Chapter 9
NORA
LIGHT TAPPING on my door sends my heart into overdrive, and my head turns, my eyes glued to the natural wood.
I’ve been avoiding Allison this past week, since she asked me to go get my license, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to break down and ask her what she’s going to do with it.
Is she just making a copy for her records, or is she uploading it into some kind of database?
Clearing my throat, I try to sound casual. “Yes?”
“You have a phone call; it’s Ryder.” Allison’s chirpy voice is on the other side of the door.
My chest deflates as the breath I sucked in rushes out. Taking a few calming breaths, I call back to her, “Coming.” I almost feel like a teenager again at Grams’ house when she would come to my room to tell me I had a phone call.
The house has been quiet the past couple of days, I think I’m the only guest right now, but it’s Thursday, and I bet the weekend reservations show up tonight or tomorrow. Jogging down the stairs, I round the front desk where Allison left the phone sitting on the desk for me.
“Hello?”
Ryder’s deep voice booms through the phone, and I see him in my mind standing with his hand on his hip like he did the morning when he came for my keys last week. “Ms. Abernathy, it’s Ryder’s Garage. Do you have a minute to talk about your car?”
Walking into the sitting room with the cordless phone, I stand in front of the window to watch the people walking on the sidewalks outside, it’s a gloomy day and I’m hoping he’s not going to make it gloomier. “Please tell me you have good news.”
The hesitation sends my heart into my stomach. “Well, good and bad, which would you like first?”
Great. There’s bad news. Sliding my fingertips up my forehead, I squeeze my eyes closed. “Just start with the bad and we can finish with the good.”
“The bad news is that the parts I need for the repairs are backordered. Your car being a German car makes things a little more difficult, especially since I’m not a specialist for those types of cars. I have a couple of suggestions if you’re open to hear them.”
Surely this will get better. I clear my throat. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“First, if you want, I can tow the car to a specialist I know in Tulsa and he will have it done quicker, however, it will cost almost twice as much.”
He can’t be serious. Is this the good news? The groan that works its way up my throat is involuntary and I know he probably heard it on the other end.
“I have another suggestion which will cost you less money and get you on the road quicker.”
This sounds promising.
“The amount of money you are spending on repairs could easily get you a comparable domestic SUV and I know someone who is trying to sell one.”
Is he seriously trying to sell me a car right now? What he’s saying makes sense, but I don’t know enough about cars or maintenance on cars to feel confident making a move either way.
That car was the first grown-up thing I bought, and I was so sure that Grams would be proud of me, especially since I bought it with money she left me, which wasn’t much, but that car represents more than just a car. It’s kind of my link to her in a sort-of way.
I silently consider my options as I watch people on the sidewalks outside in raincoats, carrying umbrellas, darting from cars to shops and vice versa. I need to educate myself before I blindly get deeper into this conversation.
Taking a deep breath, I let my lips blow a small raspberry. “Do you have to have an answer right now?”
“Nope, if you need to think about it, you can call me back later or tomorrow.”
The air around me feels heavy and I close my eyes. “Okay. I’ll call you back. Thank you.”
Opening my eyes, I touch the button on the handheld to hang up and then look back outside. Kinley’s familiar SUV pulls into the driveway and a little part of me perks up, and I stifle a giggle as I watch her struggle with her big belly.
Kinley turns in the driver’s seat, her round, beachball of a belly is obviously in the way, and gets out of her SUV to waddle across the gravel driveway and up the porch steps.
Her long hair is in a thick, messy bun on top of her head, and her jean jacket is obviously something she wore pre-pregnancy because there’s no way it could cover her belly.
Even though the temperatures are cool outside, she is wearing another shorts jumpsuit, purple this time, displaying her long, thin legs, and a pair of tennis shoes and ankle socks.
The screen door squeaks as she opens it, and I turn to go to the foyer.
The swinging doors between the kitchen and dining room open when Allison comes through with a tray of food.
Today she is wearing a pair of high-waisted, stonewash jeans that look like they stepped out of a vintage eighties catalog and a baggy t-shirt tucked into the yoke of the denim.
Her curls are swept up the sides of her head, complemented by a bouffant of bangs on her forehead. I think it’s safe to say that Allison likes eighties fashion. When I see the high-top Converse and her jeans pushed into the socks above the tops of her shoes, I almost laugh out loud.
