by T. K. Chapin
Hearing him walk the floor of the kitchen toward the foyer—and thus me—I jerked forward and began walking. We almost bumped into each other, and we both sidestepped to the left, then the right.
“Sorry,” we both said.
The frown he was carrying from the kitchen hinted at a smile for the moment as our eyes met. His forest green eyes and musky cologne pulled me. When he touched my arms and shifted me to the opposite side so he could get by, a fire ignited inside me. The sensation of his fingers clasping against my skin swept a tidal wave of warmth throughout my body. Being over a year since I was with John, I missed the warmth of another’s touch. We both kept walking, but I couldn’t help but look back at him. To my joy, he was also looking at me and smiling.
“Amy,” Jody said from behind me, pulling my attention away from Charlie as he left out the door. I looked at her as she asked, “What are you doing in here? The flower beds are almost done.” She lifted her chin as she peered behind her in the hallway that led into the kitchen, which still held a view of the French doors leading to the outside balcony. “Or did you finish them?”
“I, uh. I was going to go do that now.”
“Why’d you come in then?” she questioned.
“I needed a drink,” I replied. As Jody went over to the cupboard, my mind drifted back to Charlie. “How do you know Charlie?” I asked.
Pulling a glass from the cupboard, she said, “He’s my stepson.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really? Wow.”
“Why’s that ‘wow’?” she asked, bringing me a cup of water. Taking it from her, I took a drink as I tried to fabricate a response.
Shrugging, I replied, “I don’t know.”
Jody slowly nodded. “Charles . . . he’s a bit difficult, but I love that kid.” Her eyes followed my cup as I set it down on the counter. Raising an eyebrow, I knew the look she was giving me. It said, ‘I’m not paying you to sit around and drink water.’ Taking the cue, I headed out the French doors that led out to the balcony. Spotting Charlie pushing a canoe out onto the water, I stopped at the railing and watched. He didn’t have a shirt on, even though the air was still chilly outside that morning, but I wasn’t about to run down there and tell him to put one on. His defined shoulders and unclothed torso reminded me again of how long it had been since I had the close touch of a man. I missed the comfort of a man’s arms around me in the form of a hug. Those feelings of being protected and cherished were but a very distant memory. Memories that were tucked away under layers and years of abuse, worry and anxiety. Seeing Charlie made me begin to wonder how Charlie’s arms around me would make me feel. Could he bring me those once familiar feelings? My mind soon drifted elsewhere as I admired his body. This is a sin, I told myself, breaking my concentration off the hunky eye candy. Continuing to the end of the balcony, I headed down to start in on the flower beds.
After finishing a grueling morning of work in the flower beds, I realized on my way home I had forgotten my sweater on the railing of the upper balcony. Sweater or no sweater, I wasn’t going back to Jody’s. I had a handful of errands to run, as it was my only day off. After finishing everything around town I needed to do, I had plans for a night that was going to consist of reruns of General Hospital and bonbons—a new favorite treat of mine.
After a hot shower and slipping into a pair of pajamas, I curled up on the couch to watch my show when the doorbell rang. My heart pounded as I gripped my couch pillow. Though it had been a year, I still worried about John finding me. Glancing at my phone, I saw it was eight o’clock.
The knock came again.
Setting the pillow to my side, I reached under the couch and grabbed my can of pepper spray as a precaution. Holding it behind my back, I stood up and headed to the door. My heart pounded as I approached the door and peered through the peephole to see who it was.
Charlie.
I breathed a sigh of relief and swung open the door, slipping the pepper spray onto the entryway table out of sight. Grasping the edge of the door, I said, “Charlie.”
A sideways smile from the corner of his lip revealed his awkward feelings about being on my porch. He tossed a thumb over his shoulder to his car. “I have your sweater. I brought it.” His eyes traced my Tweety Bird pajamas, and I felt my cheeks flush. Ugh! I can’t believe I’m wearing this.
“Oh, neat. Yeah. Thanks . . .” Raising my eyebrows, I glanced over to his car.
