by Leah Atwood
“The lawyer’s office? We discussed taking the marriage certificate to them finally.”
“It’s that late already?” She stole a glance at the clock. 1:07. She’d made hardly any progress in three hours. “At this rate, I’m never going to finish the website.”
“The beginning is always the hardest. We’ll get it perfect.”
We’ll—the word washed over her like a warm breeze. “Glad you have the confidence.”
“You’re stressing too much about it and causing a brain freeze.” He shifted his weight to his right foot. “I have an idea. Let’s go out to dinner after the meeting. Give your mind time to relax. You’ve been working hard for three weeks straight.”
“Lisa was going to cook.” It was a flimsy excuse, and she knew it.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the night off.”
“I’ll go talk to her.” And have a chat with my heart.
***
How they ended up bowling, Sunny didn’t know exactly. They’d had an early dinner at the Mexican restaurant in Linnsboro, and neither had wanted to go home so soon. None of the movies at the theatre appealed to them, the coffee shop was old school and closed at noon, and there wasn’t much else to do in Linnsboro after five.
Except bowling.
Sean stood at the counter, paying for their games. “What size shoe do you need?”
“Six.”
He repeated her answer to the attendant and told him size twelve for himself.
“You’ll be in lane seven. Once you enter your names and push start, you’ll have three minutes of practice before the frames begin.” The attendant handed a slip of paper to Sean. “Here’s your receipt. On the back is a coupon for the concession stand.”
“Thank you.” Sean stuffed the paper in his wallet and pocketed it in tan casual pants. He took her shoes from the counter and handed them over.
She looked in horror at the red and green shoes whose style reminded her of the black and white saddle shoes her mother dressed her in as a toddler and preschooler. She’d been convinced every child her age owned a pair.
Sean leaned in to say something. “It’s not that bad. They disinfect them after every use.”
“Still creeps me out.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Think they’ll say anything if I bowl in my socks?”
“Probably.”
“I can do this.” She repeated the mantra as they strode to lane six. By the time she sat at the table by their lane, she’d convinced herself wearing the bowling shoes wasn’t that bad. Thousands of people bowled every day in borrowed shoes, and she did have her socks as a barrier. Focus on the good. You’re spending time with Sean.
Hunched over, Sean tied the laces of his shoes. She thought it odd that he put them both on and then tied. Her habit had always required tying before moving to the opposite foot.
“Do you know how this works?” She stared at the computer screen on the table. “The last time I went bowling, they handed out papers to keep score.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.” He finished tying a lace and sat on the opposite chair of the computer. “You’ve really not been bowling in that long?”
“None of my friends liked it, so I never had anyone to go with.” It didn’t seem that implausible to her. “How often do you go?”
“A lot. One of my clients owned a bowling alley and gave me three years of free bowling.” He pushed a button on the screen, then looked up with a smirk. “Made for lots of cheap dates.”
“I don’t believe you, Mr. Spares-no-expenses.”
“On things and people I care about, sure. Blind dates and first dates I didn’t want to impress? You can be sure I took them bowling.” The screen prompted him to enter a name. “Do you want to go first or second?”
“You go first, give me a chance to warm up.”
He typed their names and soon they were on the high-up television screen for everyone to see.
Only two other groups were playing, both at the other end of the bowling alley. Sunny went to the next return over and grabbed the metallic purple ball. An eleven-pounder. It was a little heavy for her, but she loved the color.
Sean grabbed a thirteen-pound ball from the return.
“How boring.” She set her sparkly ball down where his had been.
“Huh?”
“You could have chosen the orange or yellow, but you picked boring, matte black.”
He eyed her with intrigue. “What does it matter? They all roll the same—black, yellow, or orange.”
“But color adds more fun.”
“Black is sensible, practical, and goes with everything.” Smirking, he looked down at his feet. “Even these shoes.”
She burst into laughter. “You have a good point there. My purple ball definitely clashes with my shoes, but then again, I’ve never been great at accessorizing. That was Raina’s specialty.”
“You compare yourself often to Raina.”
Do I? “If I do, it’s only because we grew up so close. She’s my sister and best friend.”
His head bobbed in a nod, but she got the feeling she was being patronized. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t say. He stepped to the line, swung his arm back and released the ball. It rolled down the middle of the lane, over the center arrow and struck the front pin. A domino effect knocked down the remaining nine.
He punched the air. A cheesy smile covered his mouth when he turned around. “Strike.”
Sunny bent her head to hide her laughter. Not to say Sean didn’t have a sense of humor, but he usually acted in a professionally manner or turned on his unassuming charm. This side of him was new and unexpected, and it did nothing to quell her growing feelings for him. If anything, it endeared him more to her, made him not so intimidating. And cast him in an adorable light.
“Your turn.” He nodded toward the pins.
“Don’t you go again?”
He shook his head. “Not with a strike, and besides, we’re still in practice frames.”
“Okay.” She grabbed her ball and slipped her fingers into the appropriate holes.
