Love in Maine

by Connie Falconeri

  He hoisted himself up from the chair and went into the kitchen to see what he could do to help get dinner ready.

  After a shower, Maddie felt almost human again. She unpacked her bag in about four minutes and pulled on a pair of low-slung Brown U. Women’s Crew sweatpants and a white tank top. She assumed that Hank the Grump would be gone by the time she went back downstairs, so had to hide her surprise when he was sitting at the kitchen table. He looked peevish and impatient when she walked into the room.

  “Oh! Hi! I figured you didn’t live here . . . I mean, nice to see you again.” Maddie suddenly felt like her sweats and workout tank were some kind of seductive get-up, the way he was sizing her up from head to toe. She pushed her shoulders back out of habit, to steel herself, and tried to act like it was perfectly normal for her to be walking into a strange person’s kitchen.

  “So, Janet, shall I go to the grocery store and stock up or can I just give you money for my share of the meals?”

  “Yes!” Grumpy barked over his mother’s joyful, “No!”

  All three of them looked at each other, then Maddie looked at the stove and the sink and anywhere else she could without looking at Henry Gilbertson. He was too big for the room. For any room. He was all muscle-y and corded, and even his breathing seemed more like a dragon exhaling smoke through his nostrils than a mere man releasing oxygen. And what did she ever do to him, anyway? Maddie wondered. He’d been rude since the moment she walked in.

  “Janet,” Maddie asked gently, “are you sure this is okay? I’m sure I can find another place—”

  “Not for two hundred bucks a month you won’t,” Grumpy said.

  “Excuse me?” Maddie had had just about enough crud flung at her for one day and she decided she didn’t need to take any more of it from this guy. Sure he was hot, but, well, so was she!

  “I said,” Henry repeated slowly, for the resident dimwit, “you are getting quite a bargain to live here for two hundred dollars a month.”

  Maddie chose to ignore the taunt. Having three older brothers had taught her the power of silence. “Janet, I’m so sorry. I’d be happy to pay more if that’s not enough. I would never try to—”

  “Of course not!” Janet shook her head. “That’s absolutely what we agreed on and I think it’s perfectly fair.” She stared at her son to quiet him down. “Hank’s just a bit . . . protective, aren’t you, dear?” Janet patted his clasped hands and got up to see to the meal.

  “Please let’s all sit down and have a nice supper. I made some corn on the cob and a big salad and some pie for dessert. I’m mostly a vegetarian . . . I hope that’s okay!”

  Henry rolled his eyes. Maddie ignored him.

  “Totally fine!” Maddie said. “I’ll definitely need to get some protein sometimes—I have to stay in shape for my final year of sports at college—but I’ll make sure to eat my share of T-bones at Phil’s or wherever, if you don’t want the smell in the house.”

  “Oh, it’s not that, dear. Please don’t go to a restaurant, that’s just silly. I just meant I won’t be serving it or eating it.”

  “Well, after tonight I wouldn’t expect you to be serving me anyway—”

  “Yeah, right,” Henry mumbled.

  Maddie sat up straighter. She was not going to let this guy get to her. So he didn’t want a stranger in his mom’s house. Okay. Fine.

  Janet rolled her eyes as she finished putting dinner together. She stood at the stove and plated the food. “Just ignore him, Maddie. He’s very suspicious these days.” Janet spoke as if her enormous son were not even in the room. “I like you. That’s all that matters. Henry doesn’t live here, so he can just mind his own business.”

  The ignored Henry stared at his mother’s rigid back. The room was silent, and even the nighttime insects outside the screen door and open window over the sink went quiet.

  His voice was low and steady when he replied, “You are my business, Mom. Or so I thought.” Then he got up and walked over to the stove to give his mother a kiss good-bye. “You enjoy your dinner and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Janet turned to face her son, and Maddie tried to make herself invisible. “Hank, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.” She reached up and patted his cheek. It looked like it was about all the physical contact he could stand. “You go on home and get a good night’s sleep.”

