Come Together

by Marie Force

  “Can I ask you something?” she asked.

  “I guess so.”

  He sounded wary, and considering their past interactions, she couldn’t blame him. “Is it me or women or architects in general you don’t like?”

  His deep sigh conveyed a world of angst. “None of the above. I have four sisters, three close female first cousins and was raised mostly by a single mom with a lot of help from her sister. I have nothing against women. I promise you that.”

  “Is it me, then? You just took an immediate dislike to me?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “That leaves architects, then.”

  “I’m not a huge fan of architects. I’ll admit that.”

  “Ah-ha! We have a winner. What is it about my colleagues and me that you don’t like?”

  “It’s not that I don’t like architects. It’s that your people always think you know better than the person doing the actual work.”

  “Often, we do know better.”

  He grunted out a laugh at her sassy reply. “I shoulda seen that coming.”

  “Well, it’s true. We’re the ones who drew the plans. Doesn’t it stand to reason that we might know the project a tiny bit better than the contractor?”

  “Not necessarily. What do you think I do first when I land a new job?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I learn those plans inside and out. I don’t just show up and start banging nails.”

  She laughed, which she hadn’t expected to do with him. “You don’t?”

  “Nope. You heard the part about me being a professional engineer, right? I do know how to read a set of plans, and yours were exceptional.”

  “Really?”

  Nodding, he said, “You did a great job of melding the new portion of the inn with the historical elements of the remaining portion and bringing the building up to current code.”

  “That was my goal. I’m glad you liked what I did.”

  “My biggest concern when Mrs. Hendricks told me she was bringing in an architect from Boston was that the new inn wouldn’t fit the aesthetic of the town.”

  “Before I did anything, I spent days researching the town, the inn, its history. I even read about Admiral Butler and your family’s store. I came and took photos and explored every corner of the town and the area. I did my research.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I can’t believe you thought the Boston architect would just phone in a job like this.”

  “I didn’t think that. Exactly.”

  “Right…” The cab was dark, so he couldn’t see her roll her eyes to high heaven. “Well, now you know that’s not what I did. And PS, that fireplace was off by six inches.”

  “Yes, it was. I already conceded that one to you.”

  “And the order from the lumberyard was off by ten percent.”

  He looked over at her. “Was it?”

  “Yep. Fortunately, we hadn’t touched it yet, so I was able to prove to the yard that they shorted us.”

  “Huh. Well, sorry about that.”

  “I didn’t ask you not to sign for stuff because I don’t trust you. I did it because the budget is on my shoulders, and I need to be aware of what’s coming in and making sure it matches up with the order.”

  “I’ve been duly chastised.”

  “If it weren’t for the fact that Butler is a cell phone never-never land, this wouldn’t have happened. You could’ve called me, I could’ve told you what I ordered, and you could’ve confirmed it was correct before you signed. But it doesn’t work that way around here.”

  “You get used to it.”

  “I will never get used to being without my phone during the day.”

  “Soon enough, we’ll have Wi-Fi working at the inn again, and you’ll be back in business.”

  “Somewhat. Being here is still like stepping out of the twenty-first century into the stone ages.”

  “Now, that’s not true. We don’t have cell service. That doesn’t mean we’re stone-aged.”

  “Yes, it does! You don’t even know how the rest of the world works.”

  “I do know. Believe it or not, I get off this mountain once in a while and venture into the real world. I even own a cell phone.”

  “Gasp,” she said. “You do not!”

  “I do, too. I bought it last year when I was working in Rutland and driving back and forth, figuring I ought to have a way to call for help if my truck broke down.”

  “What do you do with it?”

  “Stuff.”

  She snorted with laughter. “You can’t do a damned thing with it in this town.”

  “I know it might surprise you to hear that I don’t spend my entire life in this town. The Butler Inn is the first project I’ve had inside Butler itself in two years. I do stuff all over the Northeast Kingdom as well as other parts of Vermont.”

  “Wow, you’re a regular man of the world.”

  “Yes, I am. You did hear me say I lived in SoCal for six years, right? I became a regular cell phone professional during those years.”

  “I’m suitably impressed.”

  “Gee, thanks. Impressing you was my only goal tonight.”

  She turned in her seat so she could better see him. “You set goals for tonight? What’re the others?”

  The low rumble of laughter coming from him felt like a victory. Brianna had discovered he didn’t laugh or smile very often. “I walked right into that trap, didn’t I?”

  “You did. So are there other goals?”

  “Mostly, I hoped to survive dinner and get home as quickly as possible.” He turned on the windshield wipers to contend with the sudden onset of snow. “But so far, I’ve discovered you’re not completely awful away from work.”

  “Oh gosh, that’s like the best compliment I’ve ever received. Did you get that from a book on how to charm a difficult woman?”

  “I wasn’t aware that I was trying to charm you.”

  “Yeah, charm isn’t one of your talents.”

  “You’ve noticed my other talents? What are they?”

