The maddening Stan still had not called when Misty concluded her lessons at two o’clock.
When she reached for her cell phone to call him, Bill stopped her. “You’ve already left two messages. No sense hounding him, or he might change his mind about helping,” he said with irritating practicality.
Gunther arrived with Lunk in tow.
“Can’t leave him on account of he has taken to getting out. He’s been better until recently.” Gunther shot a look out the back window at Jellybean. “I blame that movie star dog. He’s a bad influence. Like a canine gangster or something.”
“But he’s not a bad actor,” Bill said. “You should have seen him earlier at the taxicab office. Completely pathetic.” They all watched Jellybean bounding in graceful hops across the yard in pursuit of a grasshopper.
Gunther let Lunk out. The dog waddled to the grass and immediately flopped in a patch of sunshine. Lunk remained immovable in the face of Jellybean’s relentless efforts to get him to play.
Gunther tied on his apron and surveyed the chocolate offerings. “You ain’t sold anything since I been here?”
“Well, we had to close the shop to go to Tidewater.”
“Might as well. Nobody in this town anyway ’cept for the residents.”
Bill shook his head. “We’re going to turn it all around next weekend when the Silver Screen Festival kicks off.”
Gunther flapped a hand as if he were shooing away flies. “Whatever you say, boss. I’m getting paid whether we sell anything or not.”
“That’s the spirit,” Bill said before turning to Misty. “I’m going to take Fiona to the park. Do you and Wonder Dog want come along?”
“But Stan might call.”
“You’ve got your cell phone. He might just as well call us there as here. I’ll pack peanut butter sandwiches.”
“I thought you only knew how to make chocolate,” she teased.
He grinned. “Very funny for someone who doesn’t like small talk.”
And it was, she was surprised to note. That was a humorous little phrase, right out of her very own mouth. Why did things feel easier when Bill was around? Even with Jack it had taken months to feel comfortable, like she didn’t have to weigh each comment for potential awkwardness, measure each response against the yardstick of social norms, peer at other women to see what she should be wearing, saying, eating. But Bill made it easy, or perhaps she allowed herself to relax around him. She tucked the thought away to ponder it later.
He fixed the sandwiches and grabbed a juice box for Fiona, and they set off, Fiona holding Jellybean’s new leash, the dog cheerfully dragging her in all directions as he sniffed every bush and plant on the way.
“It’s so quiet here,” Misty marveled as they traversed Main Street. Her upstairs San Francisco apartment was situated above a bustling intersection, so there was a constant cacophony of noise from delivery trucks, construction workers, and bicycle messengers weaving in and out of it all.
“Like it?”
The quiet? Did she? “I’ve always loved the city because of the activity. No one pays any attention to anyone else.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
It had always seemed to her that it was—hiding in plain sight. But now that she had that “shine your light” thing going on in her heart, she wasn’t sure anymore. She’d talked to more people in her short time in Albatross than she had in a year in San Francisco. The change was frightening, exhilarating, confusing. But not permanent, of course. The city and her apartment were waiting to receive her as soon as she managed to find Lawrence. She realized Bill was watching, head cocked, waiting for an answer.
“I’m not sure. The quiet is nice, for a while.”
Bill helped Fiona onto a swing, and Misty pushed her from behind.
Bill was thoughtful. “That’s kind of why I liked the ranch, in a way. Not having to schmooze or meet people’s expectations.”
“I would have thought you craved being around people. You’re so outgoing.”
He shrugged. “A defense mechanism. A good defense leads to a good offense.”
“Defense against what?” She thought of the picture with the tack rammed into it. What was that hint of shame that appeared and disappeared like a swiftly played note?
He shrugged. “Not important. Doesn’t matter anyway because I guess God wants me to be around people. He sure keeps drawing me into situations I never expected.”
“Like fatherhood?”
“For sure.” He pushed Fiona. “Okay, Fee. Time to learn to pump. You have to bend your legs on the upswing.” He tried to demonstrate, looking so ridiculous with his long legs bent at odd angles that Misty laughed out loud.
She got onto the swing next to Fiona and held on to the chains, leaning way back with her feet up. “Like this. Up…”
Fiona mimicked her, and Bill scooted around to give them both a push from behind.
“Now down!” Misty hollered, pantomiming for the child.
