Good Husband Material

Home > Romance > Good Husband Material > Page 6
Good Husband Material Page 6

by Susan Mallery


  Kari shook her head to chase away the ghosts, then plopped on the floor to study the contents of the bottom drawer. There were several sweaters wrapped in lengths of cotton and protected by cedar chips. She held up a pale blue sweater, admiring the workmanship and the old-fashioned style. This particular sweater had been a favorite. Kari could see her grandmother in it as clearly as if the woman stood in front of her.

  “Oh, Grammy, I miss you,” she whispered into the silence of the morning. “I know you’ve been gone a long time, but I still think about you every day. And I love you.”

  Kari paused, then smiled slightly as she imagined her grandmother whispering back that she loved her favorite girl, too. More than ever. Despite everything, her grandmother had been the one constant in her life.

  Kari slowly put the sweater back. She realized she needed a few boxes so she could sort those items that were going with her from those that were not. She touched the sweater before closing the drawer. That she would keep. It would be a talisman—her way to connect to some of her happiest memories.

  The middle drawer yielded scarves and gloves, while the top drawer held her grandmother’s costume jewelry. There were plenty of real pieces, Kari remembered as she touched a pin in the shape of a dragonfly. They were in a jewelry chest on the top of the dresser. A string of pearls and matching earrings, a few gold chains. Perhaps her grandmother had worn them, too, but all of Kari’s memories of the woman who had raised her were much more connected with the costume pieces.

  There were the gaudy necklaces that Kari had dressed up in when she was little and the fake pearl choker her grandmother had worn to church every Sunday. The bangle bracelets and the butterfly earrings and the tiny enameled rose pin Kari had been allowed to wear on her first date with Gage.

  She shifted on the floor so that she leaned against the old bed. The rose pin didn’t look the worse for wear. She rubbed her fingers across the smooth petals, remembering how her grandmother had pinned it on Kari’s blouse five minutes before Gage had arrived to pick her up.

  “For luck,” her grandmother had said with a smile.

  Kari smiled, too, now, even as she fought tears. Back then she’d wanted every bit of luck available. She hadn’t been able to believe that someone as grown up and handsome as Gage Reynolds had asked her out. When he’d issued the invitation, it had been all she could do not to ask him why he’d bothered.

  But she hadn’t. And when she’d gotten nervous on that date, she’d touched the rose pin for luck. It had happened so many times, Gage had finally commented on the tiny piece of jewelry.

  They’d been walking out back, Kari remembered, her mouth trembling slightly as she battled with tears. After a dinner at which she’d barely managed to swallow two bites, he’d taken her for a walk in the pecan grove.

  She could still smell the earth and hear the crunch of the fallen pecans under their feet. She’d thought then that he might kiss her, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d taken her hand in his. She’d almost died right there on the spot.

  It wasn’t that no one had held her hand before. Other boys had. But that was the difference…they were boys. Gage was a man. Still, despite the age difference and her complete lack of subtlety, he’d laced his fingers with hers as they’d walked along. Kari had relived the moment for days.

  They’d been out exactly five times before he finally kissed her. She touched the pin again, smiling as she remembered pinning it on her sweater that October evening. Once again, Gage had taken her to dinner and she’d only managed to eat a third of her entrée. She hadn’t been dieting—that didn’t come until her move to New York. Instead, she’d been too nervous to eat. Too worried about putting a foot wrong or appearing immature. After only five dates, she was well on her way to being in love with Gage. Her fate had been sealed that evening, as she leaned against the pecan tree, her heart beating so fast it practically took flight.

  She closed her eyes, still able to feel the tree pressing into her back. She’d been scared and hopeful and apprehensive and excited, all at the same time. Gage had been talking and talking and she’d been wishing he would just do it. But what if he didn’t want to kiss her? What if…

  And then he had. He’d lightly touched the pin, telling her how pretty it was. But not as pretty as her. Then, while she was still swooning over the compliment, he’d bent low and brushed his mouth to hers.

