“He has a beautiful ass,” Denise rhapsodized, sidling up on Katie’s right. “Don’t you miss it?”
“Sometimes,” Katie admitted.
Bitsy sidled up on Katie’s left. “He still loves you.”
Katie ignored her.
Denise looked forlorn as she ordered a Diet Coke from Frank, who had happily assumed his rightful place behind the bar. “I can’t believe you’re really leaving. Fat Fighters won’t be the same without you.”
Katie was surprised to find herself getting choked up. Returning to Didsbury for her sabbatical year, she never imagined she’d make new friends. Yet here she was, saddened by the prospect of not hanging out at Tabitha’s every week with Bitsy and Denise.
“You guys can always visit me, you know.”
“You can visit us, too,” Bitsy reminded her. “Unless you still find Didsbury too suffocating to ever return to.”
“You know I don’t feel that way anymore, Bits.”
“Good,” said Bitsy, looking relieved. “Now aren’t you glad you went to the reunion last fall?”
The question stopped Katie in her tracks. She’d never really paused to think about the chain of events the reunion had set off. If she’d skipped it, she’d never have met Denise, who would have never introduced her to Bitsy at Fat Fighters. She never would have arrived at an appreciation of her past. And then there was Paul.
She glanced around the bar, looking for him. Predictable as ever, he stood watching Tuck and Gary play table hockey. He appeared to be coaching them.
“Can you guys excuse me?” she asked her friends. “I need to talk to Paul a minute.”
She ignored the knowing look that passed between Bitsy and Denise. “Have fun,” Denise trilled.
Walking over to Paul, Katie passed her mother on the way: She was talking to Snake about Mina. Katie was glad Paul invited Snake, whom she realized she now considered family.
Katie tapped her former lover on the shoulder. “Got a minute?”
Paul turned, smiling. “For you? Always.”
They moved away from the table hockey game. “What’s up?” Paul asked.
Katie gestured at the friends and family gathered. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me. And Tuck. Look at him.” They both eyed the boy, who was completely entranced with the game he was playing, a semi-delirious grin plastered to his face. “He’s so happy.”
“He deserves it.” Paul seemed subdued. “I hear you’re off tomorrow.”
Katie nodded.
“All packed?”
“Of course I am. Remember who you’re talking to here.”
Paul chuckled. “I forgot how anal retentive you are.”
“Nothing wrong with being organized,” Katie insisted.
“Make sure you don’t run down any more pedestrians, okay?”
“Hey, if someone runs out in front of my car, that’s their problem, not mine.”
Paul responded with the faintest of smiles. Katie could feel her defenses beginning to crack. The longer she stood here like this with him, teasing, flirting, reminiscing, the harder it would be to say good-bye—not just to him, but to everyone.
“I should mingle,” said Katie.
“I guess it’s your duty as guest of honor.”
“Thank you again, Paul,” Katie said, heartfelt. “For this, for everything.”
“Not a problem. How about a friendly hug for old times’ sake?”
“Of course.” Katie stepped into the loose embrace of his arms.
“You’ll keep in touch, right?” he murmured into her hair.
Katie swallowed. “You know we will.” His eyes, his scent, the warmth of his hard body—it was too much. Katie broke contact.
“Take care of yourself, Paul.”
Paul smiled sadly. “You, too, Professor.”
CHAPTER 26
“This place is great.”
Paul nodded, unsure how to react to Tom Corday’s pronouncement as he showed him around the Penalty Box, explaining its inner workings. When they’d met at the wedding in Fallowfield earlier in the year, Paul assumed Katie’s colleague was being polite when he said he’d like to come down to Didsbury and pick his brains. Yet here he was, hanging on Paul’s every word as if owning a bar was the most exciting profession in the world.
“What type of promos do you do?” Tom asked.
Paul noticed his guest couldn’t stop running his hand back and forth across the smooth oak of the bar as if stroking a beloved pet.
“Pretty much the usual,” Paul answered. “On St. Patrick’s Day we did the whole green beer thing, complete with an Irish sing-along. Since it’s Halloween next week, we’ll probably hold a contest for best costume. We also sponsored a local softball team this summer, which was fun.”
Tom looked intrigued. “How does that benefit the bar?”
“They all come in here to drink after the game,” Paul explained with a grin.
“Ah.”
“You should really talk to my bartender, Frank DiNizio. He’s the real heart and soul of the place. Been here for years.”
Tom glanced longingly around the Penalty Box for the umpteenth time. “You must be so proud of this place. I’d love to own a bar like this.”
Paul smiled, covering his discomfort. He’d bought the Penalty Box because it was a sound financial investment, and because he hadn’t known what the hell to do with himself after retiring. Owning a bar seemed as good a choice as any. Tom’s unabashed enthusiasm reminded him how little he’d thought things out after his career blew up; how desperate he was to do something—anything—with the void he perceived his life to be.
He gave Tom a clap on the back. “Who knows? Maybe some day you will own a bar like this.”
