Now You See Me

by Kris Fletcher

  “Easy. She wants to stay.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. “Both of us, me and her.”

  Lyddie’s stomach did a funny little contraction. J.T.? Stay? In Comeback Cove? That would play hell with her love-him-and-let-him-leave plans, for sure.

  On the other hand, life was definitely more interesting since he had swaggered back into town. The idea had a certain appeal. Well, except for the way it made her stomach twist.

  She added a spoon and two packets of crackers to the tray. “But there’s no chance of that happening, right?”

  “About the same chance of a snowstorm blowing through here in the next hour.”

  That should make her feel a whole lot better. Should being the operative word.

  He slapped money on the counter. “Anyway, I was wondering...”

  Lyddie glanced up. The edginess was back, hovering just below the surface of his voice. He seemed almost as jittery as she felt. Almost like a fifteen-year-old who was getting ready to ask a girl out for his first date.

  Now, there was a wonderful prospect. Maybe he would make the first move.

  “Yes?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.

  “Would you be interested in— I mean, would you have some free time later today? I have some papers for you.”

  Oh.

  Lyddie’s hopes fell as the heat rose in her cheeks. Business. He wanted to talk business. The man was this close to two weeks of a virtual male fantasy—no-strings sex with a woman who had four years of celibacy to make up for—and he would rather talk business.

  She stared at the briefcase on the table, sure that the heat of her glare could burn right through the leather. From the corner of her eye she saw Ted and Jillian whispering in a way that boded no good, but for the moment, she really didn’t care.

  “Lyddie?”

  Back to reality. She let her hands drop below the counter so he couldn’t see the way she was curling them into fists of frustration. “Sure. This afternoon. Right.”

  “Great. I’ll be here.” He tossed his change on the tray before carrying it to his table.

  Nadine bustled through the door, a fresh tray of muffins in her hands. “Did I miss any excitement?”

  Argh.

  Lyddie slipped through the kitchen and locked herself in the bathroom. Once there, she ran the water until it was icy, filled the sink, then closed her eyes and dunked her face as deep as she could without drenching her hair. Maybe the shock would knock some sense into her.

  “Damn it!” She came up sputtering, groping blindly for paper towels. She didn’t feel any more sensible, but at least she was awake enough to smell the coffee.

  Unless she worked up a boatload of courage real soon, the temperature was the only thing that was going to make her break a sweat.

  * * *

  J.T. STARED AT the papers before him and tried to remember why he’d thought this was a good idea.

  The morning had been pure hell. Iris insisted on packing everything, Ben chattered nonstop about fishing and there was enough humidity to make him long for the dry heat of Tucson. Add in the fact that he seemed to have forgotten the basic steps in asking a woman to dinner, and he was left with a knot in his gut and a bad taste in his mouth.

  Oh, he remembered the essentials. Grin, get her smiling, lower the voice so no one else could hear, deliver the question. If this were anyone but Lyddie he would have been fine. But somehow, the usual steps didn’t feel like enough with Lyddie. He didn’t want to drop an invitation into the middle of a conversation about packing and soup. Silly as it seemed, he wanted to do this right. A little more privacy. A few less ears to overhear.

  For now, though, he was stuck eating a bowl of soup that he barely remembered ordering and couldn’t decide if he liked or not. There was something green floating in it. Spinach? Not that it mattered. He was too edgy to eat. He shuffled the papers and tried to look serious while spooning up broth. If he were lucky he could keep this up long enough for everyone to return to their previously scheduled lives, and he could leave without everyone watching.

  He turned a page, opened the crackers and frowned as the light dimmed. For a second he hoped a cloud had rolled in. Then a footstep grabbed his attention. He glanced up to see Ted McFarlane looming over his table.

  Damn it to hell.

  Ted had always loomed. He seemed to think it made him seem intimidating. Good thing he didn’t know it just made it easier to notice the slight bend in his nose that had been J.T.’s last and only gift to him.

  “Mornin’, Ted.”

  “Afternoon, J.T.”

  J.T. winced. So much for appearing cool and collected.

  “Something I can help you with?” he asked, hoping Ted wanted nothing more than a donation to a local charity.

  “Sure can.”

  Every muscle in J.T.’s shoulders seized tight.

  “You can call off your dogs.”

  Ah, damn. Every head in the place had turned in their direction. Even Lyddie’s, as he saw when he instinctively glanced her way. For a second he felt bad that this was going down in her shop. Then he realized that while everyone else was staring at him in morbid fascination, like something about to be thrown to the lions, Lyddie’s expression alternated between fury—when she looked at Ted—and encouragement, when she looked at him.

  Lydia Brewster was cheering him on.

  “There’s only one dog in my house, Ted. It belongs to my mother, and the most I’ve ever seen it move is to lift its head to eat. Other than that, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Ted shifted. “Your buddies. The ones harassing my wife to fast-track approval for your sale to Lyddie.”

