The Last Chance Matinee

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The Last Chance Matinee Page 35

by Mariah Stewart


  “So what did you really think?” Joe asked after they left the parking lot.

  “Of the show? Interesting. I can’t say I loved it, but it had a very distinct flavor. Not like anything I’ve ever heard before.” She shifted so she could see him better. “I guess it’s an acquired taste.”

  “I have some CDs you can borrow if you like.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve had my fill for a while.” She looked out the window and suddenly realized nothing looked familiar.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “The other side of town.” He turned a corner, then stopped across the street from a small ranch-style house. “That’s where I grew up. My mom and my sister still live there. When my father died, he left us with a big financial mess. The mortgage company had been threatening to foreclose on our house, a fact he’d kept hidden from my mother. When the worst happened, and she got that notice, she just crumbled. She’d already lost so much, she couldn’t take one more thing. I don’t know how Barney found out about it, but she arranged for my mother to get a mortgage through the bank here in town.” He rested both arms on the steering wheel. “I didn’t know about that until this morning. I told my mom I was taking you out tonight, and she told me about the mortgage. ‘Don’t mess with Barney’s girl, Joe. Promise me you’ll behave yourself.’ ”

  He reached over and took her hand. “I couldn’t make that promise. I’ve been wanting to ‘mess’ with you from the minute I saw you at the gas station. You were so proper, so polite. Too polite to lay on your horn to get our attention. Too polite to call me a jerk when I clearly was being one.” He paused. “Of course, you made up for that the morning I met you at the theater.”

  She nodded slowly. “I did call you a jerk. At the time, I thought you were.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I think you’re the guy I’d like to ‘mess’ with a little.”

  He leaned over and kissed her, not with the fervor of the night before, but with a promise of all the things she’d stopped believing in.

  Joe pulled away from the curb and drove four blocks farther, then made a right and a quick left. He slowed after the first stop sign and pulled into a long driveway that ran alongside a white Cape Cod–style house.

  “This is it,” he told her. “It’s not exactly Hudson Street. . . .”

  She peered out the window. The house was small and had a front porch that begged for a rocking chair and a big pot of flowers that spilled over the sides. “It’s adorable. I love houses that have those alcove-y things on the second floor.”

  “Dormers,” he said as he got out. He was at the passenger door before Cara was free of her seat belt.

  “Right. Dormers. I don’t know why I can never remember that word.” Her nerves began to sneak up on her, and soon she was babbling as they walked to the front door. “Does that ever happen to you? There’s maybe one word you can never remember? And it’s usually something simple. Not like some technical term for some obscure medical procedure. It’s like those simple words you can never remember how to spell. One time I had to look up ‘soon.’ Who can’t remember how to spell ‘soon’?”

  “Probably someone who has second thoughts about messing with a guy.”

  He pushed the door open and held it for her, kicked it closed quickly behind him, and pinned Cara to it with his body. He kissed her, long and hard, in a way that both asked and answered. Finally, he pulled back and, looking into her eyes, said, “Spell ‘soon.’ ”

  Cara laughed. “S-o-o-n.”

  “You passed. You may have champagne.” He led her by the hand into the small kitchen, where he turned on the light and opened the refrigerator door.

  “You bought champagne just for tonight?”

  Joe nodded and took two juice glasses from a cupboard and opened the bottle. The cork popped with a loud bang and flew across the room.

  He poured the bubbly wine into the glasses and handed one to Cara.

  “What’s the occasion?” she asked.

  “Your ex got married tonight.”

  “You bought champagne to celebrate Drew’s wedding?” she asked.

  “No. I bought champagne to celebrate you. He doesn’t matter. You matter.” Joe leaned over and kissed her. “We matter. We deserve a chance, and this is where we begin.” He kissed her again. “You in?”

  “I’m in,” she whispered.

  He touched the rim of her glass with his, and they both drank. Joe set his glass on the counter and took hers to place it next to his. With his hands on her face, he kissed her again with so much heat and emotion her knees began to wobble.

  He took her by the hand and led her into the living room, which was comfortably furnished with a sofa over which a knitted afghan had been tossed, and a wingback chair that had an open book facedown on the seat. Across the mantel of the red-brick fireplace stood a line of fat white candles. Joe took a long wooden match from a box on the mantel and lit the candles, one by one.

  He fumbled in his pocket and took out his phone and scrolled on the screen until he found what he was looking for. When the music started, he took her in his arms and began to dance with her. It took a minute for her to recognize the song.

  “This played when we were in the Bullfrog that night,” she said. “We danced to this.”

  “That’s right. Johnny Rivers.” He cocked his head for a moment. “It’s coming up in a minute.” He started to sway again, humming for a moment, then whispered along with the song, “ ‘You’re the one I thought I’d never find.’ ”

  She sighed. “Dancing by candlelight to a pretty song. Champagne. You’re pushing all the right buttons.”

  “I’m trying. I am a pretty romantic guy.”

  “It makes me wonder what else you have up your sleeve.”

  The song ended and he sat her on the sofa, then picked up the TV remote control. He turned on the television, sought the On Demand feature, and selected a movie.

