Lock, Stock, and Over a Barrel

by Melody Carlson

  “I’ve heard your explanations before, Ryan. They didn’t work then. They will not work now. The bottom line is that you led me to believe you were single. But you were married with two sons. That was wrong. And that was the end of it. There is nothing more to be said.”

  “Yes, there is.” He looked intently at her. “I’m not married anymore. Belinda and I are divorced. And more important, I still love you, Daphne. I never quit loving you.”

  Once again, she felt as if the floor had been pulled out from under her. To steady herself she clung to the arms of the chair and just stared at him.

  “I know I don’t deserve for you to give me the time of day,” he continued. “But you can’t blame me for trying. That year spent with you in New York, it was the best year of my life. And I know it was good for you too. And I hate how it ended. My marriage truly was over long before then. I just wish I’d gotten the divorce before I ever met you.”

  “But you had young children.”

  He nodded sadly. “My boys, Clark and Jackson, they were the only reason I didn’t leave Belinda a long time ago. And they’re the reasons I went back and tried my best to make the marriage work. I made Belinda go with me to counseling. And there were a couple of good years when I thought we were going to make it. But then Belinda went back to her old ways . . . and I suppose I went back to mine. We got divorced three years ago. Mutually.”

  “Oh.” She sighed. “Well, I’m sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be sorry. It was for the best. Belinda remarried shortly afterward. And I have to admit he’s a good guy. And they’re a better match. Even the boys like him . . . well, sort of. But they’re teenagers, they don’t like much of anything.”

  Despite her resolve, Daphne felt her heart softening toward him.

  “I’d been meaning to go out to New York, ever since the divorce became final. But then I thought I should give it some time. I thought you might respect that more. And then there was the job, and I was trying to stick around for the boys.”

  “How old are they now?”

  “Jackson is eighteen, just graduated high school and will start college this fall. Clark is sixteen and thinks he knows everything.”

  She had imagined they were teens, but younger somehow.

  “I know I’ve overwhelmed you,” he said. “I should probably just go.”

  She bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. Part of her wished he’d leave and never come back, but another part of her . . . was unsure.

  “I mostly wanted to see how you were doing. I flew out to New York last week. Apparently I had just missed you.” He shook his head. “Story of my life.”

  “I was out there to pack things up. I’ve moved back here permanently.”

  “I know. I talked to Fiona at The Times. She filled me in and gave me your address. I hope you don’t mind.”

  She shrugged.

  “Mostly I want to know if you’re doing okay, Daphne. Are you happy? I know I messed up badly in New York. But I never meant to hurt you. You were the last person in the world I wanted to hurt. I hope you can believe that.”

  She looked down at her lap. Why was he doing this? Why was he here?

  “I always thought I was going to get it all sorted out,” he continued, “and that one day you were going to marry me and we would live happily ever after. But I suppose I was living in a delusion back then. I can see now that I was immature and selfish. I can admit to wanting you so badly that I was willing to do anything to keep you. I knew if I confessed to you that I was married, it would be over. So I just allowed it to keep going. I wanted to keep it going for as long as I could . . .” His voice faded like he was giving up on her.

  She looked back up to see his head hanging down and his hands clasped together. So unlike the vibrant guy she remembered, the one who was always on top of the world. This looked like a defeated man, and despite herself, she felt sympathy. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I have forgiven you. Sometimes I even pray for you and your family.”

  He looked up hopefully. “Really? You do that?”

  She just nodded.

  “That means so much to me, Daphne. If the only thing I can accomplish with this visit is to secure your forgiveness, it’s completely worth it.”

  “So that’s why you came?”

  He nodded.

  “Then you have it, Ryan. And I wish you the best for the rest of your life.”

  He gave her a half smile. “I don’t think you mean that.”

  “I do mean it.”

  “No . . . if you meant that—if you really wished me the best—you would be saying you wished we could be together.” He gave her a sad smile. “But I know that’s not what you mean.” He stood up slowly. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your day.”

  She stood too, uncertain of how to act. “It’s okay. I was done with work anyway.”

  “Work?” He looked curious. “What kind of work are you doing?”

  “Writing.”

  “That’s great. What are you writing?”

  “Oh, this and that. I hope to start a novel soon.”

  “Lucky you.” He shook his head. “I’ve got a novel started, but I never seem to find the time to finish it.”

  Just like that they were talking about writing—in the same way they used to do. Feeling off guard and slightly guilty for her earlier hostility toward him, she knew she should show him a smidgen of hospitality—before she sent him packing. So she invited him into the kitchen for something to drink. Then something odd happened. They sat across from each other at the little kitchen table and, companionably sipping iced tea, they talked and talked and talked.

  “Oh, Daphne.” He gazed intently at her. “Do you know how much I’ve missed this? How much I’ve missed you? Missed us?”

  She swallowed hard.

  “What I would give to have this back?”

  “I, uh, I don’t know.” She glanced over at the clock. “My, it’s late. I had no idea.”

