Love in San Francisco ; Unconditionally

by Shirley Hailstock

  “I finally stumped you, huh?”

  “You did. Do you want me to pass it by Mina? She may have a suggestion.”

  “No, I’ll figure it out,” Leo told him. “It’s my fight.”

  “The wedding’s soon,” Jake said. “Get busy.”

  “That’s all I need, more pressure,” Leo groused. “Goodbye. Give my best to the lovely Mina.”

  “Will do,” Jake said and hung up.

  Leo put the phone down on the island’s countertop and sat perched on one of the high wooden stools, suddenly feeling hopeless. Mr. Darcy? Him?

  He racked his brain, thinking back to that Saturday afternoon, trying to recall when he’d behaved haughtily or had done anything that could be construed as arrogant or unfeeling. No, he couldn’t remember any of that kind of behavior on his part. He’d even downplayed his success as a writer. Fact was, he was doing pretty well. Not raking in millions, but his savings account had grown fat from his book earnings. It had to have been that I’m too old for you remark he’d made. Meghan had apparently interpreted that to mean he just didn’t like her. Which was far from the truth. He couldn’t get her off his mind.

  He got up and went to his bedroom to get dressed. He had to do something about their miscommunication. The question was, what? He cleared his throat. Why was his throat feeling sore and scratchy? He never got sick. He prided himself on taking good care of himself. Running, weight lifting, long hikes. The heart doctors had always told him he needed to keep his heart muscle in shape. That included eating right and exercising.

  He shrugged out of his robe and hung it behind the door in the bathroom of the master bedroom. Was it hotter in the house than normal? He placed his hand on his forehead. He felt a little warmer than usual. But how could he accurately tell when he didn’t have a thermometer in the house? Parents kept thermometers to monitor their kids’ temperatures during illnesses. He’d never had a need for one.

  Then he thought back to his trip to Florida. He’d taken a long run in the Florida sunshine without his shirt on. The temperature had been in the mideighties, not unusual for November in Florida. But when he’d gotten back to North Carolina, the temperature was in the low fifties. He had just run five miles in fifty-two-degree weather. Could the temperature change have weakened his immune system enough to allow a nasty virus to catch hold?

  He chuckled, remembering his mother’s warning when she’d seen him leaving the house bare chested. “Put on a shirt, baby. You don’t want to catch a cold.”

  But he’d had that encouraging talk with his dad, and he’d felt so strong and invincible that he’d thrown his mother a confident kiss and continued right on out the door.

  After he’d put on jeans and a T-shirt, he glanced in the bathroom mirror and smiled at his reflection. He certainly didn’t look sick. His black beard was still damp from the shower, and the water droplets made it shine even more. His brown eyes were clear. No reddening at all. He was fine.

  He told himself that for four days straight.

  By Friday morning, though, he had to admit he was certifiably sick. He had body aches and was feverish. Worst of all was his lack of energy. He was used to being very active. But this morning he’d had to drag himself out of bed in order to feed poor Malcolm and let him outside to relieve himself.

  Malcolm, so grateful to have been let out, tried to lick his master’s face in gratitude when he came back inside, and Leo prevented him, saying, “Better stay away from me, boy. I doubt if you can catch this, but who knows?”

  Malcolm had whined, looked at him sorrowfully and, finally resigned to no playtime, trotted back over to his favorite spot by the fireplace in the living room and lay down.

  Leo trudged back to the sofa and lay down. The coffee table nearby held tissues, water bottles and cold medicine that he’d been faithfully taking every four hours.

  He felt miserable. He hadn’t caught a cold in years. Maybe he was getting old, after all. Maybe the fates had conspired against him. Maybe you ought to quit being melodramatic, he told himself, and stop acting like a baby.

  As soon as he got settled in a comfortable spot, his cell phone rang. He dug it out from between the sofa cushions. How it had gotten there, he didn’t know. The display read Mina.

  “Mina, what’s up?”

  The first thing out of her mouth was “You sound terrible. You caught a cold in Florida, huh?”

