Chapter 2
Anne couldn’t stop smiling. Having lunch with her daughter brought such joy, and this would likely be the first of many. She’d missed Emily so much since she left Texas to move to New York. They were sitting at their usual lunch spot—a table in the private room at Papa’s Place. Papa George and May gladly accommodated Steven Gherring so he could dine away from the public eye. She and Steven had dined at this table numerous times since they’d gotten married. But today Emily was with them, and Anne was excited. She gave her husband an appreciative glance. He’d been instrumental in convincing Emily to make the move to New York. Now, if she could only get Charlie to move here as well, everything would be perfect.
Emily had brought Spencer along to lunch. Anne attempted to tamp down her curiosity. Did their relationship involved more than friendship? She thought she’d seen him glancing at her daughter with rather adoring eyes, but she couldn’t be certain. They spoke as if they were simply buddies. She really wanted to question Emily, but she’d been warned not to interfere in her love life. Since she’d been matching up couples for a number of years, Anne found it quite difficult to resist the temptation to intervene a little.
“You’re not eating your lunch, Mom,” Emily observed. “I thought pot roast was your favorite.”
“I know, but I’m not hungry.”
“And I think it’s becoming a trend,” said Steven. “Are you losing weight?”
Steven was getting worried—she had to distract him.
“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten on a scale. I get like this when I get stressed.” She pinned him with a playfully stern look. “Like when I thought you were sleeping with Ellen.”
“Will you never let me forget that little incident?” His lips curled in a guilty smile before he turned, clarifying to Emily and Spencer. “I was only trying to make her jealous. And nothing happened at all.”
“You called me up to your apartment with some made-up excuse, and you had Ellen lounging on your couch with a glass of wine. And you had your shirt unbuttoned. And you had soft music playing...”
“But I was only pretending to do what you said you wanted me to do,” he protested in a playful tone. He defended himself again. “She was trying to get rid of me by pawning me off on another woman.”
Spencer’s eyes were the size of saucers, but Emily was chuckling.
“I admit it,” Anne grinned. “I asked for it. But don’t you remember I could hardly eat for four days.”
“But this has been longer, hasn’t it? And what are you stressed about?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you look so good today. I’m probably worried some girl is going to steal you from me.” She winked, hoping her flirtatious remark would throw him off his pursuit.
“You do look a little thin, Mom,” Emily countered. “You should try to eat. Maybe the meat is too much. Try your salad.”
“Fine. I’ll eat something.”
Anne forked a piece of lettuce and transferred it to her mouth. She ignored the wave of nausea and forced herself to swallow. If it had only been nausea, she could have handled it. But the nagging pain seemed to be there even when she wasn’t eating.
“Maybe you should see a doctor.”
Her ploy had failed—Steven was still watching her pick at her food.
“I’m not going to the doctor every time my appetite changes a smidgeon. I promise you I’m fine. But I don’t want everyone to watch me while I eat. Can we change the subject please?”
Spencer obliged. “Well, I’m going with a group to hike the Appalachian Trail this weekend. I invited Emily, but you guys are welcome to come along.”
Anne watched her daughter’s reaction. Her eyes were a little wide. Had she really agreed to go on the hike? She didn’t usually go for outdoor activities, except for skiing.
“Thanks Spencer,” said Steven. “We’ll get back to you on that.” He looked back to Anne and indicated her food with his eyes.
Her mind wandered while Spencer explained about the upcoming hike and the group that was going. She took another bite of food and suppressed a shudder as she swallowed. Maybe Steven was right. She’d tried to ignore the symptoms that had plagued her off and on over the past month or so.
After she married Steven Gherring, she’d felt more relaxed and stress-free than she had for years. Her appetite had been great. But recently she’d had stomach pain and nausea. She hadn’t been on a scale, but her pants were hanging loosely on her hips. She’d estimate she’d lost at least ten pounds, probably more. But she’d tried not to think about it, because she had a nagging fear. Would she meet the same fate as her mom?
Her mother had lost a battle to stomach cancer when Anne was only three years old, and her father had never married again. She tried to tell herself her symptoms were different, but they matched the information she’d found on the website. She knew she shouldn’t wait. It was important to diagnose cancer as early as possible. But she couldn’t bear the thought of Steven suffering through what her father had. It wasn’t fair. Steven had been alone for fifty years. She couldn’t leave him alone again. On the other hand, it might only be an ulcer. She berated herself for assuming the worst.
