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SIOBHAN
Throughout the awkward dinner, every time I looked up from my plate, I found Jimmy’s hard gaze on me. What was with him? I mean, I got it. He really didn’t want to be here. Neither did I. Why glare at me all evening like I was the enemy? I toyed with the tender slices of roast, dumplings, and carrots in thick gravy, eating nothing. Every time I tried, I felt Jimmy’s stare on my fork as I brought the food toward my mouth and my throat closed up. I hadn’t been this uncomfortable during a meal since coming home from the residential treatment place six years ago.
Next to me, Nana Thea and Captain Lou flirted, feeding each other and probably playing footsie under the dining room table. I couldn’t decide if they were so crazy about each other they were oblivious to my predicament or showing off. Either way, the more they played up their blooming romance, the more unbearable Jimmy’s animosity toward me became. Somewhere between, “Please pass me another biscuit, sweetheart” and “I hope you saved room for dessert, honey,” I lost my cool.
Using the same sugary tones as the older couple, I said to Jimmy, “If you’re waiting for me to vomit at the table, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. I don’t do that anymore.”
“Bon-Bon!” Nana exclaimed with a gasp. Good to know I could shock the old lady, considering all the times she left me with my jaw agape.
Jimmy, on the other hand, barely cracked a smile. Instead, he pointed his fork, speared with the last fat dumpling from his plate, at me. “Good for you.” He slid the morsel into his mouth and chewed while his gaze remained fixed on me.
“Siobhan,” Nana said, “apologize to our guest.”
“She doesn’t have to. In fact,” Jimmy replied as he slid his chair toward the wall behind him, “I bet she’s looking for one from me.”
Darn right. I leaned back in my seat, folded my arms over my chest, and waited for my due. But it never came.
“Mrs. Bendlow,” he said instead and got to his feet, “thank you for dinner. It was delicious, but I think I should go now.”
Nana threw her napkin on the table. “What? Without coffee? Or dessert?”
He shook his head. “I’m not much of a coffee drinker. I thought I’d head over to Schooner Court to see the Christmas lights.” At last, he returned his attention to me, a too-sweet smile on his sarcastic face. “Maybe Siobhan would like to join me?”
I’d rather eat live spiders.
Before I could come up with a more polite reply, my grandmother clapped and announced, “She’d love to! Go on, Bon-Bon.”
Any doubt I’d harbored that this dinner was a set-up disappeared. The old lady got to her feet faster than I could and practically dumped me out of my chair.
“Don’t worry about the dishes,” she told me—as if that was my greatest fear right now. The fact Jimmy still watched me with that sociopath smile gleaming brighter than the diamonds in our chandelier had no effect on her. She shooed me with her hands. “Lou will help me clean up. Go on. Get your coat. Go with Jimmy. We’ll be fine.”
I stifled a shiver. Yeah, sure. They’d be fine. What about me?
“Well?” Jimmy prompted. “You coming?”
I could’ve said no, could’ve gone with my first instinct and opted for the spiders, but I was pretty sure that was what he wanted. Never let it be said I did what someone else wanted. In that respect, I was a lot like my grandmother. I matched the monster’s predatory grin with one of my own. “Sounds fun. Count me in.”
Ha! He blinked. I’d caught him off-guard by agreeing. Good. I’d hate to be the only stunned player in this...whatever game this was.
“I’ll just get our coats,” I added in a lighthearted tone far from the angst I felt in the pit of my stomach. How did I know he wasn’t a serial killer, for God’s sake? I couldn’t help but remember Nana’s comments from earlier. You should see the house. He keeps it dark all the time. Why? Did he hide the bodies of the women who ticked him off in the basement?
Minutes later, despite misgivings screaming inside my skull, I sat in the passenger seat of Jimmy’s car in his driveway. My breath came in quick gulps, forming puffy clouds in the chilled air while I waited for him to turn up the heat. What in the world was I doing here? What did I have to prove? Did I really care if Jimmy Vais thought I was weak or cowardly or waiting ‘til he left before I threw up my dinner? My pride answered all my questions. You’re here because you do care and you want to prove to him that you’re not Barf Bag Bendlow anymore. And to prove to yourself that your fears are totally unreasonable.
“Okay,” Jimmy said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Where should we go?”
