Chapter Sixteen
DYLAN
Wednesday evening, Dylan arrived home to find Liam sitting on his front porch with a takeout bag in his hands.
“It’s been a lousy week so far, but it’s beginning to look up since you brought dinner,” Dylan said as he jogged up the steps.
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you,” Liam said.
Dylan dropped his keys on the entryway table and walked to the kitchen. “Iced tea or beer?”
“For this conversation, I’d say beer,” Liam pulled out the food containers and placed them on the kitchen table, filling the room with the scent of garlic and soy sauce.
Getting out plates and forks Dylan started opening the boxes. “You got all my favorites. That’s a sign. Definitely beer.”
Dylan brought two bottles to the table, sat across from Liam, and handed him one. Twisting the cap off, he took a drink while watching Liam to try to figure out what was going on. They silently loaded their plates with egg rolls, Kung Pao Chicken, Garlic Shrimp, Sweet and Sour Pork, and stir-fried rice.
“They make the best sweet and sour pork. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I like your approach,” Dylan said between bites.
Liam nodded and continued eating.
Dylan put his fork down and took a sip of beer.
“Okay. I’m feeling better with some food in my stomach. Talk,” Dylan said.
Liam leaned back. “Aunt Bebe tapped me today to help her and her crew move Casey and Emily back to their house.”
Dylan set his beer down and straightened in his chair. “What?”
“You heard me right. It was basically the same way we moved them in next door: lots of people, lots of moving vans, and two very upset women. You no longer have neighbors.”
Dylan scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t believe this. Whose idea was it?”
“According to Aunt Bebe, Casey called her last night and asked if they could move back to their house this week. The house is done except for the finish work, so Aunt Bebe said yes. Aunt Bebe offered to call in the cavalry to get them moved in one day because she was sure her nephew was to blame for Casey being upset. After all, and I quote, ‘He doesn’t have the sense God gave a turnip.’”
Dylan slumped against his seat. “Anything else I should know?”
“I got to talk to Emily for a few minutes. She said you threw a temper tantrum and told Casey you were through with her. Emily said under the circumstances, Casey thought it would be best if you guys weren’t living next door to each other.”
“Did Emily say how Casey was doing?” Dylan asked.
“She didn’t have to. One look at Casey, and you could tell she’s been crying. Didn’t look like she’d gotten much sleep either.” Liam picked up his beer, drank, and stared at Dylan. “So, do you want to tell me what happened? Because right now, from where I’m sitting, I’d have to agree with Aunt Bebe’s turnip theory.”
Dylan felt his jaw clench and glared at his brother. “What about family loyalty? Innocent until proven guilty?”
“I brought supper, and I’m here now telling you what’s going on out of family loyalty, bro. So, don’t try to pull that crap with me,” Liam said.
Dylan sighed. “I didn’t do anything wrong. If you don’t believe me, ask Colin—he was here.” Dylan rolled his eyes and took another bite of his egg roll. “Colin and I walked onto the front porch, and I saw that black SUV that’s been parked across from Casey’s most of the time. I think it is tied to the problem Greg’s having with his company and that Casey is trying to solve. Anyway, every time I’ve tried to talk to these guys, they take off before I could get there, and they did it again. Casey was getting home, witnessed the SUV speed off, and she still didn’t believe me that she might be in danger. She refused to consider that I could be right. She wouldn’t listen to me. And I lost it. I did tell her I was done. I don’t know what I was thinking, letting my emotions rule my head. Feelings make people stupid. It’s not logical to think this could work when it didn’t work the first time, that the two of us, with such different outlooks, can have a solid relationship. She refuses to be realistic.”
He swiped a hand over his face. “And I can’t be with someone who won’t even listen to reason and causes me to worry about her safety constantly.” Dylan took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to keep himself from becoming angry all over again.
“Wow. You’d said something about the cable guy incident, but I didn’t know all of this. No wonder you got upset. Seeing the woman you love in danger—that would drive anyone crazy.” Liam pointed his beer at Dylan and nodded. “That would do it.”
“I don’t love her. That was just temporary insanity. And now that she’s gone, I can get my life back to normal and not be concerned that she’s going to get kidnapped every damn day. You know, I should be celebrating. This is going to make my life so much simpler.” Dylan lifted his bottle in the air. “To Aunt Bebe for getting Casey out of here.”
Liam narrowed his eyes as he clinked his beer against Dylan’s. “Whatever you say, bro. Whatever you say.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dylan stared out his office window at a Saturday as cloudy and gray as his mood. At least the family is having lunch together, and Aunt Marie is making her homemade pizza. Time with them is just what I need to get out of this funk. I did the right thing breaking up with Casey. It doesn’t make sense that I’m still upset.