She gazed at her husband as he chatted with the kids. He was so handsome. His dark hair was peppered with grey, his blue eyes intense. His face was chiseled with a strong jaw, but softened with deep dimples that appeared even when he wasn’t smiling. She loved him so much. She couldn’t tell him until she knew for sure, because she didn’t want him to be worried if it wasn’t true. But she wouldn’t put it off any longer—she’d see a doctor right away. If it was cancer, she’d fight for her life. And she’d beat it somehow. She wouldn’t leave him alone again.
Determined to call the doctor and make an appointment as soon as lunch was over, she pushed the food around on her plate to make it appear emptier.
“Anne?” All the levity disappeared from Steven’s voice. “What aren’t you telling me?”
At his words and the severity of his tone, she felt the blood drain from her face.
“Nothing. Nothing. I was trying to remember something.” She rose from the table, scrambling for an excuse. “I remember what it was. I forgot to mail our RSVP for the wedding. You know Sam and Tanner’s wedding? I’ve got to get it in the mail before it’s too late.”
“Anne!” Steven rose from his chair and pinned her with his glare. “Stop avoiding my question. What is it?”
“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just...”
She watched in confusion as the sides of the room turned black and closed in on Steven’s face. Then she saw the floor coming toward her. Then she saw nothing.
* * *
Forcing her eyes open,Anne gradually focused on Steven’s worried face.
“You’re in an ambulance. Stop trying to push the mask off your face. It’s oxygen.”
An ambulance. She was going to the hospital. She had to tell him—he couldn’t find out from the doctors. He’d be so angry. She struggled to speak, her words muffled by the mask.
“She’s trying to say something,” Steven told the paramedic. “Can she move the mask?”
“Sure, we can take it off for a minute.”
How could she break the news to him? Her eyes filled with tears, and she sobbed out the words.
“I th-think it m-may be cancer.”
“No, sweetheart, no.” He soothed her, pushing a stray strand of hair off her face. “It’s not cancer. It’s probably not a big deal. Maybe it’s appendicitis.”
“No. M-my mother died from it—stomach cancer. And now I have the symptoms. I didn’t want to tell you...”
“No! That’s not it. You have something else wrong with you. It’s not serious.” His brows creased, and his jaw flexed.
“But, my mom...”
“No! It isn’t cancer!” He blinked rapidly and rubbed at his eyes. “It isn’t—it can’t be. Not now, when I’ve only just found you. It can’t be that...” He kissed her all over her face, saying, “No, no, no, no...”
Anne sobbed even harder and grasped his neck in desperation. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do this to you.”
“Stop. You didn’t do anything, and we don’t know anything. We’ll just do tests and see what the doctor says. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Anne knew the words he repeated to comfort her were his futile attempt to convince himself.
* * *
Anne and Stevensat beside each other in tense silence. Their hands were clasped between the two upholstered armchairs in the doctor’s office in front of the empty desk.
“But what exactly did she say on the phone? Did she sound upset?” Anne asked for probably the tenth time.
“She said she wanted to talk to us together in person. That’s all. And she didn’t sound upset... And you’re squeezing all the blood out of my fingers.”
“Sorry.” She forced a weak smile, attempting to pull her hand away.
“I’m only kidding. I don’t want you to worry so much. Everything’s going to be fine. No matter what, everything’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. And you’re assuming it’s something really bad.”
“But if it wasn’t serious, wouldn’t she tell us on the phone?”
“Not necessarily—“
A creak behind them announced the doctor’s entrance through the office door.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. Thanks for coming in.” She shook their hands and sat behind her desk, opening her laptop. “Let me bring up your reports here... So.” She smiled at the nervous couple. “I know you’re worried about the possibility of cancer. And we haven’t totally eliminated that, but it’s highly unlikely.”
“Why haven’t we eliminated it?” Steven asked. “Can’t we do an x-ray or CT scan or something?”
“Well, we don’t like to use radiation during early pregnancy.” She smiled again.
“Pregnancy? I couldn’t possibly be pregnant. How could that happen?”
The doctor raised her eyebrows. “I think you know how it happens. Isn’t it possible?”
