26. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Luke
B y the time I arrive home, I’m not angry anymore. However, I need to let Maisy know that I am not at all amused by her interfering skullduggery and underhand manipulation. No real harm was caused, but what she did and how she did it, can’t just be brushed aside as if it doesn’t matter. It does matter. Oh, yes. Maisy pretended to be me. She stole my identity. Online. And that is not cool. At all. I park the truck and stomp up the steps and into the house, jaw set, brow knitted with displeasure. Maisy greets me in the hallway.
“Kitchen. Now.” I bark without slowing my stride. I march through the doorway and down the corridor. I pull out a chair at the kitchen table and stand behind it. “Sit,” I say looking directly at Maisy.
My niece shuffles over and sits meekly, head bowed. I briskly pull out another chair, beside hers, and sit down. Maisy braces herself, waiting for the storm to hit.
“So, Maisy.” I keep my voice steady and even. “You’ve been pretty busy lately, haven’t you?”
Maisy visibly relaxes and says, “Yes, sir. I’ve updated the website with new photos of the horses and facilities here at Green Acres and set up a brand-new Welcome page, a Contact Us page, and made navigation easier.” Her words gabble, double speed. “My next project is to sell branded merch online. You know, caps, t-shirts, hoodies, mugs.” She checks off items on her fingers. “It’s amazing what you can print on these days. There’s so much stuff.”
“And…” I fix my niece with a long hard stare. “… you set me up on a date with…” My fingers tap my chin for dramatic effect. “… let me try and remember… Hotel Babe?”
Maisy presses her lips together forming a hard horizontal line. “Luke. Let me explain about that.”
“Oh. I am all ears.” I lean back on the kitchen chair spreading my hands wide on the table in front of me. “Please, Maisy, take your time.”
“I did it for you, darn it,” my niece says with unexpected ferocity.
Maisy’s harsh loud retort catches me off guard. “For me?”
“Yes, for you.” Maisy blows out audibly and slaps both hands on her knees. “Luke. You’re one of the saddest people I know.”
“I’m not sad.”
“Don’t interrupt me. I’m not done.” Maisy stands and begins pacing. “When Courtney left for L.A., she broke your heart.” She stops pacing close to my shoulder. “I understand that.”
“She didn’t.” I lie. A defensive reaction. “I was upset, yes…”
“Please. Don’t interrupt me. You’ll have your chance in a moment,” Maisy says with surprising authority. “Courtney isn’t good enough for you, Uncle Luke. She never appreciated who you are. Courtney never saw you. The real you. It’s like you were filling in until she left town, or something better came along. I don’t know. It’s like you were keeping her from being alone.” Maisy sits down again, her elbows on the table. “But you gave her your heart. That was plain to see,” she says in softer tones. “And then, she trashed it. That was plain to see too.” Maisy leans back and takes a breath. “But it’s time you got over her.”
“I am over her.”
Maisy sighs. “No, you’re not.” She slides forward onto one elbow and looks up at me her head supported on an upturned hand. “Luke. What did you tell me when Spider threw me that day? You said, ‘Get back on that pony, or you’ll lose all confidence and the next time it’ll be harder to get in the saddle.’”
“That’s right. I remember. And, Maisy, I was so proud of you when you dusted yourself off, grabbed those reins, and hauled your ass back onto Spider.” I smile at the memory. “You showed that grumpy old pony who was boss.”
“Yeah. My butt was so sore. I was bruised black and blue for weeks.” Maisy laughs, then she coughs and returns to serious mode. “My point is this, Luke. It’s your turn to dust yourself off and get back in the metaphorical saddle, buddy.”
“You sound like an old person.”
“Sometimes it feels that way.” Maisy shakes her head and laughs again. “I lived fast and loose for a while and I guess I owe you, and about a million other people, an apology for being less than considerate.”
“Less than considerate? Is that what we’re calling theft, deception, betrayal, and fraud these days?”
“Alright. You have a point.” Maisy stands up and paces up and down. “Luke. I was an out-of-control felon teenager. I wronged you. I stole, lied, and wrecked your car. And I am truly sorry.” She sits on the chair beside me and takes my hand. “Please. Forgive me.”
“Shucks Maisy. You are the hardest person to stay mad at.”