Unlike Sean, she began her approach from several feet before the line, swinging her arm as walked. When she released the ball, she watched it go down the lane. It ventured to the left. A little more. And a tad bit more still.
“No.” She waved her arms and swayed her hips, beckoning the ball back toward the center.
It didn’t follow her commands and rolled straight into the gutter.
She spun around, planning to wait at the ball return for a whirlwind of purple to shoot through. Instead, she saw Sean laughing at her.
“What’s so funny?”
He moved his hands and hips, imitating her speech to the ball. “How’d that work out for you?”
“Oh shush.” She elbowed him in the ribs.
“Need help from the master?” He wagged his brows.
“Humble, aren’t we?”
“I prefer confident.”
Their practice minutes ran out while they teased each other.
Sunny pointed to his name on the screen. “You’re up, master bowler.”
Before he grabbed his bowling ball, he threw her a wink. “Watch and see how it’s done.”
Every pin fell, and the screen lit up with animated figures celebrating the strike.
Grabbing her chosen ball, she concentrated on getting the ball down the lane. She wouldn’t let Sean show her up that badly. I can do this. Her eyes focused on the center arrows, determined to send the ball their way. She released. Again the ball went to the left. Into the gutter. Well, this is embarrassing.
“You’re twisting your wrist at the last second.”
She turned around to see Sean staring at her. “I wasn’t turning my wrist.”
“You likely didn’t notice because it comes so naturally, like this.” He held out one arm and pretended to throw the ball down the lane, his wrist barely moving. “That smallest of rotation will throw off your aim. Try keeping your focus
on your wrist, not the ball, until you’re used to the motion.”
“Okay.” She accepted his advice in stride. She’d never cared for people telling her how to do something, but after two-gutter balls in a row, she obviously needed instruction.
Taking heed to his suggestion, she focused on her wrist. She approached the line, concentrated on keeping her arm straight and released the ball. It hit a corner pin which fell another on its way down. Two pins. Not great, but better than a third ball in the gutter.
“You’ll get it.” Sean smiled and took his turn. Nine pins down total.
Her turn came again. Despite her best efforts, the ball refused to go straight. Bummed, she decided she didn’t care for bowling.
Sean came to her side at the ball return. “Want some help?”
She gave him a dubious look. “How? You’ve already told me what to do, but it’s pretty obvious that professional bowling is not in my future.”
“I’ll show you.” He picked up the purple ball and handed it to her.
Taking the ball, their fingers brushed. A small jolt shocked her. She carried the ball to the line.
Sean followed her, staying directly behind her. He put his arms around her, encircled her wrist with a hand. “Bowl how you normally would. I’ll keep your wrist straight for you.”
Concentrating was nearly impossible. Sean’s closeness and touch erased her focus, but he did the work for her. He swung her arm backward, keeping a firm grasp on her wrist. When she released the ball, she watched in amazement as it stayed straight and center. Eight pins fell down.
In her excitement, she turned around, forgetting how close Sean was to her.
Before she could move, he wrapped her in a celebratory hug. “Great job.”
I changed my mind. Bowling does have its perks.
“Thanks to you.” She didn’t rush to move away from him and decided there and then she’d also need his help for the remaining frames.
Chapter Ten
“Yes, Mom, I’ll wrap everything carefully.” Sean had his phone on speaker, lying on the end table at his grandfather’s cabin.
“Gramps wants you to send him the antler bookends he bought in Alaska, and the ceramic maple leaf from Vermont.”
“You told me about those on your first call, and I’ve already put them aside.” He’d formed a headache after his mom’s fourth call of the day. They were currently on call number five. He rubbed his temples to ease the building tension.
“No, he said my brother could have them but changed his mind.”
He remembered the conversation with vivid precision. His uncle had wanted them, and his grandfather had given an absolute no. “Are you feeling okay, Mom? You sound tired.”
“I’m not sure we’re doing the right thing by packing up all Gramps’ belongings.” Her sad sigh softened his irritation. “It feels too final, like we don’t think he’ll be here much longer.”
Grabbing his phone, Sean plopped down on the sofa and turned off the speaker. “Nobody is giving up on him, Mom. Just because he can’t live on his own anymore, doesn’t mean his life is over. You’ve said it yourself numerous times. He’s thriving at the assisted living home.”
“My head knows that, but my heart isn’t getting the message.” Her voice shook. “It’s not helping matters that he had a rough weekend. I called out of work this morning so I could stay an extra day.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You’re doing enough. I’ve known for a while that we either had to clear out the cabin or cut off access to the whole family, but I didn’t want to admit it.”
“If you’d seen how it looked when I first came here last month, the decision would have been easier.” He clenched his fists, thinking how his cousins had disrespected his grandfather’s place.
“I’ll tell you something, but you have to promise not to repeat it.” A sense of foreboding filled her words.
“I promise.”
“Your uncle has taken several valuable items from the house and tried to sell them.” His mom paused and took a long, angry breath. “I only discovered it because your father spotted the items on a local online web-store.”
“Are you serious?” Righteous anger pulsed through his body. “Why would he do that?”