My totally unreasonable fear ratcheted up to eleven. “I thought you wanted to go see the Christmas lights.” Schooner Court was a cul-de-sac on the other side of town. Each year, the six sets of homeowners who lived there came up with a theme, and the day after Thanksgiving, they decorated the entire block with thousands of lights, animated figures, and synchronized music. At the first house on the circle, a mounted lockbox accepted donations for a children’s cancer charity. People came from miles around to pop a few bucks in that box and experience the magic the neighbors had devised. Last year’s theme, The Nightmare Before Christmas, complete with a full life-size replica of Nightmare Town, had raked in more than ten thousand dollars. I hadn’t heard what they’d dreamed up for this year, but I was sure it would be amazing.
Jimmy snorted. “Please. I only mentioned the Christmas lights to escape your grandmother and her boy toy without an interrogation.”
I opened my mouth to object, but the ridiculousness of his comment made me pause. Captain Lou, a boy toy? Some toy. At six-feet-four-inches tall, all solid muscle, with coarse black hair and a voice that boomed like a foghorn, there was nothing fun or playful about the old sea dog. He was, in fact, intimidating and a little scary to kids and puppies.
“Oh,” I said, which was just as stupid as anything else that might have popped out of my mouth at that moment.
“What would you like to do?” he asked. “Feel like grabbing a cup of coffee at the diner?”
I swerved to stare at him. I knew he lied about that. He’d pulled the same stunt on me yesterday. Passing up my coffee for that expensive gourmet stuff. Was he so sophisticated now other people’s coffee didn’t pass muster? Or did he think we might try to poison him? Although, now that I thought about it...
Now, now, Siobhan, my conscience chided me. Be nice.
“You know, if you were in such a hurry to leave the dinner, you could’ve just stayed for one cup of coffee, passed on dessert, said thanks and see ya,” I advised. “You didn’t have to be so rude about it.”
He sent an impatient glance in my direction. “Are you kidding? I’d tell your grandmother I was donating a kidney in the morning, if it got me out of there faster. That was one of the most awkward dinners I’ve ever attended. Any extra seconds would have been excruciating.” Gaze riveted straight ahead, he held up his right hand toward me. “And don’t deny you jumped at the chance to come with me.”
Well, crap. I’d stepped right into his trap. If I said I didn’t join him because I was uncomfortable at dinner, he’d assume I came along because I was interested in him romantically. Or worse, I’d strong-armed my grandmother to invite him in the first place. Admitting he was right, though, felt somehow disloyal to Nana Thea. I had one opening I could use to wiggle out, and I grabbed it with both fists. “The only reason I’m here is because I thought we were going to see the lights.”
“You wanna see the lights? Fine. Let’s go see the lights.” He started the engine. “I just want to stop at the convenience store for a coffee to go first. If I’m gonna be out in the cold for an extended period of time, I’ll need something hot to brace me against the elements.”
“I had no idea you were such a precious flower.” Wow. Did that caustic comment come out of my mouth? Who knew I had that kind of nastiness in me? Or that Jimmy could summon it out of me?
“Neither did I.” His tone was curt, bitter in its brevity.
I stared out the window while he pulled out of the driveway and watched the headlights illuminate the series of hedges that separated his home from the Emersons’ next door.
At the corner, he made a quick left that had me sliding against the passenger door to bang my shoulder against the window. Ouch. I rubbed the offended area through my thick parka sleeve.
But my tongue wasn’t done delving deeper into the mystery of Jimmy Vais.
Deep down, I guess I felt sorry for him. I was also curious. “You now,” I said, “if you want to talk, I’m a really good listener.”
He spun the steering wheel, and I braced myself against the door for another sharp turn, this time into Qwiq-Mart’s parking lot.
To my surprise, he took the entrance with care. Once he pulled into a slot, he slid the gear in park before turning his full—and for once, interested—attention on me. “I thought we were talking.”
“We’ve been chatting,” I replied. “Small talk. ‘Hey, how’ve you been? Long time, no see’ stuff. And if that’s all you want to do, that’s fine. I get the feeling though, that you’ve got a lot of crap bottled up inside you and you’re looking for someone to unload on.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “I know we’ve never been friends, despite being neighbors for years, but I think that’s why your subconscious chose me.”