Dylan drank his coffee and did more work on his current project. The next time he looked up, he realized he had just enough time to shower and dress before Colin would arrive. He was slipping on his boots when he heard Colin’s honking.
Dylan settled into the passenger seat. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem.”
“So, where is Rachel?”
“Rachel’s parents were hosting a gathering for an uncle. So, Rachel’s there catching up with all of them. We decided it was easier for us each to have lunch with our own family than trying to hit both. Plus, she knows how I feel about Aunt Marie’s pizzas.”
“I get that,” Dylan said.
Colin glanced at him. “You’re looking a little rough around the edges. Late night out on the town?”
Dylan snorted. “No. I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“From what I hear, you’re not the only one,” Colin said.
“What are you talking about?” Dylan asked.
“Rachel mentioned that Casey’s not sleeping well. I guess she’s still pretty upset about you breaking it off with her.” Colin shrugged.
Dylan leaned against the headrest and stared at the car’s ceiling. “I don’t know what else I could’ve done.”
“Maybe talking to her when you weren’t acting like a lunatic?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s too late now,” Dylan said. “And nothing has changed. Same two people, same problems.”
“I said just about those same words when Rachel broke up with me,” Colin said.
“But at least Rachel is reasonable. Casey isn’t even close,” Dylan said.
“Trust me, it didn’t feel like Rachel was being reasonable. It felt like she’d ripped my heart out and stomped all over it. Right now, it seems as if you’re the one who did the ripping.”
“I did the logical thing,” Dylan said.
“Okay. But tell me, are you happy?” Colin asked.
“Can we just change the subject?” Dylan grumbled.
“You just answered my question.”
Dylan glared at Colin. “Sometimes you are a pain in the ass.”
Colin grinned. “I try.”
Colin parked, and they cautiously approached the house, not turning their backs on any bush, tree, or even flowers that could conceal a tiny terror.
Dylan let out the breath he’d been holding. “I can’t wait for Aunt Bebe to quit attacking us. I feel like I’m trying to sneak into some top security location.”
“I know. By the time she’s done with this, we’ll all be able to slip past the best secret agents in the biz,” Colin said as he turned towards the patio.
“I’m going to the kitchen for a soda and to look for snacks. Do you want anything?” Dylan asked.
“Nope. I’m good. I’m going to check out what pizzas Aunt Marie is making.”
Dylan moved toward the back of the house.
“Kiai!”
“Hey,” Dylan jumped backward, falling into a painting, as Aunt Bebe landed in her favorite Kung Fu stance.
“Defend yourself, intruder,” she yelled.
Dylan pushed off the wall, regaining his balance. “Aunt Bebe, you’ve got to stop doing this!”
“Kiai!” Bebe advanced toward him with a jab, followed by several hand strikes.
Dylan backed up, blocking her moves with his forearms until they were in the kitchen. Dylan heard his dad laughing behind him and turned to confront him.
“It’s not funny, Dad.” Dylan felt the contact to his back. “Aunt Bebe, quit hitting me.”
“Then quit giving me such perfect openings,” Aunt Bebe said smugly. “He is right though, Rory, it’s not funny. Being able to defend your family is a very serious business. And I can tell you that not a single person here is prepared except for me,” she huffed.
“Aunt Bebe, I promise you we are prepared,” his father said. “We have a state-of-the-art alarm system tied directly to the police station and the alarm company. We are alerted if even a window is opened when it shouldn’t be. We do not need to learn martial arts to protect ourselves. While I realize it is an excellent way to tone and strengthen your body, you have got to stop jumping out of doorways and assaulting people. Somebody is going to end up getting hurt,” he pleaded with her.
“Not a forward thinker in the whole lot of you. Go ahead, live inside your boxes. I choose to live outside the box of conventional thinking. One day, you’ll be thanking me for this.” Aunt Bebe shook her head at them and frowned. “I’m going to change out of my gi before dinner.” She turned on her heel and left.
“If she were any further outside the box, they’d be hauling her away in a different white outfit with long arms that tie in the back,” Dylan grumbled. “Dad, can’t you make her stop?”
“Now, who’s the crazy one in the family? Asking me that?” Rory laughed and carried a tray loaded with chips and dips to the patio.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Later that evening, Dylan stood in his driveway and stared at the now-empty townhouse next door. As he turned toward his porch, he was caught in the headlights of a slick silver coupe as it pulled up beside him.
Maribeth jumped out of her car, charging right into his face. “What in the hell is wrong with you?”
“Good to see you, too,” Dylan said as he backed up from the slender finger poking his chest.
Maribeth put her hands on her hips. “I asked you a question.”
