His voice was soft and lethally lazy. “It’s late.”
Berry used to go fishing with her uncle Joe back in McMinneville. They’d sit all day in the warm shade of a willow tree, listening to the hypnotic drone of dragonflies and crickets, and then when she was just about asleep, Uncle Joe’s voice would buzz low in her ear. “Well, look at this. This big ol’ catfish is finally taking my bait. If we just wait here nice and quiet that fish’ll hook himself and we’ll have catfish for dinner.” That was the sort of voice Jake had used. A catfish-catching voice.
Berry made an effort to swallow the panic that was rising in her chest. “Miss Gaspich and Bill left early, and I stayed around to tidy up.”
His hands were at her neck, massaging little circles. “You feel tense.”
You bet I’m tense, she thought. I’m not as dumb as that ol’ catfish. I know when I’m about to get reeled in.
She felt his breath whisper through her hair while his hands slid over her shoulders and nestled against the fullness of her breasts. It was an act of gentle possession. As was the taking of her mouth: a silent affirmation of the power he held over her. His tongue touched hers in confident intimacy, and she felt his arousal stir against her belly. She placed both hands against his chest and pushed away. “Lord, you’re probably murder on catfish, too.”
Even in the dark she could see the look of astonishment on his face. “Catfish?” He rested his head against the refrigerator and groaned. “Do you hear someone at the front door?”
“Miss Gaspich?”
The door opened, and Bill’s voice drifted through the dark house in a stage whisper. “Mildred, I had a great time tonight.”
Miss Gaspich’s answer was low and indiscernible. There was a prolonged silence.
“Holy smoke,” Berry said, “you don’t suppose they’re…”
“Sounds to me like he’s got a more cooperative partner than I do.”
Berry and Jake cringed at the unmistakable thump, thump, thump of Mrs. Dugan thundering down the hall, stomping down the stairs. A light flashed on in the living room.
“Mmmmmmmildred!” Mrs. Dugan pronounced it like a drum roll.
“This is Bill Kozinski,” Miss Gaspich said. “We were just saying good night.”
“He has a tattoo.”
“It’s an anchor. He was in the navy.”
A car door slammed in the driveway, and Mrs. Fitz and Harry joined the party.
“What the devil is this?” Mrs. Fitz demanded. “Why isn’t everyone asleep?”
Mrs. Dugan stood her ground. “You’d like that. You’d like to have the living room all to yourself, I suppose.”
“Darn right. How’re we supposed to neck with you standing there gawking at us?”
Bill put his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Time to leave.”
They made a quick exit.
Mrs. Fitz glared at Mrs. Dugan. “See what you’ve done. You made them go away.”
Mrs. Dugan shook her finger at Mrs. Fitz. “You’ll never catch a man that way. Everyone knows men don’t buy what they can get for free.”
“Well, that’s fine with me ’cause I don’t want to be bought.”
“Me either.” Miss Gaspich giggled. “I don’t want to be bought, but I might be persuaded to give it away for free.”
Mrs. Dugan and Mrs. Fitz instantly turned scarlet. “Mildred!”
“I think we should all go into the kitchen and make a nice pot of tea.” Miss Gaspich smiled pleasantly. “I’m just dying to tell someone about Bill.”
Chapter 7
Berry sipped her orange juice and watched Jake from the corner of her eye. He was clearly lost in his own thoughts. He glanced at the clock while he unconsciously drank his coffee. An air of brooding expectancy gave his dark eyebrows an ominous slant. She’d successfully avoided him since the kitchen encounter, trying with little success to sort out her feelings. It was like playing the game of plucking petals off a daisy. Keep The Plan. Junk The Plan. Keep The Plan. Junk The Plan.
In the beginning it had been her body that wanted to junk The Plan, but more and more, it was her mind that wanted to love Jake Sawyer. Oddly enough, he carried a sense of order and security with him. His lifestyle was a little extravagant, what with one-of-a-kind cars and exploding cereal, but his house was a home. That was the part that really scared her. Was she still looking for someone to take care of her mittens? Was she still looking for someone to fill in the blanks in her personality? Jake Sawyer was the man every woman dreamed of, but some incomprehensible, elusive instinct gnawed at her stomach when she thought of commitment to him.