  What the hell? “Thanks for the compliment, Ted, but you’re giving me way too much credit. I haven’t asked anyone to do anything for me except sell me paint and soup.”

  J.T. purposefully kept the words low and mild. Nonetheless, they raced through the store like an urban legend on the internet.

  Ted’s face reddened slightly. “Right. That’s why my wife has people coming up to her on the street, telling her to approve your sales and get you out of town.”

  He remembered Steve’s nervousness in the hardware store. Damn.

  J.T. sat back in his chair and feigned indifference, though it took every ounce of his willpower to do so. “Sorry that I’m overstaying my welcome, but I’ll be gone as fast as I can. Meantime, believe it or not, all I’m doing is minding my own business.”

  Ted laughed, short and disbelieving. “Right. Tell me another one, J.T.”

  Three tables over, he saw Jillian watching, her lips slightly parted as if in anticipation of a kiss. Oh, lord. Ted needed to impress Jillian, and he was doing it by coming after J.T. It was high school all over again.

  “Sit down, Ted,” he said with more fatigue than rancor. “It’s too hot for this crap.”

  “Fine. Just tell me what kind of trouble you’re trying to stir up.” Ted lowered his voice to what he probably thought was a menacing growl. He jerked his head toward the counter. “And why you had to drag Lyddie into it.”

  “First, I don’t drag people into situations against their will. Anyone who’s with me is there because they want to be.” He pitched the words loud enough to carry to Jillian and the rest of the room. Lucky for her, he was probably the only one who noticed the way she paled.

  “And second,” he continued, “you know as well as I do there’s nothing illegal about this sale.”

  “Just because it’s legal doesn’t make it right.”

  “It’s right for me. And for Lydia.”

  “But not for the town.”

  He didn’t even try to stop the snort. “You think that’s gonna make me change my mind?”

  “Would it kill you to do the decent thing for once?”

  “Hell, no. I can be as decent as the next guy. I’m selling a great property to a long-standing tenant at a fair price. What could be more decent than that?”

  “Call o
ff this sale. Help Lyddie move on. Let Cripps Chips come here.” Ted’s fists tightened. “Think of it as making up for what you did.”

  “You think I owe this to the town.”

  “Damned straight.”

  “And what about Lydia?”

  The stubborn expression on Ted’s face never wavered. “We’ll take care of her, just like always. We’ll make sure she gets something good. Something newer, where she can—”

  “I don’t want another place,” Lyddie said quietly from behind Ted’s back. J.T. let loose with the grin he’d been holding back since he’d spotted her stalking toward them, tucking a towel in the pocket of her apron as if she planned to use it to whack some sense into someone.

  To give Ted his due, he didn’t get flustered or angry. He simply smiled gently at Lyddie, the way he undoubtedly would to a small child incapable of understanding a complex problem.

  He was so dead.

  “Lyddie, come on. You know you don’t want to do this.”

  “I don’t?”

  Ted shook his head. Obviously he had missed the flatness in Lyddie’s voice. “Of course not. You understand that we’re not trying to be the bad guys. We just want to do what’s best for everyone.”

  “How nice.” She smiled sweetly. J.T. shivered. He wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of this. “And what if I told you that nobody is allowed to accost anyone else in my establishment?”

  Whoa. Who would have thought there was a hellcat hiding inside Lyddie?

  Ted blinked. “Huh?”

  Lyddie kept her voice very quiet, but there was no doubting the force of her words. “I mean it, Ted. You can’t attack anyone in my store and you definitely can’t tell me what to do with my business.”

  “I’m not trying to—”

  “Oh, yes, you are. And while you’re generally an okay guy and I have no doubt you believe you’re doing what’s best for everyone, the fact is, I’m not willing to let you choose the course of my life. So right now, I suggest you apologize to J.T. and go eat your sandwich before I turn it into humble pie.”

  Ted’s face took on an expression of such horror that J.T. almost burst out laughing. He couldn’t recall the last time someone in the Cove had stood up for him—in public, no less—and it was turning into a mighty fine experience. If he hadn’t been hungry for more of Lyddie before, he was now.

  “Don’t worry, Ted. I’ll spare you the effort.” J.T. rose slowly, both to prolong Ted’s agony and to give himself more time surrounded by Lyddie’s vanilla perfume. He offered a formal bow. “Mrs. Brewster, on behalf of Mr. McFarlane and myself, let me offer my sincere apology for acting like two buffoons in your shop.”

  Ted mumbled something that sounded like agreement.

  “Apology accepted.” Lyddie glowered at them both for a moment, then let it soften into something warmer.

  “You’re both welcome to stay. I’m not in the habit of telling people what they should do or where they should go.”

  Ted had the grace to flush.