“My subconscious? You taking voodoo lessons from your grandmother all of a sudden?”
I clucked my tongue at him. “Nana’s not into voodoo.”
“Whatever.”
I think he had the nerve to roll his eyes, but I couldn’t tell if the streetlight in the parking lot played tricks on me. “Scoff if you want, but I bet I’m right. You got a better answer? Tell me. Why do you think you drove me around town to look for Nana the other day when you really didn’t want to, why you showed up at dinner tonight when you, again, really didn’t want to? If you despised the idea of being with me as much as you claim, you would have never made the offer to drive me around. You could have told your mother no about the dinner, and that would’ve been the end of it. What could she do from Arizona? Ground you?” I shook my head, firm in my argument. “You’re here with me right now because you don’t have to worry about my reaction to anything you might reveal. Because we’re not close, you know I can be unbiased. I won’t take sides in whatever it is you have to say, and I won’t judge.”
He smirked. “Why would you judge me, to begin with?”
“I didn’t say I’d judge you. You might be afraid someone closer to you than I am would judge the situation or the other players involved. Anyone or anything you might have an issue with. Your ex-wife, your brother—”
“Except if my issue is with your grandmother.”
“Well, yes, I guess—wait.” A chill embraced me. “Do you have a problem with Nana Thea? I mean, I know you’re ticked at her over the dinner invitation and for calling your mom, but she’s harmless. Bossy, opinionated, and off-the-wall wacky, but harmless. She has this thing about the universe being in harmony. It’s a hippie idea, I think. Balance and peace and love. Besides, you’ve been cranky ever since you came back home. Even when I mentioned your brother, you were surly—and you guys were at least, fairly close growing up. I mean, yeah, you guys fought, but all siblings fight when they’re growing up. My sister and I had some beauties. Still do. But when push comes to shove, we love each other. On top of all that, Nana said you keep the blinds closed and the house dark, so I’m wondering—”
“Whoa. Slow down. You’re babbling.”
I was. He didn’t have to point out the obvious to me. My ears burned with every word I spoke. Hearing myself natter on at eighty-miles-an-hour didn’t mean I could control the flood or shut up. Something about being with Jimmy made me jumpy, like I sat in the front seat of a roller coaster about to go down that first hill. All my synapses fired on full, most especially my thought processes.
Long ago, I’d never been a chatterbox. I was always the quiet kid, the one who kept secrets—mine and everyone else’s—until I landed at the eating disorder clinic. After years of disclosing all my fears and foibles in therapy, I’d acquired a new way of vomiting whenever I sensed I was in over my head: verbally. If my brain thought something, no matter how inane, my mouth spewed it.
“Sorry,” I told Jimmy and clamped my lips shut to keep anything else from erupting. I’d made the offer. If he wanted to take me up on it, great. If not, that was fine, too.
He opened the driver’s door, and a gust of cold air blew inside. “You want anything? Coffee? Tea? A hot chocolate?”
I reached for my door handle. “Coffee’s good.”
“No, stay here. I’ll get it. No sense in both of us leaving the car now that it’s warmed up. How do you like it?”
I sensed he’d scoff at my true preference, so I kept my order easy. “Light, with whole milk. No sugar.”
“Okay.” He stepped out. “Sit tight. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Then we’ll go see the lights.”
“And talk,” I reminded him.
He said nothing else as he closed the door, but I watched him laugh while he strode inside the convenience store. I wished I could discern whether he laughed because he planned to surrender to my command or because he thought I was an idiot for trying to influence him. Time would tell, I supposed and sighed. I squirmed in the seat and stared out the window at the patrons entering and leaving the store until Jimmy returned with two disposable cups.
After handing me one, he slid the other into the holder in the center console. “Let’s go. Off to see the lights.”
Fifteen minutes later, both of us cradled our cups for warmth as we strolled through the multi-hued, musical neighborhood. This year’s theme was Candy Land, based on the kids’ board game. Each house was decorated like a different land on the board: Gumdrop Mountains, Peppermint Forest, Lollipop Woods, Rainbow Trail, Ice Cream Sea, and Candy Castle. The musical choices were Christmas carols sung by a children’s choir. Between the sweet voices, the vivid colors of the decorations and the delight on the faces of the passersby, joy was infectious here. Part of me wanted to rush ahead like a kid, skip around the illuminated six-foot candy canes and race to the equally tall, vibrantly swirled lollipops next door. One look at my somber companion squelched the idea—and most of my glee.
