Chapter Seventeen

The house was dark and still when they entered, and Kit darted across the wooden floor to flip on the kitchen light. In the golden hue Shane watched her with a new understanding. She felt it, too. He could tell. Something had switched in them tonight the same way the house had gone from dark to light with the touch of one finger.

“I, uh, think I’m going to place a FaceTime call to Dana,” he said. Maybe he’d get lucky, and she’d be available. He’d decided, and he didn’t know when he had actually formed the thought, that he was going to pin Dana down about their relationship. It wasn’t just about the man’s watch he had spied on her nightstand or her never being available. He had questions for her that went beyond those things. Was she happy? Was this relationship what they wanted it to be? He had those questions for himself as well. He also needed to tell her more about his living arrangement. Now that feelings were creeping in on the situation, telling Dana could not wait.

****

The call connected, and Dana’s image appeared on the screen. She wore a white terry robe and her hair was up on her head in a sloppy bunch. Sans makeup, she was still pretty, and he’d never seen the need for her to apply such a ritual to her face each day. Yet she was in the beauty business, so maybe it was more of a need on her part.

“Hey, stranger,” Shane said.

“Hi, Shane.” Her smile did not meet her blue eyes. “How’s it going?”

“I’ve been wanting to talk,” he began.

“About?”

“Well, first off I wanted to tell you the story about my temporary-living situation.”

“The apartment on the green with no balcony and no view. You told me.”

“No, that’s not until September. I needed to find housing from now until then. Remember? I told you.”

She twisted her mouth. “Yes, of course. Okay. You’ve rented a room in Sycamore River until the apartment’s ready. Sorry, my mind’s all over the place these days. So how is it working out?”

Since it seemed as if she’d only half listened when he told her the first time, he reminded her how his coming to rent Kit’s loft came to be. He told her how he had paid for the three months in advance. That set something off in her.

She moved her chair closer to her screen and pulled her lips in on themselves. “How much did you give her?”

“Two thousand dollars.”

“Are you serious, Shane?”

She chastised him again about his impulsivity. She reiterated how she had tried telling him that joining the Sycamore River Fire Department and moving to the quiet community were rash decisions.

“You act first and think later all the time, Shane.”

Granted, he hadn’t really discussed becoming a paid fireman with her, but he’d known how she’d react. And he’d been right. She went into her rationale again about wanting him to finish his degree.

“You only have a year left.” Her tone was incredulous. “You could do most of that online these days.”

“But then what, Dana? Get some office job and push paper around all day? It just isn’t me. How can you not know that by now?”

Now it seemed silly he’d thought she would turn her feelings around once she came home and saw how happy he was to be a full-time fireman. Doubt grew stronger with each day. She was finding her Milan trip so successful and was all revved up about new possibilities. How would she ever be happy in a little town like this after getting an offer to live and work in Italy? Tonight reality stood in front of him like a roommate.

“Dana, when you get back, I think we need to have a conversation.”

Her mouth twisted to the side. She unfastened her hair, and it cascaded down around her shoulders. She gave her head a shake. “No time like the present, Shane.” She leaned in closer to the screen, her eyes imploring. “Say what you have to say.”

He paused but shook his head. “Not now.”

A blinking of light flashed under the closed door behind her. From past FaceTime sessions, he knew the door went to her bathroom.

“A light just went on in your bathroom.”

“What?” She jerked herself around.

“Is someone in there?”

She faced the screen again. Her mouth opened, then closed again. “Shane, I…”

“Look, Dana, be honest with me. I don’t know who’s in there or why. Right now, frankly, I don’t really care. But shouldn’t we just admit we’re heading in different directions?”

She touched a finger to her lips. “Frankly, you don’t care? Is that what you just said?”

He blew out a long breath. “You don’t need to repeat my words back to me. If there’s something going on with some other guy, I wish you’d have been straight with me about it. That’s all.”

