by Emma Woods
“Listen, Nate and I were wondering if Gus could come over today.” She paused, waiting for me to respond.
I, however, was frozen. Why would they ask Gus over? My brain finally defrosted enough to say, “I’m sure he would enjoy it. What are you planning?”
“Well, Gus and I got talking about Indiana Jones at work the other day. He said he’d seen the first two movies but not the third one. Nate and I don’t have anything going on and we’re in the mood for a movie, so we thought of Gus.”
“Let me ask him. Hold on.” I pressed the phone’s mouthpiece to my chest and ran the details by my brother. From the grin on his face, I knew he wasn’t going to refuse.
I told Emily he’d love to come, and we worked out the details. Nate would walk over from their cottage and collect Gus. They’d make homemade pizza for lunch and they’d walk him back after the movie finished.
Which was how I found myself with an afternoon to myself. Not an hour later, I leaned against the door frame and watched Nate and Gus cross the driveway and disappear around the bend that led to the little cottage Nate and Emily occupied. Just as I was about to head inside, a familiar SUV drove into sight. What was Matt doing here?
My heart sped up and I found myself holding my breath, hoping he was stopping at Gate House instead of passing by and going up to Bumblebee House. And then he turned and parked in our gravel driveway and was climbing out of his car, white teeth flashing at me through his dark beard.
“Hello,” I said, trying to sound calm. “I see you’ve recovered from last night.”
“Just barely.” He grinned and then reached for the toolbox in the back of his truck. “I thought today would be a good time for me to re-caulk some of the windows here.”
“Sure.” I stepped back and he entered the house, filling it in so many ways. “Gus is over at Emily’s for the afternoon, and I can easily stay out of your way.”
He opened his mouth to reply when my phone rang. I checked and saw it was my mother.
“Sorry, it’s my mom. I have to take this.” I was already hitting the answer button as he nodded his understanding.
I stepped into the living room. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”
“I’m not good at all.” Mom launched into a long list of gripes, ending with an overly detailed explanation of how Aunt Dottie was being completely unreasonable about Thanksgiving. “I don’t think I want to be in the same house with her, let alone the same table,” Mom concluded.
Pinching the bridge of my nose tiredly, I said, “I’m sorry she’s upset you so much. Is there anything I can do?”
There was a heavy pause on the other end of the phone. “Well, since you asked. Where did you book our room?”
“At a nice bed and breakfast. They have two adjoining bedrooms with a private bathroom. And the rest of the rooms are booked by other people, not our family.” I’d told her all this before, as well as emailed the details to Dad.
“Do you know where Dottie and Rick are staying?”
“I don’t know, other than that they aren’t at the same B and B as you and Dad.”
Mom sighed. “Maybe you could ask your Aunt Rosa if she knows where they’re staying.”
I was quickly growing irritated. “I’m not sure why it matters where Aunt Dottie and Uncle Rick stay. Rosa and I have a lot of work to do to get ready for Thursday. We don’t have time to worry about who’s staying where.”
“You don’t have to get snippy with me,” Mom said in a wounded voice. “You asked if you could help, and then when I told you what you could do, you get mad at me.”
I pursed my lips together, trying to keep hold of my temper. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand how it will help to know where Aunt Dottie is staying.”
“Well, I don’t want you to put yourself out, not when you’re so busy.” I noted the sarcasm but chose to ignore it. Mom went on, “Remember that I’m not eating onions these days.”
“I’m sure you can pick out any onions in the food,” I told her, praying for patience.
“No, there can’t be onions in anything. It makes me sick, I’m sure of it.”
I happened to know that the stuffing Rosa was planning was full of onions. I also knew that it was unlikely that Mom really couldn’t eat onions. The question was whether or not she’d make a big fuss on Thanksgiving and play the martyr who couldn’t eat anything at the table.
“I’ll make sure there’s plenty of food that doesn’t have onions,” I promised.
“You don’t have to make a big deal about it, though. I don’t want everyone thinking I’m some demanding shrew who has to have her way all the time. Is Gus there?”
“No, he’s out with friends.”
I could practically feel my mother’s reaction over the phone line as she shrieked, “What?! You’ve let Gus go out with friends?!”
It took ten minutes to calm Mom down enough for me to hang up. By the time I was off the phone, I was shaking with suppressed anger and annoyance. I’d used all the diplomacy I possessed, and she’d all but accused me of mistreating my brother.
It was exactly the wrong time for Matt to come into the room.
“Hey, did you realize the toilet was leaking?” he asked, completely unaware of what had transpired.
I looked at him, feeling as though he’d added the final accusation to my too-full load, and burst into tears. I sank onto the couch and buried my head in my hands. Instantly, Matt was sitting beside me, a strong arm around my back. He rubbed my other arm gently and waited until I could talk again.
“I’m so sorry,” I hiccupped. “I’m not normally hysterical.”
“Don’t even worry about it. I’m here if you want to talk, and if you don’t, I can disappear.”
I looked up at him through the last of my tears, marveling at him. The men I knew were completely unhelpful when it came to crying women. Matt, though, was sensitive and supportive without pushing in. Rosemarie was lucky to have such a sensitive brother.
