Actions Speak Louder

by Rosemarie Naramore

  The woman shook her head vigorously. “Well, regardless, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want it.”

  “As I told you before, I can’t refund your money.”

  “Well, I’d like a store credit then,” she said angrily.

  Marcia simply shook her head, relieved the woman had already paid for the paint. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I was very clear to you when you placed the order that since it is a special order, I cannot take it back or make other accommodations for you.”

  The woman glared at her for several long seconds, turned, and huffed out of the store, leaving a gallon of the paint behind. “Should I go after her?” Angie asked, shooting daggers at the now closed door.

  Marcia shook her head. “No, I’m sure she’ll be back.”

  Angie stood silently for a moment, but finally heaved a breath. “Okay, I’m calmer,” she declared, “and I’m sorry to have interrupted you. She just wouldn’t leave without speaking to you.”

  “It’s okay,” she assured her. “Ethan and I were about done for the afternoon anyway.”

  “Did you get much accomplished?” she asked with interest.

  “Yes, we did. We got quite a bit of the drywall hung.”

  “Do any lip locking?” Angie queried, and Marcia gave her an alarmed glance. “No!”

  Angie looked deflated. “Good grief, Marcia. You have noticed that Ethan is an exquisite example of rough and rugged masculinity, right?”

  “I haven’t noticed anything,” she lied, as she headed for the back of the store.

  “Well, then you need glasses!” Angie called to her retreating figure.

  Eager to put distance between herself and her assistant, Marcia ducked into the backroom storage area and began counting an order of paint brushes that had been delivered that morning.

  “Like you’re going to get away from me that easy,” Angie announced a moment later.

  Marcia hurried out of the storeroom, but paused when she reached the sales floor. “Wait a minute,” she huffed. “I’m the boss. Why am I running from you?”

  “Why are you running from Ethan?” Angie asked pointedly, suddenly serious.

  Marcia avoided eye contact with her friend for several seconds, as she gathered her thoughts. Why was she running from Ethan? Was Angie suggesting that Ethan was chasing her? Hardly. Besides, she’d just spent several hours with him.

  She turned her attention back to Angie, ready to nip any assumptions in the bud, post haste. To her surprise, Angie grabbed her arm and hauled her to the front window. “Look!” she commanded under her breath.

  “What are we looking at?” Marcia asked confusedly.

  Angie directed her to Collette, who was walking past the store with Drew. Marcia had yet to meet the young man, but noted he had a nice face presently creased in a smile. Collette, beside him, had her head tipped back and was laughing delightedly at something he had just said.

  “Watch!” Angie commanded.

  “What am I…?”

  “Just watch!”

  Soon the young couple came to the end of the street and stopped at the crosswalk.

  “What are…?” Marcia began.

  “Watch!” Angie insisted again.

  “Okay,” Marcia murmured with chagrin, and then understood what she was directing her to look at. As the young couple was about to cross the street, Drew gently reached for Collette’s hand and held her back slightly as he stepped forward to assure it was safe to cross. Once he saw it was clear, he ushered her across the street, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of danger.

  “He’s a good boy,” Angie said with a sigh. “Nothing like that Chad kid. Did you see what he just did? He made sure Collette was safe.” She laughed self-consciously. “I know it was a small gesture, but Marcia, it’s the little things like that that show a man’s character. When Drew picks Collette up at the house, he always comes to the door. That other kid always pulled up to the front of the house, stayed in the car, and texted her to come out. He’d drive off before she even had time to buckle her seat belt.”

  Angie sighed, watching after the young couple. She turned to Marcia. “A mother wants her daughter to be cherished. She wants her to find a young man who will put her needs before his own.” She shook her head, waving off her own words. “Not that I’m suggesting Collette is anywhere near old enough to find her life partner, but…” She sighed again. “When she does, I want to know he loves her—really loves her.”

  Marcia nodded. “I understand.”

  Angie pinned her with a look. “Do you? After your experience with Jay, I think you’re vision is clouded, so to speak.”

