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Shying at Trouble

Page 17

by Bonnie Bryant


  “Heh heh heh,” Phil replied, pushing the box of balloons off the sofa and scooting closer to her. “What exactly did you have in mind?” He draped one arm comfortably around her shoulders, put his other hand on her knee, and pulled her toward him.

  Stevie’s lips were just meeting his when she heard the front door slam.

  “Yo! Anyone home?” Chad’s voice rang out.

  “Rats. Busted again,” Stevie said, pushing Phil away. “Nothing kills a romantic mood like hearing your brother’s voice, you know? Come on, let’s go see if he remembered to pick up our soda when he got the supplies for his bachelor party.”

  She hurried into the hall with Phil at her heels. Chad was setting down a case of two-liter bottles of cola. Behind him, another guy was holding a shopping bag filled with chips, pretzels, and other snacks.

  “Oh. Hi, Luke,” Stevie said when she saw the second guy. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  Chad greeted Stevie and Phil cheerfully. “Luke needed a place to crash for the weekend, so I told him he could stay here,” he explained. “Luke, you already know my sister. This is her boyfriend, Phil Marsten. Phil, this is my buddy Luke Chatham.”

  As the two guys shook hands, Stevie was careful to keep a pleasant smile on her face, not wanting Chad to guess her true feelings about his friend. She had only met Luke once or twice before, but she didn’t like him much. She wasn’t really sure why—usually Stevie liked just about everyone she met until they gave her a reason to change her opinion. But something about Luke Chatham rubbed her the wrong way. She always had the sense that he was thinking something completely different from what he was saying and therefore couldn’t quite be trusted.

  “Come on, you two,” Chad said when the introductions were over. “Luke’s car doesn’t lock, and we don’t want to leave our stuff in there overnight. Help us carry it in.”

  Soon Stevie and Phil were standing by the trunk of Luke’s battered old junker. Stevie wasn’t surprised that the locks didn’t work—she was much more surprised that the car had actually managed to make it the forty or so miles from the university without falling apart. “Nice ride,” she said dryly.

  Luke shot her a glance. “Hey, the radio works,” he said. “What more do you need?” He cast a sidelong glance at Chad. “Except for a backseat, of course,” he added with a playful leer. Walking to the back of the car, he opened the trunk. It was packed full of cans and bottles.

  It wasn’t until Stevie was holding one of the cases of cans that she realized it held six-packs of beer, not soda. “Whoa,” she commented. “Hey, Chad, since when are you old enough to buy beer?”

  Chad looked slightly embarrassed, but Luke glanced at Stevie over his shoulder as he hoisted a case himself. “Don’t worry, Officer, it’s all legal,” he drawled. “I turned twenty-one last spring.”

  “Whatever.” Stevie had just been teasing—she already knew that Luke was a year or two older than her brother. She headed toward the house, panting a little under the weight of the beer. Phil picked up a box of sodas and followed. “So where do you want us to put all this stuff?” Stevie called back to Chad. “I don’t want it in the living room—we still have to move the furniture around for the party.”

  “Let’s stick a couple of cases of the beer in the spare fridge in the garage,” Chad suggested, catching up to her on the front walk. “We’ll want some to be cold when we get to our party.”

  “No way,” Stevie countered. “You can’t use that. Alex and Lisa and I spent all afternoon yesterday clearing it out so we could keep soda cold for our party.” The extra refrigerator her parents kept in the garage wasn’t very large, and Stevie was already worried about having enough cold drinks on hand for all the guests she had invited. She wanted all the partyers to be as happy and relaxed as possible so that they’d be easier marks for Scott’s campaigning.

  Chad frowned. “Come on, Stevie,” he said. “You can put your stuff in there after we leave tomorrow. What’s the big deal?”

  Before Stevie could argue back, Luke spoke up. “I’ve got a plan,” he announced, catching up to the others. “Chad and I were going to pick up some big bags of ice on the way to our party tomorrow. What do you say we go a little earlier and get some extra for you guys? That way you can set up your sodas in the sink or the bathtub or wherever, and they’ll stay cold.”