Reaching for a box of tissues, I realized I did want to talk to him. I’d held him at arms’ length as long as I could. It was time to cave and let Matt be the friend he so clearly wanted to be.
“My mom was furious that I let Gus go off with friends without me,” I explained as I began to clean up my face.
Matt leaned back on the other end of the couch, brow furrowed. “Why would that upset her? He’s just down the driveway.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I sighed heavily. “The truth is, as far as my mom is concerned, I can’t do anything right. She loves drama and being the victim. My caring for Gus gives her lots of ammunition.”
“Why does Gus live with you? I don’t think I ever heard the story.”
I pressed my lips together and searched for where to begin. “We have two older brothers. Charlie is nine years older than me and Quinn is five years older. Charlie was almost in high school when Gus was born. Our family sort of fell apart when we found out that Gus had Down Syndrome. Charlie and Quinn got really involved in school and were hardly ever home. Dad started working longer and longer hours. And Mom couldn’t handle the fact that she’d produced a ‘damaged’ child.
“That left me to look after Gus. I loved him from the first moment I saw him. When he was a toddler, he’d always stand on the couch with his nose pressed against the window, waiting for me to get off the school bus. I’d stand up to anyone who made fun of him. I think I was really angry at my family for not loving him, and I took it out on the rest of the world.
“By the time I was in junior high, Mom developed horrible migraines and would stay in her room for days. At least, she called them migraines. I don’t know if they really are that bad. After Gus was born, she stopped going to the doctor. Over the years, she stopped going out at all if she could help it. She expected me to help around the house, cooking and cleaning, and taking care of Gus.”
“That’s a big load for a kid to carry,” Matt said, his eyes soft.
I shrugged. “I was the only one who was th
ere for Gus. I had to carry it. When I graduated from high school, Dad took me aside and told me that the family really needed my help. I couldn’t go away to college like I’d hoped. He asked me to go to the local community college instead, and then find a job to support myself and Gus. Dad said that Mom might get better if she didn’t have anyone in the house all day.”
“Your father asked you to give up college to take care of your brother?” Matt asked incredulously.
“He did. I couldn’t have left Gus behind, anyway. It was pretty much inevitable that I’d take care of him for life.”
Matt leaned forward and took my hand. “That’s the most selfless thing I’ve ever heard. You’re amazing, Corinne.”
I blushed, loving the feel of his big hand on mine.
“Go out on a date with me?” he asked quietly.
“Okay,” I whispered.
His gray eyes lit up and he squeezed my fingers gently. My heart pounded nervously. Had I just made a huge mistake?
13
Matt didn’t stay long after that. He had to report to work but headed off with a definite spring in his step. I watched him go, chewing my lower lip.
We’d made plans to go to supper on Monday night. Gus would go to supper at Bumblebee House and could stay there with Rosa or the others until I got back. It was going to be a low-key date, just dinner and maybe a walk down Main Street. Still, I fretted about it all weekend.
I kept swinging between fear that I’d made a terrible mistake and wonder that a fabulous guy was interested in me romantically. I liked Matt a lot. I enjoyed being in his company, and I really loved the way he was pursuing me. But I couldn’t stop worrying about the moment when he’d realize I wasn’t worth dating and break things off. My logical self tried to argue that he might not feel that way. My emotional self was much more convincing, though, and I found myself tossing and turning at night.
I dragged into work Monday morning, wishing I drank coffee so I could have a boost of caffeine. There was no way I was going to tell anyone at the ranch that I was about to go out with Matt Donovan. He was brother, brother-in-law, and partial boss to everyone there.
The day dragged. I struggled to pay attention and kept having to ask people to repeat things. At lunch, I sat alone and almost convinced myself to call and cancel. But at the last minute, I reminded myself that it was Matt, and he’d never been anything but kind and understanding.
By the time I got home and was dressing for my date, I’d taken to employing deep breathing exercises whenever I started to feel anxious. And so, I was able to get dressed in my favorite raspberry-colored sweater tunic, skinny jeans, and cute ankle booties without an attack of nerves. I even was so bold as to put my hair up in a ponytail rather than leave it down in its usual dark waves. I think I was trying to trick my subconscious into believing that this was no more than dinner out with a friend.
“You look nice, Corinne,” Gus told me, grinning widely.
My brother had been over the moon when I told him I was going out with Matt. Unfortunately, I could practically see the wheels turning in Gus’s head. He undoubtedly thought that this meant the two of us would get married and he’d get to live with his favorite new friend.
“Are you sure you’re okay staying with Rosa this evening?” I asked, feeling jittery. “We won’t be long, I promise.”
Gus groaned. “Don’t worry about me so much. I’ll be fine. Go and have fun.”
“Okay, okay.” I sighed inwardly. Gus was starting to exhibit all the telltale signs of a teenager exerting his newfound independence. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with him.
Headlights swung into our driveway, and Gus yelled, “He’s here!” even though I was sitting next to him on the couch. We already had our shoes on, so we pulled on coats and I grabbed my purse before we headed outside. Even so, we were out of the house in under sixty seconds.