Mrs. Fitz hadn’t noticed Jake’s preoccupation. She was contemplating the raspberry-colored egg on her breakfast plate. “Looks like Jell-O. Is it Jell-O?”
Jake checked the clock one more time. “Nope. It’s not Jell-O.”
Mrs. Fitz tried to cut it, but it skittered across the table. “Slippery little devil,” she remarked.
Berry had a similar object on her plate. It was green. “You sure this is edible?”
Jake looked injured. “Of course it’s edible. It’s also entirely natural and high in protein.”
“How’d it get green?”
“Spinach extract.”
Berry rolled it onto her spoon and watched in dismay as it slithered off Slinky style. “How do you eat it?”
Jake leaned back in his chair. “That’s the fun part.”
“You have a bizarre idea of fun.”
This was better than a room filled with first graders, Jake thought. He got to test out ideas on the ladies. Tomorrow he was going to see what they thought of his dancing Brussels sprouts.
Mrs. Fitz poked the egglike thing with her finger. “Is this a bedroom toy? Is this for those people who spray themselves with whipped cream?”
Mrs. Dugan looked up horrified. “Land sakes, Lena. You’re such a pervert. Where do you get these ideas?”
“Well, it don’t seem right for breakfast,” Mrs. Fitz complained. “At seven o’clock in the morning I don’t have the energy to chase my food around.”
Miss Gaspich glanced at her watch. “It’s not seven o’clock. It’s nine-thirty. It’s Saturday.”
“It don’t matter. It’s still too early.”
Mrs. Dugan looked disdainfully at Mrs. Fitz. “If you got to bed at a reasonable time, you’d be able to get up in the morning. I think it’s disgraceful, a woman your age staying out to all hours with that man.”
Mrs. Fitz narrowed her eyes at Mrs. Dugan. “What do you mean a woman my age? I’m not so old. Besides, I’m getting younger now that I have a beau. Haven’t had this much fun in twenty years.”
Miss Gaspich looked happily pensive as she stirred her tea. “I think I’m in love,” she said.
Mrs. Fitz shook her head. “It’s the quiet ones that fool you. Three dates, and she’s goony-eyed.”
“Isn’t this something,” Miss Gaspich said. “Just like the Love Boat where everyone falls in love. Lena and Harry, me and Bill, Berry and Jake—”
“Berry and Jake are not in love,” Berry said.
Jake raised his eyebrows.
Mrs. Fitz looked disgusted. “Of course you’re in love. Any ninny could see you’re in love.”
Berry narrowed her eyes and busied herself with her green egg. She held it firmly in her hand and tried to stab it with her fork. “I’m not in love, and Jake certainly isn’t in love,” she said.
Jake looked at her with amused curiosity. “How do you know I’m not in love?”
“It takes a long time to fall in love. We hardly know each other.”
Mrs. Dugan sniffled and stared at her fingernails.
“Oh, dear,” Miss Gaspich said, “I think one of us missed the Love Boat.”
Mrs. Fitz put her arm around Mrs. Dugan’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Sarah, Jake’ll find a man for you.”
Mrs. Dugan stiffened her spine. “I don’t need Jake to find me a man. If I wanted a man I’d find one myself. It doesn�
��t bother me that I’m the only one here without a boyfriend. Doesn’t bother me at all. I found a man the first time around and I can find one now…if I want.”
“Sarah was married to a wonderful man,” Mrs. Fitz said. “And she has a son and two grandchildren.”
“You’re a big blabbermouth,” Mrs. Dugan said to Mrs. Fitz.
“That’s amazing!” Berry said. “I had no idea.”
“She don’t talk about it much because her husband was so sick for so long, and it was hard on the family.”
“It was only hard in a financial way,” Mrs. Dugan said. “It was hard to make ends meet, but we always managed to find a way.”
“What is your son doing now?” Berry asked. “Does he live in Seattle?”
“He’s in South Carolina.”
“He took up with a floozy,” Mrs. Fitz said.