“Well it’s... It’s... I guess it’s possible. But I’m too old—I thought I was starting menopause.” She felt blood rushing to her face. “And I’ve lost weight, not gained weight—”
Steven came out of his stupor. “She’s pregnant? We’re pregnant? Are you sure?”
“Oh, it’s very certain you’re pregnant. We did a blood test. Now, at your age, this is a high-risk pregnancy. If you carry to term, you’d deliver at age forty-six.”
“What does that mean? Is it dangerous for her to be pregnant?” Steven was gripping her fingers so tightly her knuckles were white.
“No, but there’s a high chance of miscarriage or, barring that, chromosomal abnormality.” She leaned forward to emphasize her words. “You might choose to terminate the pregnancy.”
“No!” Steven almost shouted the word. She saw him flinch and turn toward her with a weak smile. “I mean, I’m sorry... I should have asked what you thought—“
“No, I agree.” She squeezed his hand. “That is, if it’s really true. If I really am pregnant, I wouldn’t want to terminate.”
“Oh, it’s really true. Now, we’ll need to help you manage this nausea so you can start eating...”
* * *
Anne staredwith unseeing eyes out the limousine window as the New York City streets passed by, silence hanging heavy in the air. She glanced at Steven.
“What’re you thinking?”
“I think I’m in shock.” One corner of his mouth kicked upward, and he took her hand, raising it to his lips. “I wasn’t planning this, but now I want it to happen. A baby.”
“If I’d known you really wanted a baby, I’d never have married you. You should have a younger wife like I said all along.”
“You’re not going to start trying to find a different wife for me again, are you? I don’t think I could handle another of your crusades.” He chuckled, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “And anyway, I didn’t even want to have a baby until I thought I could have one with you.”
“Okay, I promise I won’t try to find you a new wife. Believe me, I’ve finally admitted to myself I never want you to be with anyone else. But can we keep it a secret for now? The doctor says I’ll most likely miscarry in the first trimester. I don’t want to tell everybody and then... You know…”
“No, we don’t have to tell anyone unless you want to. But you don’t even want to tell the girls? You’ll have to tell them something—Emily’s really worried.”
“No, I think I’d be embarrassed. And, I think they might be embarrassed, too.”
“They love you. They won’t be embarrassed.”
“I don’t know.”
“And you know you won’t be able to keep it a secret for long. Especially since the doc gave you medicine for the nausea.” He patted her thin tummy. “I can’t wait until you start getting all fat.”
“I’ll tell you right now if you ever call me fat, you’ll be sorry.”
“Okay. I promised to call you skinny the whole time, even if you look like a whale.” His adoring smile brought on another surge of tears. “What’s wrong now?”
“I don’t know...”
He scooped her into his lap. “This is just hormones making you weepy.”
“But... What happens if our baby has something wrong with him?”
“Him?” He smiled. “Do you think we’re having a boy? Maybe I might like a little girl.” He hugged her close, kissing her hair. “And we’ll love our baby no matter what. Right? And we can’t change anything by worrying about it.”
“But what if I have a miscarriage? The doctor said it would probably happen.” A single tear rolled down her cheek, and he wiped it off with his thumb as he caressed her jaw.
He chuckled a little. “You know, two hours ago, we didn’t even know we wanted a baby. And now you’re crying because we might not have one.”
“I know, it’s silly—“
“No, it’s not silly.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “If we lose this baby, maybe we can figure out another way to have one. We could even adopt.”
“Okay... a baby...” She gave him a weepy smile. “But it’s a secret. We won’t tell anybody, right?”
“We’ll do whatever you want. But won’t you start showing soon? The doctor said the ultrasound showed you’re already at least seven weeks—she could see a heartbeat. And she said you could be as much as ten weeks according to when the nausea started.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t show very early with the girls. I can probably hide it until I’m about sixteen weeks.”
Steven’s face fell. “Oh really? That long?”
“You want to tell people?”
“Of course I do—I’m excited. And Gram is going to be over the moon,” he said, referring to his ninety-six-year-old grandmother, who’d played an essential role in their courtship.
“I’ll make a deal with you. If you’ll wait until I’m starting to show, I’ll let you be the one to tell everyone.”
“Hmmm. And perhaps we could add something else to the deal?”