  “Hmmm.” Stevie had to admit, at least to herself, that it was a good idea. She would be able to fit a lot more soda in the laundry room and kitchen sinks than she could possibly cram into the spare refrigerator, and it would be more convenient for her guests, too. She glanced at Phil, who nodded slightly, obviously guessing what she was thinking. “Well, okay,” she told Chad and Luke. “I guess that would do. You can use a couple of shelves in the garage fridge, I guess.”

  “Cool.” Chad looked relieved. “Come on, let’s just get everything in from the car first. Then we can put stuff away.” Shooting Stevie a quick glance, he added, “Don’t worry, whatever doesn’t go in the garage we’ll stack in the dining room, so it won’t be in your way.”

  “Okay.” Stevie led the way into the house and set the case she was carrying on the floor next to the box of sodas Chad had brought in earlier. She rubbed her arms and kicked at a bright red balloon that had escaped from the living room into the hall.

  Luke noticed what she was doing and stepped past her to glance curiously into the living room. “Wow,” he commented, taking in the inflated balloons drifting around the floor and the piles of red, white, and blue streamers waiting to be hung. “How old did you say you were, Stevie?”

  Stevie felt almost annoyed enough to take back her agreement about the spare refrigerator. But then she shrugged. What did she care what Luke thought of her party decorations?

  By this time tomorrow, Chad and Luke and Luke’s skanky car full of beer will be long gone, she reminded herself. Then the real fun can begin!

  “She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?” Lisa said anxiously, reaching over the stall door and running a hand down Prancer’s neck.

  “Try not to worry,” Alex said comfortingly, putting his arm around Lisa’s shoulders. “Max said Judy’s coming back in a day or two for another look, right?”

  Lisa nodded, smiling slightly as Prancer swung her big head around to look at Alex, almost knocking him over in the process. “She’s going to stop by sometime over the weekend.” Her smile faded and she sighed with frustration. “I just wish she’d been able to tell us something definite about her condition.” Judy Barker had come to check on Prancer that morning while Lisa was in school, but according to Max, the vet had been unable to provide a definitive answer about the second foal and could only promise to check again soon.

  “I know. It’s tough being in suspense.” Alex patted the mare on the cheek. “But no news is good news, right?”

  “Well …” Lisa couldn’t quite bring herself to agree with that old chestnut, not only because it wasn’t necessarily true in Prancer’s case, but also because it made her think about the secrets still standing between her and Alex. Telling Carole the other day about her conversation with Skye had lifted some of the guilt off her heart, but only temporarily. Every time she remembered all the things that she still hadn’t told Alex about her summer, she felt like the world’s worst girlfriend.

  No news may be good news, but sometimes that makes things even worse when the bad news finally comes, she thought glumly, wishing once again that she’d been completely honest with Alex as soon as she’d returned from California. Every day that passed made it harder and harder to tell him, until she began to wonder whether she would ever be able to tell him at all.

  Lisa had spent a lot of time over the past two months looking for the right moment to tell Alex that she had almost decided to stay in California for the school year instead of returning at the end of the summer. That had seemed like the hardest thing in the world to tell her boyfriend, who had been devastated even at the thought of spending two months apart.
r />   She wasn’t sure when her second secret had risen up and overtaken the other in her worries, but lately Lisa couldn’t seem to stop thinking about that odd, slightly awkward conversation she and Skye had had in that faraway tack room. When we first met you were what—twelve? Thirteen? Skye had said seriously, gazing at her steadily with his striking ocean blue eyes. Too young for a cool teenager like I was then to even consider as, well, you know. No matter how cute you were. Somehow, though, a few years’ difference in our ages just doesn’t seem that important anymore.…

  Lisa hadn’t really known how to respond to that, but fortunately Skye hadn’t expected her to say anything in return. He certainly hadn’t expected her to stop being in love with Alex. He had just wanted her to know how he felt.