“Is that you forgiving me?” She looks at me quizzically.
“Yes, you idiot. I forgave you long ago. You were just a messed-up kid. And apart from this recent misdemeanor of stealing my identity and setting me up on a bogus date, I’d say that you’re alright.”
“Wow. I’m ‘alright’. Luke, sometimes your emotional outbursts overwhelm me.” Maisy gazes at the ceiling. There’s a beat, then she follows in a cheery tone. “So, what are we going to do next?”
“What do you mean, ‘next’?”
“Your sad empty love life, Luke!” Maisy stands and begins pacing again. “You’re an above-average-looking guy. Some might even call you handsome.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“And the woman who I saw, the one with the apples; the one who has been messaging you on TheOne4U as Hotel Babe…”
“Wait a minute? Hotel Babe, the Crabapple Lady?”
“Yes.” Maisy sits down again. “Honestly. I thought she was perfect for you.” Maisy sighs out hard, then she says, “And what did you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“See. You are so incredibly annoying. You don’t see what is right in front of you. I’m telling you, Luke. A woman like that is not going to wait around for you forever.”
“Maisy. I have just been talking with her and…” I pause as I’m aware that I’m about to share something deeply personal with someone I’ve always thought of as my enemy. “You might think that she’s perfect for me, but her motivation for matchmaking me on the dating app is purely for financial gain. She gets couples together because she wants them to get married, so she gets the lucrative wedding design contract.”
“Really? I didn’t get that impression.”
“Maisy. Think about what it is you are saying. You were pretending to be me, and she was pretending to be another woman. So, how could you possibly draw any conclusions regarding character or personality based on communication that is utterly fraudulent?”
“Just a feeling.”
“A feeling?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how nuts that sounds?”
“I can see your point, but I think she’s nice. And I think she’s really into you.”
I realize that this conversation is going nowhere. We sit in silence for a good long while until Maisy says, “How did you feel about Hotel Babe before today? Before you found out that she has been pretending to be someone else?”
“Alright, Maisy. For the sake of clarity, Hotel Babe, the one you saw with the crabapples that day, her name is Lydia, and she owns the florist shop in town.”
“Right.” Maisy nods and smiles dreamily. “So, back to my question.”
“How did I feel about Lydia before today?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I liked her.”
Maisy jumps up as if she has been electrocuted. “I knew it!” She dances around the kitchen then places both hands on the table, as if she’s a defense lawyer in a courtroom, and says, “There now, Luke. So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing! I’m going to do nothing because she’s a crazy person who I don’t want to be within a mile of. She is obviously in need of some medical help.” I walk to the kitchen door and an exit from the discussion. “She’ll probably be arrested very soon, and I don’t want any part in her ridiculous charade.” Maisy opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off before she can articulate her thought. “Enough, Maisy. I mean it.”
I walk out of the kitchen and down the hall. I’m going out to ride Deedee to try and make sense of everything. The walls are closing in and I feel as if I’m suffocating. But Maisy follows and catches up with me.
“Okay. Just one more thing then, and I’ll zip it up for good.” She mimes sealing her lips together with a zipper then crosses her heart.
I look at the floor, then back to Maisy. “What? What do you have to say, Maisy?”
“Just this. You like her and she likes you.” I’m about to walk out, but I stay and listen. “Crabapple Lady may have created a hoax that went horribly wrong…”
“Yes. But…”
“Just listen.”
“Okay.”
“If that is the worst, most terrible thing about her; if trying to set up a date is the worst thing that she has done, then, it’s not so bad, is it? It’s misguided, for sure. But personally, I don’t think her motivation was financial. I think she did it for love.” I don’t answer. I study the corner of the door where the paint is flaking off. “Luke. I stole your car. I went on a hedonistic rampage without a thought for anyone else.” I flick a glance at Maisy. “And you found a way to forgive me.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? Different circumstances. Yes. And different relationship dynamic. Okay. But the sense of betrayal is the same.”
“Man, you are so annoying.”
“But I’m right, aren’t I?” Maisy grins at me, her hands on her hips, as if she has scored a point. “She’s perfect, Luke. Call her. Give Crabapple Lady a chance.”
I don’t say anything. I take my hat off the peg in the hall and walk out of the door.