by Gayle Roper
Well, she had the job, and it was both paying and creative. The loving Christian family—it was number one on her request list. She cleared her throat and changed the subject.
"I don't think I've ever met a writer before. Well, maybe a college professor, but they don't count. I mean a regular person who writes."
"That's me. Dane Cavanaugh, regular person."
"What kind of books do you write?"
"Mysteries. I sort of stalk the Seaside PD for stories."
"Like Castle!" She grinned. "Do you have a Beckett you follow?"
"I wish! I follow a guy named Greg."
"No TV series there."
"None. How about you? What do you do?"
"I teach first grade." Would she ever get tired of saying that?
"I can't imagine spending my day with little people who can't read, and when they finally can, it's 'Red fish, blue fish. Who are you, fish?'"
She laughed. "I think you have that wrong."
"I absolutely do, and I don't care. Do you teach in Seaside?"
She nodded. "My first year here." She shrugged. "My first year anywhere."
He studied her for a moment. "You don't look that young."
She raised her eyebrows. "You're saying I look old?"
Chapter Four
Dane laughed and held up a hand to ward off Kelli's frown. "I've got four sisters. You'd think I'd have learned to think a bit before I spoke." He searched for the best words, so he wouldn't make dinner really awkward. "I'm saying you look much too good to be that young."
She laughed, and he smiled back. He liked when she forgot to be afraid of him.
"So you're into older women?" Her one eyebrow cocked up.
He studied her, those pretty brown eyes with the golden flecks. A foolish line popped into his mind, one in a long line of offbeat prose that just burst into being when he least expected them. He stared into her UPS eyes, not the flat lifeless brown of his UPS uniform but the lustrous, shining brown of his truck.
He mentally rolled his eyes. There was a line sure to impress her. If he ever put such drivel in one of his books, he'd be laughed out of the mystery writers' club. He stabbed his last green piece of lettuce. "Let's say I appreciate the insight and appearance maturity brings."
She shook her head. "Now all I have to wonder about is how you define mature."
"Will beautiful do?"
She looked surprised as she struggled not to laugh. "Nice save."
Their server appeared with their main course, and he watched as Kelli put pepper on her potatoes, but no salt. Who used pepper without salt? Said he who should buy stock in Morton's.
He was like the ocean, full of salty depths, while she floated on a fresh water lake hedged with jalapenos. Hmm. He liked the alliteration hedged with jalapenos, even if they were the wrong kind of peppers.
"This is my first year teaching," she said, pulling him from his contemplation of spicy veggies, "because I put myself through college. It took a long time because I didn't want to be crippled with debt."
"No help from Dad and Mom?"
She became very interested in her flounder. "No."
There was a story there, things she wasn't saying or felt she shouldn't say. Curiosity was one of his dominant attributes. Maybe he wouldn't limit himself to discovering Annalise.
"You like teaching?" he asked.
"I do. I've wanted to be a teacher as long as I can remember."
"That's how long I've wanted to be a writer." He buttered a piece of his roll. "How did you end up in Seaside?"
"There was a job available." She shrugged. "And they offered it to me."
Again he had the impression there were many things she hadn't said. "No jobs in Alabama?"
She gave a faint smile. "I wanted a change. Getting the job was easy compared to getting a landlord who'd allow Charlie in his apartment."
"You should have gotten one of those little dogs women carry around in their purses."
"Like I have room in my purse for a dog, no matter how small." She indicated the little floral wallet on the table.
"That's it? My sisters carry the equivalent of Army duffels."
"I go for compact. Anything bigger and Charlie tries to climb in."
Dane laughed at the picture of Charlie, huge head sticking out of one of his sisters' bags. "How old is he?"
"Four.
"He's one big dude."
"He's my guy." For the first time, she spoke without guarding her feelings.
"Do you find him hard to manage? I mean, he's huge!"