She tilted her head and studied him. “You don’t seem too bothered by the idea.” Her gaze softened. “Living here in Milan, an offer to change companies, it’s all so much. I think I’m conflicted.”

No reply would have been productive. He had been feeling a disconnect with Dana for some time, and in just a few short days, he had been reevaluating everything. How much of that had to do with his brunette landlord, he couldn’t even wrap his brain around. So in that respect, how could he be angry with Dana for having conflicted feelings?

“Let’s do this.” She cleared her throat. “Maybe we should just take this time apart to be on our own. You know, live our lives, and then when I’m back, we’ll see where we are.”

“I’m pretty sure I already see where we are.”

“It’s just that…”

“Dana, we don’t need to rehash what’s gotten us here.” He shrugged. “Here we are.”

She pulled her mouth in a downward curve. “Here we are.”

****

After the call ended, Shane looked around his temporary home. The loft was arranged with an economy of his belongings, with most of his stuff piled up in boxes in the storage unit. A warm glow of light filtered up from the lower level. He heard Kit moving around down there and closed his eyes. Right now he needed to separate himself from all of this. The call with Dana had been disturbing yet resolute. He still needed to process what had transpired, and spending more time with Kit tonight would do him no good. He knew that much. He was already too mixed up.

He picked up his cell phone and found Larry’s number in his contacts.

“Hey, Irish,” Larry said when he answered the call.

“Hi, Larry. What are you up to?”

“Just got off my shift, so I stopped for a beer at Jabberwocky’s.”

“Want some company?”

“Sure, come on over.”

****

Shane bolted down the stairs and announced he was going to meet a friend from the firehouse. Kit was relieved, really. She needed some space from the guy. Thinking about him was too confusing, and his presence was no help.

But she couldn’t help looking out the kitchen window. She watched the red glow of his taillights as he drove up the driveway and made a left toward town. Her phone rang, the display telling her that it was Mom. She closed her eyes. Connecting the call, she opened the fridge and pulled out a new bottle of wine.

“Hi, Mom.” She cradled the phone to her ear with her shoulder while she fiddled with the wine opener.

“Hi, baby,” her mother singsonged. “Am I interrupting you two kids or anything?”

“What?” For a second she’d forgotten she was supposed to be one half of a couple. “Oh, no. Shane, uh, is meeting one of the guys from the firehouse.”

“That’s nice. I like when a man has friends, don’t you?”

“I never thought about it, but yeah, I guess so.” She pulled the cork out of the bottle and went to the cabinet for a glass.

“Believe me, Kit. You’ll be glad he’s got friends to go play with when you are an old married couple. It’s good when they’re not underfoot all the time.”

“Mom, don’t go jumping the gun, okay? Nobody said anything about getting married.” She took a sip of her wine.

“Not yet, but I have a feeling….” Mom’s voice rose with giddy anticipation.

After another sip, Kit asked, “Is there something specific you called about, Mom?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Did you know the whole bunch is going for dance lessons for the wedding?”

“I heard.”

“Not just the bridal party, mind you. The whole family and some of their friends, too. Dee Dee wants me to take part. She even mentioned asking you and Shane.”

“God, Mom, what’s wrong with these people? Is this a Stepford wedding where everybody has to dance the same way or something?”

“Stepford? Who’s that?”

“Never mind, but that’s just ridiculous.”

“I guess that means you two wouldn’t be interested.”

“Hell no.” She enjoyed another taste of her wine.

Mom chuckled. “Even if it means you can watch Brian attempt to be Fred Astaire?” Now she laughed out loud. “Can you imagine? That Ichabod Crane of a man trying to finesse those shovels he calls feet?”

Mother and daughter shared a laugh. Maybe it was the wine, but Kit got a kick out of the image her mother conjured by likening her ex to Irving’s character from “Sleepy Hollow.”

When the call ended, Kit’s mood was light, and after a second pour of white zinfandel, she went into the living room and turned on the TV. Pushing buttons on the new smart device, she found what she was looking for. An instructional YouTube video on ballroom dancing.