Chapter Nineteen #2
“I’m not talking about it, I’m merely updating you that my opinion hasn’t changed.” I grabbed an apple from the bowl I’d filled yesterday and my coffee mug and headed for the stairs. “We should try and finish the attic this morning as it’s going to get too hot to be up there later.”
“I’ll be right up.”
Dude glanced between us as if he knew we were at odds and wasn’t sure which side he was on. As if there was any question, the person in the kitchen near the food had his loyalty and we both knew it. I patted his head and said, “Behave.”
Dude lay down in the middle of the kitchen as if supervising Simon.
I headed upstairs determined not to think about Simon or his kisses, especially when he told me I wasn’t defective in his incredibly sweet way.
I hadn’t argued the point last night but the reality was that I felt less than because of my infertility and even while creating a pretty great life for myself, I hadn’t managed to change that.
I pulled the folding stairs down and began the climb into the attic.
Simon had found the string light switch in the attic and replaced the bulb.
I dragged my feet forward in the darkness until I saw the string.
I set my coffee down and tugged on the thin cotton cord.
With a snap, the light came on and the shadows in the attic vanished.
Electricity was a magical thing that I appreciated only when I didn’t have it.
There was a large steamer trunk that had intrigued me last week, but I had gotten distracted by the piles of other things.
I crossed over to it now, taking a bite out of my apple as I went.
I switched on the flashlight app on my phone and ran it over the dark red-brown surface, noting that it appeared to be locked. Nuts.
The wood was scarred and scuffed, clearly the worse for wear, but it occurred to me that it was the perfect place to keep old memories.
And it might not belong to either Pops or Gramps.
It could be that the previous owners had left it behind like the bassinet and the snowshoes.
Unless Simon and I were way off the mark and that stuff belonged to our grandfathers.
“I was thinking we should put everything out on the lawn.”
“Ah!” I whirled around and there was Simon.
“Sorry. I should have coughed or something,” he said.
I waved my apple at him. “No, it’s fine.” I took another bite to keep myself from saying anything else like how indecently hot he was in gray sweats and could he please put on normal pants.
He crossed the attic and knelt beside me, considering the trunk. “About last night—”
I took another bite of apple and shook my head. “No.”
“No what?” he asked. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
I swallowed and the apple chunks went down hard. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no need to talk about it.”
“What if I disagree?” he asked.
“You? O’Malley? Disagreeing with me? Shocking!” I finished my apple and dropped the core into the trash bag we’d brought up yesterday.
“Are you done?” he asked.
I nodded at him.
“Great,” he said. “Then hear me out.”
“Oh, that can’t be good,” I said. “Nothing good ever starts with ‘hear me out.’ ”
“I thought you were an optimist,” he challenged me.
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know when things are about to get messy.”
“I thought about what you said last night, and I’ve decided to take you up on it.”
“I’m sorry?” I blinked. “What did I say?”
“You said you only do short-term flings.” He held my gaze and then said, “So, I’m in.”
My heart dropped into my feet and I felt immediately hot and dizzy.
“But you don’t think getting involved is a great idea,” I reminded him.
“Yes, but if we just have a fling we should be fine, right?” One of his eyebrows rose higher than the other in a look that straight-up called me out.
“You also don’t do flings,” I reminded him.
“You’ve caused me to reconsider.” His small smile lit his eyes as he took me in, from the bandanna I’d tied on my head to protect my hair from the cobwebs to my baggy T-shirt and jean shorts.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
He raised his eyebrows. “So suspicious. Maybe, Spencer, I’m looking at you ‘like that’ because I like you.”
My treacherous affection-starved heart did a silly flutter in my chest. I held his gaze, trying to figure out if he was playing me and if so, for what purpose? Sex? Or did he think he could woo the house out from under me?
“You don’t believe me.” There was no surprise or hurt in his voice, just curiosity.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just…” I shrugged. Running out of words was not a normal state of being for me, and it was definitely his fault. I was caught off guard and didn’t know how to respond.
“Let me give you some empirical evidence. I like your fearlessness. For as long as I live, I will never forget that you jumped into the water to pull me out even though you were afraid of alligators.”
“Still am.” I shifted on my feet, trying to get comfortable with his praise.
“I like your laugh,” he said. “It bubbles up from deep inside and then pops like a champagne cork.”
“It’s a loud one.” I put my hand on the back of my neck, which felt hot.
