Chapter Fifteen

As a decadent morsel of cheesecake drizzled with strawberry sauce tickled Lori’s taste buds, she looked around the grassy area. Apparently, one of the Spade and Hope Garden Club members owned the Alpine Nursery in Perry and had offered up a large expanse of lawn with a large pond next to it, nestled in the trees, for their annual each-member-may-bring-one-friend potluck dinner.

She counted five tables in all, five people seated at each. Two long tables had been pushed together, end to end, to hold the food.

She’d caught a ride with Agatha, and they were seated at a center table with Agatha’s gardening cohorts: Victoria, Lisa Anne, and Norma. All past sixty, all gardening experts, and all—except for an amused Agatha—impressed with Lori’s supposed expertise as the Garden Guru substitute.

Her expectations of a slow-paced evening had been realized, but she was so grateful for the help she didn’t mind. And the dinner itself was delicious, consisting of each woman’s specialty dish: salads of all kinds, two soups, many casseroles, punch, and dessert.

Now Lori took the last bite of her cheesecake, savored the flavors, and sighed. “Fabulous.”

Lisa Anne, a wrinkled, tight-curled, blue-haired woman in her eighties, smiled. “I do love a girl with a hearty appetite.”

In her seventies, Norma tossed her stylishly cut and dyed—Lori assumed—dark brown hair. “I prefer the peach pie myself.”

Victoria, the youngest at sixty-four, radiated sadness. Her eyes showed pain and she couldn’t seem to work up a smile. “I used to have a good appetite.”

Agatha motioned dramatically. “I told Lori you ladies would be generous with your best zucchini recipes.”

Norma patted her dark hair. “She ought to get the recipe from—”

Agatha shook her head as she interrupted. “No use. We need to share some of ours.”

Lori nearly chuckled. She hadn’t figured out Agatha yet, other than that she was an eccentric lady.

Victoria said, with a hint of Eeyore’s mope in her voice, “I’d be glad to share my zucchini-strawberry cake recipe. Maybe you could all come to my house and I’ll fix it for you.”

Agatha shot Lori a glance and said, “We’d love to. Just let us know which day.”

“I’ll look at my calendar and call you,” Victoria said, with the first hint of excitement she’d shown since Lori arrived forty-five minutes ago.

“No one has even noticed,” Norma said impatiently, patting her hair. “Do you like what my hairdresser did this time?”

Agatha snorted. “I preferred the red.”

“Not me,” said Lisa Anne. “I like the brown. It flatters your face, Norma.”

“No, no, no.” Agatha shook her head. “It ages you, hon. The red took ten years off your face.”

“Really?” Norma tilted her head, as if studying that thought. “Well, then I’d better go red again.”

Better red than blue, Lori thought, looking around.

Agatha turned to Victoria. “How have you been doing?”

Victoria sighed. “I’ve been very lonely.”

Agatha explained to Lori, “Victoria’s husband passed away three months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Lori.

Victoria sighed. “I know it sounds horrible, but I’m angry at Ted for leaving me alone. I’m so angry at him, and I miss him so very much.”

Lori was struck, out of the blue, with the woman’s loss.

Agatha patted Victoria’s hand. “It’ll get better with time.”

“The counselor says I’m still stuck in the anger phase of grief.” Victoria sighed and forced a faint smile. “I don’t want to be stuck, but it’s hard to get out.”

A horrible thought slammed Lori. Could she be stuck in a stage of grief? The first stage of anger? Thirteen years after her father left? She blinked. No, surely not.

A woman stood and, over the clatter and chatter, invited everyone over to look at a huge sure-to-be-prize-winning tomato.

As the women at their table rose to their feet, Agatha asked Lori, “Would you like to join our little club?”

Lori nodded. “Yes. Though I’m certainly not in the same league as these ladies.”

“They’re quite competitive about their gardening skills, aren’t they?” As the other women wandered off, Agatha lowered her voice. “Most of ’em are all talk. Don’t you worry about a thing, sweetie. I’ll help you keep your secret.”

~

Tossing her purse on the bed, Lori pushed the speed-dial number for Marti.

“About time you called. I am going absolutely crazy here with my family.”

Lori laughed. “You love your family. In fact, you married far too young so you could start said family, remember?”

“Well, tonight I’ve had just about enough of them, thank you very much.”