  He looked at his own watch. “How about if I take you to dinner?” he asked hopefully. “For old times’ sake. And then I promise I’ll go and never darken your doorstep again. Okay?”

  Her stomach rumbled and she reluctantly agreed. “I guess that’d be okay.”

  She went upstairs to freshen up, and before long he was driving her through town in a nondescript rental car. She decided The Zeppelin was the safest bet. Being that it was late, she hoped to avoid running into anyone she knew. She wasn’t even sure why that mattered. Perhaps it was because Ryan was from what she considered a dark part of her past, something she preferred to remain hidden.

  Their conversation continued on throughout dinner, and by the time he was driving her home, Daphne felt relaxed and very nearly happy. Of course, that in itself was disturbing. “Please, don’t walk me to the door,” she said as he started to get out of the car. “This wasn’t a date and I don’t want to remember it as one.”

  He nodded somberly. “All right. I can respect that.”

  “Thanks.” She released a timid smile.

  He put his hand on her arm as she was getting out. “It’s just so amazing to see you again. Almost as if nothing has changed.”

  She bit her lip as she pulled away. “But a lot has changed.”

  “You haven’t changed, Daphne. You’re still sweet and good and wonderful.”

  She knew she was softening, but was determined to remain strong. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was good to see you today, Ryan. And I do wish you well.”

  His face lit up. “Do you know, this was the best day I’ve had in years . . . maybe since New York. Thank you for allowing me to crash your life like this, Daphne.”

  She tipped her head, then waved and shut the door. Hurrying up toward the house, she never looked back. But af
ter the door was closed and locked, she broke down into inexplicable tears.

  As Daphne went through the house turning off the lights, locking the doors, making sure the cats’ water bowl was freshened, she continued to cry. As she went upstairs, she was still crying. Were these tears of relief? Tears of regret? Or what? She honestly did not know. But she let herself cry until her tears subsided . . . and then she fell asleep.

  To her relief, she didn’t feel like crying in the morning. But she did feel a little wrung out. Even so, she forced herself to go to work on the column. To her delight, Jake had e-mailed her back, saying that he thought she’d done a great job on her first column and encouraging her to go for it.

  Feeling bolstered by his praise, she jumped right in, and by four o’clock, she had written three more Dear Daphne responses, all of which she e-mailed to Jake. Thankfully, the column only ran biweekly, and if every piece she’d written was acceptable, that would’ve been a whole week’s worth of work in just two days.

  As she puttered around that evening, she couldn’t help but notice how big and quiet the house seemed. Was it because last night Ryan had been here, filling up the space with conversation and laughter? As she made herself a can of soup for dinner, she wondered about Aunt Dee . . . and all the nights she must’ve spent alone here. Hadn’t she been lonely too? Perhaps that was why she had been so insistent that Daphne should marry.

  On Thursday morning, Daphne was busily getting the house ready for the housewarming, but it was Mick who pointed out that her front porch wasn’t very inviting. “We could put some potted plants here.” He pointed to either side of the steps. “But you still need some chairs up there.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.” She peered at the barren-looking porch. “Do you think wicker would look nice?”

  “Don’t know why not. But I reckon you can’t get many chairs into that little car of yours. Maybe you should talk me into taking you in my truck.” He grinned. “You buy me lunch and I’ll be your helper for the afternoon.”

  “It’s a deal!”

  After lunch at the diner, they went out to the nursery where he helped her pick out some large pots and plants for the porch. “Can I give you a hand?” Julianne asked as they were loading the plants onto the nursery wagon.

  “Sure,” Mick told her. “Can you get these transferred into those two pots over there?” He pointed to the ones they’d selected. “Daphne needs them today.”

  As Julianne was wheeling away the cart, Mick invited Daphne to go with him to the barn. “I’m just starting something new in there. It’s not really open to customers yet, but I’ll let you have a sneak preview, if you’d like.”

  “Sure. I haven’t been in the barn since I was little.” She tried not to remember the kittens.

  “I thought this would expand my landscaping business,” he said as he slid the door open. “To offer a small selection of outdoor furnishings.” He led her inside where some tables and chairs and umbrellas were strewn about. “As you can see, it’s not set up yet. But we hope to get it nicely arranged with plants and whatnot.” He waved his hand. “I don’t have any real wicker, but I’ve got some of the new vinyl pieces that look like wicker and are nearly indestructible. Plus they’re made from recycled materials.”

  “I’d love to see them.”

  She had picked out several chairs, including a rocker and several side tables. “This will be a good start,” she told him as they both picked up a chair and carried it out to his truck. By the time they got all the pieces loaded, Julianne was wheeling back the freshly potted plants and they looked fabulous.

  “Those are beautiful,” Daphne told Julianne.

  Julianne beamed. “I added a few extras, to fluff out the pots. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” Daphne thanked her. “And since you’ve been so helpful, I’d like to invite you to my housewarming tonight. I know it’s late notice, but—”

  “I’d love to come,” Julianne assured her. “Maybe I can get Mick to give me a lift.” She gently elbowed him. “Since my scooter’s not that safe at night.”