He laughed nervously. “Sorry I didn’t bring it up to the porch. I don’t know why I didn’t do that.” He shook his head. “Let me go get it.”
He turned and jogged down the porch steps and across the gravel to his car. I stepped out onto the porch. Watching as he fumbled through his car, I scanned the perimeter out of habit after having a scare. It was something I did daily after first moving to town, but it became less and less often over the course of the last year. Seeing him pull my red sweater out and holding it up near the car, I smiled. Charlie walked back over and came up to meet me on the porch.
“I came back over to Jody’s to talk to her and saw the sweater on the railing. Figured I’d bring it by.”
“How’d you know where I lived?” I asked.
“Jody.”
Since this guy made the decision to bring my sweater to me, unannounced and after eight at night, I decided to ask, “Why don’t you like her?”
He handed me the sweater and slowly shook his head. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
He pursed his lips and squinted as he tried to figure me out or something. His green eyes looked me over. “Well . . .” He let out a sigh. “It’s just . . . family drama.”
An eyebrow went up as I replied, “Yeah? What kind of family drama, if I may ask?”
“Nothing really. Jody was married to my dad before he passed away, and now she wants to sell his boat down at the marina.”
“Doesn’t seem like that long of story,” I said with a playful smile. Not knowing what else to say without being intrusive, I rubbed the corner of my sweater’s hem and waited for him to say something more about it. He began to look uncomfortable as he adjusted his footing and leaned onto the railing behind him. I went to stop him, but it was too late.
Crack! The railing gave way and broke, sending Charlie flailing, arms and all, along with the whole rickety railing, toppling over to the flower bed below. Darting down the steps, I hurried down to him. Dropping to my knees beside my wounded deliverer, I asked, “Are you all right?”
Grabbing his head as he went beet-red, he flashed a quick nod. He got up in a hurry and brushed off the dirt from his jeans. “I’m sorry. I’m going to fix this.”
“No,” I replied. “That’s okay. I’ll get it taken care of.”
Raising a hand, he said, “I insist. I came over without even a phone call and smashed your porch up. Let me take care of this.” His pleading eyes and sweet smile were hard to resist, but I did.
“Don’t worry about it. It was already falling apart and needed repaired. I’m pretty handy with a hammer and nails.” Noticing a cut above his eyebrow, I said, “You’re bleeding. Come inside and let me clean that cut up.”
“I have to get going.”
I raised an eyebrow as I realized I didn’t even know if this guy was single. “Wife or something waiting at home?”
“Something?” He laughed. “Just a needy house cat is all. She gets mad when I’m gone from the house too long.” He looked back at his car and then at my house. Feeling his forehead with a few fingers, he found the trickle of blood running down the side of his face. “Oh, wow. I guess it’s bleeding pretty good.”
“Come inside.” I tilted my head toward the porch, and he followed behind me. As we walked up the porch and headed through the front door, it dawned on me that I hadn’t had a male in my house in the last year. Not in a non-professional manner, anyway.
As he sat down at the kitchen table, I dampened a wash rag in the sink. Looking back at him, I asked, “Where do you work?”
“Ika
n Web Designs in Spokane. I’m a graphic designer.”
“You like it?” I asked, glancing at him as I grabbed the Band-Aids from the cupboard.
“It’s a good job. I’m looking to branch off on my own soon, though. Go global. Be my own boss and work out of my house. I think something like that would be amazing.” Catching another glimpse of him, I saw his eyes light up at the talk of starting his own business venture. Ambitious. I like that. Finding a Band-Aid that would do the job, I set the box back in the cupboard and walked over to the table.
“Why haven’t you done it?” I asked.
He shrugged.
I nodded slowly as I began to gently dab the blood off his forehead.
His tone soft, he said, “I’ve always got an excuse for why I don’t start doing it. I . . .”
My eyes met his as I pulled the wash rag away from his face. He looked hesitant to continue, so I pressed. “What, Charlie?”