  He nodded once, then turned to the left and showed himself out the back door off the kitchen.

  Janet and Maddie listened to his hard, sure footsteps as they faded into the night.

  “Wow. He’s quite . . . something,” Maddie said.

  Janet smiled a sad, dispirited smile. “He’s had a rough go, so I probably spoil him. He’s gotten a little protective in return. He’ll come around. Not to worry. Now, let’s enjoy our delicious dinner.” Janet had set down two plates piled high with fresh leafy vegetables, grilled corn on the cob, and a hunk of what looked like freshly baked bread. Maddie had never tasted better food. Washing dishes for four hours straight had turned her appetite into something formidable.

  Turned out that washing dishes and waiting tables eight hours a day, five days in a row, turned her appetite into something resembling a ravenous beast. She finally had to tell Janet that she needed steak and fish and chicken, and lots of it, and of course she would buy it herself. But since Maddie hadn’t gotten her first paycheck yet, she asked Janet if she could pay her for her share of the food on Friday night when Phil was going to pay her. She was down to twelve dollars, after giving fifty as a down payment to Janet and spending very carefully on food that she had to buy when she wasn’t at Phil’s.

  Luckily, Henry Gilbertson hadn’t crossed her path since that first awkward night. Janet talked about him all the time, as if the three of them were great old friends, but Maddie figured Henry was avoiding her and that was fine by her. It turned out Henry lived in the apartment over Janet’s garage, but it was far enough away that Maddie never actually saw him. Apparently he worked twelve-hour days, most of it underwater in two-hour shifts.

  Janet went on and on about what a successful career he’d had as an engineer diver in the Army. And then she went on and on about how smart and wonderful he was. At first Maddie thought she was trying to play matchmaker, but eventually she realized that Janet was just insanely proud of him, so she let her rattle on. If half of what Janet said was true, he was a pretty intense guy. Maddie promised herself that she’d try to give him a second chance the next time she saw him. As long as he wasn’t a total jerk again.

  Friday afternoon Phil handed Maddie her first paycheck. For some reason, she wanted to take the sealed envelope home and open it in private. It felt special. Hers. She had gotten paychecks before, obviously. She’d worked at lots of killer jobs, most recently at the campus human rights league, doing paralegal work that a regular paralegal could have charged two hundred dollars an hour for. But this check felt like she had actually earned it. She wasn’t quite sure how to explain it, but it felt like real money for real work.

  Maddie practically skipped home and smiled at how Janet’s house was already starting to feel like home. She’d made it five days on her own. Six, counting Sunday when she’d first arrived. But she didn’t really count Sunday because she didn’t make any money that day. She’d done just fine. Her brother Jimmy could take his pontificating self-righteousness and stick it. Maddie didn’t need to be coddled by her parents and her wealthy upbringing.

  She got to Janet’s and let the screen door slam behind her. Somehow that seemed less rude than screaming through the house, “Anybody home?”

  It was only half past three and the house was quiet, so Maddie peeked into the kitchen and was about to turn back into the living room when she realized Henry Gilbertson was standing near the back door. He looked like he’d been about to dart out and been caught. He stood so still that, in the shadows cast from the afternoon sun, Maddie couldn’t quite convince herself that he was really standing there. In the flesh. There w
as something invisible about him, about his stillness.

  “Oh. Hi, Henry.” Maddie put one hand on her hip and leaned against the doorjamb. She was flicking the envelope—Hello! My first paycheck!—back and forth like a swishing cattail. He didn’t say a word.

  Maddie decided it might be fun to push his buttons a little. He was so gruff and manly, he was really a caricature of himself. She walked into the kitchen and headed for the refrigerator. She opened it and bent down to see what she could have to drink to celebrate. Soda. Soda. Juice. Soda.

  “You know what I’d really love right now?” she twisted her face around to peek at Henry over the top edge of the old yellow refrigerator, but most of her was still bent over and, apparently, distracting him. His eyes, which Maddie now noticed were a stormy green, were definitely taking her in. Maybe he wasn’t such a stoic after all.