“What’s up?”

“Where do I begin? Bryce got his Wood Badge for his work as a Scout leader and so the kids and I went to his award ceremony. We were assigned the punch, and I’d already discovered a big dried punch stain on the front of my dress earlier in the day. I washed it out—only when we drove to the church, more punch leaked out of the container onto my dress. In the same exact spot.”

“Oh, Marti, I’m so sorry.” Lori made a sympathetic sound, which, unfortunately, sounded a lot like a chuckle.

“Oh, wait. That’s not the worst of it. We got the big jug all set up on the table and I was helping a few kids push the button and hold their cups underneath and then, in some sort of freak accident, one of the kids holds his cup just wrong and the spray hits his cup wrong—and the punch shoots right into my shoes.”

“Oh, no.” Lori couldn’t suppress a laugh. “That’s awful.”

“When Bryce asked me how I was, I said my feet were sticky. So he said I was the most beautiful sticky-footed woman there.”

“Ahhh, how sweet.”

Marti’s voice softened. “Yeah. He is pretty sweet.”

“So I guess you didn’t make a total mistake marrying him when you were twenty.”

“No, I guess not.” Her voice lightened. “So how are you?”

“You’ll never guess, not in a million years, what I’ve been doing.”

“With you, probably not. So just tell me. I’m much too frazzled tonight to play guessing games.”

Lori laughed. “I’m now officially dating the firefighter.”

“And . . . ?”

“And what?”

“Come on. I know that tone of voice, Lori Scott. What have you been doing that you’re not telling me?”

Lori sighed. “If I tell you, you’ve got to promise not to say a single word about it. To anyone.”

“I promise. Stop driving me crazy, already.”

Lori paused, still amazed herself. “I’ve been reading the Book of Mormon. I’m in Second Nephi.”

There was silence for a beat. “You’d make a wonderful Mormon. I’ve always said you ought to try it sometime. Remember those fun activities we went to? Where John Fullmer had all the girls gaga with crushes?”

“Yeah, him and Byron Kinser.” Lori had fun memories of the Young Adult activities she’d attended with Marti, though she’d drawn the line at going to church on Sunday.

They chatted for fifteen more minutes before Marti said, “Duty calls. I’ve gotta go. Oh, and I’ve tried calling you several times this afternoon. Is your phone on silent again?”

“Oh, darn. I switched it to silent earlier this morning when I went to the library.” Which could explain why she hadn’t heard from John today.

“Well, turn it back on. And I’ll definitely call you in a few days to check on your very strange behavior. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

“Bye, Marti.” Lori checked her phone, changing it from silent to soft. There were eight missed calls—three from Marti and five from John, scattered throughout the past seven hours. He’d been trying to reach her all day.

Quickly, she pushed reply. The hardest part about his schedule was seeing him for four days straight and then not at all for another two. She missed him, which surprised her.

The call rang through and, after three rings, was answered—but not by John. It was a woman’s voice. “Hello?”

“Um, hello.” Lori paused, a little disoriented. Wondering if she’d reached a wrong number, she pulled the phone back. The number was correct; it was the one she’d been using for weeks. “May I speak with John Walker?”

“May I tell him who’s calling?”

“Lori Scott,” she said reluctantly.

“Oh. This is Dawn Lawson. I met you at church.”

What is Dawn doing answering John’s cell phone?

“Sorry, but John can’t come to his phone right now,” Dawn said.

What is John doing with Dawn? Lori wondered. And why is she obviously lying to me?

Dawn continued. “He’s fixing a faucet for me, and then he’ll be staying for dinner. I’ll tell him you called, though.” There was a challenge in those words, and Lori would bet money that any message left would most definitely not be passed on to John.

There was silence for a few beats.

Lori could barely think straight. What was she supposed to do now?

Finally, she shook herself. “No, thanks. He’s already called five times, so I’m sure he’ll call me back later. Or I’ll just call him later.” Way later. If at all.

“Bye,” Dawn said, and Lori could hear the hostility underlying her silky voice.

Lori was feeling some hostility herself at the moment, along with a great deal of flaming jealousy and a lot of confusion.

Hadn’t John said he wanted to date Lori exclusively? Was the challenge over for him this easily? She’d said yes, they’d dated for two weeks, and now he’d started dating everyone else again? Without telling her?