She smiled. "Charlie's a good boy, though he and I struggled to establish who was the alpha when he was young. Let's say I would've graduated from college a semester earlier if it weren't for the obedience classes and their cost."
He could imagine her with her UPS eyes flashing, all intent and resolve, shouting, "Sit! Stay!" over the incessant whining and barking of Charlie. The picture made him smile. "Have you always had a dog?"
"Ever since I've lived on my own. Before Charlie, I had a German shepherd. Andre. And before you comment, he was a rescue and already named. He only lived five years after I got him."
He did some mental math. Five years with Andre. Four years with Charlie. Nine years on her own. She must have left home as soon as she graduated from high school.
"How'd you put yourself through college?"
"Waitress." She held up a hand. "Or I should say server to be politically correct. Flexible hours and a boss who let me work as much as I wanted."
"You made enough to pay for your education?" He watched their server clearing their dishes. When she walked away, he said, "I didn't know they made that much."
"Depends on where you work. I did well."
Their server reappeared. "May I get you dessert and coffee?"
She ordered a piece of double chocolate cake. "If I'm not eating Lean Cuisine, I'm going all the way."
He watched her enjoy the dessert as he sipped his coffee. "Family?
Her fork stalled for just the barest moment, but he saw it.
"Yes." She slid the piece in her mouth, swallowed, took a drink of her coffee. "You said you had four sisters?"
Oh, lady, you may think you're just changing the subject, but you're giving me all sorts of information. When she'd told him about her little church loving and encouraging her and crying when she left, she'd inadvertently told him her family didn't do those things. Why? With her story to explore, he suddenly felt the winter wouldn't be as dark or solitary as he'd expected.
"I've four sisters." And he launched into a humorous description of growing up in the middle of the girls, the constantly busy bathrooms, the never-ending experimentation with makeup and hair, the relentless search for the perfect boy.
"You love them," Kelli said in amazement. That told him a lot, too.
"I do. They're great girls. Women," he corrected himself, "though they'll always be girls to me. Why don't you come to dinner with me tomorrow and meet them?"
He knew immediately he'd probably overstepped. Dutch treat in a restaurant was one thing; dinner with the family was another. But Lean Cuisine for Thanksgiving?
Kelli blinked. "Oh, I couldn't."
"Sure you could. You'll enjoy them, and you'll save me."
"I don't doubt I'd enjoy them, but save you?"
"My mom and the girls are on a quest to see me married. The fact that I'm happy as a bachelor doesn't seem to mean anything to them. If I show up with a woman, they'll leave me alone."
"I would be your burnt offering on the altar of peace?"
He gave a little laugh, but he felt relief. She understood. If she accepted his invitation, everything would be fine. He'd get the family off his back, and she wouldn't be alone. "Put that way, it doesn't sound very inviting, does it?"
She smiled and finished off her dessert.
Chapter Five
Outside the restaurant, Kelli shivered as the wind whistled around her. Thin blood. Wasn't that what they said?
As they wa
ited for the light at the corner, Dane looked up. "I wonder if the snow will start tonight or wait until tomorrow."
"You sound like you're looking forward to it."
"I am," he said. "I like winter."
"People actually like being cold?"
"Sure. Why do you think they live in Maine and Minnesota?" When the light turned green, he took her elbow and led her across the street. She felt like a little old lady being helped by a Boy Scout eager to earn a badge in Geriatrics. On the other hand, it was nice to feel protected and cared for. After a life spent caring for herself and everyone else, she could get used to such courtesy all too easily.
A thought hit her as she shivered again. "Are there any dog walkers in Seaside? I could stay home nice and toasty while someone else slogged through the drifts with Charlie." She could see her dog leading a pack of all sizes as some enterprising person walked them around town.
Dane laughed. "No dog walkers to my knowledge. And the snow's not supposed to be that bad. Only an inch or two."
Kelli frowned. "How can they tell? How much snow, I mean."
He looked thoughtful. "The same way they tell how much rain, I guess."
