“Oh, no,” she said. The generous serving of linguini was more than she would be able—or dare—to eat. Would it be tacky to ask for a doggie bag in a place like this? Aiden would love it, even reheated in the microwave. He wouldn’t care about the creamy wine sauce or distinguish lobster from tuna, but noodles were noodles.
“Oh, yes,” Frank said. “They have a triple chocolate tiramisu you can’t resist.”
“Triple—Mr. McAllister, you’re trying to seduce me… Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered, smiling, “but I’m in no hurry. I have a feeling you’re worth waiting for.” He said it lightly, with laughter, a joking response to her The Graduate reference, but also very possibly serious.
She didn’t know how to respond or remember where they had left the film discussion and could only continue to enjoy the linguini with appropriate murmurs of approval. She was rescued by the chime of her cell phone. “Excuse me, I need to take this,” she said apologetically. Frank didn’t look annoyed, but she noticed a chilly look from another diner.
It was Alix, of course. “Major babysitting disaster!” she announced, but with laughter in her voice. “How’s it going, kiddo?”
“Fine,” Teresa said comfortably. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah?” Alix said eagerly. “Is he behaving himself?”
“Sort of,” she said. “The food is fantastic. Bye!” She hung up. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it’s rude, but—”
“You’re a mother,” he said, nodding. “I left mine on too, because I’m always on call. We both have jobs that don’t respect the clock.”
“It was Alix,” she confessed. “She called with an invented emergency in case I needed to make a quick exit.”
“Women really do that?” he asked. “Not just in the movies?”
“Yes—men don’t?”
“Not that I know of. Have you ever taken advantage of it? Left the guy in the lurch, I mean?”
“Oh, it sounds terrible when you say it like that. No—or once, in high school. The boy had a few beers with his buddies before our date, and he was loud and obnoxious and all hands. My friend, who was at the same party, called me from the bathroom, and I told him my dog had been hit by a car.”
“At least you were original. You told me the trick—does that mean you trust me?”
“Apparently. Are you trustworthy?”
“No,” he said, laughing. “Not where you’re concerned.”
“Do you say things like that to all your dates, or was that your George Clooney impression?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“How you feel about George Clooney.”
“Everybody loves George Clooney.”
“Okay, here’s one—favorite Clooney role?”
“Good Night and Good Luck.”
“Really? I knew you were smart, Teresa. What about the one he won the Oscar for?”
“Syriana? I guess I didn’t get it.”
“Well, you wouldn’t want to be too smart,” he said. “It was depressing anyway. Here’s one I bet you didn’t see: Men Who Stare at Goats.”
“Yes, I did. Bizarre!”
“And it was a true story. Did you see Burn After Reading?”
By the time they were done with the movies, they were ready for dessert, and she realized she still didn’t know anything about him beyond his film preferences. “Tell me about your job,” she urged. “Did you work today?”
“Yes. It wasn’t very interesting, I’m afraid. The highlight of the day was multiple calls about shots being fired inside a house, but it was a bust—nobody there, no guns, no signs of violence.”
“It could still have been a crime scene.”
“Possibly, but it’s somebody else’s headache.”
“Would you want to be a detective?”
“I started out wanting to go that route, but I guess I’m a little bit of an adrenaline junkie. I like my job.”
“Does it pay well?” Now she was the one asking financial questions.
“I make eighty-eight thou,” he said casually.
Teresa could barely suppress a gasp. “It’s three times what I make,” she told him. It was more than she and Brett had earned together.
“Then you’re underpaid, or I’m overpaid. Probably both.”
The waitress returned and asked what else she could bring them. “Could we have two boxes?” Frank asked. He had eaten about half of his linguini, and Teresa only a third of hers.
“Certainly, sir. Would you like to see a dessert menu?”
“That won’t be necessary. We’ll have the tiramisu and coffee.”
“Decaf for me,” Teresa said. She should have said no to the dessert too, but reminded herself this was not going to happen again.
“Wait ’til you taste this,” he said when Rachel was gone. “Have you ever had Zuppa Inglese?”
“I’ve never even heard of it,” she confessed. “I’m afraid I’m more of a cheeseburger-and-fries girl. This was wonderful, but I wouldn’t want to do it every week. I hope you were just trying to impress me…”
“Did I?”
“Yes, but I’m also a little intimidated. I don’t think I can keep up with you. Maybe you should look for somebody more compatible.”
He shook his head. “We like the same kind of movies, though, right?”
“It seems like it.”
“Okay, next week we’ll see a movie and save places like this for special occasions. This was one, for me, anyway.”
“Oh, Frank, it was very special. Thank you. I’m a little embarrassed because you spent so much money on me, and I probably sound ungrateful.”
“Money doesn’t mean anything to me,” he said dismissively.
“Only because you have enough. It’s very important to people like me.”
“I hope that will change,” he said. “Anyway, it was the first time you used my first name, so that’s a plus.”
Rachel returned with a cart and poured the coffee. The tiramisu came in generous portions, sprinkled with cocoa powder, drizzled with chocolate sauce, and with a chocolate wafer stuck in the top of each piece. “Oh, my God,” Teresa said. “You are trying to seduce me.”