Or was it just Dawn he’d started dating again?

She tried to reason herself out of her upset. She’d already known John was dating other women—but not since their exclusive agreement. In fact, that was a good thing, because it proved he wasn’t going to get too emotionally involved with her.

If it’s such a good thing, then why am I so upset?

She drew in a deep breath and tried to take a step back emotionally. She needed to remember that they were just friends. Even if she really liked him. Even if he’d used the word “exclusive.” She’d learned the hard way that words meant nothing to guys.

She decided it was actually a good thing she’d had this reminder to stay emotionally uninvolved, even if she continued to date John non-exclusively. She wasn’t about to get hurt again.

And, judging from her strong reaction to his cell phone being answered by an old flame, Lori suspected that, if she let herself get too involved with him, John would have the power to hurt her like no other man before him had done. Except her father, of course.

But maybe she was jumping to conclusions. She needed to see what John said—or didn’t say—about being over at Dawn’s house.

That’s what she’d do. She’d let John take the lead. If he was honest about it, she might continue dating him.

But if he lied, he could forget about seeing her ever again.

~

With his torso crammed under the kitchen sink and his hands on the wrench, John tightened the pipe. He hadn’t been under there long, but long enough to hear his cell phone ring in his jacket pocket in the living room a few minutes before. And then stop ringing.

Probably Lori. And there was no way he would ask Dawn to bring him his phone so he could answer Lori’s call with Dawn listening in.

With one last twist, he was done. Standing, he set the wrench on the counter and washed his hands.

Dawn came in, beaming. “You’re finished? That was fast.”

He nodded. She looked pretty tonight. Too pretty. Her long red hair curled down her back. Her figure was more curvaceous than Lori’s, and she looked great in her jeans and USU T-shirt. She’d just graduated in the spring, but had stayed on to teach for a year, probably because she’d been dating John. Her light flowery scent made him very aware of her presence.

“John, you are so handy to have around.” She practically purred the words.

Her admiration and smile lit the kitchen. She made him feel good about himself, and that made him very uncomfortable. She obviously didn’t feel the least bit of discomfort. But then she hadn’t promised to date someone else exclusively.

His mouth was dry. “Where’s your aunt?”

“She went visiting teaching tonight.” Dawn flipped on the light in the breakfast nook area, revealing a table set for two, complete with candles. A cozy, intimate, romantic dinner for two. “I fixed you a steak. To repay you for your help.”

She lit the candles and turned back to him with an inviting smile.

He thought of Lori, waiting for him to pick her up and take her to dinner. He really couldn’t stay. He didn’t dare. He and Dawn had too much history between them.

The pause lengthened before he finally said, “I really can’t tonight, Dawn. But thanks.”

She pouted. “You have to go? Now? You just got off shift.”

He nodded.

“Please stay, John.” And with that, she started to blink and it looked like she might cry.

Oh, no. He hated it when women did that. What was he supposed to do? He felt totally unprepared for dealing with this. “Dawn, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand. Don’t you like me anymore?” A couple of tears rolled down her cheeks and she brushed them away.

“Yes, I do,” said John. He stopped. She knew he was dating Lori, but she didn’t know how much he had come to care for her. Or the promise of exclusivity he’d made. He had to tell her. Now, you idiot!

Dawn took a deep breath and smiled, though it looked a little wobbly. “If you have to go, you have to go. We can get together another time. Maybe this weekend. But I have to tell you I’m very disappointed. I spent a lot of time preparing this meal for you. And you never said we weren’t dating anymore.”

“No, I didn’t.” Why couldn’t he just tell her? He needed to really, truly, once and for all break it off with Dawn. He just didn’t know if he could do it. It had been painful enough for them both the last time when he’d only said he wanted to date someone else.

“I would really appreciate it if you stayed for dinner, John.”

She looked up into his eyes, and he could see the hurt there, hurt that he’d caused her.

He forced a smile. This was harder than he’d ever imagined. She waited without speaking, and the silence got to him. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Dawn.”

She smiled, radiantly happy at his words. “I’m so glad.”

So much for telling the truth, for finding Lori and taking her to dinner, for escaping. He’d just have to hope Lori would wait for him. And that she wouldn’t ask too many questions when he showed up late, because he wouldn’t be able to lie to her.