“Hey!” Allison’s face lights up when she sees Kinley, and she sets the tray on a table to give her a hug over the protruding belly.
“Hey…” Kinley’s greeting is nothing like Allison’s perky one, and Allison holds her arms and steps back.
“Girl, the bags under your eyes could hold my groceries. Are you okay?”
Kinley heaves a big sigh. “Yes. I can’t flippin’ get comfortable at night, this little boy loves to move around when I’m trying to rest, so I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. Please tell me you have cream cheese and olives; that seems to be the only thing I can think about lately.”
Allison smiles. “You want it on bread or just by the spoonful?”
Kinley’s shoulders sag, and she takes a breath of relief. “Thank God! The biggest damn spoon you have, please.”
“You got it! Sit! I’ll be right back.” Allison waves toward the dining table and disappears into the kitchen.
I’m still standing in the wide, arched doorway of the sitting room with the phone in my hand as Kinley sits at the table. When she looks over and sees me, her face lights up and she smiles. “Hi! You’re still here.”
Her sentiment mirrors her brother’s, but hers is a pleasant surprise while his was accusatory, like I’m intruding on something by being in the same town.
I still haven’t figured out why he dislikes me so much, but I haven’t seen him at the pub since he glared at me like an outsider a few nights ago.
Walking to the front desk, I set the phone next to the desk calendar that has sticky notes and scribbles all over it. Giving her a small wave, I smile and say, “Yep, still here.”
With one hand on her belly, she waves me over with the other. “Come, sit and have breakfast with us.”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”
Her face twists in mock sarcasm. “Pfft, I have breakfast with Allison every week when I come into town to take Tuck to his physical therapy.”
That night on the side of the road last week, I noticed a marked limp when he walked. And there was that hiss of pain while we were talking in the truck. I also saw a slight limp when he left the pub the other night, and I’d wondered what was causing it.
Sitting in the chair to her left, I decide not to tell her I noticed. “Physical therapy?”
Her hand constantly rubs her belly; I don’t think she even notices she’s doing it. “Oh yeah, he was injured while on some kind of special operation in the Air Force last year. Almost lost his leg.”
Allison pushes through the swinging doors with another tray and sets it down in front of Kinley.
It has a square of cream cheese cut into small wedges on a dessert plate, and there are three condiment bowls around the plate holding green olives, black olives, strawberry jam, and a small sleeve of crackers.
Kinley excitedly holds her hands in prayer position in front of her mouth as she hungrily eyes the assortment in front of her. “You’re a fucking saint.” She places her hand on Allison’s arm, her gaze not leaving what looks like the best thing to happen to her in a while. “I love you.”
Allison laughs as she waves her hand across her front. “Will you go with me when I meet St. Peter to tell him that, because I think he might call into question extensively breaking the no fornication rule.”
The ease and familiarity between them squeezes my chest. I always wanted a best friend, but I was so shy and introverted in school, I only made surface friends. Nothing deep and meaningful like the two women in front of me, I can tell they have been friends for a long time.
While they chatter about the afterlife and then move on to how Kinley is feeling, Allison sets out the food she brought out on the first tray when Kinley got here. “Here, Nora, have some breakfast.”
Not wanting to take anything she made for herself, I sit back in my chair to put distance between me and the food. “Oh, I don’t want to take your breakfast.”
She pauses, and her eyes settle on mine, her eyebrows pulled together like I said something weird. “I made enough for you, too. I was going to knock on your door to ask you down, but Ryder beat me to it.”
My heart warms. I haven’t been included for a long time, not since Grams was alive. Sitting up straight in my chair, I smile and take one of the empty plates. “Okay. Thanks.”
Kinley moans, and both of us swing our heads in her direction. Her pink manicured fingernails have cream cheese on them, and she’s licking her fingers while she chews and does a little happy dance in her chair with her eyes closed.
Covering my mouth with my fingers, I stifle a laugh. She looks like the dancing gopher on Caddyshack with its big round belly.
Allison breaks into a full-belly laugh. “Damn, girl, you almost look post-coitus.”
She sits back in her chair, her shoulders slumped, and opens her eyes. “Don’t tell Rhys, but this is almost better than sex right now.”
Rhys must be her husband. I glance at the ring on her finger.