  I almost wish he hadn’t said anything, Lisa thought, glancing at her boyfriend out of the corner of her eye. Then I wouldn’t have one more secret to keep from Alex. She knew that one of the reasons Alex hadn’t wanted her to go to California for the summer was that he was jealous of her friendship with Skye. No matter how many times Lisa had reassured him that even a handsome, wealthy, successful movie star could never replace him in her heart, Alex had refused to be completely satisfied until she had finally returned home.

  Alex didn’t notice her contemplative expression—or if he did, he obviously attributed it to Prancer’s condition. “I know what we need right now,” he announced, reaching out to brush a strand of honey blond hair off her cheek. “Distraction. We need to take your mind off all the things that could be wrong before you give yourself an ulcer. Why don’t we stop bugging this poor horse”—he patted Prancer again—“and go find something fun to do to keep you from worrying?”

  Lisa turned away from the stall and gave him a hug, grateful as always at the way he often understood her feelings even better than she did herself. “That sounds like a good idea,” she agreed. “We could go for a ride if you want. Or we could hang out at your house.”

  “Forget that second idea,” Alex joked. “If I know my sister, she’s probably right in the middle of some huge, elaborate party-planning frenzy right about now.” He glanced at his watch. “Poor Chad is probably there by now, sorting Stevie’s CD pile into alphabetical order or something while she cracks the whip.”

  Lisa smiled weakly. “Well, normally I’d say we could go to my house. But Mom is off this afternoon, so …”

  She didn’t bother to go into detail, since Alex already knew the reason she preferred to avoid her own house as much as possible these days when her mother was home. Ever since I found out that Mom’s seeing Rafe, that’s all she wants to talk to me about, she thought grimly. And that long-haired loser is the last thing I feel like discussing.

  Lisa had been shocked when she had walked into her house two weeks earlier and found her mother—her conservative, recently divorced, forty-something mother—locked in a steamy embrace with a handsome twenty-four-year-old coworker. Mrs. Atwood had been embarrassed at first, but overall she’d seemed relieved to be found out and had soon begun confiding some of her feelings to her daughter.

  It’s totally disgusting. I mean, he’s Peter’s age! Lisa told herself, thinking of her older brother, who was living in Europe. And the worst part is, Mom doesn’t even seem to notice that I’m not as thrilled as she is about her exciting new boy toy.…

  In a way, that was the worst part. Lisa wouldn’t have objected to her mother’s starting to date again if she’d chosen almost anyone but Rafe. In fact, she would have welcomed it. Mrs. Atwood had been shattered by her divorce and had spent far too long feeling bitter and depressed and lonely. Lisa would have been honestly happy about anything that lifted her mother’s spirits a little.

  But not Rafe. Lisa could not get used to having him in her mother’s life, no matter how many times Mrs. Atwood gushed about his interesting opinions about world events or his witty comments and great sense of humor or the way he flattered the customers at the clothing store where they both worked and convinced them to buy more. Not wanting to hear any more than she had to, Lisa had taken to avoiding her own home as much as possible whenever her mother might be there, doing most of her studying at the library or at Alex’s house.

  “Did I tell you the latest?” she asked Alex. “In the past couple of days, Mom has actually started hinting about having a big Thanksgiving celebration ‘at home this year.’ She pretends she means she just wants to invite Aunt Marianne and her family down, but I know what she’s thinking.” She shook her head grimly. “Especially since she’s also mentioned several times that Rafe’s family is in Seattle and he can’t afford airfare home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

  “Ick,” Alex commented succinctly, wrinkling his nose. Then he brightened. “Hey, but you know what that means. It’s all the more reason you and your mom should spend Thanksgiving at my house like we talked about.”

  Lisa hesitated, not sure what to say. She hadn’t told Alex yet that her father had offered to fly her out to California to spend Thanksgiving with him. Whenever she imagined sitting around the table in his sunny kitchen, talking and laughing with her dad and Evelyn, helping to feed baby Lily her first bites of Thanksgiving turkey, she was tempted to accept the offer. Especially when the only other option seemed to be gritting her teeth and trying to choke down her food as her mother and Rafe made goo-goo eyes at each other while playing footsie under the table.

