by Gail, Allie
“All the way in Atlanta? Jeez. Guess I won’t be coming after all. I have to work Monday.” It’s funny – most people complain about Monday because it’s the start of a brand new work week. I, on the other hand, love Mondays. Of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that I get to see Brad. I’m thinking of biting the bullet and asking him out. If I wait for him to make the first move, our first date is liable to be bingo at the senior center.
“You don’t even like murder mysteries,” she reminds me with a smile.
“I could still be there for moral support!”
“I appreciate that. It’s too far for you to drive just for that, though.”
“Atlanta, hm?” This gives me an idea. “Since you’re already going that far north, it might be worthwhile to make a little side trip. Like to Tennessee maybe? I hear there are lots of fun, touristy things to do there.”
Her eyes cut sideways, telling me with one look that she’s got my number. “Like your brother?”
“Well, I’ve never thought of him as touristy before, but you could get him a pair of plaid Bermuda shorts and one of those big ol’ cameras if that’s what revs your engine.” I grin innocently.
“You are an evil little snot. Are you sure you two aren’t biologically related? Because you’re so much alike it’s scary.”
“Hey, don’t lump me in the same gene pool with that!” We’ve reached the public access entrance, and our feet clomp along the wooden planks of the walkway leading down to the beach. “Actually, I shouldn’t say that. His mom is one of the sweetest ladies in the world. I couldn’t have handpicked a better stepmother than Louise. And she makes my dad happy, so…”
“How come you’re always bitching about Shane and calling him names? Is he really that bad?” She gives me a curious look, and I notice in the moonlight that her eyes are slightly glassy from the tequila. Good – maybe it’ll loosen her tongue.
“No, of course not,” I admit. “I just like giving him a hard time. See, I was an only child when I was little, so it’s just fun for me now that I have someone to pick on. But all kidding aside, being totally serious here, Shane is a good person with a heart of gold. And I’m not just saying that to try and get you guys together. He’s done a lot for me. Way more than I deserve.”
We slow down to look around as we step off the boardwalk into the sand. It doesn’t look all that different, except that the sugar-white shoreline is now littered with ocean debris. Mostly just stringy brown seaweed and broken bits of shells. In the distance I can make out the hulking outline of a bulldozer parked on the roadside, left behind by the beach cleanup crew.
In front of us, the full moon reflects off the dark water in a rippling path of glowing white.
When I was a little girl, I used to believe that if I followed that pathway over the sea, at the end I would find where the mermaids lived.
“Come on.” Melanie shuffles her way through the deep sand toward a row of wooden rental chairs, and I plod along after her. We pick out two chairs and make ourselves comfortable. No one is here to solicit them after dark, so at night they’re up for grabs.
Pulling my knees up to my chin, I wrap my arms around them and wait to see if she picks up the conversation or changes the subject again.
“Are you talking about him buying the house here? Is that what you meant when you said he’s done a lot for you?”
I hide a smile behind my knees. “That’s one thing, yeah, but it wasn’t even what I was thinking of. There was this one time – well, back up some, let me start out by saying that when our parents first got married, I was what you might call a little overindulged.”
“You mean you were a spoiled brat.”
“I preferred to see myself as a daddy’s girl but yeah, spoiled brat is pretty accurate. Anyway, I remember this one thing that happened when I was fifteen. Shane was home from college for the weekend and I was trying to look like Miss Big Shot and everything, so I show him this joint I bought off some guy at the movie theater. I guess I thought it would impress him or something, I don’t know. Anyway, he doesn’t really say much about it and later that night I go to my friend Alicia’s house because her parents are out of town and we can blaze up, right? Well, neither of us had ever smoked pot before so we didn’t know what it was supposed to smell like, but we did notice it stunk really bad. Like, really bad. But we smoked it anyway and pretended we were all high and stuff, even though it really didn’t do a thing for us.