  Kari sighed softly. As first-kiss memories went, she would bet that hers was one of the best. Before then, she’d dated some, and kissed some, but never anyone like him. In fact, she couldn’t remember any of her first kisses with other boys. But she remembered Gage. Everything from the way he’d put his hand on her shoulder to how he’d stroked her cheek with his warm fingers.

  A shiver caught her unaware as it lazily drifted down her back. The restless feeling returned, and with it all the questions as to why he hadn’t bothered to kiss her again the previous night.

  Impulsively, she fastened the rose pin to her T-shirt. Maybe she was still floundering around in her love life, but she had some fabulous memories. However it might have ended, Gage had treated her incredibly well when they were together. There weren’t many men like him.

  She had the brief thought that it would be wonderful to be meeting him now, for the first time. She had a feeling that without all their past baggage to trip over, they could make something wonderful happen between them.

  The daydream sustained her for a second or two, until she reminded herself that it didn’t matter what would or would not be happening if she and Gage had just met. Possum Landing was his world, and she was most definitely not back to stay.

  Chapter Five

  After walking through the upstairs and deciding on paint colors, Kari made a list and headed for the hardware store. Since she’d last been in Possum Landing, one of those new home improvement superstores had opened up on the main highway about ten miles away. She was sure their selection was bigger, their prices were lower and that she probably wouldn’t run into one person she knew. But starting a refurbishing project without stopping by Greene’s Hardware Center would probably cause someone from the city council to stop by with a written complaint. Her grandmother had always taught her the importance of supporting the local community. And old Ed Greene had owned the store since before Kari was born.

  New York was a big city made up of small neighborhoods. Over time, Kari had come to know the people who worked at the Chinese place where she ate once a week, and she and the lady at the dry cleaner had been on speaking terms. But those relationships hadn’t had the same history that existed here in Possum Landing.

  So she drove across town to Greene’s, then pulled into the parking lot that had last been repaved in the 1980s. The metal sign was still there, as was an old advertisement for a certain brand of exterior paint. Advertising slogans, long out of date, covered most of the front windows.

  Kari smiled in anticipation, knowing there would be a jumble of merchandise inside. If she wasn’t careful she would come out with more than just paint. She still remembered the old rooster weather vane her grandmother had come home with one afternoon. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how Ed had talked her into buying it.

  Kari pulled her list out of her purse, determined to be strong. She walked up the creaking steps of the building’s front porch and stepped into the past.

  Old file cabinets stood by the front door. They contained everything from stencils to paint chips, instruction on lawn care and packets of exotic grass seeds. To the right was a long wooden counter with Peg-Board behind it. Dozens of small tools hung in a seemingly unorganized array. The place smelled of dust and cut wood and varnish. For a moment Kari felt as if she were eight again. She could almost hear her grandmother calling for her to stay out of trouble.

  “Kari?”

  The female voice was familiar. Kari turned and saw Edie Reynolds walking in from the back room. Gage’s mother was a tall, dark-haired woman, still attractive and vibrant. She smile
d broadly as she approached and pulled Kari into a welcoming hug.

  “I’d heard you were back in town,” Edie said when she released her. “How are you? You look great.”

  “You, too,” Kari managed to say, too surprised by the friendly greeting to protest that she wasn’t back for any length of time. She knew that Gage’s mother would have known about her son’s plans to propose and that she, Kari, had broken off the relationship in a less than honorable way. Apparently, Edie had decided to forgive and forget.

  Edie pulled out one of the stools in front of the counter and took a seat, then motioned for Kari to do the same.

  “Tell me everything,” the older woman said. “You’re staying at your grandmother’s house, right?” She smiled. “Actually, I suppose it’s your house now.”

  “I still think of it as hers,” Kari admitted. “I want to fix it up and sell it. That’s why I’m here. I need supplies.”