“What’s that?”
“I think we should keep you in bed as much as possible.”
“No. The doctor specifically said bed rest wasn’t necessary, and it wouldn’t prevent a miscarriage anyway.”
“Who said anything about resting?” He began to nuzzle her neck.
“Steven,” she squeaked, and they both dissolved into laughter.
“What are we going to tell everyone for now?” asked Anne.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who looked up the differential diagnosis when you thought it was stomach cancer.” Then his face was suddenly stern. “And by the way, we’re not through with the discussion about why you kept that from me for so long.”
“I know it was wrong. We’ll talk about it later. Okay?”
“No fair flashing those big brown puppy dog eyes at me. We’ll drop it for now. But we will discuss it, because it will never happen again.”
“But as for what to tell the others... hmmm... Let’s go with stomach ulcer. It explains the loss of appetite and weight loss. So here’s the plan. You tell everyone it was only an ulcer and I’m embarrassed about it. Then no one will ask me about it, and I won’t have to lie.”
“But I’ll have to lie.”
“But you’re so much better at it than I am. Please?”
“Fine, I’ll do it. But you know this could backfire on you.”
“I feel better—everything’s settled for now.”
“But one more thing.” His bright blue eyes twinkled. “Let’s go home and celebrate before we go to work.”
“I don’t know. What if the boss finds out?”
“I’m willing to bet he’d approve.”
* * *
Emily regardedher mom with suspicion. Something didn’t quite add up. She’d come by her cubicle to assure her everything was fine, but she’d brought Steven along to be her mouthpiece.
“So, you have an ulcer? And you passed out because of an ulcer?”
“She passed out because she was dehydrated,” Steven clarified. “But she’ll be fine since they’ve given her medicine.”
“And have you called Charlie to explain? She’s worried out of her mind.”
“I thought you could call her,” Anne suggested in a pleading voice.
“Why wouldn’t you call her yourself?”
“Oh... I could... but I thought you’d be better at making her not worry. You’ve always been able to calm your sister down.”
“And where is this ulcer?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can have ulcers in different areas. I know that because my boss in Fort Worth had an ulcer and explained it to me. At the time I thought it was too much information, but now I’m glad I know. So where is your ulcer?”
“In my stomach?”
“So it’s a peptic ulcer?”
“Uhmm.” Anne glanced at Steven. “That’s right. Isn’t it honey?”
His lips pulled back in a grimace. “Sure, that’s what the doctor said.”
“And what tests did they do to confirm it?”
“Oh, I was so out of it, I don’t remember.” Her mom studied the water bottle in her hands. “What tests did they do, sweetheart?”
“Of course, I don’t know what tests were performed, since I wasn’t allowed to be with you.” Did Steven sound annoyed?
“Y’all didn’t get much information from the doctor this morning,” Emily observed. “What—”
Spencer’s arrival interrupted her question.
“Mrs. Gherring, I’m glad you’re okay. You really scared us yesterday. What happened?”
Anne pressed her lips together, glancing at Steven.
“She has a peptic ulcer. They gave her medicine, and she’ll be perfectly fine.” The tone of his voice closed the subject from further discussion.
Spencer nodded. “My dad had one of those. He takes medicine, and he’s great. I think it’s only dangerous if it’s a bleeding ulcer.”
“Is yours a bleeding ulcer, Mom?”
“No. It’s just a plain one. No blood. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Hey! Since you’re okay, do you guys want to go with us on the hike this weekend?” Spencer’s eyes were bright and eager.
“Sure.” Her mom smiled.
“No, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Steven pinned Anne with narrowed eyes. “It might hurt your ulcer.”
“My ulcer will be fine. It’s only a hike.”
“But what if you fall? It might be dangerous. It might… It might turn into a bleeding ulcer.”
“I won’t go if you don’t want me to. But it would be fun.” She added in a quiet voice. “We should have fun together while we can.”
“Can we have a word in private?” He grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall.
“Do you have hiking boots?” Spencer broke Emily out of her reverie.
“Me? Hiking boots? Why would I want hiking boots?”
“Oh... I thought you were going on the hike this weekend.”
“Well, you assumed I wanted to go. I never actually said I was going. It’s not really my thing.”
His face fell.