“You selling?” Tom ribbed.
Paul chuckled. “If I do, you’ll be the first to know, I promise.”
“Well,” Tom sighed, sliding off his bar stool, “I suppose I should head back. Fallowfield is a bit of a drive.”
“How’s Katie?” Paul asked casually. The question had been on the tip of his tongue all day. Bitsy said she was doing well, but Paul wanted confirmation from someone who saw her regularly.
“She’s hanging in there,” Tom said after a careful pause. “Seems a little stressed. I don’t think she realized what she was getting herself into when she took custody of her nephew. He seems like a great kid, but she’s got a very heavy academic schedule, so between that and taking care of him, she’s on the go nonstop. But you know Katie; she prides herself on being able to juggle it all.”
“Sounds like Katie, all right,” Paul agreed. He could picture her bustling here and there, her book bag permanently slung over right shoulder. “Any idea when her book will be out?”
“Next May, I think. I’m not sure. She’s very excited about that.” Tom looked at him curiously. “You two aren’t in touch?”
“Not really.”
“Well, I won’t pry,” said Tom, jangling his keys in his pocket, “but for what it’s worth, she did tell me to say hello to you when I saw you.”
“Tell her I say hi, too. Tell her—”
He wanted to say more, but stopped.
Katie sat on her porch wrapped in a fleece blanket, hands gripping a steaming mug of sugar-free hot cocoa. Though the October nights had grown chilly, she still liked to come out here to unwind after Tuck went to bed, looking up at the stars or listening to the wind cut through the trees.
Arriving back in town two months ago, she’d had a hard time imagining herself and Tuck settling into a “normal” life, if such a thing existed. Yet here they were, their days busy yet relatively predictable, which was what Tuck needed: routine and stability. He’d had little problem making friends at his new school, and had joined a youth hockey team, proving himself one of the more skilled players.
He seemed well adjusted and happy, which was more than Katie could say for herself.
She enjoyed being back in the classroom, and it was nice to be able to buy
a skim chai latte whenever she felt like it, or go see a foreign film, or listen to live music if the mood struck her. But she missed Didsbury. She missed her mother, with whom she’d formed an actual adult bond. She missed Bitsy and Denise. She spoke with both of them on the phone, but it wasn’t the same. There was something about hanging out at Tabitha’s, analyzing each other’s problems and laughing themselves silly over a plain old cup of joe, that no phone call or email could replace.
And she missed Paul.
Sometimes she caught herself playing “What if.”
What if she hadn’t held him at arm’s length? What if she had allowed herself to succumb to the unknown and see where it led? Would they still be together? Or would she be exactly where she was right now: busy but alone, wondering about the man she drove away because she was too afraid to color outside the lines?
She sighed, sipping her cocoa. She wondered if Paul was at the bar right now, entertaining patrons with salty tales of the NHL. She’d heard from Bitsy that he wasn’t coaching youth hockey this year, which surprised her. She couldn’t imagine him foregoing that kind of hands-on connection with the sport he loved so much. Maybe he was holding out for a coaching position with the AHL team in Hartford.
She closed her eyes a moment, conjuring his face in her mind as she sent her thoughts to him across the silent miles. I’m sorry I made you feel bad about yourself and your decision to return to Didsbury. I hope you find happiness in whatever you do. If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn’t have been so skittish, so scared, so—anal retentive! I would have taken the leap of faith.
She wrapped her blanket tighter around her, imagining her words being carried to him on the wind. Silly, she knew. But she couldn’t help it.
“Your turn to get the door.”
Katie gave Tuck a frosty look even though she knew he was right. All night long the bell had been ringing as little ghouls and goblins collected their Halloween booty. Tuck and his friends had gone out trick-or-treating after school, wanting first dibs on whatever candy there was to be had. That was fine with Katie, who hadn’t wanted him running around at night, possibly getting into trouble.
“I’ll pay you if you get the door,” Katie begged.
Tuck hugged the bowl of popcorn on his lap tight and kept his eyes glued to the TV. “No way. You said that last time. Your turn.”
Katie sighed, hoisting herself off the couch. It was close to nine. Wasn’t that late to still be out trick-or-treating? She picked up the bowl of Halloween candy resting on the coffee table. There wasn’t much left. Too bad, she thought. You snooze, you lose.
Opening the door, she was disheartened to see a large kid standing there in a hockey jersey and a goalie mask, holding a pillow case in one hand and a bloodied hockey stick in the other.
“Trick or treat,” croaked a gravelly voice.
Katie frowned. She disliked teenage trick-or-treaters. They deprived smaller kids of candy. It wasn’t right.
“Let me guess,” she said blandly as she tossed a small bag of M&Ms into the pillowcase. “You’re supposed to be Jason.”
“No.”
“Whatever.” Katie closed the door. She was halfway back to the couch when the doorbell rang again. She hadn’t noticed any other kids walking up the front path to her house, which meant the only one who could possibly be ringing the bell again was Jason. Annoyed, she turned heel and flung the door open.