  “What did you just do?” she asked when Joe sat and put an arm around her.

  “Movie time.”

  “What movie?” she asked with some trepidation. Oh please, not porn . . .

  “Love Actually.”

  “That’s a chick flick.”

  Joe nodded. “I’m trying to get in touch with my softer side.”

  Cara laughed. “You put this on because you thought I’d like it?”

  Joe nodded again.

  “Even though you’ll probably hate it.”

  “ ‘Hate’ may be too harsh a word,” he said.

  She took the remote and returned to the movie selections, then scrolled through a number of films before clicking on an image.

  “I’m not a chick-flick kind of girl,” she explained.

  The theme song from the movie she chose began to play.

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “My all-time favorite movie.”

  “No kidding? Mine, too.” Joe grinned from ear to ear. “The original Ghostbusters. Best cast ever . . .”

  Joe went into the kitchen, retrieved the champagne, and refilled their glasses. As the candles continued to flicker, he proposed one more toast.

  “To everything we have to learn about each other—and to taking our time along the way.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Cara awoke the next morning slightly disoriented. She wasn’t sure where she was, but she knew she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. When she looked around the unfamiliar room, it all started to come back to her: starting the night at the gun club and ending it at Joe’s house.

  She sat up and stretched her legs, which were cramped from having been curled up on the sofa. The afghan that had been thrown over the back of the sofa had been tossed over her at some point during the night.

  Joe came into the room, sweatpants hanging on his hips. The sight of him—blond hair tossed this way and that, his bare chest—sent her reawakened libido into overdrive.

  “I made coffee,” he said, “but I’m not sure how
you take it.”

  “You made coffee?” Sweet, she thought.

  “You strike me as a girl who can’t do anything until she’s properly caffeinated.”

  “You’re correct,” she told him. “Caffeine makes the world go round.”

  “Where did you sleep?” she asked.

  Joe pointed to the floor next to the sofa.

  “You slept on the floor?” She frowned. “Why didn’t you just get into your bed?”

  “I didn’t want to leave you out here alone. I thought about carrying you into my bedroom but I figured you wouldn’t appreciate finding yourself in my bed this morning.” He was, she thought, only half kidding.

  “Thank you. The last thing I remember, you were putting in a DVD.”

  “Caddyshack,” he told her.

  “Damn. Another of my favorites.”

  “Next time.”

  Cara followed him into the kitchen, a square room with counters and cabinets around two sides. He poured coffee into a mug and handed it to her.

  “Milk and sugar on the counter if you want it.”

  “Thanks.” She added a bit of each to the mug and took a sip. “Very nice. And I like your kitchen.”

  “I bought this as a fixer-upper,” Joe told her. “As you can see, I haven’t gotten around to fixing it up yet. I thought it had real possibilities, but I’m not sure what I want to do with it.”

  “This could be so pretty,” she told him as she walked around the room. “You have great light in here. You could do granite or quartz for counters, though concrete is very in right now. The windows are lovely, and you have a great view of your backyard. Those wooden cabinets could be really cool if you painted them white, or maybe gray, and replaced some of the solid doors with glass. Maybe leave a few of the doors off so you’d have open shelves.”

  He looked at the cabinets as if seeing them for the first time.

  “Wow. That could be very cool. I never would’ve thought to do any of that. My inclination is to rip it all out and put up something new.”

  “Ah, I see. You subscribe to the caveman approach to home renovation.” She nodded solemnly.

  “It’s not that I lack vision—it’s just that I . . .” He paused to reflect. “I guess I lack vision. I like your ideas a lot. I’d thought I’d just buy some stock cabinets from one of the big-box stores and put ’em up, but what you described is so much cooler. When I finally get around to redoing the room, I will definitely consult with you.”

  “I’d be happy to toss in my two cents.” She stood at the back window looking out. “The yard is really big. I could see a patio out there and maybe a pergola. Some flower beds, a tree or two.”

  “That’s pretty much how I see it, too. I just need to find the time to make it happen.”

  “I guess taking on the theater project has taken a bite out of your free time.”

  Joe nodded. “But it’s totally worth it. I figure I’ve gained more than I lost.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but her gaze fell to the clock on the wall above the table.

  “Is that the right time?”

  “Might be a minute off, but—”

  “I have to go. I have to go. . . .” The words came out in a rush as she panicked.

  “Whoa, what’s going on?”

  “Nikki leaves for California this morning. I don’t want to miss her.” She flew into the living room and put on her shoes, tears in her eyes at the thought that her niece might leave before Cara could let her know how much she cared. “I have to be there to say goodbye, Joe.”

  “I’ll get you there.”

  He disappeared into the hall, then returned a minute later, pulling a sweatshirt over his head. Five minutes later they were in his car, headed to Hudson Street.

  “I’d like to come in,” Joe told her when they arrived at Hudson Street.

  “Won’t that be a little obvious?” She paused, her hand on the door handle. “You know. You and me . . .”

