Sadie held out her arm for a hug. “Ah, there you are.”
The comfort of her friends’ circle eased the tension. “As promised.” With a quick glance, she added, “I see none of you were greeted by Tootsie as I was.”
Claudia gave a tsk. “Look at you. Let’s go in the kitchen and see if there’s anything to get that out.”
The kitchen was where the fridge was, and thus Jeannie. Of the wide brown eyes. Batting at Ben.
“No, I’m fine. I am a bit thirsty, though.”
Sadie held up her glass. “I was about to go for a refill.”
“I’ll get that for you,” Ben said, wandering in their direction. “Sydney, can I get you anything?”
Claudia interjected, “She was just saying she needed a drink. Any more of the riesling? I’d like some, too.”
“Riesling?” Sydney asked, her disappointment evident. “You brought some too?”
“Both excellent,” he said. “I’ll bring the bottle.”
When he was out of earshot, she said, “I thought you were making bruschetta.”
Sadie held out a portion. “Have some. It’s great.”
She rubbed her temple. “I’m sure it is.”
Claudia patted her back. “You need to relax, sweetie.”
“This week has been grueling.” With a deep inhale, she tilted her head and closed her eyes. The rays of the declining sun fell on her shoulders and face with a penetrating warmth. The smoky smell of meat sizzling on the grill combined with laughter and conversation eased her nerves.
Ben returned with an empty glass, which he handed her, and poured what was left in the bottle into the three glasses.
He leaned his shoulder against Sydney’s. “Good thing you brought another one. Can I get you anything else?”
A guy at the grill wielding a spatula called to him. “Excuse me.”
She sipped her wine. “Who are all these people? Skip the ones I know.”
Claudia ticked off the names and relationships and ended with, “And Jeannie is the sister from New Jersey.”
“Sister.” Whatever had tightened inside her when Jeannie had looked at Ben loosened.
Claudia and Sadie exchanged knowing looks.
“I’m ready for a kabob,” Sadie said, and Claudia agreed.
She followed them through the yard to a crowded table. They stacked their plates and sat on lawn chairs. Sydney sat cross-legged on the grass and smiled as she watched Ben playing horseshoes with two other guys and his sister. Tootsie chased the horseshoes, barking, each time they were thrown. He laughed as he yelled at the dog.
Claudia’s voice sing-songed. “You’re too quiet over there.”
“I took your advice. I’m relaxing.” Surprised, she realized it was true. She’d dreaded coming today, but she felt so peaceful.
A light breeze ruffled through the tree branches above; the cornflower blue sky looked like a third grader had drawn the clouds that blazed gold and orange as the sun disappeared behind the horizon.
People bunched around the grill, then the picnic table and chairs. The process repeated until everyone complained they ate too much. The horizon faded to light blue as the sky above deepened to indigo.
Three carloads of men and women left. Ben waved, then walked toward her and plopped on the grass nearby.
Claudia stood. “Where’s everybody going?”
He leaned back on his elbows. “They had tickets to a baseball game.”
“They’ll be in time for the third inning.” Sadie checked her watch. “I have to go, too. A new club opens tonight; I need to review it for my next article.”
Sydney smiled. “You have the best job.”
Sadie sidled next to her. “And I get to meet the cutest guys.”
Claudia considered her empty glass. “I was going for a refill, but I should get going, too. I have a busy day tomorrow. Company coming.”
Jon and his date walked toward them. “We’re taking off. Thanks for having us over.”
He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Thanks for coming.”
“It’s a mass exodus.” She looked at her half-full glass. “Everyone’s leaving.”
He bumped his shoulder into hers. “You don’t have to.”
He stood as a man and woman thanked him, smiling as he said goodbye. He squatted next to her. “I’m going for a beer. Want me to freshen that?”
If she had more, she’d have to wait longer to drive. She hadn’t felt so mellow in too long. It wasn’t just the wine – it was the gorgeous day, being with friends. Being with him. It felt so natural.