  “We have plenty.” Edie laughed. “So you were in New York. Did you like it? Gage showed me some of your pictures. You were in some pretty big magazines.”

  “I managed to make a living. But it wasn’t the career I thought I wanted. I went to college and just received my teaching credentials.”

  “Good for you.” Edie glanced around the store. “As you can see, nothing’s changed.”

  Kari didn’t know if she agreed or not. Some things seemed different, while others—like her reaction to Gage—didn’t seem to have evolved at all.

  “You working here is different,” Kari said. “I only remember seeing Ed behind the counter.”

  “That old coot,” Edie said affectionately. “I took a part-time job a year or so after Ralph died. I didn’t need the money, but I desperately needed to get out of the house. The walls were starting to close in on me.”

  “I’m sorry about Ralph,” Kari said.

  Edie sighed. “He was a good man. One of the best. I still miss him, of course. I’ll always miss him.” She smiled again. “Which probably makes the news of my engagement a little hard to understand.”

  “Not at all. I think it’s wonderful you found someone.”

  “We met right here,” Edie said, her eyes twinkling. “He’s retired now, but he was still working then. A contractor on a job. He ran out of nails and popped in to buy some. It was just one of those things. I had started dating a few months before and really hated the whole process, but with John…everything felt right. Somehow I knew.”

  Kari envied Edie her certainty. She’d dated from time to time, and no man had ever felt right. Well, Gage had, but that had been years ago.

  “When’s the wedding?” Kari asked.

  “This fall. We’re still planning the honeymoon. I can’t wait.”

  “It sounds wonderful.”

  “I’m hoping it will be. Now, enough about me, tell me about yourself. I’ll bet you never expected a bank robbery to welcome you back.”

  Kari nodded. “I managed to avoid crime the whole time I was in New York, but after less than twenty-four hours in Possum Landing I had a man holding a gun to my head.” She touched Edie’s arm. “Gage was very brave.”

  “I know. I hate that he put himself in danger, but as he pointed out to me, it’s his job. I tell myself that the good news is he doesn’t have to do it very often. Possum Landing is hardly a center of criminal activity.”

  They chatted for a few more minutes, then Edie helped Kari buy primer and paint, brushes, rollers, tarps and all the other supplies she would need for her painting project.

  She left the hardware store with her trunk full and her spirits light. There was something to be said for a place where everyone knew her name.

  “You’d better be awake or there’s going to be hell to pay,” Gage called as he strolled in through the back door without knocking.

  Kari didn’t bother looking up at him. Instead, she grabbed another mug from the cupboard and filled it with hot coffee.

  “Good morning to you, too,” she said, turning to face him as she handed him the mug.

  Whatever else she’d started to say fled her brain as she took in the worn jeans and tattered T-shirt he wore. She’d only seen him in his uniform since she’d returned to Possum Landing, and while the khaki shirt and pants emphasized the strength of his body, they had nothing on worn denim.

  What was it about a sexy man in blue jeans? Kari wondered as her chest tightened slightly. Was it the movement of strong thigh muscles under fabric made soft by dozens of washings? The slight fading by the crotch, or the low-slung settling on narrow hips? She barely noticed the cooler he set on her kitchen table.

  “I have a list of demands,” he said after taking a sip.

  She blinked. “Demands for what?”

  “Work. I might work for free, but I don’t come cheap. I expect a break every two hours and I expect to be well fed. Before we start, I want to know what’s for breakfast and lunch.”

  She burst out laughing, but Gage didn’t even crack a smile.

  “Okay, big guy,” she said. “Here’s the deal. Take a break whenever you want—I don’t care how often or how long. Seeing as I’m not paying you, I can’t really complain. There’s cold cereal for breakfast and I have sandwich fixings for lunch. Oh, and you’ll be making your own sandwich.”