  He shook his head to silently acknowledge that he had no idea what Maddie would love right now. Something hot and fast crackled between them when Henry moved his head, but he kept his eyes fixed on Maddie. The bastard had hit Maddie’s flirting slow pitch right out of the park.

  Maddie tried to weigh her options. She supposed she could forego pesky considerations like . . . sentences longer than two words . . . or common courtesy. For a taste of those wide stern lips or a chance to get her arms around those enormous shoulders, she thought she could make allowances. He was so . . . big. So unlike any of the cool, polished guys she’d dated at Brown. He gave confidence a whole new meaning.

  Summer fling, Maddie thought, here I come.

  She stood up slowly, and rested her elbows on the top of the fridge door.

  “What I’d really love is . . . a friend.” Maddie surprised herself as much as she seemed to surprise Henry with her choice of words. What she originally thought she wanted was an ice-cold beer. Earlier in the week, Janet mentioned that she’d been sober for years, and Maddie wasn’t about to stock the refrigerator with beer.

  But a friend? What was she thinking? She already had tons of friends. Not that she was the most popular girl in town or anything, but she had her share of really great friends. But that’s what had come out of her mouth. A friend. Maybe on some level she really did want him like that, platonically. Maybe zero communication with the outside world was beginning to rattle her. Maybe she was a bit of a social media addict after all. She certainly felt like she had tons of free time with no iPad, no iPod, no iPhone . . . no i-anything. The silence lengthened between them.

  The refrigerator moaned back into service from having the door left open too long. Maddie smiled and tried to think of what she could do to get him to talk. Or at least to kiss her, if the talking didn’t pan out.

  CHAPTER 3

  Damn it. Did she have to be so breezy and confident? Madison Post made Henry feel like he was being rude when he was trying to be polite, or at least appropriate. She was overly familiar in that way that always put him off. She was too young. Too smart. Too everything. He’d come over to grab a couple of sodas from his mother’s fridge after a grueling day in the cold water. Was it too much to ask to be left in peace?

  “What are you really doing here, Maddie?”

  She shut the door to the refrigerator and stood about two feet in front of him. Her black T-shirt was snug and almost military. She had on super-short khaki shorts above long, tanned legs and a pair of sneakers. She had great ankles. On anyone else it probably wouldn’t have looked like the sexiest outfit, but Maddie Post did it justice. She was fanning her face with a plain white envelope that didn’t do anything to diminish the light sheen of sweat across her cheeks.

  “Just looking for something cool to drink,” she said slowly.

  What the hell was she trying to pull? If Henry didn’t know better, he’d think she was making a move on him.

  “How old are you?”

  She stopped fanning herself and leaned one shoulder against the refrigerator. “Why? Afraid of robbing the cradle?”

  Hank felt another pull of sexual tension that he hadn’t seen coming. And he always saw it coming.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Sis.”

  Her face clouded. “Don’t call me that, Gilbertson.”

  “Okay, Post.” He smirked and she smirked back. At least the sexual tension was gone, Hank thought with a grateful sigh. “Have a good weekend, then.” He turned and made for the back door.

  “Aw, come on,” she said, slapping the envelope against her thigh. “I just got my first paycheck and I want to celebrate. I don’t know anybody here and your mom’s not around to raise a glass of iced tea.”

  Hank left one hand resting on the handle of the back door. “I’m not really the friend type, Post.” He gestured with one palm out, almost guilty. “I’m what is commonly known as a loner.”

  Maddie tilted her head and narrowed her eyes slightly. “Couldn’t you make an exception, this one time?”

  Henry stared at this woman, basically offering herself to him. What was his problem? She’d be gone in a few months. Maybe they could have a little . . . arrangement. He let go of the door handle and felt like he was letting go of a whole lot more.

  “How much have you got to blow on this celebration of yours?” His voice was low and suggestive as he walked the few steps back into her personal space. He liked the sound of her nervous inhale as she tried to conceal the thread of excitement that having him so close caused. He could deny a lot, but he couldn’t deny the raw sexual energy that snapped between them.

