“Are you keeping a list?” A soft smile formed on her lips.
“I wasn’t, but I am now.” I raised my own glass to clink with hers. “To things in common.”
“To things in common,” she echoed.
“Are you looking for a job? Not to pry into your financials, but do you need a job?”
“I’m okay financially. I’d love to get a job, but have no idea what’s out there. Working again would be another nail in the coffin of my old life.”
“What do you want to do? Or what can you do?”
“Ah, therein lies the rub. I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve worked, I’m out of practice. I can join a committee, plan a fundraiser, host a party, but not sure if any of those things will get me a job on the island.”
“Think about it and let me know. I know a lot of people. Figure out what you want to do and I’ll get the word out.”
“Thank you. Now, I’ve told you the horrible story of the demise of my perfect marriage, your turn.” She turned the tables on me.
What could I share with her? I wasn’t going to spew my life disappointments at her. We might have a few things in common, but I wasn’t ready to go deep tonight.
“I’ve never married, so no ex-wives lurking around.”
“I’ve seen a brunette around here. Who’s she?”
Ah, who was Kelly? The easy and partially true answer would be my girlfriend. Or would have been a few weeks ago, pre-dinner revelations. How do I define her?
“The brunette is Kelly. Someone I’ve been dating.”
“Girlfriend?” she asked, apparently unashamed she might be prying.
“Not really. Things are complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“Like you, she’s getting a divorce. Or was. Maybe still is. Pretty sure she still is.” My words tumbled out in a mess of uncertainty. Fuck, I sounded like a pussy.
“You don’t know if she is or isn’t getting a divorce?”
I took a deep breath and stretched my neck, rolling it from side to side before running my hand over the scruff of my beard.
“That about sums it up. We ran into each other again last summer. At that point, she was legally separated and it was only a matter of time. Then a few weeks ago I hear from her mother of all people she and the husband are still talking. Like I said, complicated.”
“Sounds messed up. Are you in love with her?”
Am I in love with Kelly?
“Look, I don’t mean to pry, but since I already am, I might as well give you some unsolicited advice.”
I couldn’t help but snort at her offer of advice, but waited for her to continue.
“Yeah, I’m the last person who should be giving anyone relationship advice. If you don’t know if you’re in love, then you probably aren’t. Marriages and divorces are complicated, and not something you want to be the third leg to.”
I listened to her words, knowing she said them from a place of kindness. “Tell me about it. Right now I’m in a holding pattern.”
“She’s a fool if she tosses you aside, but love makes fools of the best of us.” She reached out and gently touched my forearm. “I’ve sworn off the L word for now.”
“L word?”
“Love. For the time being I want uncomplicated, straightforward interactions. Nothing romantic. Nothing serious. No promises of fairy tales or happily-ever-afters.”
“Sounds like a smart choice. I don’t normally do the whole relationship thing. Kelly was the first for me in a while. Probably because of my stupid high school crush on her.”
“Ah, I wondered when you said you ran into her again. So she’s the one who got away?”
“Hardly. She was the one who never paid me any attention in school. I played soccer with her brother and I don’t think she ever looked in my direction twice.”
“Like I said before, she’s a fool. Who wouldn’t look at you twice?” Her words had a flirty edge to them I didn’t miss.
“I was a long, lanky guy who was more obsessed with soccer than girls. I didn’t fill out until college.”
“You definitely filled out.” Her eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth. “Did I say that out loud?”
“You did.” I watched as her cheeks turned crimson.
“No more wine for me. I’ve lost my filter. First, I’m giving you love advice when I don’t even know you. Now I’m ogling you out loud. Clearly I’m not fit for human company these days. Maybe I should get myself a dog.”
Her squirming and clear embarrassment made me want to laugh or hug her. I did neither.
“I should head home before I completely embarrass myself.”
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Your cheeks turn bright red.”
“Please, can we blame that on the wine?” Her blush deepened.
“Honestly, I’ve enjoyed spending time with you tonight. We should hang out more often. You’ve probably figured out it’s pretty quiet down here on the beach in the winter. It’s nice to have the company.”
“You’re too nice. I’m going to hide now.” She wrapped her cardigan around herself like armor.
“I’m not that nice.”
“You are. You saved me from the closed flue, you helped me buy a car, and presently you’re overlooking my foot-in-mouth syndrome. All nice things.”
“If you say so. Give yourself time to get to know me before you make that decision. Bachelor for a reason.”
“I have no problem with that. I’ve sworn off relationships and you’re in a “it’s complicated” situation. Only thing for us to do is be friends. I could use a friend on the island.”
Friends sounded good. Diane fit the mold of one of the summer wives who arrived every Memorial Day, but there was something else about her. Something deeper and maybe wounded tugged at me to be her friend.
“Friends it is.”
“Let’s shake on it.” She stuck out her hand and I shook it.
“We don’t have to spit swear or anything like that, do we?” I asked.
“I thought maybe a blood pact. I’m sure you have a knife around here somewhere in this manly house.”
“You aren’t serious?” She couldn’t be serious.