She handed him her glass. “Sure. I’m going to use your facilities in the meantime.”
He took her hand and helped her up. “Through the kitchen and to the right.”
She stood for a moment, looking into his eyes, holding his hand. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” He had a way of looking at her with a mixture of expectancy, warmth and happiness that stirred her, unbalanced her. “And for the record, I like women in heels. Even if they’re a little taller than me.”
She smiled.
As she made her way through the yard, Jeannie threw a frisbee and Tootsie yelped in delight. A man and woman sat at the picnic table, and another couple walked down the driveway hand in hand. The sky deepened to indigo overhead. The silhouette of the farmhouse looked lovely against the azure rim of the horizon.
The spacious kitchen opened into an airy dining room. Photos lined the walls into the surprisingly contemporary living room and up the stairs. Some looked like family – Jeannie and Tootsie, Tootsie as a puppy, Ben with Jeannie and an older couple she took to be their parents, from the resemblance. Others she recognized as award winners from his previous newspaper: a craggy-faced welfare mom surrounded by five scruffy kids, a cancer patient whose last months he’d chronicled for a series of articles.
The back door squeaked and thudded shut. He walked into the living room and held out her glass of wine. “Thought maybe you’d left, too.”
“No, I’m looking at your photos. They’re incredible.” She turned to the wall of images.
He folded his arms. “That was a tough series to shoot. The old guy was inspiring.”
“Were you there when he died?”
His eyes were bright but his voice cracked as he whispered, “Yeah.”
Her arms ached to cradle him.
The kitchen door slammed and Tootsie trotted in, tongue rolling. A rush of tap water, a pan clanged and Jeannie called, “Come get a drink.” Panting, the dog ran into the kitchen.
They followed. Leash in hand, his sister said, “We’re heading out. It was good to meet you, Sydney.”
“You, too. Drive safe.”
Jeannie kissed her brother’s cheek and pulled the dog out the door.
The couple from the picnic table came in carrying paper plates and plastic containers, and said a hasty good night.
“I should go, too.” She set her glass on the kitchen table.
“It’s early. Let’s go sit on the porch. It’s a nice night.” He smiled, and his gaze locked on hers.
“Okay. For a little while.” She followed him through the front door, and sat on the porch swing as he lit three candles hanging from large glass holders.
The night air had an edge of chill. She rubbed her arms, wished she’d brought her jacket from the car. He sat close and warmth tingled through her.
She tucked her leg under her and leaned back. Frogs trilled from the pond across the road. The stars blazed in the crisp September sky.
“This is such a wonderful place. I see now why you chose to live way out here.”
“It’s my grandparents’ place, actually. My grandparents died last year. That’s when I decided to move from Philly.”
“I’m so sorry.” She resisted the urge to touch his leg. “Both of them?
He rested his arm on the back of the swing, his hand behind her head. “Within months of each other. After Grandmom passed, he was ready to f
ollow her. He hated being here without her.”
She wrapped her hands around her knee, relaxed into the rhythm of the swing, of the night. “That’s sad. But I always envied couples who couldn’t bear to live apart. It’s so romantic. Is that their picture in the hallway?”
“Yeah. They were great. This place was always special to me. I couldn’t let strangers buy it, turn it into condos or a mass production farm.” He swigged at his beer bottle. “So, I heard Sadie say she was going to see Soul Custody at a club later.”
“Yeah, I was tempted to tag along. I’ve heard they’re interesting – kind of Dylan meets Foo Fighters.”
He laughed. “Or Eric Clapton meets melodic Pearl Jam meets Dandy Warhols.”
“A mellow Stones with a tincture of Springsteen.”
They laughed. For a moment, she feared the abrupt halt signed the end, but then Ben launched into another discussion of music, and their banter flowed.
****
Ben lost track of the time. Their conversation kept finding new threads, interesting ones he wanted to follow.