“I know,” Dylan said. “I think the question you should be asking is what’s wrong with your best friend?”
She growled and moved in closer. “I know what’s wrong with her. The idiot I’m talking to broke her heart.”
“Maribeth, I am not an idiot. I was trying to protect her. She wouldn’t talk to me or even listen to me.” He stepped back but found his heels against the porch steps.
“Why would she after she overheard you quizzing Bebe on why she got the job and how she couldn’t do it?” Maribeth asked.
Dylan shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Because you’re an idiot,” Maribeth smirked. “It was when you two were at your parent’s house for the Ohio State game.”
“I didn’t tell Aunt Bebe that Casey couldn’t do the job. Of course, she can do the job. She’s one of the smartest people I know,” Dylan said, throwing his hands up.
Maribeth scooted away as Dylan waved his arms and began to pace. “Wait.” He turned abruptly towards her. “Is that why she got sick ?” he asked, using air quotes.
Maribeth quietly eyed him, then nodded. “Yes. From what she heard, it sounded as if she only got the job as a favor to Bebe, not because she was the best candidate. And that the man who was supposed to love her thought she was incapable of doing the work and taking care of herself.”
“I never thought that.” Dylan pointed at her. “I was trying to protect her because I love her. I was trying to help.” Dylan began pacing again.
“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Maribeth said. “Wait. You said you love her. Do you?”
“Now, that wouldn’t make any sense at all,” Dylan said, grimacing.
“That’s not what I asked,” Maribeth prompted softly.
“I don’t know. I just know I’m tired of feeling whatever this is. I don’t like it.” Dylan stopped, rubbed his hands over his face, and then looked at her. “Why are you even here?”
“I was driving home and saw you standing there and decided to give you a piece of my mind after spending another evening trying to help my best friend feel better. I didn’t realize you’re as miserable as she is.” Maribeth shrugged, tilted her head, and watched him.
Dylan rubbed his hands over his face. “Does that make you feel better?”
“Much. It means there’s hope for you yet.” Maribeth smiled and got back in her car.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It’s been a week since I broke up with Casey. Logically, I should be fine. It was my decision, a reasonable choice under the circumstances. What’s not sensible is this ongoing lousy mood.
Dylan stood at his front window looking across at the neighbor’s pumpkins and fall flowers. I can’t even enjoy decorations now, thanks to her. This is totally her fault.
Dylan stalked through the house, put on a heavy flannel, grabbed a can of peanuts and a beer, and then situated himself on his deck. I know there is a sane way to handle this. It’s just a matter of figuring it out. It’s only taking longer because I’ve never been in this position.
Dylan threw some nuts in his mouth, glancing across at what had been her yard then washed the peanuts down with the beer. Now that most of the trees were bare, he had a clearer view of the small back patio. He heard the crunching of leaves before he saw the man cross from the side yard to the patio and peer in through the door. Dylan was up and creeping toward the gate that gave him access to Casey’s yard, grateful he had raked the leaves yesterday so that none crackled on his side of the fence. Dylan eased himself through the gate and was halfway to the patio when the man turned and noticed him.
Dylan closed the distance quickly. “What are you doing?”
The man was about Dylan’s height and wore the local gas company’s uniform. “We had a complaint about a gas smell at this address.”
“No one is living here, and I have the other half. There’s no gas smell here.” Dylan stared at him.
“Our records indicate that Ms. Casey Murray lives here. I need to speak with her before I can clear this report. Do you know where she is?” the man asked, flashing Dylan a friendly smile.
“No, I don’t know where she is. What’s your name?”
“Well. Okay then. Thanks for your help,” he said, walking back the way he’d come.
“Wait a minute.” Dylan went after him.
The man jogged away, yelling over his shoulder. “Sorry, I can’t talk. I’ve got another house to check.” He hopped into a white panel van and left.
It’s the cable guy all over again, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Casey doesn’t believe me, and I can’t make her trust me. There’s nothing more I can do.
Dylan stomped back to his house and picked up his beer. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes without taking a drink. I don’t love her anymore, so I shouldn’t be worried. I’m sure this is just typical concern for a friend. And as a good, loyal friend, I should make sure she’s okay.
Dylan sat up. Now, that makes sense. Dylan set his beer down, went in, grabbed his jacket and keys, and headed for Casey’s.
Dylan drove slowly past her house, noting that Casey and Emily’s cars were parked and the lights were on inside. He then went down the street, around the block, and passed the house again. He then did a two-block grid to ensure the panel van and the black SUV were not nearby. This doesn’t mean a thing. It’s what any caring friend would do. I should probably check on her every day just to be safe.
Feeling better than he had all week, he headed home.