“The expression on your face right now. No, no sharing of bodily fluids as friends. Spit, blood, or other fluids.” With a resolution to her voice, she nodded and shook my hand again since I still held hers.
“Good on the no knives. I don’t like human blood.”
“Are you telling me you aren’t a vampire so I’ll invite you into my house, and then you’ll actually be a vampire and kill me?”
This time I didn’t hold back my laughter. “Your mind works in wild ways,” I said after the laughter died down.
“You didn’t answer the question. Are you a vampire?”
I started to answer no when two things happened simultaneously: the power went out and Diane screamed.
DIANE NOT ONLY screamed, but practically jumped into my lap. Her hand clutched my shirt and her nails dug into my chest through the flannel. The whole scenario couldn’t have been timed better. Talk turned to vampires and then the lights go out. A warm glow from the last of the fire lit the room, so we weren’t in complete darkness. My laughter broke the silence that descended with the dark.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“I am. I’m sorry, but you have to admit, it’s pretty damn funny.”
“My being scared out of my skin is funny?” She attempted to sound offended, but I could hear amusement in her voice. “Vampires are scary.”
“If they’re so scary, and you believed I am one, why jump toward me when the lights went out? Have you no sense of self-preservation?”
Full giggles erupted from her. Leaning back, she released my shirt, tilted her head back, and let her laughter out. After a moment, she composed herself. “Oh my god, I’m the idiot girl who goes back inside the cabin or upstairs in the horror movie! I’m the one everyone yells at for not running for help
when I had the opportunity.”
“Pretty much. You’re toast.” I leaned forward toward her exposed neck and spoke in a Transylvanian accent. “Don’t worry, I bite, but it will be painless after the fangs sink into your flesh.”
When I stopped about an inch from her neck, she froze in place. Her laughter stopped, and I wasn’t sure if she was breathing. Pulling back, I stared into her eyes, which were wide in the low light of the fire.
“Breathe. I wasn’t going to bite you,” I said.
She shuffled and sat more upright, breaking whatever tension was rising between us. “I know. I never believed you were a vampire. That accent gave you away. What was it? Jersey?”
I chuckled and rubbed my nails over my scruff. “Transylvania, of course. Jersey? Really?”
“Maybe Philly. Not Eastern Europe. You might want to work on that a little more.” Her words teased, but her posture had slipped into something more formal. I’d clearly crossed a line, but I had no idea what that line was.
The wind howled outside, lashing rain against the windows. Babe raised his head, gazed outside, and sighed before dropping back down on his bed.
“Do you think the power will be out for a long time?” Worry crept into her voice.
“Hard to say. Might be an hour or a few days.”
“Crap.”
“You have enough wood. There should be flashlights, candles, and extra blankets a plenty over there, but you’re welcome to sleep here tonight.” My offer was genuine and without ulterior motives.
“How would Kelly feel about that?”
How would she feel about me having Diane here? Good question. “She wouldn’t like it. Let’s say she gets a little possessive of me.”
“Can’t blame her. I’d hate to create any trouble for you. If I could borrow a flashlight, I’ll be fine once I get inside. I can sleep by the wood stove if it gets colder. Maggie has several down comforters; I should be warm tonight. I’ll be fine.”
Her words were brave, but an undertone of concern and uncertainty lay beneath them.
“You sure? I’ve got the generator, which should kick on pretty soon. You’d be more comfortable over here.”
“I’m sure. Now that I have confirmation my fears about a paranormal monster living next door are unfounded, I’ll be able to sleep at night.”
“Glad we cleared the air. If you’re worried about Dave down the road, you know the guy with all the hair, I can assure you he’s not a werewolf or shape-shifter.”
“Good to know. I have no idea who you are talking about, but I appreciate you letting me know. I really do.” She grinned at me.
“Good, everything’s settled. Let me find a flashlight and get you home.”
“It’s miserable out there. You don’t have to walk me home.”
“I insist. I want to make sure you have everything you need. A little rain won’t hurt me.”
I turned on a few LED candles and found a flashlight in the drawer by the door. After bundling up in our coats, we sprinted for Maggie’s door. Despite the short distance, we were both soaked by the time we got inside. I shook the water from my hair with my hands and pushed it out of my face. Diane laid her dripping coat on a chair and searched for candles or a flashlight. Finally locating both in the basket on top of the fridge, she thanked me again. For what, I wasn’t certain.
“Listen, if the power is out tomorrow morning, come over and shower at my place. I’ll be up early and off to work, but there’ll be coffee and food. Best not to open the fridge or freezer here unless you have to. Food should be okay for a few hours without power. There’s still the landline if your cell battery dies.”
“You’re very resourceful,” she complimented me, and my chest puffed out at the praise.
“Years of living on the island. You’ll find we’re hearty people who can handle whatever is thrown at us.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” She smiled at me in the darkness save the light of the flashlight where it laid on the island.
“Well, I’ll let you settle in. I had fun tonight. We’ll have to do it again.”
“I’d love that. You’re the only person I know here. I think we’re going to be great friends.”