He leaned toward her when he spoke. She smelled like fresh air or an open field of wildflowers. He liked the way her hair cascaded around her shoulders. The way she listened to his entire sentence before responding. The conversational threads weaved them closer.
He looked at her. “How’s your head? No headache today?”
“No, I’ve been so relaxed here. Maybe it’s the country air.”
“Anytime you need your chi unblocked, let me know.” Like now. He searched her face.
“You’ll be first to know.” She smiled, then sipped at her wine, but found her glass empty. “Well.” She leaned forward and placed her feet on the porch.
“Sydney.” He turned to face her, not wanting her to go. Not wanting to ask her to stay and risk a scene. An awkward scene that would haunt them.
She stood and walked to the door. “Why don’t I help you clean up before I go?”
His mind raced as he stared into the yard. Don’t let her go.
He followed her through the house and to the back door. The large yard was dark, and the light over the back step afforded small illumination to the large, now dark yard. Her foot twisted as she stepped down, and she cried out.
“What happened? Are you okay?” He took her arm and helped her to the picnic table.
She sat down and took off a shoe. “Damn heels. I never should have worn them.” She rubbed her ankle.
“Let me see.” He knelt in front of her, lifted her foot to his leg and massaged it.
Gradually relaxing, she leaned her elbows on the table behind her. “So you’re the guy that Heart sang about.”
He chuckled at the musical reference. “I’m the man with the magic hands.” He looked up at her. “Are they working their magic on you?” He’d been imagining his fingers working on her all day.
“It feels much better. But I don’t want to keep you any longer. It’s getting late.”
He held her foot in place. “Sydney. I need to tell you something.”
Maybe it was the moonlight. The clear skies punched with brilliant stars that made him want to clear the air between them. From deep in his brain, something screamed for him to shut the hell up. Holding her warm foot snug in his hand, an overwhelming urge came over him to tease his fingers up her thigh. Press himself between her legs, wrap them around his waist, and carry her upstairs.
She watched him warily. “What?”
He bit his lip. “I need to explain. About that night.”
She looked away. “No, you don’t...”
“When I kissed you that night, I didn’t want to stop. April and I were on the verge of breaking up. Well, she did break up with me that night. My whole life turned upside down.”
“April?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but who is April?”
“My fiancée.” He hated to speak of her, but Sydney had to know.
She held her temple, wincing. “You’re engaged?”
“No. Not anymore.” Damn. Not the way he wanted this to go.
She gave an incredulous laugh. “Why do I feel like I’ve walked into the middle of a Who’s On First routine?”
Ah why the hell had he opened his big mouth? Now she sat there staring at him as if he were Medusa.
Her frown eased into a horrified stare.
Yep. She understood now. He meant their kiss a year ago.
She fumbled for words. “You… you…”
He rose with her as she stood, then held her arm. “Please, listen. I thought it would make it easier for you — ”
“You didn’t forget. You knew who I was the morning you walked into the staff meeting. You bastard.” She jerked her arm away and stumbled, one leg taller than the other, toward the door. “I am leaving.”
“Wait, here’s your shoe.” He grabbed it from the picnic table and handed it to her. “Please, will you let me explain?”
She sat on the back step and fastened the strap of her sandal.
Now was his chance. He spoke fast. “I wasn’t sorry when April broke off our engagement. If she hadn’t, I would have. I couldn’t stop thinking about you for months after that night. Then my grandmother died, and then my grandfather, and this job opened up, and everything came together to bring me here.” He didn’t say to you, though it seemed the logical conclusion of it all.
She stood and headed to her car. “I have to go.”
He jogged to catch up to her. “It’s dark. I’ll walk you.” On the return trip too.
****
So many thoughts rushed through her head, Sydney couldn’t sort them in any meaningful way. “You don’t have to.” She hoped he’d turn back.
“I want you to understand how sorry I am. I was wrong.”
She didn’t slow her pace. “Oh yes, I understand that part. Crystal clear on that point, thanks.”
