What I Love About You (Truly, Idaho)

by Rachel Gibson

  Natalie and Charlotte stood in the crowd as three police cars and McGruff the Crime Dog made their way down Main. The two of them were bundled up for the chilly weather and had feet warmers in the soles of their snow boots. Last year, Natalie had participated in the parade by decorating her Subaru with funny photos and streamers while Charlotte waved out the window. It had been a lot of work and she just wanted to relax and enjoy the festival this year.

  Michael and his parents were somewhere in the crowd and she was supposed to call to meet up with them. She’d accidentally left her phone charging in her car and had to scan the crowd looking for them, but it wasn’t Michael’s dark hair that Natalie searched for as she surreptitiously glanced about the packed street. If Blake was back in town, it was best if she saw him first. Forewarned was forearmed; at least that’s what she told herself. She thought she spotted the back of his head on the corner of Main, and again across from Mort’s, and once more by Bernard’s Deli, but each time he turned, it wasn’t him. Each time, for one brief moment, her heart slammed against her ribs. And each time she felt stupid that just the sight of blond hair in a crowd could make her heart react. A goofy, small-town parade probably wasn’t the sort of thing to attract a man like him anyway.

  After the parade, she and Charlotte bought hot cocoa and wandered to Larkspur Park to see the town’s ice sculptures. They passed Paul’s Market’s sculpture of a big fish in a Santa hat. Frankie stood by its glassy tail, all bundled up and giving out Christmas ham coupons. The fire department had sculpted a full-size replica of a fire truck, and the members of Buy Idaho had made an attempt at an icy sleigh filled with potatoes. But the sleigh was too small and the potatoes too big, and if not for the sign, Natalie wouldn’t have known the big lumps were Idaho’s most famous veggie.

  The park was packed with locals and tourists, and she hadn’t been able to spot Michael or the Coopers. Nor had she spotted a certain blond head in the crowd, and she started to think that Michael had been wrong about Blake being back in town.

  The most spectacular sculpture every year belonged to Allegrezza Construction. This year they had made a gingerbread house big enough to walk through, complete with a big table and eight chairs. Nick Allegrezza and his wife, Delaney, stood at the entrance, chatting with friends. Nick stood behind his wife, his arms looped around her waist as she leaned back into his chest. He whispered something in her ear, and she dipped her head and smiled as if they shared a private, intimate secret. A tiny stab of envy settled next to Natalie’s heart. She wanted that. She wanted a man to whisper something in her ear that only the two of them shared. Something that came from years of knowing and loving one person. She’d been a neighbor of the Allegrezzas for years. She’d always noticed the way they looked at and touched each other, but she’d never felt one way or another about it.

  She blamed Blake. Until he’d smashed into her life like a wrecking ball, she hadn’t thought about feeling the comfort of a man’s arms around her. Until Blake, she’d forgotten.

  Charlotte laughed, and Natalie glanced at her daughter, then at the six Allegrezza children dressed as elves and giving out candy canes. The five dark-haired girls smiled and giggled while their lone brother scowled from beneath his elf hat. She guessed him to be about three, and her laughter joined Charlotte’s as he stuck his tongue out at the Olson triplets. She thought she should say hello to Shanna and Nick and Delaney, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

  “Natalie.” Her back stiffened. She knew that voice. Knew the sound when he whispered her name. She turned and came face to thick throat with the man who’d crushed her heart and made her look at happy couples with envy.

  “Blake!” Charlotte said, and wrapped her arms around his waist, giving Natalie a few precious seconds to paste a fake smile on her lips. “I missed you, Blake.”

  His eyes looked into her, open and unguarded, so unlike the last time she’d seen him, and for one split second she thought that might mean something, but this was Blake. The man who’d pursued her until they’d slept together. Then he’d dumped her flat.

  His gaze lingered a second longer before he got down on one knee and Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck. “I missed you, too.”

  Liar. He’d planned on leaving town for good and without even saying good-bye. She’d planned to wait until Charlotte noticed that he was no longer around before she’d tell her he was moving, but he’d only been gone a week. Natalie looked down at his familiar blond hair and wide shoulders in his familiar brown coat. She knew how his hair felt between her fingers, and she curled her hands inside her mittens. She turned her face away before she did something she’d regret. Like fall on top of him like a hungry monkey or kick him in the leg like she was on the playground.

  “Guess what, Blake?”

  “What?”

  “Mom showed me twins like you and your brother on the Internet. I don’t think you’re a robot now.”

  His deep laughter bubbled up from him and felt like it settled in her stomach.

  “Guess what else?”

  “Your mom found you a unicorn.”

  “No! I got a Christmas tree.”

  “Is it big?”

  “Yeah. Weally big. You can come see it.”

  Natalie glanced back down at the top of his head and Charlotte’s hat. “I’m positive Mr. Junger has better things to do than see our Christmas tree.”

  He looked up at her, and once more his familiar gray eyes locked with hers as he stood. “There is nothing Mr. Junger would rather do than see Charlotte’s Christmas tree.”

  Two steps. Two little steps and she could press her face into the side of his neck and breathe him in. Breathe the scent of his skin deep into her lungs and hold it there forever.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said.