“So later that night I get home and Shane asks me whether I still have that joint. And he’s smiling. I tell him no, I already smoked it and it was awesome. So then he starts laughing hard, I’m talking he’s rolling on the floor and he can’t even breathe, he’s laughing so hard. And I can’t figure out what he thinks is so damn funny.”
I shake my head and grimace at the memory. “Apparently at some point he had taken the joint out of my purse, unrolled it and replaced the pot with some dried grass and dog poop from the neighbor’s German Shepherd. Yeah. That’s right. He made me smoke dog crap. And let me tell you, I don’t recommend it.”
Melanie is reclined against the wooden chair, both hands folded across her stomach as she laughs until tears roll down her cheeks. “Oh, God…you smoked a turd…you’re a turd blazer…that is so gross…”
“Yeah, laugh it up.” Hm. On second thought, maybe this wasn’t the best story to extol the virtues of my wayward stepbrother. “Um…I guess my point is, I was highly pissed off at the time, but now I know he just did it to keep me out of trouble. And to teach me a lesson. And I have to appreciate him for that.”
“Are you sure he didn’t just do it for the entertainment factor? Because I gotta tell you, that is priceless!”
By now I’m laughing uncontrollably as well. It is pretty funny. “I don’t know. You could be right. I mean, he did give me an Oreo with toothpaste in it once.”
“He was probably trying to freshen your breath after you got through inhaling doo-doo!”
“It tasted…so nasty!” I gasp between giggles. “And here we were…me and Alicia…both of us pretending like it was the best thing ever!”
“Mmm…yummy! Fresh fecals!”
We’re both in such loud hysterics, a couple walking past turns and cranes their necks to see what is going on.
“Ow…ow…my ribs hurt,” she whimpers, wiping her eyes.
“That’s what you get for laughing at me!”
“I bet you never smoked pot again after that, did you?”
“No. As a matter of fact, I didn’t. So, see? He did a good thing after all.”
“Yeah, if you say so!”
I scoop up a handful of sand and sift through it aimlessly. “Are you ever gonna answer my question?”
“What question was that?”
“Do you like him or what?”
“Do I like who?”
“Me-la-niiie!”
“Okay, okay,” she chuckles. “Yes. I like him. Satisfied now?”
“On a scale of one to ten, how much?”
“Let’s just say it’s more than five and less than…eleven.”
“So you’re going to be seeing each other again soon?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
“You hope so? What do you mean, you hope so? You don’t sit around hoping – you get in a car and you go. That’s how you make things happen.”
“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I would look desperate, that’s why not!”
“Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move.”
“I doubt it. That doesn’t sound like Shane.” Fiddling with one of her shoelaces, Melanie looks over at me with a sheepish expression. “I may have kinda told him I wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship. What am I supposed to say now?”
“That you changed your mind. Duh. And for the love of Pete, why would you say something like that in the first place?”
“I don’t know. I’m an idio
t?”
Oh, hell’s bells. I can see I’m going to have to break out the big guns here. My next move is a dirty one. So dirty I’d be ashamed of myself if I had a conscience.
Good thing I don’t, right?
I gaze at her earnestly, pretending to be all serious. “Look. I wasn’t gonna say anything. But I don’t think I’d waste too much time if I were you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Has Shane ever mentioned someone by the name of Audrey?”
“Audrey…his assistant?”
“Mm-hm. That’s the one.” I say nothing else, hoping to rouse her curiosity. She takes the bait so fast it’s almost funny.
“What about her?”
“To start with, she looks like a Victoria’s Secret mannequin sprang to life and put on heels and a lab coat. You know the type. Perfect hair, perfect body, perfect nails, perfect fake tits. And from what I’ve heard, she’s newly divorced and looking to play the field. Which wouldn’t be an issue except she’s got her sights set on my brother. Need I say more?”
“Crap. Crap, crap, crap.” Biting her bottom lip, Melanie shoots me a worried look. “You think he’s got something going with her?”