  “Hmm, let me think. You operate a mean nail gun. You appear to be quite talented in the area of grumpiness and surliness. Let’s see.” She tapped her chin. “What else?”

  “That’s more than enough, thank you very much.”

  “Why are you so cranky? Were you always that way?”

  His grip on the steering wheel tightened ever so slightly, but she noticed. “Not always.”

  “What happened?”

  “Life happened.”

  “Ah, yes. Good old life. She can be a bitch when she wants to be, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “God, no.”

  “With me or anyone?” she asked.

  “Anyone. What’s the point of talking about shit that happened years ago?”

  “There’s no point unless the past is affecting your present. I learned that in therapy.”

  He took his eyes off the winding road for a second to glance at her. “What else did you learn in therapy?”

  “That until you deal with the past, the present is always going to be a bit of a mess.”

  “Is your present a mess?”

  “Kinda. I’m working on fixing that, but these things take time. That’s the one good thing about being here. It gets me away from the crap I left at home.”

  “I don’t want to be curious about you, but alas…”

  “Ah-ha,” she said with a laugh. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “Easy, slugger. I said I was curious. That’s a long way from intrigued or enthralled.”

  “FYI, intrigued and enthralled mean the same thing. Just like curious and interested mean the same thing.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “But you are curious. Intriguing.”

  “You’re starting to irritate me again.”

  “I wasn’t aware that I’d ever stopped irritating you.�
�

  “You didn’t, but you started irritating me less.”

  She laughed again, surprised to be having way more fun than she’d expected to, and they weren’t even to their destination yet. “Where is this place we’re going, anyway?”

  “Coming up in a mile or so.”

  The snow was much heavier than it’d been even ten minutes ago.

  “Do we need to be worried about the snow?” she asked warily. She’d never seen snow come down the way it did here.

  “Nah. No biggie.”

  “To you, maybe.”

  “When you grow up with it, you get used to it.”

  “I’d never get used to this kind of snow. It’s as high as my boobs on my sidewalk!”

  Noah sputtered with laughter. “Is that an official measurement?”

  “In this case, yes.”

  “Well, you’re not exactly… How should I put this?”

  “Shut up. I know I’m short. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

  “I never said you were short. I was going to say you aren’t exactly tall.”

  She hoped the withering look told him what she thought of that. But he didn’t see her withering look because he was so intent on keeping the truck on the increasingly snowy road. “Maybe we should turn back.”

  “And have to tell Mrs. H that we wimped out? Not happening.”

  “It’s not wimping out if we’re concerned for our safety.”

  “No self-respecting Vermonter would be afraid to drive in this.”

  “You people are certifiable.”

  “We hear that a lot.”

  They inched along until a neon sign with the outline of a pig appeared in the gloom. The official name of the place was Pig’s Belly Tavern and Publick House. Delightful.

  Brianna expelled a deep breath full of relief. “If the snow is this bad now, what’ll it be like after dinner?”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t drive you off the side of the mountain or anything.”

  “Thank you. That sets my mind at ease.”

  Noah parked the truck and turned off the engine. “Wait for me to come get you so you don’t fall.”

  Brianna wanted to tell him she didn’t need his help but wasn’t sure if that was true, so she waited for him to walk around the truck and open the passenger door. When he offered her a hand, she reluctantly took it so she wouldn’t fall face-first into a snowdrift. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just go home now before it gets worse?”

  “I’m sure. Hold on to me so you don’t slip.”

  She didn’t want to be holding on to him for dear life, but she also didn’t want to fall. They trudged through shin-high snow to the front door, which Noah held for her.

  The man had manners. She had to give him that much. After pounding the snow off their boots, they proceeded inside, where a gold statue of a huge pig greeted them. The restaurant was crowded and noisy, the atmosphere nonexistent. Music that might’ve been live was coming from the back, and the smell of barbecue had her mouth watering and her stomach growling.

  “Two, please,” Noah told the hostess.

  Judging by the crowd, Brianna was the only one concerned about the snowstorm happening outside. If they weren’t worried, maybe she shouldn’t be either. Noah grew up in these hills and knew how to get around in the snow. She needed to chill and try to relax.

  The hostess handed them menus and a list of specials.

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  Noah asked what they had on tap and settled on a Sam Adams Winter.

  Brianna ordered Grey Goose and soda with a lime. Vodka was the only alcohol she ever drank because it had no taste. She hated the taste of everything else and barely drank anything except for at times like this when it paid to be sociable. And when her nerves were shot by having to dine with the cranky contractor during a snowstorm.

  The menu consisted of every form of rib, pork, pig’s feet and even pig’s knuckles. No part of the pig went to waste in this place. “What do you usually get here?”

  “I’m particular to the pork jambalaya myself, but it’s all good. My cousin Hunter had his rehearsal dinner here, and I had the ribs that night. They were so good.”

  “He had his rehearsal dinner here?”

  Noah laughed at the face she made. “The scene of his first date with his now-wife, Megan.”