Normally when a woman put me into the ‘friend box,’ I bristled, but I liked Diane. She was cool. Definitely not without baggage, but as far as a friend went, yeah, I could definitely hang out with her again.
I headed back out into the rain. When I reached my door, I turned back to wave at Diane. She waved her flashlight in response. Smiling, I walked inside. It was good to have a neighbor again.
The power came back on the next morning around five. I know because Babe woke me up barking at the silence after the generator turned off. Good guard dog.
Part of me felt disappointed Diane wouldn’t be coming over for coffee. I missed my morning coffees with Maggie, and Diane might be a good substitute. I wondered if she was a morning person like me, or a cranky witch without her caffeine like Mags. Hopefully I’d find out.
I’d left my phone downstairs last night, so I hadn’t seen that Kelly had texted me a few times. She acted perturbed and asked more than once why I didn’t respond to her texts. I failed to mention having pizza with Diane. It wasn’t a date, far from it, but somehow I knew Kelly would be annoyed. Diane was right. There was no way in hell Kelly would be okay with another woman showering here. Funny, given she was okay with seeing her ex/not-ex. Yeah. Double-standards.
I sent her a short reply telling her we’d lost power.
She responded with a snarky comment about rural living.
Not in the mood for her jabs, I ignored my phone while getting ready, and headed to work. If trees were downed, our equipment could be needed by the county. I’d have to check if power was still out around the island. People might need more wood, and I made it a habit to drop off split wood to those who needed it—the elderly or struggling families. Something I started doing a few years ago, but didn’t brag about. For one thing, I didn’t want word getting out we were a source for free wood, cause firewood isn’t our business. Second, people tend to take advantage of generosity. Messed up, but true.
The storm let up in the afternoon, but I still dropped off a few loads of firewood at the end of the day. Left them on the porches or filled empty wood holders on my usual route. No thanks needed or expected.
Arriving home, I could see the power was back on at Diane’s. The early evening darkness highlighted the glow from lamps in her living room flowing out onto the lawn. I debated for about a minute before deciding to check on her.
The chords of classic rock sounded through the front door when I knocked.
Diane clearly hadn’t expected company. The baggy gray sweater had been replaced by a tight long sleeve T-shirt and what Maggie always called yoga pants. The curves I suspected where hidden under the oversize sweater were on display. And what curves they were.
A cough brought my eyes up to hers. “Um, hi.”
I knew I’d been busted. Meeting her eyes, I could see the delight in them.
“Hey.”
“Um, hey. Just checking to make sure you’re okay. Power came back on about five this morning.”
“Hey, thanks. Come on in. Unless you’re a vampire.” She raised an eyebrow and waited, her lips twitching to fight back a smile.
“Nope, not a vampire.” I smiled and her own smile broke free.
“Good, come on in. I’m making dinner.”
“Doesn’t smell like anything’s burning.” I walked down the hall into the airy living room, sniffing the air. Some kind of stew simmered on the stove in the open kitchen, and I could smell something baking in the oven.
She padded over to stir the stew. “That’s a relief. I was afraid it would smell of smoke in here forever. Lesson learned, though,” she said, pointing at the fire in the wood stove.
“Fire going, dinner cooking, and whatever smells amazing in the oven, looks like you’ve settled in to living here.”
“I ha
ve. I can’t believe it’s only been a few weeks, but this place feels more like home than my co-op ever did. Want to stay and eat? I made stew and there are biscuits in the oven.”
“Stew and biscuits sound amazing. Are you sure you’re a snooty city girl? This is simple fare.”
She laughed at my teasing. “I’m a simple girl at heart. Guess I forgot along the way.”
“I need to let Babe out. He’s been cooped up all day.”
“Bring him over. I’m sure he knows the run of the house over here.”
After letting Babe out, we walked back to the house. Diane had set the dining table. I guess old patterns died hard.
“I brought a bottle of Pinot.” I set the bottle down on the counter.
“Thanks, but I love beer with stew. You can have either.”
I liked this stew and beer Diane and smiled. “Beer’s fine.”
Steam rose from the stew as we ate dinner. Conversation didn’t lag between us, but no great personal revelations either. We talked about storms and our dependence on modern conveniences. I teased her about winning me over through my stomach when she brought over an apple crisp from the counter.
“I wasn’t expecting company. I’m embarrassed to admit all this would have been for me. There would’ve been leftovers all week. I don’t know how to cook for one,” she said.
“I’m happy to help out any time. I was spoiled by your predecessor, who’s a food blogger. She was always trying out new recipes on me. I’ll never forget the tea brined chicken. It tasted, um, interesting.”
“You don’t seem the fancy food type of guy.”
“What was your first clue?” I asked.
“Well, you appear pretty straightforward all around. Sturdy work clothes because you need them. A truck which functions more than impresses. Loyal dog. It’s all without pretense.”
I glanced at my Carhartt jacket thrown on the stool and down at my jean covered legs. Flannel shirt, thermal underneath. “I’d never considered my clothes as a personal statement. They serve their purpose. Never been one of those guys who wears fancy socks or designer jeans.”
Wingmen (Modern Love Story #2, 4, & bonus) Page 4