“I’m scared of failing.” He let out a breath of air like a relief valve. He continued, “Huh. I never realized that before.” He watched me as I peeled the wrappings away from the Band-Aid and then asked, “So what’s your deal, Amy? Where’d you come from before Dixie’s diner?”
Rippling memories from my past came rushing to the forefront of my mind, crippling the enjoyable moment. Why’d he have to go there? I sighed. “New York,” I replied curtly. There wasn’t any harm in giving that up to him, and my hope was that he’d drop it. I guess that’s what I get for trying to figure him out. “Have you always lived around here? Around Newport?” I asked, hoping to divert him.
“I know what you’re doing. Don’t try to redirect the focus off yourself, Amy. Tell me. What were you doing in New York City?”
“State. Not City. Um . . . Just living and whatnot.” I placed the Band-Aid over his wound, and my mind continued the conversation where my lips did not. And by living, I mean being beat by a man that I had to run away from and go clear across the country to save myself and my baby. Then I lost the baby and almost ended my life. But I didn’t, thanks to God. After recommitting my life to the Lord, I’m now living by a secret name and trying to pretend my abusive husband doesn’t exist! And I can’t ask for a divorce or he’d find me! Eek! Too bad I didn’t have the courage to tell him.
“Living and whatnot . . . huh.” He raised an eyebrow and touched his forehead where the Band-Aid was now securely fastened. I could tell in his tone and his eyes that he knew there was something more to my story, but he didn’t push it. “Thanks for this.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“No, really. Thank you. It’s not every day that I have a pretty woman taking care of me.”
I beamed. His words were like sweet honey to my ears if they had taste buds—delicious. Feeling drawn to him, I wanted to know more about his life. “What about that boat of your dad’s? Why is that the beef between you and your mom?”
“She’s not my mother, for one.” He stood up, making eye contact with me with those fierce green eyes. I took in a whiff of his scent as he continued, “And for two—I don’t want to talk about it. I get the feeling you with your ‘living and whatnot’ in New York don’t mind not discussing certain things.”
“I’d love that,” I said with a bit more enthusiasm than I should have had.
He flashed me a pearly white smile, heading for the front door.
“See you Thursday?” I blurted out.
He looked back at me and said, “See you Thursday.”
As the door shut, I caught myself smiling, and it worried me. Am I really ready to pursue a relationship with someone? The idea of dating again was laughable. Awkward long pauses at the front door, wondering if he’d kiss me. Ugh. When I had laid out my plan for my new life, I never dreamed of adding a new relationship to the mix. My assumption was that I’d never love again, but that was a bit dramatic. I knew I wanted kids and a family someday, just not sure when. John was a jerk. It’d be easy for me to fall in love, and I was scared of that. My eyes drifted to Milo as he leaped onto the entertainment stand and made himself comfortable in front of the TV. Pulling back the curtain that draped over the living room window, I watched as Charlie got into his car.
The walls I had built up around me over the last year weren’t coming down, but they were definitely feeling a bit weaker in spots.
Chapter 7
Arriving at Dixie’s the following Monday, I checked my phone after feeling it buzz in my pocket on the drive in. Checking to see who it was, I was pleasantly surprised to see it was Joe. He had received the shingles a day early and had time to start work on the roof that afternoon.
Me: Great! If you need to go inside at all, just let yourself in with the key that’s under the clay tortoise on the porch.
Joe: Ha-ha. Why even lock your door if you just leave a key hidden in a place that obvious?
Me: Never thought of it that way. Heading into work now. See you around three when I’m off work.
With a spring in my step, I went inside and clocked in for my shift. The restaurant was beginning to get busy as the usual morning patrons began showing up. Refilling coffees, delivering plates of food, and talking about the latest bear attack with the locals filled most the early parts of my shift. To my surprise, Frank and Sue came in around eleven thirty.
“Pretty early for you two,” I said, greeting them as I approached their table. “Going to have some breakfast?”
“No,” Sue replied. “We’re just having an early lunch. The usual will be fine. You sure do look lovely today, Amy. Did you get a haircut?”