“Why did you come back to Snug Harbor?” I asked.
Jimmy drained his coffee and tossed the empty cup into a nearby trashcan. I got the feeling he wanted to ditch me as easily. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Are we done here?”
We’d only seen three of the houses so far, but I was tired of extending an olive branch only to have him set it on fire, tired of trying to play nice with the living version of Candy Land’s evil villain, Lord Licorice.
I dropped my half-filled cup in the same can he’d used. The coffee had lost its taste, and my companion had lost what little appeal he’d provided. “Yeah,” I said with a grimace. “We’re done.”
♥♥♥♥
ALTHEA
When we finished dinner, I washed the dishes while Lou dried. It was a cozy end to the evening, a calm atmosphere that only settled over us once Jimmy and Siobhan left the house. Despite the fact the kitchen was equipped with an automatic dishwasher, I never used it. Want to know the biggest destructor of marriages in the last thirty or forty years? That one appliance embedded between rows of cabinets in kitchens all over the country. During my marriage, I insisted Archie help me with the dishes after a meal. I’ve always believed the quiet routine gives couples a chance to reconnect after a hectic day and, over time, draws them closer together.
That special magic had worked wonders for Archie and me, keeping lines of communication open and giving us a sense of peace at the end of any hectic day. Now, it weaved a similar spell on my blossoming relationship with Lou. Every time our fingers brushed as I passed a dish or pot to him, all my senses became aware of his presence beside me: the scent of his cologne, his skin touching mine, his warm body so close, each inhale and exhale echoing from his chest, the taste of salt he left in the air by his mere presence.
Into this sensual world stormed Siobhan—home way earlier than I anticipated. She stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the hall, her expression morose and defiant at the same time. I’d only seen that look one other time on her face: when her parents insisted she enter a treatment center for her bulimia. My heart sank. What had happened now? Please, God, don’t let Jimmy have upset her so much she started puking again.
“Well, that was no fun,” she announced with more bitterness than the taste of burnt ashes. “I’m going to bed. Thanks for dinner, Nana. It was delicious.” Without taking off her coat, she turned and fled upstairs.
I reached for a dishtowel to dry my hands, intent on going after her, to make sure she didn’t hang her head in the toilet, but Lou’s light grip on my arm stopped me. “Let her go.”
No way. Siobhan was my responsibility. Oh, sure. I was well aware she thought she was my guardian, but I didn’t need anyone watching over me. She did. Intent on my target, I pulled away. “I need to—”
“Let her go,” he repeated firmly. “She feels bad enough right now without you trying to rehash what happened for your entertainment.”
I glared up at him. “It’s not entertainment. I’m worried about her. You have no idea what she’s been through.”
“Everyone in this town knows what she’s been through,” he retorted, “including the tourists. I understand how worried you are. It’s what you do. You’ve got a big heart, Thea. So big you want everyone to be happy and loved and at peace. And it’s pretty obvious you want to fix your granddaughter up with Jimmy Vais. What I can’t figure out is why. They’re completely wrong for each other. Those two have about as much chemistry as a grizzly bear and a mountain lion.”
“I know.” With a sigh of surrender, I leaned a hip against the counter’s edge. Why couldn’t life run smoothly? If Siobhan would get out of her own way, she could have it all: a good career, a good man, a good life including, someday, great-grandchildren for me. “I don’t get it. She always had such a crush on him when they were kids.”
Lou laughed. “That was...what? Fifteen years ago?”
“Thirteen,” I corrected with attitude and, in a lower voice, added, “I think.”
“Regardless. Not everyone’s like us, darling.”
I cocked my head at him. I was pretty sure I knew what he meant, but I had to be a hundred percent certain. “Like us?”
“Still madly in love fifty years after we first fell for each other.”
I snorted. “You’ve been in love for fifty years. I’ve never been in love with you.” I winced at the harshness of my words. I hadn’t intended to sound like I hated him. I didn’t. Nor did I love him. My feelings were...I didn’t know exactly what they were. Definitely not love, but nowhere close to hate.
