by Melinda Metz
“You got it, cookie.” Riley climbed off Diogee and ran out of the kitchen.
“In case you didn’t notice, Riley’s gotten really into cowboy slang. I found a list online.” Ruby grabbed a rawhide out of a cupboard and handed it to Diogee. He dropped down to the floor with a contented sigh and started to gnaw on it. “Talk fast. We’ve got about five seconds before the one with the underage ears is back.” She added butter to the pan.
Briony let go of Diogee’s leash. “So, Nate and I went out for drinks last night. He took me to the most—”
“No time. Skip to the good part,” Ruby interrupted.
“Weslepttogether.” Briony’s words came out smashed together, partly because she was trying to talk fast and partly because she was so embarrassed.
“Mac, Mac, Mac.” Ruby shook her head. “If I didn’t love my job, I’d become a matchmaker with that cat as my secret weapon.” She looked over her shoulder, checking for Riley. “How was it?”
“Ruby! I didn’t come over here to give you salacious details!” Briony exclaimed. “I came over here because—what did I do?”
“I’d guess you had some pretty hot sex.” A huge smile appeared on Ruby’s face. “Didn’t you, ya old coot?” she added in a loud, overly enthusiastic voice.
“She just called you a ninny,” Riley told Briony as she galloped back into the room, having traded Diogee for an imaginary horse.
“I might be a ninny,” Briony admitted. Except she felt so good. Her body felt like it was filled with warm honey, her limbs so relaxed she was surprised her legs had been able to carry her over there. It’s like she was a completely different person than she’d been the last time she sat at Ruby’s kitchen table.
Riley dragged a little stool over to the stove and climbed up on it. “I like to watch the squirts,” she told Briony.
Briony was about to ask if it was safe for her to be up on a stool so close to the stove but stopped herself. The two of them clearly had a routine, and Ruby had to know what Riley could handle. “What does ‘squirts’ mean in cowboy talk?” she asked instead.
“By gum! ‘Squirts’ ain’t cowboy,” Riley told her. Ruby held up a squirt bottle and waved it at Briony, then squeezed a thin stream of pancake batter, purple pancake batter, into the pan. Riley gave an “oooh” of appreciation. “I do the mane.”
“In one second.” Ruby continued adding more batter to the pan, then she put down her squirt bottle, picked up another one, and gave it to Riley. “You want help?” she asked. Riley shook her head. Holding the bottle with both hands, her brow furrowed with concentration, she began squirting pink batter into the pan.
“Beautiful,” Ruby told her when Riley handed the squirt bottle back. She added some more batter. “Now we wait—”
“Until it gets bubbles,” Riley finished.
Briony was impatient to talk to Ruby about what happened with Nate, but she couldn’t help enjoying the interaction between Ruby and Riley. When she was Riley’s age, her parents spent lots of time with her, but there was always this, this overlay of caution. “Stay within sight. Let us do that. Be careful.” Thinking back, she understood some of the fun had been sucked out.
“Look!” While Briony had been caught up in her memories, the pancake, make that flapjack, had been finished, and Riley was holding her plate out for Briony to see.
“Awesome!” Briony exclaimed. The pink-and-purple pony was adorable. “You did a great job on the mane.”
Riley sat down in the chair next to Briony. “I did the eye, too.”
“Fabulous eye,” Briony said as Ruby put a plate down in front of her.
“You know what would be good on this? Some cow slobber,” Riley announced.
“Okay, I got this. ‘Cow slobber’ is cowboy for syrup, right?” Briony asked. The little girl was covering every inch of her pony in the stuff.
Riley giggled and shook her head.
“Butter?”
Riley shook her head, giggling harder.
“Chocolate chips, bananas, strawberries,” Briony continued, enjoying Riley’s reaction. “Oh, I know! Whipped cream. That one actually looks kind of like cow slobber.”
“She’s kind of close, isn’t she, chickabiddy?” Ruby joined them at the table.
“It’s morandgee,” Riley said.