“And I won’t set foot in that floozy’s house,” Mrs. Dugan said. “My son’s first wife took a job in Florida after the divorce. She’s a nurse at a hospital there. I get nice cards from my granddaughters, but I don’t get to see them much being that they’re so far away. Sometimes I get invitations, but I know everyone is scraping by, and I don’t want to be a burden.”
“One of Sarah’s granddaughters is enrolled in the University of Miami,” Mrs. Fitz said. “She’s going into medicine like her mama.”
“I’m real proud of her,” Mrs. Dugan said.
Jake folded his hands behind his head and tipped back in his chair, looking totally pleased with himself. In fact, Berry thought, he looked downright triumphant.
Everyone jumped when the doorbell rang.
“My word,” Mrs. Fitz said, “that’s the first time someone’s come to the door since we moved in here.”
Jake smiled and stood. “Probably just the paper boy collecting.”
The four women watched while Jake opened the front door wide to reveal a young man from a courier service. Jake took an envelope from the messenger and waved it at Mrs. Dugan. “It’s for you.”
Mrs. Dugan covered her mouth with her hand. “Someone’s died.”
Jake placed the envelope on the table. “I don’t think so. The return address is from a travel agency.”
Mrs. Dugan still looked worried when she opened it. She scanned the letter, and her eyes opened wide. “I don’t understand this. This must be one of those advertising gimmicks.”
Mrs. Fitz snatched the letter from Mrs. Dugan. “Lord, we’re all sitting here dying of curiosity.” Her lips moved while she read. “Sarah, you’ve won a trip on a cruise ship!”
Berry pressed her lips together and scowled at Jake. “Cruise ship?”
Jake smiled innocently. “Looks like the Love Boat’s going to sail for Mrs. Dugan, after all.”
Mrs. Fitz continued reading. “It says here this travel agency is running a senior citizens’ singles cruise, and your name was drawn to get a free ticket. All expenses paid. This is real, Sarah. I know about these cruises. They’re wonderful. Dottie Silverstein went on one last year.”
Mrs. Dugan fidgeted with her teacup. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about this. A singles cruise. Goodness.”
“You better make up your mind fast. This boat sails tomorrow,” Mrs. Fitz told her.
Mrs. Dugan looked at the color brochure that accompanied the letter. “The boat does look pretty. I’ve never been on a big boat before.”
Mrs. Fitz slapped her leg. “Ain’t this something? You live long enough and you get to do just about everything.”
Mrs. Dugan stood at her seat. “I’ll do it!” She placed her hand over her heart. “I have to tell you, I’m scared to death.”
Berry looked at the brochure and mentally reviewed Mrs. Dugan’s wardrobe. She would need evening clothes, a bathing suit, a couple of casual outfits—none of which was hanging in her closet. The women had been getting by with a bare minimum for years. Their clothes consisted of a few practical dresses and well-worn sweaters.
“I’m going to get another cup of coffee,” Berry mumbled.
She took her cup into the kitchen and quietly emptied the sugar bowl she’d been using as a piggy bank. She’d been saving money for a Jeep, but this was an important emergency. She suspected Jake was behind this free ticket and that his motives weren’t entirely honorable, but it didn’t matter right now. Mrs. Dugan had an opportunity to do something special. Berry counted the money lying on the counter. Almost three hundred dollars. It wasn’t a huge amount, but Mrs. Dugan would be able to buy a few pretty things with it.
Berry handed the money over to Mrs. Dugan. “I hereby bestow upon you a paltry sum of money for the purpose of decking yourself out in grand style for this romantic cruise.” Berry turned to Mrs. Fitz and Miss Gaspich. “Ladies, you’re excused from pizza making for the day. I expect you to chaperone Mrs. Dugan on her rounds of the stores. Don’t let her pick up any cute young salesmen. She has to save herself for this cruise.”
Mrs. Dugan blushed and smiled. “Well, I might pick up one or two just for practice.”
Berry felt the laughter bubbling in her throat. Was this stuffy Mrs. Dugan talking?
Mrs. Dugan hugged Berry. “I know this is Jeep money, and I promise I’ll pay it all back. I’ll work twice as hard when I come back.”