  “Is she the same Megan who runs the diner?”

  “One and the same.”

  “She’s very nice—and very pregnant.”

  “She’s both those things. She’s made my cousin very happy.”

  “When is she due?”

  “Soon. I’m not sure of the exact date.”

  “Is it me, or are you related in some way to just about everyone in Butler?”

  “Not everyone, but when you’re one of eighteen cousins, many of whom still live in town, there’re very few degrees of separation.”

  “You guys must’ve been something when you were kids.”

  “We had a lot of fun, got into a lot of trouble—the good kind—and had all the laughs together.”

  “That must’ve been nice.”

  “Do you have siblings?”

  “A much older brother who left for college when I was seven and never lived at home again. I think I was an ‘oops,’ not that my parents ever admitted to that.”

  “No cousins?”

  “One that I’m very close to. Dominique is my third cousin. We went all through school together and have always been the best of friends. Her mom and my mom are first cousins.”

  “Wouldn’t that make her your second cousin?”

  “Nope, her mom is my second cousin.”

  “I’m gonna need a minute to wrap my head around that.”

  Brianna laughed. “It’s simple. Her mom is my second cousin, and Dom is my third cousin.”

  “If you say so.”

  “You were lucky to grow up in a pack.”

  “I’ve always known that even if it could be crowded and loud. I feel like I should add that it wasn’t always great. My dad left when we were kids.”

  “I might’ve heard something about that in town.”

  His mouth set in an expression that conveyed his displeasure. “People still can’t believe a man could leave his wife and eight children.”

  “That must’ve been rough.”

  “It was.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen. I was the second oldest, so a lot fell to me and my older brother, Grayson.”

  “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  He shrugged. “It was more than twenty years ago now.”

  “Some things don’t get better with time.” She knew that all too well.

  The waitress came to the table. “Sorry to keep you waiting. What can I get you?”

  Noah gestured for Brianna to go first.

  “I’m going to do some sides—the baked beans, coleslaw and cornbread.”

  “That’s it for you?” the waitress asked.

  “That’ll do it.”

  “And for you, sir?”

  “I’ll do the full rack of ribs with fries and slaw.”

  “I’ll put that right in for you.”

  After she walked away, Noah said, “No pig for you?”

  Brianna gave him a sheepish grin. “I’m a vegetarian.”

  He stared at her, stunned. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Mrs. H’s orders were clear. I didn’t want to get us in more trouble.”

  “We could’ve gone somewhere else, Brianna.”

  “And miss all this?” She gestured to the chaotic energy of the place. “Not on your life.”

  He looked at her with what might’ve been new respect, but Brianna didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

  “You know all about me, and I know very little about you other than you’re an architect from Boston and have an older brother.”

  “That’s about the extent of it.”

  “No way.” He dove int
o the basket of cornbread like he hadn’t seen food in a year. “There’s got to be more to it than that. Ever been married?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “See? I knew there was more to the story. What happened?”

  “It’d be easier to tell you what didn’t happen.”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  Brianna didn’t want to talk about this, but he was right. She knew a lot about him and his family, but he didn’t know anything about her. “Do you know what a sociopath is?”

  “I picture serial killers when I hear that word.”

  “That’s what I thought, too, until I encountered one in person. They lie, cheat and steal with no regard for consequences or the feelings of others. I was lucky enough to be married to that. I still am because he’s refusing to divorce me after he all but ruined me in every possible way. So, there. That’s my life.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Kindness from someone she’d been so at odds with felt better than she would have expected. “It is what it is. Cost me more than twenty thousand dollars in therapy to get to the point where I could look at it as something that was outside my control. He has antisocial personality disorder, and there was nothing I could’ve said or done differently to change what he is. I just wish I’d listened to my gut before I married someone who seemed too good to be true.”

  She’d said more to him than just about anyone other than her therapist since the shit hit the fan last Christmas. It felt good to speak about her nightmare with someone who didn’t know Rem or them as a couple. For some reason, she wanted to tell him the rest.

  “A lot of people in my life didn’t believe he was capable of the things he did, because they all liked him so much. That’s the ultimate dichotomy. Sociopaths are often extremely likable people who charm others into their web of deceit. By the time you realize what you’re dealing with, you’re in so deep, it feels like you’ll never break free of the nightmare.”

  Noah didn’t offer platitudes the way many other people did. He just listened and let her talk, which she appreciated.

  “How did you find out he wasn’t what he seemed?”

  “One of my friends saw him having lunch with another woman. He didn’t notice her, but she watched him until she was sure it wasn’t platonic. Imagine the hubris it takes to be married and take someone else out to lunch like it was no big deal. She called me, told me what she’d seen, and at first, I didn’t believe her. I thought maybe she was jealous of our marriage or something, but then I started to dig. It wasn’t hard to uncover his trail because he hadn’t done anything to try to hide it. There were credit card charges at hotels and restaurants all over Boston, dating back to before we were married.”