“Meringue,” Ruby translated. “And I’m not sure it would taste good on pancakes, but I’m willing to try next time you come for breakfast,” she told Riley.
Ruby had to be the coolest babysitter ever, Briony thought. Although Nate gave her a run for her money. She wondered what he was doing right now. Did he have that warm-honey feeling in his body, too? He was so cute that morning, asking her about her injury. That look he gave her right before he ran his foot over hers . . . It was almost like he was touching her with his eyes.
“Briony?” Ruby’s tone made Briony think Ruby had said her name more than once.
“Uh-huh?”
“I don’t even want to know what you were thinking about just now. Or maybe I do, but later,” Ruby said. Briony felt her face get hot. She was never, ever going to tell Ruby that when Nate looked at her it was like he was touching her with his eyes. That belonged in a high school diary. Not Briony’s high school diary. Briony hadn’t gone out with anyone in high school. But somebody’s. It didn’t belong in the head of a twenty-seven-year-old woman.
“What were you asking me before?”
“If you wanted another pancake.”
“I didn’t—” Briony looked at her plate. The pancake was gone. She must have eaten it on autopilot while she was daydreaming about Nate. “No thanks,” she told Ruby.
Diogee finished his rawhide and came over. His muzzle was way too close to tabletop level. Before she could react, he swiped his tongue across her plate. “Back, back, back!” Briony ordered. He took a step closer and managed to get another lick. “I don’t know how to control him!” she cried.
“Neither do his owners,” Ruby answered. She got up and grabbed another rawhide for Diogee. “That’s my method.” She picked up Briony’s shiny plate. “All ready for the dishwasher. No rinsing required.”
“Can he do my plate?” Riley begged.
“No. All that syrup isn’t good for him,” Ruby answered. “If you’re done, why don’t you go get dressed. I made you something. It’s in your room.” That’s all it took. Riley ran out of the kitchen.
“Her room?” Briony asked.
“The guest room. She uses it more than anybody,” Ruby answered. “I get such a kick out of that kid. I owe Mac big-time. Now back to you. And him. Full disclosure, I looked him up online. He’s fine as cream gravy, to continue in the cowboy vein.”
Briony groaned. “I’m so confused. Last night was amazing, all of it. But I was engaged not even a week ago. Which Nate doesn’t know. Because I wasn’t expecting to sleep with him, so I didn’t think I had to tell him. And now I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”
“Oh no. I’m not falling for that. I promised I wasn’t giving you any advice.”
“Can you tell me if you think I’m a horrible person? That’s not advice.” Briony felt like there was a battle going on inside her. Bad Person vs. Honey Body.
Ruby shook her head, then relented. “I don’t think you’re a horrible person. Which isn’t going to help if you think you’re a horrible person. Do you?”
“If somebody told me they did what I did, I might not think they were horrible, but I would think they did the wrong thing,” Briony admitted.
“Okay.” Ruby slapped her palms on the table. “This isn’t advice. This is just another question. Say you came out here for vacation, no ex-fiancé, just a fun trip to California. And you meet Nate. And you’re attracted to each other. And you have sex. And you both know you’re not from here and it’s just a fling. How do you feel?”
“That’s so not me that it’s hard to imagine it,” Briony said. “I’m not a fling kind of person. I mean, I’ve never been a fling kind of person. I
’ve had two long-term relationships. That’s it.” She thought for a moment. “If we both knew I was on vacation and it was just a fun kind of thing . . . I don’t think that’s horrible. But that’s not exactly the situation.”
“More questions. Are you hurting Nate?”
Briony considered. “No.”
“Are you hurting what’s-his-name, Caleb?”
“Not more than I already did,” Briony admitted. “I get your point. Last night, it was a blast of attraction. I didn’t stop to think. Well, only long enough to deal with precautions. Now, though, I’m thinking.” She rubbed her forehead, as if that would help her figure things out. “I’m supposed to go help Nate at this Family Night they have at The Gardens. But maybe it’s better not to even see him again. Except he’s such a good guy. I have to at least say something.”