  She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  Angie smiled tentatively. “Jay did a number on you—on your self-esteem. My fear is that if you encounter a good man—and I think you have, if truth be told—you may not recognize him.”

  “I…” she began, but hesitated. Maybe Angie was right. She knew her friend was referring to Ethan. She stood silently for a moment, processing. Angie pointed out that Drew showed his affection for Collette in the little gestures, rather than grand, sweeping gestures. Jay hadn’t bothered with either kind, but Ethan…

  She couldn’t help remembering him buying the paint, in order to alleviate her burden. He hadn’t told her about the gesture, but instead, she’d found out from her employee. He continued to balk at her insistence that she pay off her debt by working for him.

  As she had worked alongside him earlier today, she had been aware of his constant looks in her direction—about his insistence that he shoulder any heavy loads. He was so deferential to her, seemingly afraid she might hurt herself—but it didn’t feel like condescension or a belief on his part that she wasn’t capable—it felt more like…care and concern for her well-being.

  Marcia turned to her friend. “I hear you,” she said finally.

  “Do you?” Angie asked pointedly. “Because I’m not suggesting you rush into anything. I’m really not. But … open your heart to the possibility.”

  “And open my eyes.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she quipped, her eyes sparkling. “Open your eyes. I promise you, you’re going to enjoy the view.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Marcia had just arrived home from work when her phone rang. She hurried to answer it. A breathless Angie spoke rapidly into the phone. “Okay, forget everything I said today.” There was a long pause. “Wait, no, don’t forget everything I said. It was all true, just…”

  Marcia chuckled uncertainly. “Okay, Angie, slow down a bit. You have me awfully confused here…”

  “I know!” she cried. “And I couldn’t be sorrier about that.”

  “Angie, what are you talking about?”

  “Okay, look. I told you to be open to a relationship with Ethan, but…”

  “But what?”

  There was another long pause. “Don’t.”

  Marcia frowned and sat down in a chair at her dinette table. Her heart began to drum in her chest. “What is it, Angie?”

  “Have you seen today’s paper?”

  “Hold on just a sec.” She rose to retrieve the paper from her front porch. She opened it as she walked back to her kitchen. After sitting down again, she picked up the phone. “Okay, what am I supposed to be looking at?”

  “Turn to the Society Page.”

  She found the section of paper, unfolded it, and promptly gasped. On page one, she saw a smiling Ethan with Gwen plied against his side. Both were dressed to the nines, Ethan in a tux, Gwen in a gown slit up to the top of her left thigh. Wearing a seductive expression on her perfectly tanned face, Gwen’s full lips hovered near Ethan’s left cheek. His eyes twinkled merrily for the camera.

  Marcia sat silently for a moment, processing. Finally, Angie’s voice roused her. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course, I’m all right,” she said, attempting a neither-here-nor-there tone. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “So … you don’t have feelings for Ethan?
” she said tentatively. “Because, I kind of got the vibe that you might have feelings for him, despite the fact that you’ve repeatedly denied those…”

  “Angie, I’m barely out of my marriage,” she cut in. “The last thing I need is another relationship.” She forced a laugh. “Besides, Ethan and Gwen are much more suited to one another anyway,” she added, studying the photo, and realizing it was true. She and Ethan had nothing in common. He lived in the spotlight much of the time, and she had absolutely no desire to live that lifestyle. She preferred home and hearth, while he obviously enjoyed the night scene. She suspected that once he finished the bungalow and lived there awhile, he’d grow weary of suburbia and run back to his old life.

  “Marcia, you’re sure you’re all right? I’ll come over if you need me.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “But I’d better scoot. I have a lot to get done around here.”

  “If you’re sure you’re…”

  “I’m fine.”

  After hanging up the phone, she sat quietly for several moments. She quickly skimmed the article beneath the photo, about a charity event that had taken place the evening before. Her heart gave a jolt when she read that a family friend of the Winslows, who wished not to be identified, noted that Ethan and Gwen had broken up in recent weeks, but had apparently reconciled. She stole a glance at the photo again. The couple looked content and happy together. Clearly, they had reconciled.

