8. Chapter Eight
Chapter 8
Linda rubbed her eyes as she opened the door.
“Morning, Sunshine!” Mason was too chipper. “Here, I brought you a cappuccino. Vanilla this time. If you don’t like it, I can make you something else.”
She took the cup he offered and brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply. “Need.” She took a sip and sighed. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
Mason laughed. “I have replenishments.” He held up a green thermos bottle.
“Good.”
“Ready?”
“I suppose.”
Linda followed him down the hall, appreciating his lack of conversation, which continued during the drive. While he didn’t chit-chat, he whistled, which was almost as annoying, but Linda held her tongue. She worried if he wasn’t whistling, he’d want to talk, and it was too early and too “BC”—before coffee—for that.
Once they had the table set up and had taken out their supplies, which Mason had brought in a backpack—gala tickets, a money box, a Bluetooth speaker, festival flyers, and a small notebook and pen—Linda asked for the thermos to refill her coffee cup.
“I’m ready for a refill as well,” Mason said, sitting in the folding chair the grocery store had provided them.
Linda took the lid off the Tampa Bay Rays mug that Mason had brought her. Mason said hello to a customer exiting the store. The man shook his head when Mason suggested the gala ticket.
“This is going to be fun,” Mason said, holding his cup out for a refill.
“Says you.” Linda filled his cup.
“I hope we sell lots of tickets for Meri.”
"I do, too.”
After filling the mugs, Linda took out her phone and pulled up her to-do list. Grady had a couple of important projects going on this week that Linda needed to keep an eye on. First up was a bid on an abandoned property that Grady’s girlfriend, Nica, wanted. Grady said it would be a great opportunity. With summer coming, Nica wanted to rehab the property while she was on school break. Linda needed to complete a project proposal for Grady’s investors by Wednesday. She needed a few hours today to work on it, then she could polish it on Tuesday and get it in on time.
Grady also asked that she follow up on several delinquent tenants and complete five lease extensions by Friday. Maybe this wasn’t the best week to work remotely. She probably needed a couple of full-time workdays, and volunteering with Mason was putting pressure on her time.
“I’m thinking about adopting a python. What do you think?” Mason said.
“What the what?” Linda’s head jerked around.
Mason chuckled. “Got your attention. Just kidding. Could you imagine me flying with a snake? What would other passengers think?”
“I think it would have to go in the cargo hold, not in the cabin.”
“You sure about that? You see people with dogs and cats in the cabin.”
“Not sure how I feel about that. I would worry about people with allergies sitting next to me if I brought my cats.”
“You have cats? Multiple?”
A woman carrying a toddler boy on her hip approached and Mason stood. “Hello, Miss. We’re selling tickets to this weekend’s Blueberry and Blues Festival. We have general admission tickets and tickets to the gala on Saturday night. Which can I get for you?”
Linda admired his confidence. Mason had always been friendly and outgoing. He was the life of the party and the center of attention wherever they went. It was comforting to be in his orbit. It seemed to be no effort for him, and it took the pressure off her to be “on”.
“Oh, yes!” the woman responded. “We need two adult tickets. General ones. Can’t afford the gala.”
“Coming right up!” Mason leaned down to tear off two tickets from the booklet. “That will be twenty dollars.”
The woman paid him and hurried away.
Mason placed the money in the metal box and sat back down. “Cats?” he prompted.
“Yes. Two cats. Missy and Buddy.”
“What kind?”
“Run of the mill, domestic shorthair cats. Want to see a picture?” Linda flipped over to the gallery on her phone and pulled up a picture of the gray siblings.
“How do you tell them apart? They look alike!”
“Buddy has a small patch of white on his chest. You can’t see it in this picture. Hold on.” She thumbed through the pictures until she found one of Buddy sitting regally, eyes half-closed, looking at the camera.
“Ah. I see. Who watched them while you and Sorcha were here?”
“They are staying with Laurel.” Linda laid her phone on the table. “She says she likes cat sitting. She can enjoy them for a while and then send them home.”
“That works out. Is Laurel still in Peoria?”
“Yes. She’s doing well. She’s in line for the principal position at her school. If she gets it this fall, she’ll be the youngest principal the school has ever had.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Mason enthused. “She has always been good about going after what she wants.”
Linda looked away. It was like Mason stuck a needle under her fingernail. Comparisons to Laurel always caused her to stiffen up. She felt “less than” when compared to her twin. Laurel excelled at everything she did and went after what she wanted.
Linda sighed and responded. “That she is.” Trying to shift the conversation, she said, “So, tell me more about your life on the run.” Hmm, that was truer than she’d intended. “I bet you have a girlfriend in every port.” Bet he left a girlfriend in every port.
“Oh, we’re going there, are we? I assumed dating was an off-limits topic. But I’m glad you brought it up. I have questions myself.” He turned to face her squarely. “To start with, no, I don’t have a girlfriend in any port. When you put down roots for only twelve weeks at a time, it’s hard to see anyone long enough.”
“Oh? So, you’re telling me you haven't dated in six years?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ve dated. Here and there. But I keep things casual. Knowing I'll be moving on. So, no girlfriends scattered across the U.S.” He reached over and nudged her shoulder. “How about you? How many hearts have you broken since I saw you last?”
Did he forget he broke mine? Glibly, she replied, “Oh, dozens. Love ‘em and leave ‘em, I always say.”
“Hey, you’re not being honest with me. I thought we could be honest with each other. I hope we can be friends again.”
“Friends again?”
“Yes. I’ve missed you, Lindy! I know I botched everything when I left after college. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve lamented my actions…”
A man in a three-piece suit approached them. Mason must have seen him out of the corner of his eye, because he groaned and stood. He greeted the man and pitched festival tickets. The man said he was only in town for a couple of days and would be gone before the weekend. He looked at Linda and winked at her. “Wish I was staying,” he said, before hustling into the store.