Briony let out a silent scream of frustration. She didn’t want to scare Riley. “You’ve just been given the view of what it’s like inside my head all the time. I can’t decide anything.”
“Until you pass out in the church.” Ruby smiled, taking the sting out of the words.
“Right. Until that.”
* * *
Mac returned home just in time for Briony to open the door for him. He’d decided to do a little morning shopping for Gib. So far he hadn’t found something that gave Gib the happies, but Mac would keep trying until he did.
“Out again?” Briony exclaimed as he trotted inside. He went directly to his water dish. One of the presents had left his tongue coated with something thick. There was plenty of water, but he could smell that it had been standing since breakfast. He gave a meow to put in an order for fresh.
“It’s not anywhere near time for dinner,” Briony told him. “That’s hours and hours away.” She fetched him a treat from his jar and leaned down to give it to him. He batted it out of her hand. Diogee appeared and caught it in mid-air. Mac wished he’d eaten it himself, even though he didn’t want it. The bonehead should not be allowed cat treats. He wasn’t worthy.
Mac gave Briony another meow. She still needed training. She didn’t understand him the way Jamie did.
“Mac! What did you do to your mouth? Your tongue is all brown.” She knelt down next to him and tried to pry his mouth open. He had to give her a nip, just a little one.
“Ouch!” Briony exclaimed. She picked up his water dish, emptied it, and refilled it. Good human. She set it on the floor and watched intently as he began to drink, the gunk coating his tongue washing away. “Whatever it is, it’s coming off,” Briony said. “At least I won’t have to tell Jamie you’ve contracted some strange disease in addition to escaping over and over and over again.”
CHAPTER 10
Nate felt itchy. He’d been trying to get some paperwork done, but he couldn’t focus. Instead, he kept running over everything he’d done to address the sabotage. He’d had Bob go over the treadmill and all the other equipment in the gym. Henry too. They’d found nothing. Nate had tried out the treadmill himself and found nothing. The machine had stayed steady at every setting. Still, to be on the safe side, he was having it replaced.
He’d texted Eliza with an update, because he hadn’t thought another conversation could possibly be productive. She hadn’t answered. Later, he’d sent a second text, asking if she’d like for him to arrange for Archie to get an X-ray on his ankle, just to be sure it wasn’t broken. He’d gotten a terse reply saying she’d already had that done.
He’d had security cameras added to the community center and the gym that afternoon, and he personally checked that they were working. He’d talked to every member of the staff to find out if they’d noticed anything, no matter how small, out of the ordinary, but got nothing. For once, Nathalie and his mom weren’t calling or texting with a crisis, although right now he’d almost welcome one, one he could do something about. He had no idea what his next step should be.
It was more than an hour before he needed to be over at the dining room for Family Night. He stood up from his desk, finally accepting that he wasn’t going to get anything done in the office right then. Instead, he decided to walk over to his mom’s. She’d have called if she’d seen that man again, but it would make her feel better if Nate dropped by. It would make him feel better, too.
When he arrived, he found her in her pajamas. “Aren’t you feeling well, Mom?” he asked.
“No, no. I’m fine.”
He nodded. He’d have heard about it if she were sick. “Do you want to get dressed and come to Family Night with me?” he asked as they headed into the living room. He hadn’t invited her in a while, not that she needed a special invitation, because she almost always said no. “There’s always great food, and we’re showing Hairspray afterwards.”
“No, no. I’m fine.” She sat down and stared into space.
Nate sat down next to her, worry skittering through him. The TV was off. There wasn’t a book facedown on the coffee table. None of her crafting stuff was out. “What have you been up to all day?”
She didn’t answer for a long moment, then said, “I got up this morning, and I smelled oranges. I don’t have an orange in the house.”
His stomach tightened. Phantom smells could be a sign of a brain tumor, Parkinson’s too, he thought. And Ed Ramos, one of the residents who required more care, had complained of smelling wet dog for days before his stroke, even though no dog, wet or dry, had been anywhere near him.