“I thought it would be awkward for you if you knew I remembered. If I were just some drunken slob, you could forget that night.”
When they reached her car, he took hold of her arm, turned her toward him. “Sydney. Please stay.” An urgency rushed through his soft voice.
Her breath rushed out as surely as if he’d punched her. “Stay? Are you kidding me?”
He stood next to her, level with her. His eyes sparkled as they bored into hers. “You’ve thought about this. I know you have. I know I have.” He bit his lip.
She wanted to bite it, too. Or smack it. She couldn’t decide.
How she managed to keep her voice even, she had no clue. “I thought about that night for months, too. And just when I was starting to forget, you show up at the staff meeting that day. And pretend I’m a total stranger.” Her breath felt ragged in her chest. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”
A breeze ruffled through her hair. He tucked a stray strand behind her shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”
It would be so easy to fold herself into his arms and let her troubles float away. But right now, she felt as if her sense of reason were drowning.
Idiot didn’t begin to cover it.
“I need to go home. Be alone. Think.” She opened her door.
He stepped back, hands jammed in his pockets.
She started the engine, and he yelled, “Whoa!” as he knocked on her window.
She laid her head on the steering wheel and asked for strength as she powered the window down. “I have to go, Ben.”
He leaned his elbow on the window. “You better see this first.” He winced, and looked toward the back of her car.
Opening the door, she strained to see. “I don’t…” She got out but it was so dark, she had to lean closer. She gasped. “A flat!” She hurried to the back and opened the trunk. Last month, she’d had a flat and took the spare to the shop. She’d meant to pick it up but kept putting it off. “No.”
He looked down the road. “There’s a garage about fifteen minutes from here. I could take it there tomorrow.”
<
br /> “Is there a hotel nearby?” No lights shone in any direction.
He gave a short laugh. “Nearby your place. Nothing out here.” Seeing her dismay, he said, “I could drive you home.”
“How would I get back tomorrow? That makes no sense.” Her life made no sense. Besides, they’d both been drinking. She couldn’t risk it.
He shuffled his feet. “You could stay here tonight.”
Desperation gripped her. There had to be some other way.
“I haven’t finished the spare room, but I can sleep on the sofa. You can have my room.” He touched her arm lightly.
It sounded logical enough. And there didn’t seem to be another way.
Setting her jaw, she flapped her arms in surrender.
She wanted to kick her car. Its gas economy fell short against reliability. Stupid tiny tires.
They walked up the driveway and onto the porch.
“I don’t suppose you want any more?” He held up her glass.
She shook her head. Shivering, she rubbed her arms. She’d forgotten her jacket again. Not even one small detail in her life worked in her favor.
He held the screen door open. “The bedroom’s upstairs, to the right.” He followed her up the steps and flipped the light switch.
His platform bed was flanked by low tables. A dresser and mirror stood opposite.
He went to the dresser and pulled out a black R.E.M. tee shirt. “It’s the only extra large I have. Not that you need an extra large, but I know Jeannie likes to sleep in oversized shirts.”
She held out her hand. “That’s fine.” She loved R.E.M. Wearing his shirt might prove torture.
He handed her the shirt. “There’s a robe in the closet. Sorry there’s no TV in here. Reception’s pretty bad out here, but the downstairs set picks up a few channels.”
She nodded. She couldn’t look at him. If she would will herself to go back in time, not to come here, she would. Maybe he’d never have confessed to knowing her, so she could keep pretending, too.
She willed him to go away instead.
He pulled sweatpants from a drawer. “Good night.” He drew the door shut.
“Night.” Miserable, she stepped out of her shoes, then her pants. Thought it would be easier on me? Please. She pulled her blouse over her head. He would have broken up with April anyway? I bet. She unfastened her bra and let it fall atop her other clothes. He couldn’t stop thinking about me all year? Really? Absently, she reached for the tee shirt.
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