Raising an eyebrow, I replied, “Nope. Just in a good mood.”
“You do have a certain glow to you,” Frank added.
“I did find out I’m getting my roof repaired today,” I replied, jotting down their usual order of meatloaf and potatoes on my order pad. “Things are just going really good right now.”
“Good,” Frank said.
Walking back through the restaurant, I dwelled on the term Frank used—glow. I touched my cheek as I walked up to the server window, and Diego asked, “What’s going on with your cheek?”
Peering over my shoulder in the direction of Frank and Sue, I said, “Frank told me I have a glow.”
“You do seem happy today,” Diego replied, snatching an order slip from a clip. His eyes ran over the piece of paper for a moment, and then he set it aside and turned around to the flat top. What does a glow even mean, really? My mind wandered to the last time I saw Charlie sitting at my table. I smiled. He was getting to me more than I was letting myself realize.
“Amy,” Wendy said with a stern voice from the corner that wrapped down a hallway to the back. Raising my eyebrows, I jerked my head to her, giving my full attention. “Did you serve a woman a ginger ale the other day when she asked for an iced tea?”
Fumbling through my mind and tables, I didn’t recall the incident. “No.”
She squinted with suspicious eyes as she looked me over. “Okay . . .” Glancing to the front door, she continued, “Let Miley know to come see me when she gets in.”
After work, I arrived home not only to Joe’s truck, but Charlie’s car in my driveway. Then, in front of my house, stood the two fully-grown men arguing and shouting at one another. Seeing the situation escalate between them, I parked quickly and rushed across the gravel over to the two of them.
“What on earth is going on?” I asked, seeing Joe with a trickle of blood dripping from his nose.
Joe shot a nod in Charlie’s direction and said, “Why don’t you ask lover boy here?” Walking past me, he headed to his truck and said, “Let me know when he’s not here, and I’ll finish the job.” The slam of his driver’s side door made me cringe.
I raised my eyebrows as I saw Charlie with a grimace. Staring at Joe, I asked, “What happened?”
Joe’s truck started, and he peeled out of the driveway in reverse, kicking rocks up in a fury as he tore out of the driveway. I’m probably going to get stuck with full-price now.
>
“A disagreement. That’s all.” Charlie turned and went over to the porch, where I saw a few freshly installed two-by-fours already secured in place while a pile of others sat on the ground in front of the flower bed.
“I’ll ask again—what happened?” I asked, following behind him.
Charlie turned around and looked me in the eyes. He looked not only upset, but reluctant. Letting out a sigh, he cleared his throat and said smoothly, “Joe Dilasky and I went to high school together . . . and well, we just have an old beef.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “And what? You tried to settle it with him in front of my house?”
“No. I didn’t even bring anything up. It was so long ago. I just went about what I was doing, but he brought it up and started going off about it.” Charlie picked up a two-by-four and his hammer and walked over to the porch.
“So you hit him because he was talking to you?” I asked. Though the details might have not been important to most people, they were to me. Violence was a touchy subject due to my history with John, and if I was taking an interest in the same type of man, I needed to know.
“No. When I didn’t respond to him, he began pushing me and even shoved me over. I snapped and knocked him in the face with a good punch.”
“You solved the problem with violence—cool.” My eyes rolled, and my interest began dwindling with that one choice he made.
“Look—I didn’t start it. He’s a jerk, and I don’t like him. I defended myself.”
Nodding, I said, “Whatever. I need to go inside and change.”
Walking past him, I went up the porch steps and stopped before I went inside. I looked back at him. His eyes met mine, and I saw him in a different light in that moment. He reminded me too much of someone I ran away from, someone I wanted nothing to do with anymore. I turned and went inside. There was no way I was going to put up with behaviors like that from another guy. It reminded me too much of John, and I wasn’t interested in becoming another punching bag for someone who used violence to work through their problems in life. Dropping my keys on the entryway table, I headed through the living room toward the hallway. Letting my palm run along Milo’s back, I whispered, “At least I have you.”