  But I have a third option, she reminded herself. I can stay here and spend a nice, romantic Thanksgiving with Alex. That way I don’t have to deal with icky Rafe—Mom wouldn’t dare invite him to the Lakes’ house—and I also don’t have to find a way to tell Alex I’m leaving again so soon. And I know Dad would understand.…

  That third option seemed a whole lot easier than either of the other possibilities. Knowing that she sometimes tended to overanalyze decisions, Lisa decided to commit before she could reason herself into changing her mind yet again.

  “Okay,” she told Alex, reaching over and squeezing his hand as they stood in the aisle outside Prancer’s stall. “You talked me into it. I’ll come to your house for Thanksgiving, as long as your parents say it’s all right.”

  Alex’s eyes lit up. “They will,” he said eagerly. “Actually, they already have. I ran the idea past them last week.” He shrugged and grinned. “So the only one you’ll have to break the news to is Stevie. And as long as you don’t try to steal the drumstick from her—”

  “Hey, guys,” Carole’s voice interrupted.

  Lisa turned and saw her friend approaching, weighted down by the pair of water buckets she was carrying. “Hi!” Lisa said. “I was looking for you before. Did Judy tell you any more about Prancer than she told Max?”

  As Carole reached her friends and stopped to chat, lowering her buckets to the aisle floor, she couldn’t help thinking, for the umpteenth time in the past two days, that she might never look at Lisa quite the same way again. Weird images kept popping into her head, especially when Lisa was with Alex. Images of Skye.

  Alex had put his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders as the two of them turned to talk to Carole, but Carole didn’t really see him there. Instead she pictured Skye Ransom, holding Lisa possessively as the two of them posed for the photographers at a fancy Hollywood premiere. What would it be like, having a movie star in love with you? she wondered. Especially if he also happened to be a wonderful, caring person like Skye …

  Carole liked Alex. She thought he was good for Lisa and Lisa was good for him. Still, she couldn’t help wondering—was Lisa really so devoted to Alex that she hadn’t even considered what Skye could offer her? Had she thought about it all?

  It’s no wonder things are still a little tense between her and Alex, with those sorts of questions to deal with, she thought idly. He must have totally freaked out when she first told him. Oh well. I’m just glad I wasn’t around to witness it.…

  “Anyway,” Lisa was saying after running down her usual list of fears and concerns for Prancer’s health
, “I think Alex and I are going to go for a quick trail ride. Can you let Max know when you see him?”

  “Sure. Why don’t you take out Barq and Congo? Neither of them has been exercised yet today.” Even as she automatically came up with horse assignments, Carole’s thoughts wandered away from thoughts of her friends and their problems straight back to her favorite topic: Samson.

  I really ought to do some more hill work with him today, she thought, hardly listening as Lisa mentioned something about Stevie and tomorrow night’s party. He’ll need to be strong for the show. He’s not a novice horse, but he hasn’t been in many really big shows. Most of the other horses will have a lot more experience than he does, so I’ll have to make sure he’s in absolute peak condition if we’re going to have a chance at any ribbons. Maybe tomorrow we can—

  “Carole!” Her thoughts were interrupted by Lisa’s voice, which sounded rather sharp. “Are you listening?”

  “Sorry,” Carole said immediately, feeling herself blush as she realized she’d drifted off completely on the current of her own thoughts and plans. “Um, I guess I’m a little distracted today. What did you say?”

  Lisa seemed mollified by her apology. “Alex just asked if you knew whether Ben was coming to the party. I know Stevie invited him.”

  Carole’s first impulse was to say that she was the last person who would know what Ben was up to these days. But she held back. She didn’t want her friends to know how strange and complicated their relationship had gotten lately.

  She had never really understood Ben very well, but she’d always thought he respected her for the work she did at the stable. Lately, though, she wasn’t so sure about that. Ben had started looking at her strangely at times, making cryptic little comments.… The previous weekend the two of them had actually ended up in a tense argument, even though Carole wasn’t even sure exactly what they’d been fighting about.

 

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