“Dang!” Mason shook his head. “I can’t believe he outright flirted with you in front of me.”
“It’s not like we’re wearing a sign that suggests we’re together.”
“We’re sitting here together. We’re both wearing blue T-shirts.”
“Get real. We probably look more like siblings than a couple.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that.”
Linda was glad the interruption had changed the trajectory of the conversation. She didn’t want to discuss relationships with Mason. Maybe they should just stick to the task at hand. Maybe she could pretend Mason was her brother and put the whole idea of relationships out of her head.
Yuck. She’d kissed Mason. Lots of times. She could not think of him as a brother.
“Meri said she was impressed that we sold forty tickets to the festival and fourteen to the gala.”
“Great! I’m here to make Meri merry.”
“Ha!” Mason replied. They were in their first thrift store of the afternoon. After their volunteer stint in the morning, they’d gone back to their respective condos so Linda could work.
She’d spent a few hours working on the property proposal and was ready to get outside when Mason called to check on her.
Now they were in Second Time’s the Charm, a thrift store a few miles from Seaside Bay that she’d found with Laurel and Erin the previous fall. They talked to the owner, who was a lady in her late thirties who spent hours outside smoking when no one was in the store.
“Oh, what about this?” Linda pulled a large pink poodle skirt off the rack. “A poodle skirt. We could do a rockabilly theme!”
“Yes!” Mason pumped a fist in the air, his biceps flexed, and Linda gulped. “I could roll up my jeans, put on a white tee, and slick back my hair. That would be easy.”
“Uh, huh,” she murmured, still thinking about his biceps. Think! “I need a white blouse and something I can tie around my neck.”
“You’ll need short socks and black shoes.”
“Ok. That’s one era of music. What else are you thinking?” They’d wear music-related costumes if they could pull it off.
“Hey, look.” Mason pointed, and Linda found her eyes still lingering on his arm. “There’s a Blues Brothers movie poster. Maybe we could find black suits and do that.”
“Good thing we have morning shifts. It would get too hot to wear a black suit in the afternoon.”
“True. But our seats are in shade, so it won’t be too hot.”
“Right.”
They continued browsing the racks. Mason quickly found an appropriate black suit, but it took more digging for Linda to find a similar suit that would work for The Blues Brothers duo.
“Hey, Lindy!” Mason called, and Linda glanced up from the slinky green dress she was holding, wondering if it would work for a genre of music. She giggled as she saw Mason. He was wearing a large yellow hat with a gigantic parrot on top of it. “We could be parrot-heads. You know, Jimmy Buffett. He’s a music style all his own, and very apropos for Florida. We can do this.”
“Hawaiian shirts, khaki shorts, and flip-flops. Yes, we could do that easily. Are you seriously thinking about getting that hat?”
“It’s a done deal. The hat is mine.” His eyebrows pinched in concentration. “Would I need a separate carry-on to take this hat with me when I travel?”
“Just wear it. You’d be the life of the party. As usual.”
He was the life of the party. His spirit was infectious, always quick with a joke. That’s what had always attracted her to him. He was like quicksand. If you got too close, you’d be sucked in and unable to get out. She couldn’t have that. She turned back to the dress in her hand. Shaking her head, she hung it back up.
She needed to put herself in check. If she wasn’t careful, she would fall back in love with Mason just in time for him to take off again. Why was she attracted to the men she couldn’t have? The only good thing about being attracted to unavailable men was that if she remembered to keep her wits and not fall for them, she wouldn’t get hurt.
It was like she’d been infected with the Mason virus. Sort of like shingles, it lurked deep inside her body, like a time bomb, ticking to pop out when she least expected it. Like on every third date she had with a guy. The first date was exciting, getting to know someone new, seeing if they were compatible. The second date was optimistic. They’d made it past the first one. There was mutual interest. But by the third date, it was always apparent that this person wasn’t Mason. Linda rarely made it to a fourth date.
“Ugh,” she moaned softly. She needed a date for Laurel’s wedding in two months. She might have to resort to a dating app to find someone. Working from home made it impossible to meet new people, and she hated meeting someone at a bar. In her experience, meeting someone while drinking had never led to a successful first date, so she’d stopped trying.
“What’s wrong?” Mason was next to her, leaning down to look her in the eyes.
She hadn’t noticed Mason approach. “Huh?”
“You groaned. What’s wrong?” Worry lines creased his forehead. Linda wanted to reach up and smooth them, but she kept her hands at her sides.
“Nothing. Just remembering something else I need to do.”
“Are you going to write it down on your phone, so you don’t forget?” He nodded towards the purse hanging across her body.
“When did you…”
“You are always jotting notes down. You did it half a dozen times this morning.”
“Didn’t realize you noticed that.”
He shrugged. “I notice everything. Goes with the job. Don’t be embarrassed. Go ahead and write it down. We need to move on to another thrift store. I can’t find anything else. I’ll pay for our stuff while you jot-jot.”
He reached for the suit and the skirt in her hand. “I can pay for my stuff,” she protested.
“I know you can, but I roped you into doing this. Let me get it.”
He had roped her in. She handed him the garments and pulled out her phone.
She followed him towards the register and listened as the owner flirted with Mason. Linda rolled her eyes. Was there any female over eighteen that didn’t drool over him?
The woman touched Mason’s arm. Linda’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ll meet you outside,” Linda said, tapping Mason on the shoulder.
“Is your wifey mad?” The woman tittered.
“She’s, uh…” Mason paused. “Needing some air.”
Why didn’t he clarify they weren’t married? Linda walked out the door and listened to the bell jingle. It was as grating as the woman’s laugh.