It’s a large solitaire with channel-set stones in a platinum band next to another platinum band with more stones set in it.
My engagement ring was simpler than that.
It was big, but it reminded me of something a man would pick because it was safe.
It wasn’t something that I had dreamed of as a little girl, but I told myself it’s the thought that counts.
The food smells heavenly, so I add bacon, sausage and eggs to my plate. There is also a stack of French toast, but it won’t fit on my plate, as I look around the table, Allison hands me another plate with a smile.
“Are you still trying to use sex to bring on labor?” Allison chuckles as she takes a bite of bacon.
“Much to Rhys’s delight, yes.” She rubs her belly again as she stuffs another piece of cream cheese with an olive in her mouth.
She talks with her mouth full. “He loves this beach ball, he wakes up hard and goes to bed hard. I, on the other hand, can’t wait to get this little guy’s feet out of my lungs and his head off my bladder.
But the doctor says that orgasms can help bring on labor, so bring on the sex. ”
They chatter back and forth for a minute as I pour syrup over my French toast. In my head, I can hear Matt saying, ‘Should you be eating that much sugar? Your butts looking bigger lately.’ The usual pinch of shame and anger heats my face, and I pour even more syrup on the toast.
“So, when’s Tuck’s appointment?” The mention of his name pulls me out of my mini dark spiral, and I look up at Kinley.
“We have to be there at two.”
All humor falls from Allison’s face, and she stabs a piece of scrambled egg with her fork. “How’s he doing?”
Pushing the tray away, all Kinley’s playfulness evaporates. Somehow, her grumpy brother manages to upset her even when he’s not around.
With a sad, deep breath, she looks at her friend. “God, I miss him. No matter what we do, he’s just… gone.”
“What happened?” The question escapes on a breath before I realize I’ve asked, and when they both look my way, my face heats with color. “Oh, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“You can’t tell him I told you; he’d get mad.” Kinley’s hazel eyes are almost pleading as she looks at me.
“He doesn’t like me, I don’t think there’s any chance of him and I even making small talk.” I recall the look he gave me when he first saw me at the pub.
Kinley rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t like anyone. Believe it or not, Tucker used to be fun-loving and laughed all the time.”
Trying to imagine the hard grimace on his face both times I’ve seen him turn to a smile is impossible. He’s got to be the grumpiest person I’ve ever encountered. When my eyebrows move up my forehead in surprise, Kinley laughs.
“It’s true. He was in the Air Force for almost fifteen years, worked his way up to combat controller…”
Allison interrupts her. “That’s a big deal in military speak. He was a pilot.”
Kinley looks at her friend and then back at me, “He was one of the special forces guys they drop in when things got bad, his team was kind of like a five-man army.” She nods and shrugs her shoulders.
“Anyway, he was on one of his ‘missions,’ as they call it,” she makes finger quotes when she says it.
“He can’t give us details, but there was a bomb, and his leg was barely hanging on. They almost amputated it.”
My eyes go wide. No wonder he’s such a grump, his whole life was pulled out from under him.
When he left last week, he left almost two hundred dollars on the table for a twenty-five-dollar tab.
I slid the money in my pocket, half expecting him to come back for it when he realized he’d left too much, but he never came back.
Did he leave a big tip as an apology for being an ass?
“One of his teammates died on a stretcher next to him when they were flying them out to get medical attention.” Allison adds.
“It really screwed with his head.” Kinley says as she pushes her little plate away.
As I start to feel sorry for him, I look through the cloak of misery that he’s donned and try to see the man he used to be. He’s extremely good-looking with the scowl, and I try to imagine how he would look with a smile. I bet he’s drop-dead gorgeous.
Shit.
I can’t let myself think that way. There’s no room for attraction, or feelings, or anything like that. As soon as my car is fixed, I’m leaving. No attachments.
Taking a deep breath, I push aside my wandering thoughts. “So, he has physical therapy for his leg every week?”
Rolling her eyes again, Kinley lets out a huff.
“Yes, and he hates it. He’s in so much pain by the time we get out that he’s almost a bear.
Not wanting to take it out on everyone at home, he goes to the pub on those nights to get away.
He says having a few beers helps dull the pain in his leg and his head. ”
So, I get to deal with him again tonight. Yay me.