I brush aside the prickle of guilt and remind myself that I’m not doing this to be mean. “Not yet, no, but let me tell you, that woman does not take no for an answer. I’ve met her. She has the manipulative personality of a grade A bitch who doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants. And I’ve seen it in her eyes. The way she looks at him. She wants Shane.”
I can practically see the wheels turning in poor Melanie’s head as she pieces all this together. I feel like such a shit. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but dammit, if this gets her motivated then it’ll end up being worth it.
Avoiding my gaze, she concentrates on digging the toe of one of her sneakers deep into the sand. “Do you think he wants her?”
“Not particularly, no. But trust me. A woman like that can be very persuasive.”
We both grow quiet as a middle-aged man in biker shorts goes jogging past us. He gives us a quick glance, acting all aloof, but he’s not fooling anyone. You just can’t trust a guy who wears shorts so tight you can see the outline of his frank and beans.
Leaning back in the chair, I close my eyes and listen to the waves as they gently roll onshore. There’s never been a more peaceful sound than this. Someone should patent it as a cure for insomnia. You can’t listen to this and not melt into complete tranquility.
Beside me, Melanie says softly, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think Shane’s the type to cheat?”
Without opening my eyes, I shake my head. “No. Not at all. He’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever known. But…it wouldn’t exactly be cheating, would it? I mean, you did say you told him you weren’t interested in a relationship. Didn’t you?”
She gives no response. But it doesn’t matter. My work here is done.
I have a hunch that when she leaves Atlanta, she’ll be heading north instead of south.
~ Chapter Twenty-Seven ~
There it is.
My heart lurches anxiously and I suck in a deep breath, releasing a sigh that’s one part relief and two parts anticipation.
Finally. I’m here. I made it.
Coming up just ahead on the left, I can make out the sign for Woodview Animal Hospital. Framed in green, the background is beige with the name done in the same deep hunter green as the truss. Underneath, a message is spelled out in interchangeable plastic letters: Neutering your pet makes him less nuts.
Something tells me Fido wouldn’t see it that way.
My heart skips into a pounding rhythm as I turn on the left blinker and pull into the parking lot of 2508 Woodview Drive. It wasn’t all that hard to find once I located downtown Franklin. From what I’ve seen so far, it looks like a charming little town. Main Street in particular was very quaint and scenic. I imagine once the leaves start changing, which should be soon, it’ll look just like a Thomas Kinkade painting. I can see why Shane chose this place to call his home.
I find a parking spot, all the while trying to pretend that the familiar black Tahoe didn’t catch my eye instantly. He’s here. I’ve got butterflies in my stomach with the confirmation. He’s right inside, mere steps away. Once I walk through that door I'll be seeing him again. And then I’ll know, by the initial look on his face, whether or not I’ve made a terrible mistake.
I’m on pins and needles, just thinking about how he’ll react. No doubt he’ll be surprised, but will it be in a good way? For the millionth time, I second-guess my decision not to call ahead. Was that the wrong thing to do? I really should have given him a heads up that I was coming. What if he isn’t happy to see me? What if – uh, my stomach clenches at the thought – what if he has plans with someone else tonight? I know it’s a weeknight, but still…
Spitting my cinnamon Trident into a crumpled gas receipt, I yank down the sun visor and check my reflection in the mirror. I look presentable enough I guess, for someone who drove four straight hours from Atlanta after sleeping for only three. The room my agent booked for me was nice and the hotel bed soft and clean, but it’s always hard to sleep in a strange place. Especially when you can’t switch your mind off long enough to unwind.
I kept telling myself that going to see Shane was merely a possibility. Just something I was considering doing – nothing definite. It was a prospect and as yet undecided.
Oh, bull hockey. Let’s face it, I knew all along which direction I’d be heading after checkout. Why else did I have MapQuest directions to Franklin, Tennessee printed out, ready and waiting in my car? Why else did I pack extra clothes? Not to mention all the time I spent fussing with my hair this morning.