  “There is nothing left to say.” And what good would come of breathing him deep in her lungs? He didn’t love her. He was never going to love her. He’d made that clear. So clear, she was still bleeding inside from the jagged edges of her broken heart.

  “You’re wrong, Sweet Cheeks. There’s a lot to say.”

  The backs of her eyes stung. Right there in Larkspur Park. Surrounded by people looking at the gingerbread house sculpture. She didn’t want to cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of the town. Not in front of him. He’d hurt her enough. She would not cry in public over him. “Let me put it a different way,” she said, letting her anger take over because it was better than falling apart in the middle of the Winter Festival. “You don’t have anything to say that I want to hear.”

  “I can appreciate that you are pissed off at me, but we’re going to talk. Right here, right now, or later at your house. You choose.”

  It was just so typical of him that he thought he could order her around. So typical that he made his orders sound like a choice. She covered Charlotte’s ear in preparation to call him a really bad name when Michael’s parents found her. She’d never been so glad to see Carla and Ron in her life. She introduced them to Blake because not introducing them would have been even more awkward.

  “Michael’s waiting for us at the snowmobile jumps,” Carla said. “Do you all want to go together?”

  She’d included Blake. As if they were a couple. “Charlotte and I will go with you,” she answered. “Blake was just leaving.”

  His gaze zeroed in on her as if he was sighting in one of his scopes. Letting her know the conversation wasn’t over. He was wrong, though. He couldn’t just come back into her life and boss her around. As she walked away, she hardened her heart by replaying in her mind the night she’d dressed up in her old uniform and had been prepared to give him a B and a J followed by a split jump on his lap.

  She told herself not to look back, but of course she did. He stood where she’d left him, only now he was surrounded by several women she didn’t recognize.

  Jerk.

  After the park,
she and Charlotte went home instead of the snowmobile jumping ramps. She was cold and Charlotte wanted to finish decorating the Christmas tree. As she’d pulled her car into her driveway, she might have glanced next door a little longer than necessary to see if Blake’s red truck sat in his drive. It wasn’t there and she felt silly.

  She and Charlotte shucked their coats and boots and got busy with the tree. Charlotte hung the low ornaments, Natalie hung the others. She dragged the ladder next to the tree and put the angel on top. With each sound she heard, each brush of a tree against her house, her pulse jumped. Blake said he was coming over tonight, whether she wanted him to come over or not.

  After dinner, she and Charlotte sat at the kitchen table to make snowflakes to hang on the mantel. It had been six hours since she’d looked into Blake’s gray eyes, and she was jumpy and feeling neurotic. A part of her hoped he didn’t show up, while another part longed to see his face. One part of her hoped he’d hurry and move away, while another part felt sick at the idea. She was just so confused by today. Confused and angry that he thought he could show up and she’d just naturally want to talk to him.

  She didn’t want to see him at all. The pain of loving him was still raw and real and hadn’t begun to heal yet. Seeing him today proved it was going to take time and distance.

  “Mom, do we eat meat?” Charlotte asked as she glued some silver glitter on a paper snowflake.

  “Yes.” Natalie cut out the intricate patterns and almost stuck the scissors through her hand when she heard a car door shut down the street.

  “Is meat from animals?”

  “Yes.” She carefully poked a hole in the top and threaded a piece of yarn through it. “The hot dogs you love are made from pork.”

  “What’s pork?”

  “Pork is a pig.” She stuck the end of yarn in her mouth to wet it.

  “We eat a pig?” Charlotte gasped.

  “Yes.” Natalie twisted the frayed end and poked it through the paper.

  “I don’t want to eat a pig. I don’t want to eat animals. Animals are nice.”

  Natalie put down the snowflake. If she’d been paying more attention, if she hadn’t been distracted by thoughts of Blake, she would have answered more delicately.

  Charlotte’s eyes got a little teary with real sorrow. “Animals are my friends, Mama.”

  Natalie didn’t want to change her child’s diet, but she didn’t want Charlotte to think she was eating her “friends,” either. “We only eat the mean animals.” Charlotte frowned and brushed at her eyes. Natalie saw the wheels turning in her child’s brain and she headed off further “tears.” “Mean and old animals. Really old.” Yes, it was perhaps a bit of lie, but if it made Charlotte feel better about eating her animal friends, then Natalie was okay with it. Especially tonight when her nerves were fraying faster than the yarn she held in her fingers.

  “Like Grandma?”

  “Older.”

  “Oh.” Charlotte nodded and squirted a glob of glue.

  The doorbell rang and Natalie dropped the end of the yarn. She slid out of her chair. “I’ll be right back. Keep the glue on the newspaper.” Her heart pounded in her ears as she moved to the front of the house. She looked through the peephole even though she expected Blake, and even though she expected him, her heart still slammed into her ribs. Blake’s cheeks were red from the cold and his eyes stared back at her. He smiled, all charming and handsome, and rage bubbled in her blood just as hot as the night he’d left. He rang the bell again and she yanked the door open.

  “Hi, Natalie. Do you have a minute?”