"Ah. Secret weatherman stuff. Got it."
He grinned. "Does your landlord have someone to shovel the walk, or are you supposed to do it?"
She stopped and stared at him. "Me? I don't even have a shovel."
He nodded as if he'd expected that answer. "If there's anything worth shoveling, I'll take care of it tomorrow. You can check with the landlord and find out what he expects before it snows again."
"I don't want you to have to take care of me."
"Don't worry about it. I live next door, remember?"
As if she could forget. Proximity meant secrets weren't secrets anymore. All the neighbors back home knew Dad was a lush and Nance a borderline incompetent mother. A trash can full of empty liquor bottles and kids running wild in dirty clothes were but two of the obvious clues to her family's dysfunction.
Of course none of those things were happening here. Diet soda cans and Charlie were her identifiers these days.
She unlocked her car door, and he opened it and held it for her again. She smiled her thanks as she slid inside. On the way home she composed the email she'd send to Mrs. Abel.
I've met the nicest man. He's the UPS guy and he lives next door.
We went out to dinner, and he didn't argue when I insisted on paying for my meal. But here's the best part—he prays! In public. Without embarrassment.
She could just imagine the response.
I'm so glad, dear Kelli, but make sure his relationship with God is more than saying grace. Does he go to church regularly?
Does he read his Bible? When did he believe in Jesus? You know the questions to ask better than I do. Just be sure you ask them. I'm praying. Everyone at church misses you. I miss you.
Kelli thought back to the Sunday that changed everything. She'd been going to her little storefront church for two months, a skinny girl sneaking in to sit in the back row and leaving right away, in case she was doing something wrong by being there. Then came the Sunday there was going to be a dinner after church. All during the service she smelled the wonderful aromas drifting from the little kitchen. She wished she had the courage to stay. All that awaited her at home was peanut butter.
When everyone stood to sing the last song, Kelli turned to go. Standing at the end of her row and blocking her exit was a round blonde lady about the age of her mother—or what she assumed was the age of her mother. No one had seen Marcy Parsons since she'd decided she didn't like being the mother of two bothersome girls and the wife of a drunk.
"Will you help me put the food on the table?" the blonde lady asked the young Kelli. "If you will, then you and I can let everyone else relax and have fun. We can be servants in Jesus' name."
Kelli-the-people-pleaser helped and found herself a family that showered her with the affection and encouragement her biological family didn't. Mrs. Abel had been key in the loving—and advice-giving.
"No elbows on the table, Kelli. Put your hand that's not holding your fork in your lap."
"You know you are a very special girl, right? You know this is true because Jesus died for you."
"Sit up straight so you look poised and in control, my dear."
"Don't forget to use deodorant every day, and wash thoroughly during that time of month."
"Never forget Whose you are."
Her favorite was the day Mrs. Abel said, "I want you to know that I pray for you every day, Kelli." And her last day before driving to Seaside, Mrs. Abel said, "I will still be praying for you every day until the day I die."
Kelli blinked against tears. She missed that woman! Did Dane have a Mrs. Abel—or a Mr. Abel—in his life?
Dane parked behind her on Central and met her on the sidewalk in front of her place. "Ready to look for Annalise?" He had a laptop tucked under his arm. He saw her looking at it and motioned to his car. "I was writing at the coffee shop downtown after work. I didn't think I should show up with it—a bit presumptuous—so I left it in the car."
"Pretty confident, weren't you?"
"Just very hopeful."
Charlie greeted them with his leash in his mouth. Kelli clipped it onto his collar. "A dog walker! I yearn for a dog walker!" She flipped her collar up. "It won't take long."
"Let's go." Dane retucked the scarf he'd pulled off.
He was going to walk with her? In this weather? On purpose?
She was afraid her pleasure showed, and she turned away. "I need to put on another layer." She handed the leash to Dane and disappeared into her bedroom. She pulled off her coat and the fleece top and put on a sweater. Then she put the top and coat back on. She grabbed a scarf that Mrs. Abel had knit and given her as a going away gift.