The tears were hot behind Berry’s eyes. Mrs. Dugan was suddenly so much younger and happier. It was as if she was a sponge—all dry and shriveled one minute, and then suddenly swelling into radiant plumpness with the promise of a romantic adventure. Why hadn’t she seen this? Why hadn’t she realized Mrs. Dugan simply needed to have some fun? The answer took her breath away. She’d been so busy depriving herself of fun that she’d accepted Mrs. Dugan’s stern stoicism as natural.
At seven o’clock Berry turned the sign in the window to read CLOSED.
Jake looked up from the cash register. “Something wrong?”
“We’re closing early tonight. We’re having a bon voyage party.”
Jake put his hand to her forehead. “You running a fever?”
Berry threw her baker’s apron on the counter. “Not yet, but the night is still young.”
“I like this kind of talk.”
“We need party stuff. Chips and dip and cheap champagne.”
“I feel like hiring a band.”
“I think you’ve done enough already. After all, you bought Mrs. Dugan’s cruise ticket.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
Berry locked the front door behind them. “Are you going to deny it?”
“No. But I don’t think I want to admit to it, either.”
“You go across the street to Groman’s Bakery and see if you can get some sort of cake. Maybe you can persuade them to write something appropriate on it. I’ll get the champagne and munchies and meet you back here.”
Half an hour later they rendezvoused at the car. Jake held a large white baker’s box in his hands. “Wait until you see this terrific cake. Mrs. Schwartz got mad at her husband and canceled their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary party.”
“And you bought their cake?”
“I got a real good deal.”
Berry peeked inside. “There must be ten pounds of icing on this cake.”
“Mrs. Schwartz likes icing.”
Berry slid behind the wheel of the station wagon. “I’ll drive, you hold the icing.”
Jake settled the heavy box on his lap. “Why did you decide to do this? I was under the impression that nothing short of an invasion by aliens would get you to close the Pizza Place early.”
Berry twisted her hands on the wheel. “It was the look on Mrs. Dugan’s face. Like she was a little girl, and it was Christmas morning. She hadn’t expected anything that nice to ever happen to her again. It made peddling pizza sort of insignificant.”
The hand that touched her cheek was gentle. It tangled in the hair behind her ear and caressed her neck. “You deserve nice things, too. If I gave you a cruise, would you go on it?”
“Don’t eve
n think about it. No more cruises!”
“Maybe we could go on a cruise for our honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon?”
The car careened into the wrong lane and thumped against the curb, causing the cake to fly off Jake’s lap, smash into the dashboard, and flip over onto Jake’s feet. Berry came to a screeching halt, looking first at Jake’s chalk-white face and then at his brand-new loafers, buried under a mountain of icing. Berry clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, crud.”
Jake plucked a gooey piece of cake from his trouser leg and tasted it. “Not bad.”
Berry reached down and lifted a sizable lump from his cuff. “Yum, cherry filling between the layers.”
“Mrs. Schwartz knows what she’s doing when it comes to ordering cake.”
“Ah, about the honeymoon. You did say honeymoon?”
“Mmmm. Remember my plan. Kids and dogs and a wife and stuff? Not necessarily in that order. Man, this cake is great.” He offered her a piece from the dashboard. “You have to try this. One of the layers was chocolate.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t kid about chocolate cake.”
Berry felt the cake flipping around in her stomach. “Kids and dogs and wife and stuff?”
“I told you about it in the basement the other day.”
“Number one…you’re ignoring my plan. And number two…of all the nerve! You just don’t assume these things. What about a proposal?”
Jake licked the cake from his finger. “If I asked you to marry me, what would you say?”
“No!”
“Exactly. I decided my best shot was to hang around and make myself lovable and indispensable.”
She squinched her eyes closed and slapped herself on the forehead. “Unk.”
“How do you do that? How do you make that sort of strangled sound in your throat?” Jake asked.
When she stopped the car he was going to find out. She was going to place her fingers on his neck and squeeze until he made his very own strangling sounds. It would be okay. She was sure the judge would understand.
The Grand Finale Page 9