Rachel laughed. “It’s worth it,” she said and whisked the cart away again.
Teresa took a cautious bite, and it melted in her mouth. “This is fantastic,” she said. “What is Zuppa…?”
“Zuppa Inglese. It’s similar, but dipped in this great red liqueur instead of coffee. It may have been the original version.”
“It couldn’t be better than this.” She promised herself she wouldn’t eat it all and tried to take very small bites.
Frank sampled his, but it didn’t have his full attention. “So you’re telling me you’re trying to raise your boy on less than thirty—”
“It’s easier in Cougar than it would be somewhere else.”
“Still. Did Devlin help?”
“Yes…I didn’t tell you his last name, did I?”
He shrugged. “I asked around.”
“Don’t,” she said sharply. “It’s over.”
“Not if he’s still coming around.”
“He isn’t. Today was the last time. I told him how I felt.”
“Okay. Would you let me help you?”
“No, of course not!” He was spoiling the tiramisu for her.
“I don’t mean to cross a line here,” he said soothingly. “I only want to help.”
“Thank you. I’ll manage.”
“I understand you don’t want to be obligated, but it would be so easy for me—”
She shook her head. “Money is never easy. Did you think I’d be easy because—?”
“No, Teresa,” he said firmly. “I won’t pretend I didn’t think about taking you to bed the first time I saw you, but right now I want to get to know you. What I really need is somebody to go to the movies with.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just
hard to trust anybody right now. I knew Brett for years, and I never would have believed he was the kind to…do what he did.”
“Do you think I am?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said and laughed in spite of herself, a shaky laugh, but genuine, and he smiled in response.
“I figure you can react one of two ways after a betrayal,” he said. “Decide not to trust anybody, or figure you can trust a stranger as easily as the guy next door.”
Distracted, she said, “This is so good!”
****
It was dark and a bit chilly when they left the restaurant, and Frank suggested Teresa wait inside while he got the car. “I’ll go with you,” she said. “I need to walk off all those calories.” He took her hand very casually—the first time he had touched her since their brief handshake on meeting. “If I ate like this all the time, I’d get fat,” she said.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to put a little meat on your bones,” he said.
“You sound like my mother,” she said. “I’m the ideal weight for my height.”
“I just meant you don’t have to try to be some perfect stereotype fashion model or something. I appreciate your getting all dolled up for me tonight, but you don’t have to.”
“It was fun for a change,” she said.
“Good.” He squeezed her hand. The car was close by, and he opened her door for her.
She hadn’t been in the city at night for a long time, and the traffic and lights were strangely bright and chaotic. She was glad when they turned off the main highway and onto the familiar roads of Cougar. Even in the dark she knew every inch of it.
As he pulled up in front of her house, Frank asked, “Would you like me to drive the babysitter home?”
“Actually, Aiden is at Alix’s tonight. The grill is closed on Mondays.” She didn’t need to tell him everything, but somehow the truth flowed naturally in his presence.
“So could I come in for a few minutes?” he asked. “Just to see the house?”
She shook her head. “Not tonight. I do have to make it an early night. I promised to pick Aiden and Sasha up in the morning and make pancakes for them before school.”
He got out and came around to open her door. “Your friend Alix is a single mom too?” he asked.
“Her husband was killed in Afghanistan.”
“Oh, that’s rough,” he said sympathetically. He followed her up the stairs to her door. She thought he would ask again to come in, but he said nothing while she dug out her key.
“Thank you, Frank. I had a very good time.”
“Me too,” he said. He handed her both boxes of leftovers and bent his head to kiss her. It was not a polite first-date kiss. She liked it, but afterward she took a step back, braced for something—she didn’t know what. Her heart was beating a little too fast.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I knew I was going to have trouble with you.”
“Trouble?”
“Controlling myself.” He stepped back too, smiling. “Good night, Teresa. I’ll call you about a movie.”
“Good night, Frank.”
Chapter 4
When Teresa drove up in front of Alix’s white clapboard ranch house, her son came running out the front door. “Mama!” He yanked on the door handle before she could unlock it, and when she did he was immediately half on top of her, grinning into her face and signing furiously. It was too much for her to sort out, but she gathered he had had a good time.
“Slow down,” she cautioned and gave him a resounding kiss.
Only one thing was bothering him. “Sasha say devil live in Big Devil River.”
“She’s teasing you, sweetie. Devils are only in stories.”
“Except the human ones,” Alix called from the porch. To Aiden she signed, “Sasha big liar!” with exaggerated movements and a laughing expression.
Teresa gave the boy back the beads she had worn in her hair. “Thank you. I felt so pretty last night!” She got out of the car, and he hung onto her hand, pulling her toward the house.
“Well?” Alix asked. “How was your big date?”
“It was fine.”
“Fine? Cover your ears, Aiden,” she joked. “Give me details, girl.”
“The food was good. The restaurant was expensive, but not scary. He was easy to talk to. He didn’t talk about himself much. I can’t figure him out.”