“I’m sorry... I understand. It’s only a bunch of people going as friends. But I didn’t mean to push you into something you didn’t want to do. I thought... You know... It could be fun.”
He patted her shoulder and she jumped at the tingle that shot through her. He jerked his hand away, blushing furiously. Her heart was racing. What was it about him that affected her like that? Granted, she wasn’t a real touchy person, but she didn’t usually feel electricity from casual contact. He made her feel out of control, and she didn’t like it. Or did she? She considered the warmth that had spread through her. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Steven returned without Anne.
“Hey, Spencer. We’re going on the hike after all. Okay? Call us with the details.”
“Will do.”
Emily hurried to catch up with her mom. Perhaps she should go on the hike, simply to keep an eye on her mother. Not because she wanted to spend more time with Spencer, of course. She’d simply have to sacrifice for the good of her mother.
“I’m going. What do I have to do?”
“Well,” Spencer’s eyes revealed his bewilderment. “I probably need to take you shoe-shopping.”
“Ughh! I hate shopping!”
“A girl who hates shopping? One thing’s for sure… You’re not predictable.”
Emily called Charlie after work.“They said Mom has an ulcer, but they were acting pretty weird. Mom was letting Steven do all the talking. And they didn’t seem to know much about her condition. Wouldn’t you think they’d ask a lot of questions about a condition that put Mom in the emergency room?”
“Yeah, I agree. Mom might not ask detailed questions, but Steven would for sure. Do you think it’s more serious than they’re letting on?”
“I really do. Maybe it’s a really bad ulcer, a bleeding ulcer, and Steven’s lying to cover it up.”
“Or maybe it’s something else. Did she look bad?”
“No, she looked okay today. But she looked awful yesterday. And she’s really thin—I bet she’s lost ten pounds.” She chewed her lip. “And Steven’s obviously still worried about her. He can be overprotective at times, but I’m not sure if that’s it. And Mom said something to him about doing things together while they can.”
“Surely it’s not something really bad,” Charlie reasoned. “If she was going to die, I think she’d tell us. Wouldn’t she?”
“I think so, but maybe she might wait for the right time. Like, she might not tell us until after your birthday.”
“You’re right. That does sound like Mom. So, I know you’ve probably already researched this. What do you think she might have?”
“I looked up all the possible causes of weight loss. There are all kinds of things, including ulcers. The things that seemed most likely were Crohn’s Disease, Ulcerative Colitis...” Emily hesitated before she said the scary word. “And cancer.”
“Cancer? She wouldn’t keep that from us.”
“I don’t think so either, but as long as they’re lying to us, we can’t be sure. And surely they wouldn’t be going hiking this weekend if she had cancer.”
“They’re going hiking? Man, I wish I could be there.”
“Actually, we’re going hiking.”
“You’re going hiking? Ohmygosh—hell is freezing over. Why on earth are you going hiking?”
“I’m going to keep an eye on Mom.”
“Really? And who else is going on said hike?”
Emily felt herself turning red. Thank goodness her sister couldn’t see her—she’d tease her without mercy. “Look. Spencer’s going. Okay? But that’s not why I’m going.”
“Hmmm... If you say so.”
“Charlie, I’m telling the truth. I’d pretty much told him I wasn’t going when I found out Mom and Steven were going.”
“Okay. Okay. Don’t get so defensive, Sister.”
“And now I have to go buy hiking boots because I don’t own any. You know how I hate shopping. And Spencer’s taking me. In fact he’ll be here in ten minutes to pick me up.”
“Oh? So Spencer’s going to help you try on shoes?” Amusement crept into Charlie’s voice. “And have you shaved your legs for the shopping trip?”
“Oh no—I forgot. And I have ape legs. Gotta go. Bye, Sis.”
“So what typeof shoes am I getting?” Emily asked Spencer as she puzzled over the myriad of choices on the wall. “Boots? Do they need to come up over my ankle?”
Spencer frowned as he considered her question, his eyes wandering down her freshly shaved legs.
“I think boots would be overkill for this hike. You don’t really need the protection. And having boots come over your ankle doesn’t necessarily provide ankle support. Boots are more for guarding against abrasion. Also, I think you’re more likely to get blisters from boots if they rub your ankles.”
Emily blushed as he continued to stare at her legs. She glanced down. What was he staring at? Had she missed something when she shaved?