“Yes?”
“I’ve decided I don’t like this treat. I’d rather play a trick.”
Katie froze. The voice was different. Familiar. This time she noticed what was printed across the front of the hockey jersey. It was the Blades’ logo.
“Paul?”
He laughed delightedly as he removed the goalie mask.
“Oh my God!” Katie leaned against the doorframe for support.
“Can I come in?”
Katie pulled herself together. “Yes, of course.”
Quaking inside, she led him into the living room. Tuck’s screams of delight when he saw who it was threatened to shatter the windows.
“Coach van Dorn!” Tuck leapt up from the couch, throwing his arms around Paul. “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Paul said, dropping his mask, pillowcase and hockey stick so he could embrace the boy back. “I’m trick-or-treating.”
Tuck frowned. “You didn’t come here for that.”
“You’re right. I didn’t.” His gaze fastened on Katie.
Katie flushed. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’m fine.” Paul eyed the couch. “Mind if I sit?”
“Feel free.”
Tuck leaped on to the couch beside him, barely able to contain himself. “Coach, guess what? I’m first-line center for my new hockey team and they’re not as good as the Panthers but it’s fun and guess what? I’m taking a computer class and I was a hockey player for Halloween too and got tons of stuff do you want some Starbursts?”
“I would love some Starbursts in a little while,” Paul said, shooting Katie a sidelong look. “But right now, I’d like to talk to your aunt alone for a few minutes, if that’s okay with you.”
“Totally okay,” Tuck declared, bolting off the couch. He turned to Katie. “Can I play on the computer?”
“Go ahead,” said Katie, who usually limited his computer time. “But only because this is a special occasion.”
“Cool!” Tuck exclaimed, disappearing up the stairs.
Katie turned to Paul. “You do realize he’ll probably hover on the landing and listen to every word we say.”
“That’s okay.” Paul nodded with approval as he glanced around the living room. “Very nice. You have good taste.” His eyes slid to hers. “I think I’ll like living here.”
“Excuse me?”
Paul reached for her hand, holding it tight. The gesture felt pure, preordained. Katie held her breath. “I had an epiphany,” Paul continued.
“Big SAT word.”
“You bet.” His eyes were guileless, filled with such raw emotion Katie almost flinched. “I don’t want to own a bar in Didsbury the rest of my life.”
“I see.” Katie’s chest began to knot. “Do you know what you want to do?”
He raised his hand to caress her cheek. “Not yet,” he confessed softly. “But whatever it is, I want to do it with you. As long as I have you in my future, I don’t need to live in the past.”
“Paul,” she whispered.
“I haven’t sold the bar, but I’ve left it in Frank’s hands for now. I have more than enough money to live on while I figure out what I really want to do. In the meantime, I thought that maybe—if it’s okay with you—I could help you out with Tuck.”
“Okay?” Katie repeated incredulously, choking back tears of joy. She took his face in her hands. “It’s more than okay. Ever since I left Didsbury I’ve been kicking myself for what an uptight jerk I was with you. You had every right to dump me. I was holding back, using Tuck as an excuse because I was afraid if I let myself go, I would fall in love and somehow get sucked back into living in the place I always associated with pain.” She touched her forehead to his as her tears began to fall. “But I don’t feel that way anymore. Now, when I think of Didsbury, I think of you, and my mom, and all the laughs I had with Bitsy and Denise. I think about all the things you said about how it shaped me.”
“But you still don’t want to live there.”
“No.”
“Well, that works out perfectly, then, because neither do I.”
Katie raised her eyes to his. “You know what I want?”
“Tell me.”
“I want to look in your eyes and let you take my breath away, and the next minute want to kill you because you’ve left the toilet seat up. I want to reach across my bed and feel you there, solid, real, mine. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Katie.”
“Hooray!” Tuck came flying down the stairs. He couldn’t stop moving, hopping
excitedly from foot to foot as he grinned at both of them.
“I thought you were playing on your computer,” Katie noted.
“I was,” Tuck insisted, “but I had to go to the bathroom and I heard you talking.”
“I see.” Katie suppressed a laugh. “I guess you heard that Coach van Dorn is moving in with us.”
Tuck nodded fervently. “Maybe you can coach my hockey team,” he said to Paul. “Coach Talbert is a dick.”
“Tuck,” Katie scolded. “Don’t say ‘dick.’ ”
Tuck’s mouth fell open in protest as he pointed at Paul. “He does! He said it in the locker room last year! I remember!”
Katie shot Paul a look of disbelief.
“That’s true, I did,” Paul admitted carefully, “but I probably shouldn’t have.”
“You know what I think?” said Katie, rising from the couch. “I think we need a group hug.”
Both Tuck and Paul groaned.
“Oh, c’mon,” Katie chided.
Tuck said something under his breath and Paul rolled his eyes. But Katie paid no attention, gathering them in a bone-crushing embrace of love and hope. For now, they were a family.
The Penalty Box Page 30