Lou bent to press his forehead against mine, and our eyes locked. “Liar,” he whispered. “You love me. You may not be ready to admit it, but you love me. You always have. Archie was a distraction.”
Fury raised my voice to an outraged shout. How dare he! “Archie was my husband. I loved him with all my heart. My life with him has nothing to do with any feelings I might have for you.”
He drew back as if I’d slapped him, his cheeks growing ruddy. “Whoa. Wait. I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. I know you loved Archie. He wasn’t a distraction any more than Ruth was a distraction for me.” He reconsidered, smirked. “Well, maybe more than Ruth was a distraction for me. But Archie’s gone, Thea, and you’re still here. So am I. We could die tomorrow, or we could live another thirty years. Why shouldn’t we grab our happiness while we can? If Archie were still alive, I would’ve gone to my grave without admitting I’ve never gotten over you.”
My fury dimmed, and I stared at the fake oaken floor my son had put down to replace my old sheet vinyl tiles. Sometimes, I missed those horrible old gold diamonds. Then I reminded myself I was seeing them through the fondness of my memories of the milestones I’d shared with them: my son’s first steps, Thanksgiving dinners when Archie and his parents were still alive, Siobhan posing for pictures in her cap and gown before her high school graduation. I missed a lot of my old life, but the past was gone. Who knew how much time Lou or I had left? Should we spend that time, whether minutes or decades, alone, simply to cling to a past that no longer wanted us? To a past that wasn’t as rosy as our memories made it seem? Or should we grab the here and now to enjoy however much time fate would allow us to see ahead?
“I’ll admit,” I said at last, “I am starting to like you a little.”
He took a step closer, filling my space with the whole of him. “Only a little?”
The heat in the kitchen rocketed up to inferno. I inched backward to gain some air and slammed my hip against the handle to the oven door. “Ow!”
Lou’s hand slid up to my elbow to stop me from making the same mistake again. “Easy. You okay?”
The intensity of his gaze dried my mouth to dust. I couldn’t speak, could barely nod. Maybe I’d underestimated the power of washing dishes with him. After all, this was, technically, only our second date. Way too soon for such an intimate activity.
“What would you say,” he said, his voice rough with banked emotion, “if I asked to kiss you right now?”
There it was. That feeling of power at being given the opportunity to grant permission. Still unable to speak, I placed my hands on either side of his face and drew him closer. He didn’t have a chance to pull in a breath before I took what I wanted, simultaneously granting him the permission he sought.
Our kiss was as powerful as ocean waves in a hurricane. My senses tumbled in the undertow, adrift and chaotic. Archie had never packed so much of himself into a kiss. I squelched the disloyal thought. Surely, he must have. No doubt I’d forgotten since it had been five years since Archie had had the chance. Then again, the Archie who returned to me wasn’t the same man who left for Vietnam a few weeks after our wedding. He never talked about his experience there—at least, not with me—but I lay beside him and held him when the nightmares came, I turned a blind eye when he used an excess of one or two vices to drown out the flood of ugly memories, I shielded our sons from the sudden outbursts of temper...
Lou broke away from me, frowning. “Did I lose you? Is something wrong?”
I slammed back to reality with a start. Well, crap. Lost in analyzing my memories, I’d totally forgotten where I was, with whom, and what we’d been doing. Distracted as I’d become, I knew better than to admit I’d been thinking of another man while kissing Lou—even if the other man was my husband of almost fifty years.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I’m still worried about Siobhan.”
“Don’t be. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”
It was my turn to frown. Could she? I wasn’t sure. She’d been through such a trial in her twenties, had done so much to herself in a quest to be thin when she was clearly built like her mother: curvy and buxom. Oh, she appeared happy now, or at least, satisfied with her life. If you asked me, though, her aura wore a cloud of desperate disappointment, as if all her struggles should have paid bigger benefits instead of leaving her with a broken digestive system, a rumor-filled reputation, and a bunch of idiots who hovered over her every bite of food. I included myself in the idiot brigade, by the way.
“Hey.” Lou prompted me again by snapping his fingers in rapid rhythm near my right ear. “You’re doing it again. Thea, darling, you think too much.”
I let all my troubles escape on an exhaled breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Where were we?”
“Around here, if I remember correctly.” His mouth came down on mine again, and I let the undertow pull me from my troubled thoughts to a world of delicious romance.