“I think we should get you in a good trail shoe with a stiff sole and heavy tread. You probably won’t be doing water crossings...” He turned to the shoes and started picking a few possibilities. Emily released the breath she’d been holding. At least he’d finally quit staring at her legs. She studied the pile of shoes in his arms.
“I like those with the turquoise. The ones with the brown and orange are ugly, and they won’t match anything I have.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to pick a shoe based on the color? You need to pick one that feels comfortable and supportive.”
“That’s fine. I’ll pick a comfortable and supportive shoe, but I want them to be cute, too.”
As the salesman took the samples and disappeared into the stockroom, Spencer turned back to Emily.
“You probably need good hiking socks, too.” She opened her mouth, but his quelling look stalled her protest. “Don’t argue about this. I don’t want you to get blisters. Don’t you wear special ski socks when you go skiing?”
“Yes,” she admitted, feeling a distinct loss of control. She should have researched hiking shoes and hiking before she went shopping. Could you learn to hike by studying it? She wasn’t sure, but she would try. That was how she handled every aspect of her life. She studied situations in advance, preparing for every contingency. She didn’t like surprises. Depending on others led to certain disappointment. The only person Emily Best trusted with utmost confidence was Emily Best.
The salesman returned with an armload of shoeboxes, and she sat down to try them on. He opened the first box, offering her the distasteful orange and brown striped shoe. Reluctantly, she slid her foot into the shoe.
“I don’t know… It rubs on my heel,” she lied.
“Hmmm.”
Spencer knelt down next to her, probing his fingers around the heel of her foot. Overcome by a sudden light-headedness, she closed her eyes and gripped the chair. He was touching her foot. His arm was pressing against her leg. Tingles were shooting up from where his skin contacted hers. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her pounding heart. Still he continued to examine the fit of the shoe, oblivious to her reaction. At least she hoped he was oblivious. Unable to bear the sensations any longer, she used the toes of her other foot to wrench the offending shoe off, flinging it up in the air in the process. The tumbling brown and orange streak narrowly missed the salesman’s head as he ducked.
Spencer jumped back along with the shoe salesman, both staring with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Emily felt the blood pounding in her face. “I... I don’t like that shoe.”
They stood frozen for an eternity before Spencer spoke to the salesman from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t think she likes that one. Maybe we should try another style.”
“Is there a pair here you do like?”
“The turquoise ones.”
His hands were shaking as he searched through the boxes, murmuring quietly to Spencer, “Which ones are turquoise?”
“She’s talking about these shoes with the blue on them.”
He handed the selected box to Spencer. “I’ll let you guys try these on. I need to... uhmm... I need to check something in the stockroom.” He dumped the other boxes on the floor beside Spencer and fled.
Emily jerked the chosen box from his hands. “I can do it. I don’t need any help.”
“Okay.” He held up his hands and backed away.
She slipped her foot into the cute shoe, but immediately noted a seam rubbing on the side. Pulling the shoe off in disgust, she stuffed it back in the box. “Let me see the others. Maybe there’s one that isn’t too ugly.”
Spencer handed her the boxes, one at a time. She peered inside two boxes and immediately rejected them. The third box held a black pair with small flashes of lime green.
“These are pretty cute.” She slipped her foot in and rejoiced inwardly. Nothing was rubbing—it felt comfortable. “Great. I’ll take these.”
“Wait. Let me see where your toe is and how they fit around your heel.” He knelt down and reached toward her foot.
“No need.” Emily stood, clomping awkwardly in one shoe, avoiding his scalding touch at all costs. “This one fits great. It doesn’t rub anywhere, and it’s not too loose.”
“You should at least put the other one on and walk around for a while.”
“Fine!” she growled, flopping back into the chair. She picked up the shoebox and fumbled with the other shoe, struggling to free it from its plastic shape-holder. After a few seconds and a few frustrated grunts, Spencer reached out to help her. When she saw his hand approaching, she dropped the shoe on the floor like a hot potato.
His eyebrows lifted as he retrieved the shoe. Removing the shoe’s plastic form, he held it toward her, keeping a careful distance. Her lack of self-control not only embarrassed, but also irritated her. She had to get over her fear of touching Spencer. She simply needed to ignore the sparky thing that always occurred.