  Gage muttered something about Kari not being a Southern flower of motherhood, then started opening cupboards. “Cereal,” he complained. “Aren’t you even going to offer me pancakes?”

  “Nope.”

  He muttered some more. “I’m just glad I stopped by my mama’s place. She made potato salad and macaroni salad. I’ll share, but that means you have to make my sandwich.”

  “Blackmail.”

  “Whatever works.”

  She poured herself more coffee and sighed. “All right. It’s a deal.”

  He poked through her cereal collection, which consisted of several single-serving boxes.

  “You turned into a Yankee while you were gone. I’ll bet you can’t even make grits anymore.”

  “I couldn’t make them when I lived here, so you’re right. I can’t make them now.”

  He pretended outrage. “I could arrest you for that, you know. This is Possum Landing. We have standards.”

  She topped off his coffee mug, then started for the stairs. “If you’re done complaining, let’s get to work.”

  “Oh, great. No pancakes, you won’t make my sandwich and now you’re turning into a slave driver. Don’t that just beat all?”

  Kari chuckled as she reached the second floor. Gage’s teasing had managed to divert her attention from his jeans and what they did to her imagination…not to mention her libido. Far better to play word games than dream about other kinds of games. That would only get her into trouble.

  “I thought we’d start in here,” she said, walking into one of the small spare bedrooms. “I haven’t painted in years and I doubt I did a very good job when I was twelve. So I’m trying to gear up.”

  He looked around. She’d taken out the smaller pieces of furniture and had pushed the rest into the center of the room.

  After setting his mug on a windowsill, Gage grabbed a four-drawer dresser and picked it up. “Let’s get rid of a little more so we have room to work,” he said. “Where can I put this?”

  She stared at him. Last night she’d practically pulled a muscle just trying to move the dresser across the floor. Gage picked it up as if it weighed as much as a cat. Figures.

  “In my grandmother’s room.”

  He followed her down the hall. “Are you sleeping in there? Isn’t it the biggest bedroom?”

  “No and yes. I’m in my old room. I just felt better being in there.”

  He put down the dresser and turned. “She wouldn’t mind,” he said seriously. “She loved you.”

  “I know. I just…” How to explain? “I want to keep the memories as they are.”

  “Okay.”

  He put his arm around her as they walked back to the spare room. Kari tried not t
o react. Gage’s gesture was friendly, nothing more. Nothing romantic…or sexual. Her imagination was working overtime and she was going to make it stop right this minute.

  So why did she feel each of his fingertips where they touched her bare arm? And why did the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stand at attention?

  “I, uh, did some patching yesterday,” she said, slipping free of his embrace. Casual or not, his touch made her breathing ragged. “There were some nail holes and a few cracks. I guess we sand it next.”

  He stepped around her and studied her supplies. “I’ll sand. It’s man’s work.”

  “Man’s work?”

  “Sure.”

  “What will I be doing while you’re dragging home the woolly mammoth?”

  “You can clean up your putty knife and take off the baseboards.”

  She eyed the strips of wood encircling the room just above the carpeting. “Why isn’t that man’s work?”

  He sighed. “If I have to explain everything, we’ll never get the painting started, let alone finished.”

  “Uh-huh. Why do I know this is more about you doing what you want to do than defining tasks by gender?”

  Gage looked up blankly. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

  Kari thought about throwing something at him, but laughed, instead. While he went to work with sandpaper, she knelt on the opposite side of the room and gently began to pull the baseboards free of the wall.

  They worked in silence for nearly half an hour.

  “You do good work,” Gage said finally.

  “Thanks. I can read directions. Plus, I’ve learned to be good at odd jobs.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The need to eat and pay rent,” she said easily. “I told you, I didn’t get any modeling work for over a year. New York isn’t exactly cheap. So I worked different places to support myself. Some months it was tough.”

  He finished sanding and picked up a screwdriver. In a matter of seconds, he’d popped the pins out of the hinges and removed the door.

 

‹ Prev