As Dawn motioned him to a seat and served him a grilled steak, baked potato, and salad, he struggled to come up with the right words to use to break things off. Tonight. Right now.

Finally, halfway through his steak, baked potato, and salad, he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to say something. “This is delicious.”

That wasn’t going to help matters. He paused, hoping for inspiration that didn’t arrive. The pause lengthened uncomfortably.

Quietly, she placed her fork on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “But . . . ?”

“I’m very sorry. I’m dating Lori now,” he blurted out, glad he’d said the words at last. He let out a long breath. He stood up clumsily, nearly knocking over the chair. He had to get out of here.

“We talked about that last time, and I’m trying to adjust to that reality. You don’t have to remind me over and over. It’s hard enough to deal with.” She stood and touched his sleeve.

Oh, no. He had to say it again, had to use different words, because she hadn’t understood. Would this nightmare never end? He stayed standing and took a step away from the table. Away from her. “No. I mean I’m dating her . . . exclusively.”

She blinked her eyes and bowed her head.

Oh, please, he thought, don’t let her cry.

But she didn’t cry. Instead, she seemed to pull herself together with great dignity. She walked toward her front door, opened it, and turned back to him.

“Perhaps you’ll change your mind after she’s returned to New York. When you do, I’ll still be here.”

He walked toward her, toward the open door, toward escape.

As he stepped within inches of her, Dawn lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eyes. “In the meantime, I’m not going anywhere. I love you, John.”

~

Fifteen minutes later, John stood on Lori’s front porch. The El Camino sat in the open, detached garage, so he figured she was home. He was so glad he’d finally told Dawn the truth, even if he hadn’t been able to convince her he really meant it. He’d finally had to just say good-bye and leave her in the past.

And now he pushed the bell for what he hoped could be his future. His inability to commit had disappeared about the same moment as he’d met Lori.

Standing on the porch, he appreciated the light breeze. The day had been a scorcher, even for early August, but no more so than his talk with Dawn.

He wouldn’t accept any more invitations from Dawn—to help or to do anything else—and Lori didn’t need to know about this time, either. Though she might be upset because he was an hour late.

Lori opened the door. With her short blonde hair feathering around her pixie face, she looked gorgeous. She was more slender than Dawn and wore an elegant black outfit with slacks and sandals with high heels.

Relieved to be here with her, without any other entanglements, he grinned, Dawn’s face already fading. “Hi, beautiful. Sorry I’m late. Ready for dinner?”

She didn’t return his smile, but said, coolly, “I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”

“My shift ended tonight. I thought I told you.”

She didn’t open the door for him to step in. “You did.”

Okay, so she liked punctuality. He’d have to remember that. “I thought we were going to dinner tonight.”

“And I thought we were exclusively dating. And that we had dinner plans tonight.”

“We are. We do. I tried to call you. Several times.”

“I’m surprised you’re up for more food after eating at Dawn Lawson’s house.”

With a sinking heart, he wondered how she’d found out so quickly. “Did you call my cell earlier?”

“I had a delightful chat with Dawn, who considers you very much her property, you know.”

“I can explain. When I first met you, I told Dawn we needed to date other people.”

“Ah, so you were a couple then.”

“Since you and I started dating officially, I haven’t dated Dawn or called her. Tonight I told her about my exclusive arrangement with you.”

“On your date with her? Oh, don’t worry about it. I won’t either, now that I realize how these exclusive things work here in Utah. By the way, do you own a dictionary? You might want to look up the word exclusive, which comes after dating and before polygamy.” She shrugged. “But you don’t owe me any kind of explanation. It’s not like we’re engaged.”

He shut his eyes for the briefest moment. In her voice, he could hear the hurt and anger. He needed to help her understand she could trust him. He wasn’t like her father. He wouldn’t lie to her. “Lori, I do have to explain. I only went over there tonight because Dawn called me and said she needed her faucet fixed. I didn’t know she’d planned dinner until after I arrived. And then I didn’t know how to get out of it.”

“How convenient that you have an excuse.” Her words were glacial. No global warming problem in this house.

He was wishing for a few sparks right about now. The woman he’d broken up with wanted him desperately. And the woman he wanted to date was more distant than ever.

He had to say something that would convince her he was telling the truth or this romance might be over before it had truly begun.