  “I think that cat’s out of the bag. Besides, you’re wearing the same thing you wore last night.” He lowered his voice. “Dead giveaway. Time for your walk of shame.”

  “But we didn’t . . .” She jumped out of the car. “Crap.”

  “Damn, if you aren’t the most romantic, sentimental woman I’ve ever met.” He followed her up the back steps.

  She turned and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “We have time, you and me. But Nikki . . . I’d really like to be with her and my sisters and Barney right now. I hope you understand I’m not trying to—”

  “I do understand. Go.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind not coming in?”

  “Positive. I should get going anyway. I need to take my mom to church.” He kissed the side of her face. “Tell Barney and Des I said ’bye, and give Nikki a hug for me. Try not to cry too much, the three of you.”

  “I don’t think it’ll be seriously bad until Allie gets home.”

  “Give me a call if you run out of tissues.” He pushed the door open for her.

  Only Des was in the kitchen, sitting in the window seat, Buttons on her lap, tears in her eyes.

  “Oh no. I’m too late.” Cara could have cried.

  “They haven’t left yet. I was just thinking about how much I’m going to miss that kid. You know—and I’ve said this before—as wacky as Allie is, she somehow managed to raise a remarkable child.”

  “She is, and she did.” Cara grabbed the box of tissues from the counter and shared the contents with Des.

  “I’m going to run up and change my clothes real fast.”

  “Oh, like no one will realize you didn’t come home last night?”

  “It’s not the way it looks,” Cara protested. “We didn’t—”

  “Well, then, other than that, how was it?” Des asked pointedly. “Did you have a good time?”

  Cara thought back to the candlelight, the champagne, the laughs they’d shared when they both recited the same movie lines at the same time. The heavy make-out session between Ghostbusters and Forrest Gump.

  “I had the best time. Joe is . . .” She tried to find the right words, then smiled. “The one I thought I’d never find.”

  With that, Cara went into her room and started pulling the sweater over her head and unbuttoning her skirt. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and tried to comb her hair, but it was all over the place. She tamed it, then pulled on jeans and a soft sweater. She glanced in the mirror and told herself that was as good as it was going to get for a while. The last thing she wanted was to miss what time she had with Nikki because she was preening.

  How had that kid come to mean so much to her in so short a time?

  She went into the hall, where she ran into Allie, who was just emerging from her bedroom.

  “Oh, you made it home. Now, if I’d had to bet, I would have put money on you not coming back last night. I’m not sure I would have, if I’d had a guy like Joe to cuddle up with all night. Or did you already change, lest the rest of us witness your walk of shame?”

  “I changed, but it’s not what you think. Nothing happened. And for the record, Joe’s not up for grabs. But I think you’d stand a good chance with the chief of police if you made nice.”

  “Don’t even mention that man to me. He’s an ass.” Allie got to the end of the hall and called her daughter. “Nikki, we have about twenty minutes before we have to leave.”

  “I’m almost ready, Mom. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “I can’t even look at that man without having homicidal thoughts.” Allie started down the steps, Ben Haldeman still apparently on her mind. When they came into the kitchen, Buttons greeted her with a wagging tail but Des was weepy. “What’s your problem?” Allie asked.

  “Really, Allie? You think you’re the only one who’s going to miss Nikki like crazy?”

  The topic of conversation came into the room, accompanied by Barney. “Mom, I left my stuff in the hall. Hi, Aunt Cara. Morning, Aunt Des. Where’s Buttons?”
<
br />   At the sound of her name, the dog leaped to Nikki, who knelt on the floor and let it kiss her face for as long as she wanted. “I’m going to miss you, pup. If I could find a way to get you into my suitcase, I would.”

  “She’ll be waiting here for you when you come back this summer,” Barney assured her.

  “We have to make Dad let me come back.” Nikki looked up at her mother. “This has been the best week ever, Mom. I wish I could stay with you.”

  “I know, sweetie.” Allie opened her arms and Nikki ran into them, the dog still held against her chest.

  “It’s so unfair. I hate that I can’t be in both places.”

  “A lot of people would like that magical ability.” Barney patted Nikki on the back as she passed by.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t know any of you till now.” Nikki wiped her eyes as she looked from one face to the other. “I have the coolest aunts in the world. It’s so hard to say goodbye. I feel like I’ve known you all forever, and I love you guys.”

  “We love you, too, Nikki,” Des told her.

  Allie teared up then, and Des handed her a tissue.

  “I’m going to do so much reading and research. Mom, I’m going to be your design assistant.”

  “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather work with.” Allie kissed her daughter’s head. “Now get some juice, we have to go. You need to be at the airport early before your flight, so we’ll have to grab breakfast there.”

  Within minutes, everyone was filing out the back door to say goodbye and load Nikki’s suitcase into the back of Cara’s car.

  Kisses and hugs all around, one last hug for Buttons, then Nikki was in the car, and they were disappearing down the driveway.

  “It’s going to take me a few days to get used to the quiet,” Barney said as they all stared down the now-empty street. “She brought so much life into this old house.”

  “She did.” Des sniffed.

  “Gonna miss the kid.”

  “Me too.”

 

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