  What is it with women and their sixth sense about colds? Leo wondered. He laughed shortly, “I’m afraid so.”

  “Flu’s been bad this year. You’d better take care of yourself. Speaking of which—do you have everything you need to fight it? Chicken soup? Plenty of liquids? Cold medicine?”

  “I’m good, really, Mina,” Leo tried to claim. Although the sympathetic tone in his soon-to-be sister-in-law’s voice made him feel a little less alone.

  “I’m sending someone over,” Mina said decisively. “Don’t even try to argue with me.” She cut him off when he tried to say something.

  Leo fleetingly wondered who Mina, who lived in the mountains, could command to come check on him. He was beginning to wonder just how powerful these Gaines girls were. Jake had told him some stories that were hard to believe. Like Petra lived in an African jungle. Lauren had saved her ex-husband’s life when a crazed woman tried to kill him. To say nothing of Mina rescuing Jake from a plane crash. What was to be his Gaines girl’s miraculous feat? He wanted to be there to find out.

  Even though Mina had warned him not to argue with her, he had to give it his best shot when she told him what she was planning. “You’re not serious about sending Meghan over here, are you?”

  Mina laughed, “Leo, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Just take the gift.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

  “It isn’t you she’s coming to see,” Mina said, sounding mysterious. “Now, make yourself presentable and expect company soon.”

  “Mina?” Leo tried. But she had hung up on him.

  * * *

  Meghan was walking across campus to her car when her phone started ringing. She had taught her last class of the day and was looking forward to getting home, unwinding and starting a pot of homemade chicken soup, which she’d been craving for weeks. For some reason, when the weather was cold she wanted comfort food like thick homemade soups in her system.

  At school, she dressed professionally. No jeans for her. Today she had on a dark gray skirt suit with black pumps and accessories. Her wavy black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her briefcase was in one hand, her shoulder bag tossed over her right shoulder and her laptop in its case in the other hand. She set the laptop on the Mustang’s roof when she got to the car, and dug into her shoulder bag to answer the persistently ringing cell phone.

  “Mina, are you okay?”

  “Why is it you always think something’s wrong if I call you on a workday?” Mina asked.

  “It’s just my anxious nature,” Meghan said. She was the youngest of the Gaines girls, but the biggest worrywart. She mothered her sisters much more than they mothered her.

  “It’s about Leo.” Mina dropped the bomb and waited for Meghan to respond.

  “What about Mr. Darcy?” she asked warily.

  Meghan was trying to sound uninterested, but she knew she couldn’t fool her sister and mask how intensely interested she was in what Mina had to say next.

  “He’s sick,” Mina said.

  It took about five seconds for Meghan to cry, “With what? Mina, don’t play with me, girl.”

  Mina laughed, “Then you do care! Calm down. It’s just a cold.”

  Meghan sighed, “Of course I care. He’s the one who doesn’t care. I thought we were clear on that.”

  “Nothing’s been clear between you and Leo since you met,” Mina told her. “But that’s neither here nor there. I’m calling because while he’s si
ck, he’s having a problem taking care of his puppy. He’s a nine-month-old chocolate Lab called Malcolm.”

  “They’re adorable,” Meghan said breathlessly.

  “So I wondered if you’d go over to Leo’s and pick him up and keep him for a few days while Leo recovers. You two aren’t that far away from each other, according to Google Maps. Only about twenty minutes.”

  “You do have an eye for detail,” Meghan said.

  “It’s my army training,” Mina said. “Oh, and while you’re over there, maybe you can take him something to eat. What are you cooking today?”

  “Who said I was cooking today?”

  “Girl, I know you’re going to have something good cooking on your stove shortly after you get home from work. And it’s cold outside, too. What is it? Chili? Vegetable soup? You and Lauren make some damn good beef vegetable soup.”

  “Chicken soup,” Meghan said, laughing softly. “You know me too well.”

  “I hear it’s good for a cold,” Mina said.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” Meghan said at last. “But I can’t promise I’m going to have one good word for Mr. Darcy.”

