“You do? Something else we have in common.”
The way he said something else in common chased hot and cold prickles up her spine. Here she thought they shared nothing more infatuation—which, according to her caseload of displaced wives, faded with the speed of light. The more time she spent around Garrett, the more she realized he possessed a sensitivity missing in other male acquaintances. For one thing, he really listened to a person.
Sherry imagined them being friends, as well as a couple. A couple. Will you listen to that. She stumbled to a stop and gazed across the park at nothing, shocked that she, of all people, contemplated such a thing. Well, why not?
Garrett leaned in front of her so he could look her in the eye. He traced the back of one finger down her pink cheek. “Before you hop a shooting star and zap another trillion light years away, how about lunch?”
“Sorry.” She blushed, thankful he didn’t probe her errant thoughts. “I, ah... Shall we eat at the mall? Then we’ll be handy to buy the wedding gift and my shoes.”
“I had something more clandestine in mind. Lunch on a lazy riverboat, maybe?”
“Cruises that serve food are overnighters. I’ve never done one, but I’m told visitors book well in advance. Day jaunts are narrated. If you’d rather do that than shop, you can drop me at the mall and pick me up later.”
Garrett curbed his disappointment as he steered her toward his pickup with a hand at the small of her back. “I can’t believe you’ve lived here all your life and have never gone on a dinner cruise. If Keith ever spends a weekend with Carla, you and I should go.” Before he’d made his suggestion, Garrett hadn’t realized how it’d sound. Sherry’s sharp intake of breath told him clearly.
Her heart somersaulted in its rush to accelerate. She’d never gone on a dinner cruise because she’d never met anyone she cared to be confined with for a night of moonlight, champagne and romance. Not until now. Now her blood sang at the prospect. “I’d like that,” was her only admission.
Garrett glanced away, barely trusting himself to nod. As if both shied from what was happening, they broached again the subject of grabbing sandwiches at the mall.
Right after they ate, Sherry led Garrett on a marathon shopping tour. He surprised her again by actively helping choose Emily and Nolan’s wedding gift. And he never once griped about trekking from store to store. Eventually they found the perfect thing—a copper pot to sit on the vintage icebox Emily had refinished.
“You deserve a medal,” Sherry said as he carried their packages to his truck. “I didn’t hear a single complaint. But maybe you’re in shock,” she teased.
“It’s been five years since I shopped with a woman,” he mused. “I can’t believe I’d forgotten how intense an experience it is. After my divorce, my mom decided to help me refurbish, and by the week’s end my boots had holes in their soles. I tend to shop on a need-to-have basis and avoid malls like the plague.”
“You mean your girlfriends never dragged you mall-hopping? That’s un-American.”
He held the passenger door open and gave her a hand up, debating whether or not to tell her that girlfriends had been scarcer than duck’s teeth. He wouldn’t want Sherry to get the idea he was weird or anything. On the other hand, if he insinuated he did things other than shop with his women friends, she would definitely get the wrong picture. So he smiled in a way he hoped said, Don’t ask me to kiss and tell, and closed her car door solidly. They drove to collect Keith in companionable silence.
Sherry expected Keith to be elated after a day with his mom, and chatty. But the boy slid between Sherry and his father, crossed his arms and sat like a lump.
She finally broke the ice. “How was your trip to the Money Museum?”
Keith hiked a shoulder.
“That’s no way to answer a lady, son,” Garrett rebuked gently.
“Crawford ’splained too much. He thinks I’m dumb ’cause I don’t care where money comes from.”
Garrett’s fingers tightened on the wheel. Crawford was a dolt, but Garrett knew from experience that if he said anything to Carla, she’d defend the banker to the nth degree. She’d twist things to make it all Garrett’s fault. He didn’t discipline Keith, or he spoiled the boy and let him run wild. Garrett had heard it before. To make matters worse, now Sherry was tossing him veiled glances, as if she expected him to do something about Crawford. Life had been so much simpler before Carla surfaced again.
Sherry decided Garrett wasn’t going to get involved. “So, Keith,” she said, “what about the phony money? Weren’t the counterfeit bills cool?”
“They were okay. Crawford got super bummed out when I said they all looked alike.”