  “I—I don’t know—” she stuttered.

  Henry reached out to her and looked like he was reaching for her chest, but he whipped the white envelope from her hand instead.

  Maddie inhaled. “Hey—”

  “Well, let’s see how much that cheapskate Phil paid you for your troubles—”

  “Give me that—” Maddie cried. “That’s my paycheck.”

  Henry held it out of her reach easily. He was a good five inches taller than she was and it wasn’t much trouble to keep the envelope above his head while he looked up and tore it open.

  Maddie stopped reaching for the envelope when she realized she was backed up to the refrigerator and rubbing herself up against Hank in her effort to grab the paper back from him. His stomach was as rock hard as she’d imagined it would be, especially against the bare skin of her belly . . . which had become exposed when she stretched up to try to get her check back.

  They were both staring at each other and breathing hard. Maddie pulled her T-shirt back into place.

  “Two hundred and thirty-seven dollars.” He whistled at the paltry amount.

  “What?” Maddie yelled and forgot about her wayward T-shirt, giving one last jump and snatching the check from his hand. She stared at the curly ballpoint pen of Phil’s penmanship. “Two hundred and thirty-seven measly dollars?”

  “And eighty-four cents,” Henry whispered as he crowded her closer to the refrigerator.

  She looked up and her dark violet eyes flashed and registered that he was really close.

  “And eighty-four cents,” she whispered and licked her dry lips. “I’m not sure how much of a good time we can have with two hundred dollars . . .”

  “I think we can have a little fun . . . don’t you?” Henry let his index finger trail across the smooth skin of her stomach. It was only an inch or two, but she gasped at the contact.

  “Yeah . . . probably . . .” Maddie’s voice was scratchy as she reached up and touched his rough cheek. He’d come straight from work and he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. “No money fun,” she added.

  Henry smiled at that, and it sliced through her. It might be for the best after all, Maddie thought, that Henry Gilbertson kept that smile to a minimum, because when he let it loose, she pretty much lost her mind. She put the edge of her thumb at the corner of his lips. “You have a great smile.”

  He leaned in and put his lips across hers, tentatively. His grip on her hip firmed, and his other hand reached up to the back of her neck and held her.
But his lips stayed light, in a maddening counterpoint to the hard, controlling pressure of his hands.

  Maddie dropped the check and brought her hand up to hold onto his strong neck, before her legs gave out.

  Henry heard the screech of the front screen door open first. He pulled away quickly, almost shoving Maddie. She jerked against the refrigerator and looked up at him in startled silence. Her mouth was slightly open, her lips plump and wet, her eyes glassy.

  “Do something with your face!” Hank muttered harshly, turning toward the back door, but he didn’t make it in time.

  “Oh! Hi, Hank!” his mother called from the door as she came in from the living room. “I didn’t expect to see you here! Will you stay for dinner?”

  “I don’t know, Mom—”

  “Maddie! What are you doing down there?” Janet looked at Maddie crouched under the kitchen table.

  “I dropped my paycheck.” Maddie peeked out from under the table. She caught a glimpse of Henry’s relieved face when he saw she was looking relatively normal and not all just-kissed. In fact, she looked downright pleased. She stood up and waved the paycheck for Janet to see. “Isn’t it exciting? My first paycheck!”

  Janet put down the grocery bags she’d been carrying. “Oh! How exciting! Let’s go celebrate! Why don’t the three of us go to the movies?”

  Maddie raised her eyebrows and turned to Henry. “Yes! Why don’t we?” Apparently she enjoyed tormenting him. She tugged her T-shirt down at least, so he didn’t have to fight the urge to let his eyes wander to that damnable strip of tanned, smooth flesh that he’d only gotten the briefest hint of against his rough palm.

  “Hank?” his mother prompted.

  “Huh?” He swung his gaze from Maddie.

  “Do you want to come to the movies with us?”