“How so?”
“Is he for real? What does he see in me?”
“Well, you’re not entirely repulsive most of the time, you know.”
“If it’s not real, what does he want?”
“Did he ask you for money?”
“Get real. I don’t have any, and he has plenty.”
“Sex?” Alix suggested.
“Lacey Norman would be easier.”
“Some men prefer your type—you know, marginally intelligent.”
“Yeah, right. My parents taught me if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.”
“Uh-huh. And did they teach you every rule has exceptions?”
“Yeah, maybe. He seems too smooth to be real, and then he’ll say something that seems genuine.”
“Like you would know, after Brett. So what are you going to do about it?”
Teresa shrugged. “Go to the movies with him, I guess. See how it goes.”
“Oh, good. Sounds like high school.” Alix opened the screen door and yelled, “Sasha! Get your cute little ass out here!”
Sasha appeared almost at once, carrying Aiden’s backpack. She signed to him, “Mama say A-S-S,” and they both giggled.
“Good work,” Teresa said to Alix.
She shrugged. “At least our kids can spell.”
****
Frank called at ten-thirty. “I’m sorry; I got you at work again, didn’t I?”
Teresa held the phone against her shoulder while she cleaned the teeth of a very patient collie. “Yes,” she said. “Good boy! Sorry, that wasn’t meant for you. I’m almost finished with…” She dropped the phone, scrambled to retrieve it, and was too flustered to think of anything to say except, “Sorry,” again. She scratched the collie’s ears.
“Obviously you’re busy. I’m on a break, but I wanted to say thank you for last night, and when can I see you again? When is good to take in a movie?”
She took a deep breath. “To be perfectly honest, I haven’t seen a movie in a theater in years. Aiden can’t read the captions fast enough yet, and he only likes animation anyway.”
“You’re definitely overdue, then. Would Saturday night work? Maybe grab a bite to eat after? No fancy restaurants, I promise.”
“I’ll see if I can get my regular sitter. Can I call you back?”
“Sure,” he said warmly. “Any time.” After she hung up she had to fan herself. Was it dropping the phone or something in his voice?
When Veronica came in, she said, “What’s the matter? You look a little pink.” She put her hand on Teresa’s forehead. “No fever.”
“I’m fine,” Teresa assured her, laughing. “I think I have a crush on a hot guy.”
“Good for you. I hope this one doesn’t break your heart.”
****
She was able to line up Chelsea Ryan, the one teenage girl she was willing to trust with Aiden, for Saturday night, and Frank intended to pick her up at six o’clock, but a little after five he called to cancel. “I have to work,” he said. “I’ll call you later,” and he hung up.
It seemed rude, abrupt, and she didn’t know him well enough to guess if it was uncharacteristic. She reminded herself of what he did for a living, but she was still annoyed. Canceling the babysitter at the last minute was likely to make it harder to get her the next time, but mostly she was childishly disappointed at the last-minute cancellation of an outing she was looking forward to.
Only when Aiden was in bed and she turned on the ten o’clock news did she understand—a SWAT standoff was underway in Powell City, and two people had been shot. She couldn’t recognize Fra
nk in the brief images of the officers at the scene, but they were all alike in their helmets and body armor, carrying heavy weapons and looking much like combat soldiers.
She didn’t like the feeling he might be in danger. Did she want to date somebody for whom this kind of scenario was routine? The newscaster hadn’t said whether the two gunshot victims were officers or civilians. She resisted the temptation to stay up in hope of updates, but she didn’t sleep well.
Frank called at eight a.m. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “I don’t know if you heard—”
“Yes. I saw the news. It’s over?”
“Yes, the perp killed himself. I didn’t want to wake you up or I would have called when it ended. You weren’t still asleep, were you?”
“No, no, we’re having breakfast.”
“Could I maybe come by later? I need a couple more hours sleep, but I’d like to see you, and I want to meet your boy.”
“It’s too early for that,” she said. “He still asks for Brett. It’s too soon to introduce somebody else. And we have church and Sunday school, and I have a lot—”
“Okay, I get the message. Tonight, though?” She felt a little crowded by his persistence, but she had been looking forward to an adult movie outing. Her hesitation wasn’t lost on him. “Am I pushing too hard?” he asked.
“No, it’s all right. I’ll see if I can get the sitter again.”
****
Chelsea was nice about it—she had gone out with friends the night before, so she still had homework to do, and she needed the money. Aiden didn’t want Teresa to go out again, but he would be fine with Chelsea. He came to lean against her, shortly before Frank was due, and signed, “I will miss you, Mama.” He repeated, “Miss you,” in a mournful voice.
“I’ll miss you too, sweetie. Good speech. Very expressive.” She hugged him close to her side.
“Can I go to movie?”
“You wouldn’t like it. It’s a boring grownup movie. Talk, talk, talk. And Chelsea will be sad if you don’t stay and play with her.”
He glanced at Chelsea, who was setting up the Quirkle game on the kitchen table. “ ’kay,” he said and went to join her.
The Rebound Effect Page 3