  “Not for you.” She slammed the door in his face and told herself not to look through the peephole. Of course she didn’t listen and rose to the balls of her feet and peeked out at him. Peeked at him still standing there staring at the closed door with that bewildered look on his face she recognized. She expected an angry frown to chase away the straight line of his lips. Instead he smiled and waved good-bye.

  The next night he rang her doorbell again and asked if he could have Sparky.

  Natalie folded her arms over her chest as if that could protect her heart. Now he remembered he had half a dog? He’d abandoned Sparky. And unlike Charlotte, she didn’t think it was in Sparky’s best interest to see his “father.” She was the one who fed the dog and took him for walks and had taken him to the vet to get neutered. Blake couldn’t just come and go in the dog’s life.

  “He isn’t your dog anymore.”

  “He’s half my dog.”

  “You can’t just come and go and see him when you please. You can’t confuse him that way.”

  “He’s a dog, Natalie.” He rocked back on the heels of his boots. “He doesn’t get confused.”

  He was right. Sparky was too dumb to be confused over anything. “He got his balls whacked. You should try it,” she said, and once again shut the door in his face. This time he did frown and must have forgotten to wave when he walked away.

  For the next few days, she half expected him to show up at work and cause a new round of gossip like the last time he’d entered her business. She was glad he’d given up trying to talk to her. It was for the best. He was an emotionally stunted jerk with commitment issues, and the only reason she knew he was still in town was that when she came home from work Wednesday, he and Charlotte and Tilda were building a snowman in her front yard. She pulled into the garage and shut the door behind her car. The nice thing to do would be to make cocoa and take it to the three of them. Instead she watched from behind her bedroom curtains as Blake lifted two big balls of snow and stacked them one on top of the other. Then he picked up some snow and lightly packing it in his gloved hands. He dumped it on Charlotte’s head and the fight was on.

  Natalie felt a tear slide down her cheek and she turned away. Watching him with Charlotte was like poking an open wound. She refused to watch, but she could hear Charlotte’s happy screams mixed with Blake’s deep laughter, filtering through the house.

  She didn’t see or hear anything from him Thursday, but Friday afternoon he sent in an order of photos for her to print.

  There were just two, and Natalie stared down at them sitting on the front counter of Glamour Snaps and Prints as Brandy placed other orders in photo envelopes. The first of Blake’s pictures was a ransom note that read:

  This is not a joke. Your dog Sparky is being held at 315 Red Fox Road. Bring one pork chop in an unmarked bag to the above address to secure his release.

  The kidnapper

  The second was of poor Sparky. His legs tied together with white rope and a red bandana tied around his eyes.

  “Ridiculous.” She frowned so she wouldn’t laugh. She glanced at the clock. It was three hours before closing and she debated with herself for ten minutes—okay, maybe five—before she handed the keys to Brandy. She was fairly sure she’d be back before closing, but just in case, she trusted her employee with the responsibility. She drove to Paul’s Market to buy the ransom, then headed toward home.

  Her nerves were shaky and jumpy and she folded her arms across her chest as she walked up the steps to his porch. The same porch where she’d once demanded that he take his dog back. The same porch where she’d fainted and he’d carried her inside.

  She rang the bell and waited. When he didn’t appear fast enough, she rang again.

  His big blur appeared a moment before the door swung open. He had a satisfied grin on his face when he said, “Hello, Ms. Cooper.” He was so big and so handsome and her heart ached so much, she wanted to punch him even as she wanted to throw herself against his chest.

  “Where’s Sparky?”

  “Did you bring the pork chop?”

  She handed over the grocery bag with a dog bone inside. “A pork chop will give him the runs.”

  Blake opened the door wider and she walked in. She followed him through the entry, her gaze taking in his bro
wn T-shirt and his wide shoulders and back. She didn’t want to look at his butt, but she did.

  She followed him into the living room, where Sparky lay in front of the fireplace on a cozy dog bed. The mutt was no long tied up or blindfolded and barely lifted his head to look at her before he went back to sleep.

  Traitor. “He looks scared.”

  “Can I take your coat?”

  “I won’t be staying that long.” Sparky was a traitor. Her heart was a traitor. The little flutter in her stomach was a traitor.

  Blake simply looked at her and held out his hand.

  “Fine.” She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and handed it to him. He took it and tossed it toward the sofa. It totally missed and fell on the floor. She moved to pick it up but his hands on her arm stopped her. “Blake, what do you think you’re doing?” She looked at his hands and then up into his face. “You can’t just—” she got out before he wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her against his chest, squeezing her until she couldn’t breathe. “Stop,” she gasped. “I can’t breathe.”

  “You can breathe later. Just let me hold you for a minute,” he said, and buried his face in her neck. “I missed you.”

  She’d missed him. So much it tore at her heart. So much it stung the backs of her eyes. “This isn’t fair.”

  “Fuck fair,” he said against the side of her throat. “You slammed your door in my face.”

  “You smiled about it.”

  “I knew you were watching.” He chuckled, and his breath tickled her skin just below her ear. “And I knew if you didn’t feel anything for me you wouldn’t be so damn mean.”

  “Mean!” She pushed him away, and his arms fell to his sides. “I’m not the mean one.”