cindy did. “We went out to my house so I could put on this fancy dress Byrdie pulled out of her closet and insisted I wear tonight. Looks like she had one for you, too, Chloe. We’ll be twinkies! Kyle, I swear, you’re wearing the same string tie I gave you for Christmas in the eighth grade. Seems like you’d buy a new one.”
Kiss Me, Chloe Page 14