And for what other reason am I wearing this eye-catching new emerald top with the cut-out shoulders?
Shane isn’t the only one I’ll be seeing. She’ll more than likely be there, too. This Audrey slut – er, I mean person. I haven’t even met her and already I dislike her intensely. I almost wish Leah hadn’t told me all that stuff. Ever since she filled me in, I haven’t been able to think about anything else. Even yesterday, at Barnes and Noble. Sitting there at my table, smiling while passing out free bookmarks, signing copies of my books while trying to engage in friendly conversation…I would find my thoughts drifting to him. To them. Together.
What a sickening image.
The good news is, I didn’t have an anxiety attack. Didn’t even come close. Maybe because I was too busy for the possibility to occur to me. Or maybe because I had my mind occupied with other, more important things.
It’s not like I haven’t talked to him. I called him back after Leah and I returned from the beach, just to tell him she was spending the night. And we spent hours chatting on the phone over the weekend. We covered just about everything under the sun. Except for two little details. First, I didn’t bring up my trip to Atlanta. And second, I didn’t tell him what his sister said. As for him, he never mentioned Audrey once. You’d think I would be reassured by that.
Well, I’m not.
Not even a little bit.
I step out of the car just as a the glass door swings open and a woman comes out with what looks like a bear on a leash. It’s not, of course – it’s just a Saint Bernard. But if you ask me, this dog looks like Cujo on steroids. For crying out loud, what is Shane doing to these animals? Giving them growth hormones? Yikes.
Out of my peripheral vision, I see the woman nod a greeting as we pass each other on the sidewalk. I smile and say hello while maintaining a safe distance, and without taking my eyes off Cujo. Because he’s looking at me and licking his chops like I’m a marinated piece of prime rib on a skewer.
Pulling the door open, I hurry into the clinic before Bigfoot-on-a-leash decides he’s hungry for Florida cuisine. Just inside, there is a spacious waiting room with three people who glance up at me indifferently. A woman with a cat carrier by her side, an
other woman with a dachshund in her lap, and a man whose beagle is sprawled out on the floor at his feet. It looks up just long enough to give me a rather unenthusiastic woof.
To my right is the reception desk. There are only two people behind it. No sign of Shane anywhere. No sign of the infamous Audrey, either. All I see is one redheaded guy who looks to be barely out of high school, and a petite little woman of about sixty with ash blonde hair in a short pixie cut.
The boy doesn’t even look up from the computer screen he’s glued to. The woman, however, peers at me pleasantly over glasses that seem way too large for her small face. The corners of her pale blue eyes crinkle as she smiles brightly.
“Good afternoon, sugar! How are you? And who did we bring in today?”
Momentarily confused, I give her a blank look. “Who did I – oh. Nobody. I’m sorry, I don’t have an appointment or anything.”
“Did you need to make one? We had a cancellation this afternoon if you can come back at three-thirty. Is it an emergency?”
“No, nothing like that. Thank you. Actually, I was just hoping to speak to Sha– um, Dr. Becker for a minute. If he’s not too busy. I can wait.”
“Of course, honey. Who should I tell him is here?”
I open my mouth to give her my name, but whatever I was going to say is forgotten when two men suddenly appear from around a corner. They are deeply engrossed in conversation. And one of them…
One of them is Shane. So familiar and yet so paradoxically unfamiliar in this strange environment. His long hair is tied back in the ponytail I’m used to seeing, but a buttoned-up white lab coat grazes the thighs of his faded jeans. A yellow and white cat is cradled in one of his arms, his free hand casually scratching the top of its furry head while the feline eyes narrow in bliss. Oh dear God, he is even more captivating than I remember. And I could have sworn I had memorized every inch of that beautiful man.
I’ve never been so thrilled to see anyone in my life.
And in that instant, I know for certain that I am hopelessly and infallibly in love with Shane Becker.
Their conversation over, he turns his attention from the other man to say to the woman at the desk, “Could you please take Percival and trim his claws for…”