  “Actions speak louder than words,” Mina said.

  * * *

  By the time Meghan rang the doorbell at Leo’s circa 1960s renovated cottage in a quaint neighborhood near Duke University in Durham, Leo had showered to get the smell of Vicks VapoRub ointment, which his mother highly recommended, off his body, put on fresh pajamas, brushed his teeth and straightened up the house. Although there wasn’t much to clean up because he was compulsively neat. Another of his psychological quirks. Life was messy and disorganized, but at least he could keep his personal space neat and clean.

  He answered the door almost immediately, and restrained himself from looking too glad to see her. Because he was definitely happy to see her. She, too, he could see, was going to play it cool. Dressed in jeans, boots and a black leather jacket under which she had on a gold-colored blouse that complemented her creamy, flawless brown skin, she had an insulated food container in one hand, her shoulder bag slung over her right shoulder and a pet carrier in her other hand.

  She looked him straight in the eyes. “Hello, Leo. Mina told me you needed help with Malcolm until you feel better.” She stepped into the room and he moved aside, inhaling the fresh, sensual smell of her skin and hair.

  He closed and locked the door. Then he realized he hadn’t said a word, and felt foolish and inadequate in her presence. One part of him hadn’t really believed she’d show up. Now that she had, he didn’t know what to do about it.

  “She did?” he asked, confused.

  Meghan set the pet carrier down, and he noticed the cute cocker spaniel inside. “You brought me another pet?”

  “I brought Chauncey over so she and Malcolm can get to know each other on his home turf before he comes home with me,” Meghan said. “Mina told me to come over here and pick up Malcolm so that I can take care of him until you recover.”

  Her eyes raked over him and a soft sigh escaped from between her lips. Lips that were entirely too delicious looking to his feverish eyes. He could tell he was making her impatient. But what had Mina been thinking, telling Meghan he needed her to come pick up Malcolm and telling him quite another thing? Actually Mina hadn’t told him much of anything. Obviously, she was just throwing them together and letting them figure out what to do. It was sink or swim.

  So he started swimming.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry. My brain is just not functioning at full capacity right now.” He met her gaze. “Thank you for agreeing to take him. He’s only a puppy and he needs a lot of care.”

  Meghan tossed her shoulder bag onto the sofa, put the insulated food container on the coffee table and then bent to take Chauncey out of her pet carrier. Meanwhile, Malcolm had come closer to investigate, tail wagging with enthusiasm.

  As soon as Meghan let Chauncey out she went straight to Malcolm and started cautiously sniffing around his furry brown face. Malcolm stood still and let her, trembling with excitement.

  Leo sat down on the sofa, smiling and shaking his head in wonder. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time,” he told Meghan.

  * * *

  Meghan took her jacket off and looked around. She liked the midcentury aspects of Leo’s house. Upon entering the house she was delighted with how spacious it was. There were large windows that she imagined brought in a lot of natural light in the daytime and the way he’d decorated the place, the various living areas maintained their distinctive functions. The floors were hardwood, the finishes high quality and the kitchen ultramodern but still homey. She’d expected Mr. Darcy’s space to be cold and impersonal. It was neat, but warm and welcoming.

  She walked over and hung her jacket on a coat tree by the front door. Turning back around, she saw Chauncey and Malcolm nudging each other with their noses in a friendly manner. No growls or baring of teeth.

  She looked at Leo, who was looking at the dogs and smiling. She decided then that if Malcolm and Chauncey could get along, so could she and Leo.

  She was a mature woman, after all. Not a schoolgirl with a crush. Therefore, she smiled when she walked over to the sofa and sat down on the other end from Leo. “How are you feeling?”

  His eyes raked appreciatively over her face. He gently smiled. “Terrible.”

  He had dark circles under his eyes, which were watery, no doubt from the effects of the cold. But otherwise, he was as handsome as ever. Her heartbeat hadn’t calmed down yet from her first glimpse of him after several weeks. She willed it to slow. “Are you hungry?”