Garrett scowled. “Where was your mother during all this?”
“She hadda go to the bank to make a big loan.”
The muscles in Garrett’s jaw flexed. Sherry marveled at his control. If it was up to her, she’d go back and have a talk with Carla. The more Sherry chewed on the reality, however, the more she saw that Garrett was caught between a rock and a hard place. He had Carla’s attorney going for his jugular. Just now she held all the advantages. Sherry had witnessed the reverse enough times.
She tried her best to cheer Keith up. “Rags will love having you come home a day early, sport.”
Keith’s spirits perked immediately. “Go faster, Dad. I don’t want Rags to think we left him.”
“He’ll be fine, Keith.” Talk shifted to the dog until they were about a block from home. Suddenly Garrett asked Keith, “Did your mom or Crawford give you a date for your next visit?”
“Mom’s gonna call you before Halloween. Crawford doesn’t approve of Halloween. I wanna go trick-or-treating with Mark. I don’t gotta visit Mom, do I?”
“No. Not on Halloween. Crawford is—”
“Entitled to his opinion,” Sherry inserted. She knew Garrett would regret badmouthing Keith’s stepdad once he stopped to reconsider. “Hey, I thought of a place I think you’d like, Keith. Maybe sometime your mom can take you to see Mark Twain’s boyhood home in Hannibal. It’s fun climbing to the top of Cardiff Hill. And I love the tour of the Tom Sawyer caves. Are you familiar with Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, Keith?”
“Yep. Dad read me the stories. Why don’t we go? Huh, Dad?”
The possibility germinated. “Yeah. How about next weekend?” Garrett sought Sherry’s eyes. “Maybe Sherry’ll invite Mark.” Garrett had a method to his madness. The boys could explore while he got to spend more time with Sherry.
“Are you asking me to go, too?” She wasn’t sure if that was what Garrett meant.
“I’m asking.”
Sherry’s nerves tingled. “I...well, yes, then.” They made plans before parting outside Garrett’s gate.
* * *
THE TRIP TO HANNIBAL ended up being one of the most wonderful dates Sherry’d ever had. Even though she’d suggested the trip to cheer Keith up, it had all the earmarks of a date. Garrett was attentive. He teased, and flattered and bought her souvenirs.
The boys loved the caves where Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher had supposedly been lost. They were decidedly less enthusiastic about the museum.
Garrett had hoped the near-vertical hike up Cardiff Hill would wear the boys out so they’d fall asleep on the way home and he could ask Sherry out again. But the adults were the ones who yawned repeatedly. Keith and Mark sat in the backseat of Sherry’s car, plotting how much loot they’d collect trick-or-treating the following Saturday.
* * *
CLOUDS MOVED IN as Halloween approached. Miraculously the rain held off. At the elder Campbells’ home that night, after the trick-or-treaters returned with pillowcases full of candy, Ben Campbell struck a match to the leaves he’d spent the day raking into a big pile. In spite of thick smoke, the revelers scooted close to the fire to toast hot dogs and marshmallo
ws. Megan, who claimed to be too old for trick-or-treating, told ghost stories guaranteed to spook the boys. An occasional adult was also seen glancing over a shoulder into the darkness beyond the fire.
Pilgrim, Nolan’s yellow Lab, and the Campbells’ old dog, Murphy, frolicked with Rags. All swiped tidbits of hotdog here and there if anyone’s guard dropped.
When at last the fire died, the adults reluctantly called it a day.
Keith scrambled over and hugged Sherry around the neck. “This is the bestest Halloween I’ve ever had. I love you,” he said, fighting a sleepy yawn.
Seated next to Sherry, Emily jabbed Nolan in the ribs.
Sherry saw a telling look pass between them. She also saw Garrett stiffen. Surely he didn’t think she’d set out to win his son’s affections on purpose. After all, he was the one who’d bugged her to come tonight. Frankly, she’d thought Garrett had been angling for more than friendship on their trip to Hannibal. Obviously not. She must be the only one experiencing wild, crazy dreams that tiptoed in at night to disrupt her sleep.