“Greed? I don’t know, sweetheart. Your Uncle Rusty has never walked the straight and narrow. I love his children, but goodness knows the apples didn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Does Aunt Fay know?”
“No. She is good friends with Aunt Cindy, and goodness knows Cindy needs all the friends she can get after dealing with Rusty for twenty-five years. I’d hate to cause any strife between them.”
“Were you able to retrieve the items?” He still couldn’t believe his family would do that.
“Yes. Your father drove straight to his house and demanded them.”
“And you still let his sons stay here and trash the place?” He gripped the ends of his hair out of frustration. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound accusing.”
“This happened right before that, and unfortunately, I don’t get a say whether they can stay or not. All three siblings have equal guest privileges.”
“That stinks.”
“I agree, but I don’t want any more stress added to Dad, so for now, that’s how it is. Fay and her husband, and your father and I take turns going every few months to check on it.” She paused for a moment. “Having you nearby for now helps my peace of mind tremendously. I really appreciate the work you’ve put into it.”
“It’s the least I can do.” Unable to sit still for long, he rose to his feet and stood on the porch.
“How is married life treating you?” His mom asked so casually, he almost forgot she knew the truth about why he’d married.
“I have the best non-real, legal marriage possible.” He laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. “Sunny’s great.”
“I really like her. Do you think you all could make a trip into Maryville and have dinner with us?”
“We have guests coming on a regular basis, but I’ll ask her. I’m sure she’d love to see you again.” She might balk for a few minutes, but only because she was uncomfortable around people she didn’t know. He hadn’t figured out yet how that translated into her loving the interaction with her guests, but his wife was an enigma—and he enjoyed unraveling every layer as he got to know her.
“Let me know. And don’t forget to get her an anniversary present.”
“For what?”
An exasperated huff blew into his ear from over the phone. “Your one-month anniversary is tomorrow.”
It was? He looked at the date on his watch. Sure enough his mom was right, but… “Do people celebrate that?”
“Newlyweds do.”
“We’re not like most newly married couples, Mom.”
“Your reasons for getting married don’t matter now, you still ought to treat it like a real marriage, and all women want to be romanced.” She tsked. “It’s no wonder you never had a long-term girlfriend.”
“What about Laurena?”
She snorted. “Do you really want to claim her as one?”
He burst into laughter. “You’re right.”
“Promise me you’ll at least try to think of something special for her, all right?”
“I’ll do my best.”
He could almost guarantee she’d just rolled her eyes at him. “You better.”
“If you want me to finish packing anytime soon, I need to get busy again. Call me if you need anything else.”
“I will, and thanks again for taking care of it. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
After he hung up, he continued boxing up the items in the cabin. Items like pots, pans, and linens would stay—anything that could be used for a weekend wouldn’t be put away. His concern were items with sentimental value that could be destroyed by carelessness, and, after what his mom had told him, items with monetary value that co
uld be used to make an extra buck.
His mind made its way back to the anniversary. In one way, he found it hard to believe a month had passed already. It seemed like yesterday they’d said “I do”, but it felt like Sunny had been in his life for longer than their month of marriage and two-week engagement. Although he still had a lot to discover, he knew Sunny in a way that six weeks wouldn’t normally allow. He’d dated Laurena for longer than that, yet he hadn’t known her at all.
What if his wife thought the idea of a one-month anniversary was dumb? He’d feel ridiculous showing up with a gift in hand, only to be laughed at. Get a grip, Sean. Since when had he cared what others thought about him? But others weren’t Sunny. Beyond that, Sunny didn’t have it in her to mock someone for a kind thought. Sure, they joked and teased each other often, giving as good as they got, but all in good fun.
It wouldn’t hurt to get her a gift. Where could he pick up one between now and tomorrow? His only option was Lyon’s Grocery and Gifts, but they closed at six. He checked the time and cringed. How was it five o’clock already? There was no way he’d finish the packing today, even if he didn’t leave early to make it to the store. Talking to his mom—four calls total—had put him behind schedule, but he couldn’t blame it all on her. His mind had wandered often, daydreaming about Sunny.
Deciding to call it a day, he tucked the packing tape and scissors on an empty bookshelf. He cleaned up the scraps of newsprint and bubble wrap and set them aside. Who knew if he might need them by the time he neared the end of the job.
He locked the doors, tempted to swing by the hardware store tomorrow and buy new locks. Knowing his uncle had stolen from the house left Sean furious. Uncle Rusty had no right. He didn’t understand how a man who came from two great people turned out to be such a jerk. Stealing was wrong to begin with, but from family?
Let it go. Using up that negative energy was pointless when there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He’d pray for his uncle, and for wisdom for the family members who had to deal with him.
Still stewing as he got in his car, he forced himself to think of anything else besides his uncle. Sunny and marriage came to mind, and he realized he hadn’t thought of Madison in over a week, and even then it had only been fleeting. The epiphany affirmed what he’d told Sunny—he wasn’t in love with Madison anymore.