“Mom, I’m trying to remember. When are you due to see Dr. Thurston? You’re about due to check in with her, aren’t you?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
She ignored his questions. “Then I realized it wasn’t actually oranges. It was that cologne your father wore, Creed Orange Spice,” his mother said, still staring out at nothing. “It was like he’d just walked out of the room.”
“Is today the first time you’ve smelled it? Since he left, I mean.”
She nodded. “I still have the bottle that was in the bathroom cabinet when he left, but I never open it. I don’t want to.... I don’t know why I haven’t thrown it away.”
“I didn’t think you had anything left of his.” He couldn’t say “Dad’s.” It wouldn’t come out of his mouth, not in front of her. She’d never told Nate or Nathalie they couldn’t talk to her about their father, but she’d gotten almost hysterical any time they had. It didn’t take either of them long to realize it was better to say nothing. He and his sister stopped mentioning him even between themselves, like they could erase the pain if they acted like he’d never existed.
“There were a few things I somehow couldn’t get rid of, even though I wanted to.”
“Could the bottle have broken? Maybe that’s why you’re smelling it.” Nate wanted a logical, non-medical explanation.
“I put the things in a garbage bag in the crawl space back when . . . That was as close to throwing them out as I could get.” His mother finally looked at him, and he saw unshed tears shining in her eyes. “I haven’t even looked at them since that day, but I can’t let them go.”
She’s never gotten over him, Nate realized. After all this time. He’d thought her life had gotten so small because his father had left her, not because she still somehow loved him. “Mom, I’m so sorry.” He put his arm around her shoulders.
“I know you are.” She leaned into him. “You’re a good boy, Nate.”
The itchy feeling was returning. He wanted to wipe away her sadness. He wanted to fix this, the way he wanted to fix what was happening at The Gardens. But he didn’t know how.
“Are you sure you won’t come to Family Night with me?” he finally asked. “I don’t want to leave you by yourself.”
“No, I’m not in the mood for all those people. You go on.”
Nate stood. “I’ll check on you later.”
“I’m sure I’ll be asleep.”
“Tomorrow morning then.” He stood, promising himself that he’d get her to her doctor as soon as he could make her an appointment, just to rule out any
physical causes for his mother smelling the cologne. “Make sure you lock the door after me,” he added.
As he walked out, it hit him that it was only a few days until the anniversary of the day his father left. That was probably the explanation for what his mother experienced. She didn’t want to think about him, but the memories were there, right under the surface, the same way that old cologne bottle was stuffed down in the crawl space.
Maybe when he visited her in the morning it would be time for them to really talk about his dad. He’d pulled back so many times, including tonight, because he didn’t want to upset her. But whether they talked about it or not, the feelings were there.
Tonight, though, he had other things to focus on. He wanted Family Night to be perfect. At least some of the residents’ families might have heard about the problem with the ventilation system or the treadmill or both, and he wanted to be able to reassure them. He picked up his pace. Would Eliza be there? If she was, he had to figure out the best way to approach her. Nate didn’t blame her for wanting to move Archie out. He’d only been at The Gardens a few weeks and there’d been two catastrophes.
Nate rounded the corner, and the community center came into sight, lights shining in every window. Clusters of people stood in the huge lobby, laughing and talking, as the waitstaff circulated with appetizers. It looked like a place you’d want someone you loved to be. And it was. It still was. He’d get to the bottom of the sabotage. Maybe he needed to hire a—
All Nate’s attention snapped to one person, to Briony, as she stepped into view, smiling at Rich and his grandson. Her auburn hair was loose tonight, falling down her back in waves. Looking at it, he could almost feel its silkiness as she’d leaned over him last night, her hair forming a curtain around them. He took the long, wide steps two at a time. When he walked inside, he had to force himself to give greetings and smiles to the people he passed. All he wanted was to get to her, feel her against him again. He had to settle for kissing her cheek—and for watching her face pinken when he did.