Emily snapped her fingers to jar Sherry from her trance. “I said, if you’re free tomorrow night, could you meet with me? I have an appointment with a singer to choose songs for the wedding. Nolan says it’s up to me. I’d like another opinion.”
“Okay. Give me the address,” Sherry said absently. “Is your church a drive from here?”
Emily gaped. “We’re being married in Nolan’s church. Y-your church,” she stammered. “As a matter of fact, now it’s Garrett and Keith’s church, too.”
Sherry felt sideswiped. She knew, of course, that Emily and the kids had been attending the family church. The church where her parents had exchanged wedding vows. Emily no longer had contact with her former in-laws or their church, so where else would she get married if not here? Still... Sherry didn’t know why, but she’d always assumed she’d be the first Campbell of her generation to walk up that aisle. She acknowledged that it was a silly thought, considering her frequently stated assertions about marriage. And there wasn’t even a groom in the offing!
Nan Campbell reached out to her suddenly pale daughter. “Sherry, are you ill? The hot dogs. Ben...” she said, helplessly imploring her husband.
“I’m fine.” She would be—in a minute.
Nolan, blind to her feelings, teased her. “Not too late to make it a foursome, sis.” He clapped Garrett on the back. “Two for the price of one. Ought to rock the hallowed halls of Wellmont, don’t you think?”
Garrett surged to his feet. He ignored Nolan and thanked Sherry’s folks for including him and Keith in the festivities. Which wasn’t to say that Nolan’s shot in the dark hadn’t set wheels grinding in Garrett’s mind.
Keith fell asleep on the drive home, allowing Garrett far too much time to dwell on Nolan’s remark. He understood how others might assume a relationship had developed between him and Sherilyn. He’d spent a lot of time with her lately.
Or had Nolan been goading his sister just for the sake of goading? Clearly marriage was the last thing on her mind. At his heavy handed hint, she’d looked like someone forced to eat a pickle.
That started Garrett wondering how Sherilyn saw him. Only as someone to help her thumb her nose at those on campus who whispered that she hated men?
All the signs said no.
Maybe she just wanted a short-term romance. If so, he’d been obtuse.
As he put Keith to bed, Garrett couldn’t seem to shake the conviction that if he was smart, he’d forget about Sherry Campbell as anything but a colleague. But questions nagged him all night.
Next morning, Carla unwittingly offered Garrett opportunity to act. She called to request or, rather, demand that he bring Keith to St. Louis the second weekend in November. Crawford’s daughter was coming to town, Carla said. And Crawford’s daughter had a son Keith’s age.
Crawford was a grandpa? Garrett hung up, mulling that over. He didn’t know why he’d thought Crawford had been eternally single when he met Carla. Maybe because he was so strict with Keith. Shouldn’t a grandfather be better attuned to kids?
Garrett climbed into the shower, trying to keep his mind focused on Crawford’s relationship with Keith. Unfortunately last night’s dream intruded. A dream of Sherry and him on a moonlit Mississippi riverboat cruise.
Would she go if he invited her? She ran hot and cold. But that time he’d suggested it, she actually sounded favorable.
It’d be a simple matter to phone and ask her. But dreaming of enticing Sherry into a romantic cruise was far easier than calling her and risking a no. While Keith ate breakfast, Garrett shut himself in his bedroom where he paced in front of the phone. He rehearsed his speech, yanked up the receiver, then dropped it back and sat down for a minute until his heart quit pounding like a jungle drum.
He reminded himself that good old Crawford hadn’t let divorce deter him from pursuing another woman. That did it. Gut churning, head prepared for her refusal, Garrett dialed.
On her end, Sherry listened to his smooth invitation in disbelief. This was Garrett Lock, a man who just last night had turned seven shades of green at the mention of being involved with her.
Correction. That look—as if he’d sucked a lemon—came at the mention of marriage. What he proposed was a dinner cruise on the Ozark Queen. Moonlight, dinner and dancing. At least that was how it sounded.
Sherry feigned a fit of coughing and excused herself to get a drink of water. As she slugged it down, she practiced saying no. It wasn’t working. For goodness’ sake, she was going to accept.