  Suddenly, she recalled something. Ethan had mentioned breaking up with Gwen six months prior, yet the article indicated the split had been recent. Feeling her cheeks heat up with anger—why had Ethan lied to her?—she folded the paper and tossed it aside.

  But then, what did she have to be angry about? Ethan didn’t belong to her.

  Still, she couldn’t help feeling betrayed. Was there something about her that gave off an ‘I’m easily duped’ vibe? she wondered. Why did she attract dishonest men? Well, presuming she had attracted him in the first place. Perhaps his apparent interest had all been a ruse. Or perhaps she had imagined he was interested in her, or had misconstrued friendship for something more.

  She groaned loudly, dropping her head onto her folded arms. Why did life have to be so complicated?

  She sat silently for several moments. Thankfully, she had seen the photo in time, since, it was true she had feelings for him. She couldn’t lie to herself any longer. She cared about him, despite her attempts at keeping those feelings at bay.

  She remembered the words of a self-help personality on TV. You can’t fix what you don’t acknowledge. Well, she had just acknowledged her feelings for Ethan, so now she could fix them. And fixing them meant she could work at shutting them off. Self protection was critical right now. She had too much to lose. She’d finally found peace on her own—separate of a controlling ex-husband. She was happy on her own. Why risk that happiness?

  Seeing that photo lent clarity to her resolve to steer clear of romantic entanglements. That was exactly what she needed to do. Yet… Some inner voice continued to assert that Ethan was sincere—nothing like her ex.

  Perhaps there was a logical explanation for that photo. Her instincts told her he was a good man. Unfortunately … her instincts were off kilter thanks to Jay, and like Jay, couldn’t be trusted.

  Engulfed in confusion, Marcia felt tears spring to her eyes. Wasn’t it better to be safe than sorry, as her mother had always said. Yes. She needed to keep her distance from Ethan. She needed to get on with her life—alone.

  ***

  After Ethan and Marcia had finished up much of the drywall in the bungalow earlier in the day, he had been called away for a late meeting at his corporate offices. It wasn’t until the meeting came to a close and everyone had left that Thomas tossed the newspaper in front of him.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Look at it.”

  Ethan’s eyes widened when he spied the photo. It was a shot of him and Gwen together. He studied it intently, vaguely remembering it. It was an old one, from several years prior. He quickly checked the paper’s publication date. It was today’s early morning edition.

  He glanced up at Thomas, his brows furrowed into a frown. “What the heck is this…?” he muttered.

  Thomas shrugged. “You tell me. Did you go to the charity event last night?”

  He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I sent one of the guys over with a check.”

  “That’s what I thought you said you intended to do.”

  “So, why the photo?” Ethan mused aloud. Suddenly, his eyes widened in alarm. “What if…”

  Thomas nodded with understanding. “Marcia sees it?”

  “Well, yeah,” he said with a long sigh. “She’ll think Gwen and I are…”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what she’s going to think,” he said, eyeing him speculatively. “So I take it you’ve finally told Marcia how you feel about her?”

  He shook his head. “I’m still taking things slow, you know. I don’t want to scare her off.” He sat silently for a moment, pondering. “Do you think Gwen had something to do with the photo? I know she has a good friend who works for the paper.”

  “Could be. I wouldn’t put it past her.” Thomas stepped closer to the paper and studied the picture. “I wouldn’t worry too much,” he said with a lopsided grin. “You’ve aged, buddy. There’s no way anyone will mistake the you in the photo for you today.”

  “Yeah, okay, thanks,” Ethan said drolly. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Oh, by the way,” Thomas said, “you do owe me some thanks. You’ll find that item you asked me to pick up for you in your office.” He shook his head. “What you need with a puppy, I will never know.”

  “I’ve wanted a dog for years. But she’s not for me.”