“And I like the way you look at me when I kiss you.” His voice dropped to a lower octave and my gaze was caught and held by his. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. “I like you, Spencer, I really do.”
“Is it hot up here?” I ripped my gaze from his and fanned my face with my hands. “I feel like it’s suddenly very hot.”
“It’s probably all of that shmoopy talk.” A head popped up in the attic opening and I yelped. Roland pushed his ball cap back on his head and said, “Mornin’.”
Simon’s mouth lifted in that small smile of his and I noticed there was a wicked glint in his eye to accompany the lone dimple in his cheek. Meanwhile, I felt as if I were being embalmed in embarrassment.
“Well, this is mortifying,” I muttered, and shot Simon a flustered glower.
Simon leaned close and whispered, “We’ll finish later.”
My mouth went completely dry. Forcing myself to look away from Simon and his killer dimple, I glanced at our surprise guest and said, “Morning, Roland, was there something we could help you with?”
“Not for me, no, I came because Be—” His gaze was diverted to something behind me. “Wow, is that Billy and Bobby’s tandem bike? I always wondered what happened to it when they stopped riding.”
“It was theirs? They really rode it?” I was completely charmed by the idea of Pops riding a tandem bike with his partner.
“They did, all over the OBX,” Roland said. “Although Bobby was always the captain in front and Billy was the stoker in the back. We used to laugh when Billy would take his feet off the pedals and let Bobby do all the work.”
I burst out laughing and Simon let out a huff of air that sounded almost like a full chuckle. “That tracks. Gramps would have to be the steersman.”
Roland squinted at the bike. “It looks like it’s in great shape, no rust or anything.”
“It is.” Simon held out a hand and pulled Roland into the attic. “As far as I can tell, it just needs new tires.”
“I know where I can get some.” Roland ran a hand over the frame. “That is, if you want to fix it up.”
“Absolutely,” Simon and I said together. Our gazes met and we exchanged a conspiratorial smile.
“Bring it on downstairs and I’ll fix it today,” Roland offered.
Simon looked thrilled by the prospect.
“Roland, did you need us for something specific or were you just stopping by?” I asked. I had a feeling the allure of our packed front porch was calling to him and I needed to keep him on task.
“Oh, yeah.” Roland snapped his fingers. “Bebe sent me. Her water broke and she and Luke are about to head to the hospital, but their dog sitter is on vacation so she wondered if you’d keep an eye on Frank.”
“Hospital? But she’s not due for another two weeks!” I hurried across the attic to the opening. “Is she still at home?”
“Yes, Luke was trying to get her out the door, but she wasn’t having it until she knew Frank would be okay,” Roland said.
I glanced at Simon and said, “I’m going!”
“Right behind you!” He turned to Roland. “We’re going to finish the attic today. If you and Zach want to help, we’ll pay you.”
Roland rubbed his hands together. “Deal.”
I scurried down the ladder to the landing where Dude was napping. “Come on, boy, we’re going to get Frank.”
At his buddy’s name, Dude perked up. We dashed downstairs. Dude in front and Simon brought up the rear. Bebe and Luke’s house was halfway down our narrow neighborhood street. When we got there, Luke was outside, tossing a carry-on into the car and looking frantic.
“Oh, thank goodness,” he said. “I can’t get her to budge until Frank is settled.” He ran toward the house, leading the way. “Bebe, they’re here for Frank, let’s go.”
Bebe was sitting at her kitchen table, drinking coffee and thumbing through her phone. Frank hopped up and charged Dude as soon as he saw him. The two dogs started to run around the house with absolute glee. Simon opened the back door and they tumbled into the yard.
“We’re happy to watch Frank for you, Bebe,” I said.
She glanced up from her phone at me. “I don’t think it’s going to be necessary.”
I exchanged a look with Luke. He crouched beside her chair and in a gentle voice said, “Frank will have a great time with Dude. And now we need to—”
His words were cut off as Bebe gasped and then shut her eyes, clearly in pain from a contraction.
“Babe, we have to go.” Luke’s voice was pleading.
“I changed my mind,” Bebe grunted. “I don’t think I can do this.” Her brown eyes were huge as she looked down at her husband. Her lower lip trembled.
“Yes, you can. You have Dr. Swan attending,” he said. “You love her and she’s not going to let anything happen to you.” His voice was fierce when he added, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”