She drew a damp palm over her throat. “Sorry. My toast went down wrong. Two weekends from now, you say?” She cleared her throat. “Um, my calendar is clear.” Did that sound worldly enough?
“It is?” Garrett felt like a dope for doubting. “Fine. Good,” he managed, clamping down on the ambivalent feelings still churning in his stomach.
Sherry twisted the phone cord around and around her finger. Now what? She wound the cord so tightly it cut off her circulation. Then she chastised herself for acting cowardly. Feeling the heat of embarrassment, she decided to fill the silence by asking a question.
She asked in her best counselor’s voice, “How does Keith feel about spending two full days with Crawford?”
Garrett suffered a second stab of guilt. He couldn’t very well admit that he hadn’t informed his son yet. “About how you’d expect,” he mumbled. “He hates leaving Rags.”
“I’m sure my mom will dog-sit. Ah, um, I’d appreciate you not mentioning that I’m going with...that we’re...”
“Hey, what do you take me for?” Garrett was impatient to get off the phone. All he could think was, What if there wasn’t space on the boat after all this? “I, uh, hate to run, but I was just on my way out.”
“Oh, sure. Bye then.”
The minute Sherry disconnected, Garrett dived for the phone book. He didn’t breathe again until the travel agent took his credit-card numbers to confirm passage.
“So that’s that,” he said aloud, after completing the transaction. He managed his first deep breath that didn’t sound like air escaping a slow-punctured tire. He felt as if he’d just done something that would invite gossip. Which was stupid. They were both mature unattached adults, and he’d booked two rooms.
Midweek, Garrett received an administrative memo from the president’s office stating that a contingent from campus had to go to Jefferson City on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of the following week. The purpose: to protest legislative budget cuts. Garrett frowned at a list topped by Sherry’s name. Was she drafted or had she volunteered? Jefferson City was a fair drive. The team wouldn’t be back until late Friday night. Did it mean she’d had second thoughts about their weekend trip?
* * *
“THESE SILLY MARCHES in the capital don’t accomplish anything,” Sherry co
mplained to Angel as she assembled material to keep her classes occupied for the three days she’d be gone. “All we do is spin our wheels.”
“You didn’t volunteer to go?”
“I’d sooner eat worms.”
Angel tapped a finger on the memo that had come to Sherry in the form of a command. “I guess the big man delegated you, then, huh? I notice he’s not on the list.”
“Garrett?” Sherry flushed, realizing she’d almost said he wouldn’t since they had plans for the weekend.
Angel gave her a speculative look as Sherry hefted her briefcase and bag.
Last to board the van, Sherry was surprised to see mostly deans and a vice provost already seated. Who had included her with the bigwigs and why?
Could it be Garrett? Maybe he’d gotten cold feet about the weekend and figured if the committee returned late on Friday she’d opt out.
He didn’t know her if he thought that. She always kept her commitments.
* * *
FRIDAY, WHEN SHE DRAGGED home at midnight, Garrett’s house was dark. She’d accessed her office voice mail before boarding the van home. He’d left a cryptic message offering her a rain check. Oh, he sounded solicitous, but Sherry fancied she also heard a measure of relief in his voice. The jerk. Make her suffer with those pompous fools for three days, would he? All because he didn’t have the guts to renege. Well, he could just tell her face-to-face. She fell into bed anticipating how floored he’d be to discover her, suitcase in hand, leaning against his pickup tomorrow.
If it killed her, she’d get up in time to do her hair and nails. A woman had her pride, after all. He’d never know she’d sprung for new clothes. She had entertained notions of making Dr. Lock’s jaw drop with the slinky purple dress she’d purchased for the dinner cruise.
Sherry punched her pillow. She should have saved her money.
* * *
AT THE BREAK OF DAWN, Keith shuffled to the pickup ahead of Garrett. First to spot Sherry, he ran to her and enveloped her in a hug. “I heard Dad tell your mom you went to Jefferson City. She’s keeping Rags ’cause Dad’s gonna ride on a boat this weekend.” He hopped around and trampled on Sherry’s toes. “I don’t wanna visit Mom and Crawford. If you’n Dad are goin’ on a boat, can I go, too? Please,” he implored.
The Boss Next Door (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 20