She joined Dane and Charlie on the porch. "I can't move my arms. Too many layers. I feel like the little brother in A Christmas Story."
He nodded. "Randy, the one in the snowsuit who can't bend. Love that kid."
They clattered down the stairs. "Once around the block should do it," she said.
He nodded. "Sounds good." But after Charlie took care of nature's call and Kelli scooped, Dane said, "Let's go up on the boardwalk."
"It'll be cold!"
"It'll be invigorating."
She snorted. "Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." But she turned after him.
Chapter Six
The boardwalk was deserted, the beach and ocean black voids but for faint lines of white showing the breaking surf. The stores were shuttered for the season except for a pizza place, whose lights sent an eerie shaft of brightness into the night a couple blocks away.
"Is that place open all year?" Kelli asked.
"It is. It's by a ramp in the center of town, so people can walk up quickly, get what they want, and go. You'll learn that an amazing number of people like to walk or jog on the boardwalk all year."
A blast of wind caused Kelli to fall back a step. "Right." Charlie lifted his face to the wind and smiled.
Dane scanned the sky. "No moon, no stars. Heavy clouds. Looks like they're right about the snow."
Feeling sheepish, she confessed, "I've never seen it or felt it. Snow, I mean."
"What? Never?"
"I've seen it in pictures and movies and stuff, just not in real life. Alabama, remember?"
Something small and white floated past. She followed it down, only to see another glide by. She looked up and saw lots of little white specks falling. "Oh! It's started! How lovely!"
Charlie stopped and pulled his head back as a flake landed on his nose.
She stopped too. "Should we go back?" Maybe watch it from her big porch, safe under the protection of the roof?
"A couple of blocks more. There's something so soothing about walking in a gentle snowfall."
Soothing? Really? And it wasn't so gentle. It was suddenly coming down hard. "But we'll get wet. We'll freeze."
"Nah, not with a snowfall
like this." He tilted his head back, stuck out his tongue, and waited. "Come on. Try and catch a snowflake or two."
"You're kidding."
"Not at all. We used to do it as kids all the time. Come on. Try." He glanced right and left. "There's no one to see the teacher acting like one of her students." He threw his head back and opened his mouth again.
Feeling foolish, Kelli copied his movements. She wasn't sure anything fell in her mouth, but she could feel the gentle spatters of cold fall on her face. "This would be wonderful if my ears weren't so cold."
He smiled. "Let me fix it for you." He stepped close, unwound her scarf and draped it over her head so her ears were covered. He crossed it under her chin and again in the back of her neck. He tucked the ends into her coat and pulled up her collar. "Better?"
"I feel warmer already." But she was afraid she owed that to the heated shivers running down her back from his touch.
As they resumed walking, Dane took her hand. Both were wearing gloves, but she still felt a tingle. Ridiculous. Impossible. You can't feel through layers, but her heart apparently didn't know that.
The snow fell steadily, and once they passed the pizza place, Kelli felt as if they were the only people in the world. Even the sound of the breaking waves seemed less obvious.
"I didn't know falling snow shrouded sound."
He nodded. "Accumulated snow is even more effective. Something about the flakes interrupting sound waves. Diminishes sound but doesn't stop it. Sort of like trusting in the Lord eases loneliness. It doesn't go away; it's just less evident."
She looked at him. It was a lovely comparison, and he'd said it with no awkwardness, but she wondered. Was he lonely? Him with his big family dinner tomorrow? Probably not, so the comment had been directed at her. How much had she given away? How much had he figured out?
He gave her hand a little squeeze. "Being lonely when you're away from all you've ever known? That's to be expected."
She shrugged ruefully. "I think I've been lonely my whole life."
She wanted to slap her hand over her mouth. Unfortunately he held one, and Charlie's leash was in the other. She felt her face flame in spite of the cold. She'd given away way too much.