  “Famished.”

  She smiled. “Good. I made chicken soup.”

  “You made it from scratch?” He sounded surprised.

  “It’s homemade, yes,” she said, rising. “I’ll get you a bowl. I forgot saltines. Do you have any?”

  * * *

  “Top shelf, pantry,” he said, his eyes following her as she picked up the chicken soup in its container and went to his kitchen. He watched her, in his kitchen, in his house, as she wasted no time locating a bowl and the crackers in the pantry. She looked so competent and relaxed. It was almost as if she were over here every day, doing mundane things like this.

  Malcolm and Chauncey were chasing each other around with abandon. “Chauncey, behave yourself,” Meghan called from the kitchen. Leo was surprised when Chauncey continued playing with Malcolm but in a slower and gentler manner, as if she fully understood Meghan’s words.

  “How long have you had her?” he asked Meghan.

  “She was six months old when I adopted her a year and a half ago,” Meghan replied. She walked back over to the sofa with a bowl of soup, saltine crackers and a bottle of water on the tray he kept on a shelf in the pantry.

  She set the tray before him. She’d wrapped a napkin around a soup spoon. “You don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

  “No, I’m good.” Leo tasted the soup. “Mmm, it’s delicious.”

  “Thank you,” Meghan said, pleased.

  “Go on, tell me more about Chauncey.”

  “I got Miss Chauncey from the pound. I took one look at her and she took one look at me, and it was love at first sight. I can’t imagine life without her. She’s very smart and affectionate. Very protective, too. We were in the park one day and this guy approached me, and she got between us and wouldn’t let him near me. He was trying to talk to me, and she kept growling at him. Wouldn’t be quiet even when I ordered her to. He finally walked off, and not two minutes later he snatched an elderly lady’s purse and ran off. She was all right. I waited with her until the police came and gave them a description of the guy.”

  Leo ate his soup, listening intently while she talked. The soup was wonderful, made with big chunks of boneless chicken in a savory broth with carrots, celery, tomatoes, potatoes, sweet onions, jalapeño peppers
, red pepper flakes and okra. He loved the added okra, which was a surprise to him, but it made the broth thick and hearty.

  “Did they catch him?”

  “Oh, they sure did,” Meghan said, glancing at Chauncey with pride.

  Chauncey and Malcolm had settled down in Malcolm’s favorite spot, Malcolm displaying his belly to her. Leo laughed. “What is up with him?” he asked, puzzled by Malcolm’s behavior.

  “I think he’s welcoming her to his house,” Meghan said. “Some dogs display their bellies to other dogs they consider to be higher ranking or more experienced. He’s showing respect.”

  Chauncey responded by nudging Malcolm back onto his feet, and they started chasing each other around the room again.

  “Then what’s she telling him?” Leo asked, looking Meghan in the eyes.

  Meghan smiled at him. “To stop being foolish? Miss Chauncey doesn’t go in for rules and such. She just likes to have fun.”

  “Some of us humans should follow her example,” Leo said. “Like a certain Mr. Darcy?”

  At that moment, with that tender expression on his bearded face and the warmth emanating between them, all she wanted to do was hug him. But she didn’t dare.

  “So you’ve heard about that. I’m sorry if the nickname is hurtful. I didn’t mean it to be. Darcy happens to be one of my all-time favorite romantic heroes.”

  “I’m an English professor,” Leo said. “I’ve read all of Jane Austen’s novels. I enjoyed them in spite of the fact that she tends to make dunces out of the men.”

  “Is she really making dunces out of the men, or are men just naturally dunces?” Meghan asked with a smile.

  Leo laughed, “I can see you’re a die-hard Austen fan.”

  Meghan was laughing, too. “I’m also a die-hard Jeremiah Jacobs fan. Has he written anything lately?”

  Leo was happy to tell her that he, in fact, had been writing again. He didn’t tell her that she was his muse, though. He’d save that bit of information for later. Perhaps as a romantic gesture, he would let her read it before anyone else once he’d finished.