Matt was just getting out of his SUV, a bouquet of mixed flowers in hand. “I’m supposed to come to the door to pick you up like a gentleman,” he teased.
“Sorry about that,” I said, blushing. “Let me put those flowers in the house. I’ll find a vase later.” And I fumbled for my keys.
By the time I’d deposited the bundle on the table inside the front hall, locked the door again, and reached the car, Gus was already sitting in the back, chattering away to Matt, who winked at me. I buckled my seatbelt and told myself that if I threw up in here, I’d never get over the humiliation.
Luckily, Gus kept talking all the way to Bumblebee House where he bid us good-bye and left us for the warmth and friendliness inside. For a moment, I wished that I was going with him.
“Thank you for the flowers,” I remembered to say. “They’re lovely. It was very thoughtful of you.”
Matt reached a hand over and took my gloved one in his. “Relax. This is just like any other date.”
“I haven’t gone on many other dates,” I blurted without pausing to consider how pathetic that made me sound.
His eyebrows lifted. “Really? I find that hard to believe. I’m sure a lot of guys would like to ask you out.”
I’m not sure why I said it, but I replied, “No. I’m not the sort of girl guys ask out very often.”
He put the car in gear and we began to roll down the driveway. “Sorry, Corinne, I find that really hard to believe.”
It was dark inside the car and I didn’t have to look him in the eyes, so I think I was much braver than I would have been otherwise. Added to that, I’d been convincing myself that he wouldn’t be interested in me for long, and I took a deep breath and said, “Guys like skinny girls. Even you know that, Matt. It doesn’t matter how pretty your face is if you’re fat.”
Silence stretched between us. I felt deflated. Why had I ruined our night by being blunt? It wasn’t his fault I would never be a size six. And I had enough time to see how disappointed I was going to be when things didn’t work out. A tiny part of me had really begun to hope that something special could grow between us.
“Who told you you’re fat?” Matt finally asked.
I let out a derisive laugh. “My older brothers always teased me for being overweight. My parents would tell me not to eat so much. And there were plenty of kids all through school who were quick to point out that I was heavy. Plus, I own a mirror.” My voice had grown quite bitter by the end and I looked out the window. This date was sure to set a record for fastest crash-and-burn of all times.
We’d reached the diner and Matt pulled into an open space. He turned the car off, but then put his big arm across the back of the seat and looked at me thoughtfully.
“This isn’t the way I’d planned on starting our first date. I’d planned on finding some really romantic way to tell you that I think you’re gorgeous.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, as though it was unquestionable. I whipped my head around and stared at him. He thought what?!
“Come on, that’s a bit much,” I stammered.
He smiled a little sadly and let one of his long fingers run down my cheek lightly. “The first time I saw you, I knew that I was never going to be the same. You’re so kind and strong and smart, Corinne. You give of yourself without a second thought. It wouldn’t matter what you looked like, I would find you so attractive that I couldn’t walk away. It’s just a bonus that you are so beautiful, too.”
My heart melted. I had to blink back the tears that sprang to my eyes at his words. I had no idea what to think or feel, let alone what to say to all that.
But, true to form, Matt didn’t need me to get it together. Instead, he said, “Are you hungry?” At my nod, he grinned and climbed out of the car. I took a moment longer to swipe carefully at my eyes and sniffle back my watery amazement. Then my door was swinging open, and Matt’s hand appeared to help me down.
We found seats in a booth far from the door and took time to look over the menu. I had to remind myself to focus on the words rather than replay the past few minutes over and over in my mind.
&nbs
p; The waitress took our orders, and I firmly told myself to have a normal conversation. There was a lot I didn’t know about my date, and here was a good time to ask a few questions.
Once we were sipping from our glasses, I began, “How is it that you decided to open a coffee shop?”
It turned out to be just the right question to get the evening back on solid ground. Matt had a lot to say about not wanting to be a rancher and his love of creating things. He’d apprenticed with a company in Denver before coming back and starting on his own.
“I’m still interested in redecorating the shop,” he said as our food arrived. “Do you have any suggestions for me?”
We paused to bless the food and then I took a tentative bite, considering my answer carefully.
“It looks nice as it is. The blue walls with the wood floors is very attractive. And all the black-and-white photos give it a modern touch. Why do you want to make a change?”
He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and replied, “The shop looks nice as it is, but it’s not very inviting. I think something needs to be done so that people feel welcome to sit and stay.”
“I think that has less to do with the color scheme and more to do with the way the furniture is arranged.”
“What do you mean?”
I put my fork down and leaned forward, warming to my topic. “A lot of coffee shops have varied seating arrangements. There might be a few tables in one area, armchairs in another, and a long bar with stools along another wall. I was at a shop once where every table had an electrical outlet so that people could sit and work for longer periods of time. You could also put in a bookshelf with a variety of used books, or even some board games.”
We spent the next half-hour brainstorming and dreaming about what the coffee shop could become. Matt was very passionate about it, which was fun for me. It was easy to see his vision. I was flattered that he wanted my input at all.
“It’s starting to snow. Care for a walk?” he asked as we got to our feet at the end of the meal.