She laced up the ties, obediently walking in both shoes for several minutes until Spencer seemed satisfied. He insisted she try the shoes on with hiking socks, and she complied despite her impatience.
“It’s just a sock. It won’t make a difference.”
“Don’t you try on your ski boots with your ski socks?”
“Maybe... But this is taking such a long time. And I’m hungry.”
He shook his head, but his face had a broad grin. “I’m gonna take a lot of snacks on the hike Saturday. You’re pretty grouchy when you’re hungry.”
Emily couldn’t suppress a begrudging chuckle. When she checked out, she winced a bit at the cost.
“These are good shoes,” he soothed. “You’ll be able to wear them for a long time. I’m sure you’ll get your money’s worth out of them.”
“You’re assuming I’ll go on more than one hike.”
“Okay, we’d better get some dinner into you right away.” He winked, as his dimples peeked out.
“It’s too late for dinner; I think I need some chocolate in an IV.”
“Finally, you’re smiling. I was about to give up.”
“Sorry to be so difficult.”
“It was worth the wait.”
She pondered his words as they walked. He’d certainly been patient with her. Her mom and sister always complained when they took her shopping, saying she spoiled the experience. And they hadn’t even had to put up with her spasmodic episodes in response to random skin contact. He was pretty nice—for a guy. And he was nice to look at, too. Of course, she only liked him as a friend.
She caught his eyes and flashed him a sincere smile. He snapped his face away, but she still noticed his ears reddened. Was he blushing?
Spencer felthis face heat up, and quickly turned his head to the side. She’d given him one of those full-on devastating smiles. He’d really had to work hard for this one. She must really, really hate shopping. She’d been acting awfully strange—jumping, dropping things, tossing shoes into the air. And she was really stubborn, even more stubborn than his four sisters. And that was saying a lot. He hated to be so demanding, but he knew he’d feel responsible if she got blisters on the hike. After all, he’d talked her into it when she obviously didn’t want to go.
He wasn’t quite sure how he’d accomplished it. He guessed he’d convinced her by emphasizing they’d be going as friends. That seemed to be her main concern. Just his luck... Girls had thrown themselves at him for years while he’d insisted on remaining friends. But since he’d met a girl special enough for his first kiss, she had instituted the friendspolicy. God must have a sense of humor.
He felt really protective of her, the way he felt about his sisters. No. Nothing like the way he felt about his sisters. He never thought about kissing his sisters, and he thought about kissing Emily all the time.
He turned his face toward her again. “You want to try the best pizza in New York City?”
“Oh, yeah—that sounds great.”
Her smile was radiant. He needed to remember that. Pizza made her smile. Shopping did not.
“It’s in the next block.”
She nodded her head, picking up the pace almost imperceptibly. She must be really hungry. He observed her without turning his head. She was chewing on her bottom lip the way she always did when she was thinking about something. Her lips were so full and soft-looking. He could imagine how they would feel against his own. She continued to worry her lip, as she turned to look at him. He darted his eyes to the sidewalk.
“I’m buying my own pizza.”
“But it was my idea. It won’t make it a date just because I buy you a slice of pizza.”
“Yes it will. It’s our house rules.”
“Then don’t tell your mom and your sister. If they don’t know, it won’t be a date.”
“But I’ll know, and Charlie will know. She always knows. I can lie to Mom, but Charlie always knows.”
“Fine. You can buy your own pizza. But just so you know, that’s not how I was raised.”
“What do you mean?”
Spencer hesitated. “You’ll probably think this sounds chauvinistic, but my dad taught me to respect women. You know, to treat them with deference. To open doors and speak politely, to protect them, and... He taught me to pay for their dinner.”
“He didn’t really tell you to pay for every woman’s dinner, did he?”
“Well, not exactly. But he did teach me if I asked someone to go eat with me, I’m offering to pay for the meal. That would be true even if you were a guy. It’s especially true since you’re a woman.”
“Because I’m the weaker sex?”
“Because you’re the fairer sex. Nothing weak about you.”
She chuckled. “Okay, I don’t think you’re a chauvinist. But, I can afford to buy my own pizza, and there’s no reason for you to pay.” Her face took on a determined look to which he was growing accustomed.
“You know, that pride of yours is going to get you in trouble someday.”