Fiona bicycled her legs up and down. Swing by feeble swing, she finally got the motion mastered, and soon she was zooming up into the sky under her own momentum. Misty swung too, thrilled by their victory. To her great delight, Bill hopped onto the remaining swing, and soon they were all three whizzing through the air, whooping and laughing.
Soon Fiona tired of the activity and hopped off to join Jellybean in his pursuit of a brown bird.
Bill swung high up and suddenly let go, hurtling into the air and landing on his feet in the sand. He threw up his hands. “A perfect ten!”
“For sure!” she called.
“Now you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah!” he yelled. “Jump, Misty.”
“I don’t think…”
“Don’t think. Just jump!”
Just jump. Let go of the chains and hurl yourself into the future, next to Bill.
As the beginnings of doubt and fear crept in, she shot forward on the swing, let go of the chains, and let the exhilarating rush of freedom carry her forward.
Her landing was not a perfect ten. She tumbled forward onto the sand, rolling over on her back in a shower of grit.
Bill was at her side in a moment, eyes wide.
He gently touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She blinked up at him, adrenaline still coursing through her veins, the freedom from fear still singing through her body. Fiona joined them, fingers in her mouth, and then Jellybean, sticking his wet nose in her ear.
Misty giggled and then laughed out loud until Bill joined in and even Fiona smiled around her fingers.
“Yes!” she declared. “I’m just fine.”
“Whew,” he said, helping her to her feet and brushing the sand out of her hair. “You scared me there for a second.” His hands grazed along her hair and her cheeks, and her heart thumped madly as he bent closer. He was not going to kiss her. Not Misty Agnelli, who had run from the town and saddled him with a rascally dog only a day before.
But he was still bending, still coming closer, until he pressed his lips to hers and hers pressed back, her head tipping upward toward the crystal blue of the sky, and the sun shining warmer than she’d ever known it could.
Until the sound of running feet made them jerk apart.
Dina was jogging along, earbuds in place. She came over and greeted them with a special warm hello for Fiona.
“Bill, I don’t want you to think I forgot about you. Can I come to the shop later so we can talk?”
His tongue felt slow and stupid. What would Misty make of his booking appointments with a preschool teacher? Would she know? Would she guess?
“Oh sure. Yeah. Anytime.”
“That’s a cute dog,” Dina said to Misty. “I heard it was Lawrence Tucker’s. Is he coming back soon?”
“We can only hope,” she said, the joyful abandonment on her face now gone. She was back to reserved, quiet Misty.
Dina smiled and jogged away. Misty’s phone rang.
Bill was not in full possession of his senses yet, his nerves still buzzing and humming from kissing Misty. Kissing her? He could not think why he had attempted such a thing. For all his easygoing charm, he was not one to strike up relationships with women. Not the kissing, “I want to hold you in my arms and feel your heart beating against mine” type of relationships.
But there he was, with his arms still aching for the feel of her, and there she was, clutching the phone as if it were a life preserver. The way she looked at him was somehow different now. Shaded with suspicion? His gut went cold. Too close. He’d come too close to letting her see.
“H-Hello?” Misty said, avoiding looking at Bill. She listened intently while he fussed over Fiona, fixing one of her hair ties until she squirmed out of his reach. Misty repocketed the phone. “Stan said he dropped Lawrence in Twin Pines. It’s about…”
“Forty-five minutes north of here.”
“Why is that name familiar?”
“Dunno, but it’s already four o’clock, and I have to prep for tomorrow. Okay to wait?”
She agreed.
“We could get going right after church in the morning. You, uh, want to go to the service with us? It starts at eight, and there are only about twenty-five in the congregation.”
Misty chewed her lip. “Oh, um…no. No, thank you. That’s a nice invitation, but I’m not…you know…” She trailed off. “No, thank you.”
She was not going to leap off any more swings for Bill Woodson or walk into a church full of people she didn’t know.
“Sure. Let’s meet at the shop at ten.” He went for the confident grin. “I’ll make more peanut butter sandwiches to take along.”
He eventually guided Jellybean back onto the sidewalk. “About that, um, kiss. I was too forward. I apologize.”
She flushed. “It’s okay. These things happen.”
It won’t happen again. The thought took away the warmth he’d felt only a moment before.
It’s a smart thing to stay away from Misty. For once in your life, why don’t you try to be smart?