  He nodded with a hard-to-read expression. “Sure, I’m happy to.”

  To Daphne’s relief it was only three by the time she and Mick started unloading the outdoor furniture and potted plants. If she stayed on task, she would still have sufficient time to complete her housewarming to-do list. She was just reaching for an end table when a certain nondescript rental car pulled up in front of her house. Just the same, she tried not to act surprised or even irritated when Ryan came over to see what they were doing.

  “Need a hand with that?” he offered as he took the table from her.

  She quickly introduced the men, but as Ryan helped them to unload and arrange the items on the porch, Mick tossed her a curious glance. After they’d finished transforming the empty porch to a space that was both attractive and inviting, she asked if they wanted to test it out while she got them all some cold drinks. Returning with iced tea and lemonade, she set the tray on a table, then sat down in the rocker and sighed.

  “This is nice,” she proclaimed as she rocked and sipped. “Thank you, Mick, for all your help.” She glanced at Ryan who seemed to be waiting. “And thank you too.”

  “So Ryan tells me you and he go way back,” Mick said to Daphne.

  “That’s right,” Ryan said before she could answer. “Daphne and I met at The Times, right after I went to work there. We dated about a year. Isn’t that right, Daphne?”

  She took a slow sip, then nodded. “Sounds about right. But it was a long time ago. Our paths haven’t crossed since then. And it’s been more than ten years.”

  “So what brings you to Appleton now?” Mick asked Ryan.

  Ryan winked at her. “Daphne here.”

  “Let me get this straight. You come to Appleton to see a girl you dated more’n a decade ago?” Mick sounded slightly suspicious now.

  “Hey, I thought it was about time.” Ryan turned to Daphne with longing in his eyes. “It’d been way too long. But I already told you all about that last night.”

  Daphne stifled the urge to pour her iced tea over Ryan’s head.

  “Aha,” Mick said triumphantly. “So you admit it, then. You’re trying to reignite the old flame, are you?”

  “Would you blame me, if I was?” Ryan’s eyes were still locked on Daphne.

  “Speaking of flames, it’s getting entirely too warm out here for me.” She stood suddenly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I still have a lot to do to get ready for tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Ryan asked eagerly.

  “Never mind.” Daphne quietly told him. Then hoping to distract him, she thanked Mick again, perhaps even gushing a little. “Thanks to your help, this porch looks better than ever. And I think I’d like to get another potted plant or two.” She waved as she went inside. “Later.”

  Despite her attempt to maintain a polite front, she was glad to escape both of them. Ryan’s assumptions were just plain aggravating. But Mick encouraging him like that, well, that was too much!

  Besides, she didn’t have time to sit making small talk with them. There was much to do before the housewarming tonight. She wanted to thoroughly clean the kitchen and get the dining room set up for serving as well as make sure the downstairs bath was guest ready. And after that, she still needed to shower and dress and do something with her wildly curling hair. She didn’t have time for these juvenile games.

  Chapter 20

  To Daphne’s irritation, Ryan not only crashed her housewarming, he arrived twenty minutes early—while she was still taming her curly hair.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” He handed her a bouquet of red roses.

  Very subtle, she thought as she took them.

  “But you were so busy this afternoon.
And Mick extended the invitation to me. Nice guy, that Mick.”

  Daphne was dumbstruck as she looked around the house, trying to decide what to do with the flamboyant bouquet. “Olivia said to put them on the marble-topped table,” he told her.

  “Did she really?” Daphne narrowed her eyes.

  He grinned. “Nice gal, that Olivia. Although she did try to talk me out of the roses.” He frowned. “Not sure why.”

  Daphne removed the vase of peonies, which were actually looking a bit faded now, plunking the vase of roses in its place. Okay, it did look elegant there on the marble table. But a bit overly formal. Not to mention presumptuous.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to finish getting ready,” she said stiffly. Carrying the peonies upstairs, she set them on her bureau and smiled at the results. Very pretty. Then she looked at her wild mop of hair, which she had been attempting to straighten out. Not so pretty. As she wrestled with the smoothing iron, the same question rolled around and around in her head. What is he doing here?

  It was nearly seven when she went downstairs, where Ryan was relaxing in the club chair in the front room, his feet on the ottoman like he thought he was king of the castle.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she hurried past. “I need to speak to the caterer. Just make yourself at home.” She hoped he wouldn’t miss the irony there.

  But Ryan not only made himself at home, he decided to make himself into the host as he proceeded to answer the door for her, greeting her guests and introducing himself before she could get to them. First he let in Dad and Karen, which would require some explaining on her part as she watched Dad looking curiously at her, wondering what was up with his daughter. Karen, unaware of the awkwardness, simply chatted congenially with Ryan.

  Next came Jake and Jenna and Mattie, and once again Ryan beat her to the door. Daphne barely made it to the foyer in time to see that Jake seemed very interested in Ryan as he inquired his whereabouts and job status. However, Jake handed the gorgeous bouquet of tiger lilies directly to her.

  “These are lovely,” she told him. “I love tiger lilies.”