  Thomas looked relieved. “Good. I always figured you for a lab man. Or maybe a shepherd kind of a guy. That little thing in your office would fit in your shirt pocket.”

  ***

  Ethan arrived home well after eight in the evening. He glanced over at Marcia’s

  place as he climbed out of his truck. The curtains were drawn and the house was apparently buttoned up for the night.

  He wondered if she’d seen the photo in the newspaper. He looked heavenward, uttering a silent prayer that she’d somehow missed it. It bothered him terribly that she might think he’d lied to her—again.

  When he’d read the part in the article suggesting he and Gwen had only broken up recently, he had felt as if someone had plunged a knife into his heart. After having deceived Marcia about his home improvement skills, he wasn’t sure she would be open to an explanation about the mix-up in the paper.

  He glanced toward her house again. Some movement toward the roofline caught his eye. He took a step or two closer, squinting to see in the dim light of dusk. Was he mistaken, or was the screen in the attic window flapping in the light wind? He moved closer and sure enough, he saw that the screen was torn and dangling. He tried to remember—had that window been open earlier?

  Quickly leaning back into the truck, he grabbed the dog carrier that housed the new puppy. He carried it inside, talking softly to the skittish Dachshund. “I’ll be right back,” he told her and then headed back outside.

  “Ethan?”

  He glanced up at the sound of his neighbor’s voice. “Oh, hey, Mr. Grambel.”

  “Didn’t mean to scare you, son.” The older man gestured toward Marcia’s window. “You saw it too, eh?”

  He nodded and shot another glance at the window. “Was it open earlier today?” he wondered aloud.

  “The missus noticed Marcia had opened the window earlier—probably to let some air in. Just a bit ago, I was letting our dog out and spotted a raccoon climb down off the roof and rush headlong into the screen. Tore it right open.”

  Ethan sighed. “Ah, shoot.” He turned to his elderly neighbor. “I take it Marcia’s not home?”

  He shook his head. “She left around seven. We’ve been watching for her to come home. I don’t want h
er going up to that attic alone. A cornered raccoon can get mighty crusty.”

  “You’re right about that,” Ethan agreed.

  “I figured I’d head on over when she got home and have a look upstairs,” he said.

  Ethan gave a dismissive wave. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll go over when she gets home.”

  Mr. Grambel gave him a speculative look, seeming to search for the right words before finally speaking. “Uh, I, uh, well the missus tells me…” He smiled self-consciously. “I understand you and your, uh, ex-girlfriend, are back together…”

  “Arrgghh,” Ethan groaned, shaking his head. “You saw the photo.”

  “Read the article too,” the older man said, pinning him with a look. “Son, so you know, Marcia is like a granddaughter to me. Now, I like you a lot too, but I have to tell you, if you hurt Marcia, all bets are off.” He straightened to his full height and thrust back his shoulders, in an attempt to look menacing.

  Ethan forced back a smile. “The photo is old. I didn’t even go to the event. I don’t know why the paper ran that picture. Gwen and I are no longer together,” he finished.

  Mr. Grambel grinned broadly with relief and thumped him on the back. “Okay, then. I figured there had to be an explanation. I mean, with you watching Marcia all dopey eyed, I figured you…”

  “Dopey eyed,” Ethan repeated, laughing uncertainly.

  “Well, it’s mighty clear you have it bad for Marcia, boy. No harm in that, as long as you do right by her.” He chuckled with relief. “Well, good then. The wife said the photo appeared to be a few years old. She has a good eye, the missus…”

  Ethan forced a laugh. Had he aged that much in the last few years? Truth was, he felt as if he was growing older by the second.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ethan crossed the lawn to Marcia’s house, deciding to wait for her on her porch. He wasn’t going to chance her arriving home and missing that damaged screen. If she heard a noise and went up to the attic alone, there was no telling what might happen if the raccoon became disoriented. In an agitated state, it might not easily recognize the open window as an escape route.