Too Good to Be True - Kristan Higgins [73]
“What should I do?” he asked, and his voice broke just a little.
“Oh, Stuart.” I got out of my seat and went to him, patted his shoulder awkwardly. “Listen,” I murmured, “one thing she said to me was that…” you only have sex on scheduled days… I grimaced. “Um, maybe things were a little… routine? With you guys? So maybe a little surprise now and again—” on the kitchen table “—wouldn’t be a bad thing. Just sort of to show that you really… noticed her.”
“I do notice her,” he protested, wiping his eyes with one hand the way men do. “I love her, Grace. I’ve always loved her. I don’t understand why that’s not enough.”
Mercifully, my sister wasn’t home when I got there. As Stuart pointed out, she worked a very long day. Bemused, I threw together some dinner, then went upstairs to change for Dancin’ with the Oldies.
Callahan was busy these days at his own house, and I hadn’t seen him since he busted me for spying. I looked out the window at the new shingles on the roof, the curving and lovely little deck in the back. For the past two days, he’d been doing something inside, so I hadn’t been able to ogle him. Pity.
“Come on, Angus, buddy. Let’s go,” I said. I got my things and left the house, Angus trotting and leaping with delight at my side. He knew what Mommy’s swirly-twirly skirt meant. I got in the car, put it in Reverse and backed out onto the street as I had done a thousand times before.
Unlike those thousand other times, however, I heard a horrifying metallic crunch.
Callahan’s pickup truck was parked on the street, very close to my driveway. Well, okay, maybe not that close, but having gotten used to a clear runway ever since I’d lived here, I guess I took the turn kind of… yes. Okay. It was my fault.
I got out of the car to inspect the damage. Crap. I guessed that Callahan would be less than amused when I told him I’d just crushed his rear left taillight. Lucky for me, my own car was made of sturdy German stock, and there was only a little scrape where I’d hit the truck.
Glancing at my watch, I sighed, then dutifully trotted down the path to fess up.
I knocked briskly. No answer. “Callahan?” I called. “I just hit your truck!” Nothing. Fine, he was out. I didn’t have a pen, either, dang it, and if I went inside, I’d be late for dancing. I was cutting it close as it was.
He’d have to wait. I ran back down the path, shooed Angus out of the driver’s seat and headed off for Golden Meadows.
As I drove, Angus sitting on my lap, his adorable front paws resting on the steering wheel, I found myself wishing I was the single-mother type. I could just pop into a sperm bank and bingo. No man necessary. Life would be so much simpler.
I drove past the lake. The sun was setting, and a pair of Canada geese cruised in for a landing, their graceful black necks outstretched. The minute they touched water, each swam to the other, checking that the other was safe. Beautiful. That was the kind of tenderness I wanted. Super. I was now envying geese.
Pulling into the visitors’ lot at Golden Meadows, I bucked up a bit. This place was good for the spirit. “Hi, Shirley,” I said to the receptionist as I went in.
“Hello, Grace.” She smiled. “And who have we here? Why, it’s Angus! Hello, honey! Hello! Do you want a cookie?” I watched in amusement as Shirley convulsed in delight at the sight of my dog, who was extremely popular here. Angus, knowing he had a captive audience, raised his right paw and tilted his little head as Shirley swooned with joy.
“You sure you don’t mind watching him?” I asked as Angus delicately (we were in public, after all) ate the proffered cookie.
“Mind? Of course not! I love him! Yes, I do! I love you, Angus!”
Smiling, I walked down the hall. “Hey, everyone!” I called as I went into the activity room where we held Dancin’ with the Oldies each week.
“Hello, Grace!” they chorused. I hugged and kissed and patted, and my heart was eased a good bit.
Julian