  J.T. shook his head. “That’s okay. Time for me to get back to work, anyway.” When a roomful of curious eyes glanced his way, his smile narrowed. “Show’s over, folks. See you later, Lyddie.”

  * * *

  THE SHOP EMPTIED soon after J.T. left. Most of the witnesses made sure Lyddie knew they hoped she would be okay, and that they were pleased to know she wouldn’t be moving. She nodded and bit her tongue to keep from reminding them that she wasn’t the one in need of apologies.

  Jillian, however, was another story. No sooner had J.T. left than she whipped a notebook from her purse, ignoring her husband while furiously jotting notes. Nadine muttered something about lawsuits and running people out of town. Lyddie’s blood boiled. When she walked past to wipe down a table, she couldn’t keep herself from bumping against Her Worship’s arm. The ensuing scrawl across the page was a reward in and of itself.

  “Oh, Jillian, excuse me. I lost my balance for a second.”

  Jillian looked highly aggrieved, but she forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I hope it wasn’t anything important.” Lyddie tried to catch a glimpse of the words filling the page, but Jillian snapped the book closed.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” When Lyddie shrugged and went to move on, Jillian added, loud enough to carry, “Though if I were you, Lydia, I wouldn’t be so quick to stand up for J.T. People notice those things, you know. They’re bound to talk.”

  A month ago, even a week ago, that might have worried Lyddie. Not today.

  So when Jillian followed her oh-so-helpful words with a knowing smirk, Lyddie merely leaned closer and said, “I doubt it, Jillian. They’re too busy laying odds on whether or not that vacation you took last winter was really a cruise, or if it had something to do with the sudden lack of wrinkles around your eyes.”

  Jillian froze, Ted coughed and behind the counter, Nadine dropped the mug she’d been filling.

  By the time three o’clock arrived, Lyddie couldn’t wait to lock the door on the day. All she wanted was to kick off her shoes and collapse in silence for a few minutes before she had to go home.

  Then she remembered that J.T. was coming back to talk to her. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so exhausted after all.

  “Go home, Nadine,” she said as the older woman tossed her apron in the laundry hamper by the back door. “And cross your fingers that tomorrow is easier.”

  Nadine shook her head in that slow way that always warned Lyddie there was a lecture ahead. “I’d say that’s mostly up to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you. Something’s going on with you, missy, and I wish you’d get it straightened out before the rest of us have to pay any more than we already have.”

  Lyddie’s stomach tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Lyddie. Your moods are flying all over the place, you’re turning red all the time, you keep closing your eyes like you’re trying to hold it together and today you lost your brains long enough to insult Their Royal Highnesses. It’s obvious to anyone who takes the time to put it together.”

  “It is?” Lyddie forced herself to keep her eyes wide open as she reached back to brace her hands on the butcher-block table. There was no way Nadine could know about her supersecret fantasies for the upcoming weeks—but it sure sounded as though she had an idea.

  And if Nadine had figured it out, then half the town already suspected her of sleeping with J.T.

  Which was an oddly cheering thought, actually. If everyone believed it anyway, then what was left to stop her?

  “Ah, Lyddie, come on. There’s no shame in it anymore. It’s not like it used to be when women tried to hide it.”

  “Of course not.”

  “So have you done anything about it yet?”

  “Uh...”

  Nadine frowned. “You really should. It’s only going to get worse the longer you wait, you know, and there’s no point in suffering when you don’t have to. Especially when the rest of us have to feel the fallout.”

  Oh, dear God. Had Nadine just given her permission to jump J.T.?

  “What do you suggest I do?”

  “Well, get to the doctor first.”

  “Of course.”

  “And then do some research for yourself. You can find anything on the internet these days.”

  The memory of her web search on over-the-counter HIV tests the previous night brought heat to Lyddie’s cheeks. She was just about to admit that she’d already handled that task when Nadine took one look at her face and groaned.

  “Another one coming? Go splash some water on your cheeks before you turn into a lobster.”

  Lyddie’s embarrassment did a one-eighty and turned into confusion. “Another what?”

  “Well, another hot flash, of course.”

  Lyddie stared stupidly, replaying the conversation in her mind. Symptoms...doctor...moods...

  “Oh, my God. You think I’m going through menopause?”

&
nbsp; “Well, what the hell did you think I was talking about?”

  “I... But...” Holy crap. Her brave attempts to turn her life around were being dismissed as nothing more than hormones?

  “You honestly think that’s the problem?”

  “Don’t see how it could be anything else. There’s no way you could be pregnant, you’re the right age, and you—”

  “I’m only forty-two!”

  “That’s plenty old. I knew a girl over in Morrisburg who started in her thirties.”

  “Lucky her,” Lyddie mumbled. Menopause. Never mind that Nadine was calling it all wrong. The very word made her feel old and broken, like she should be reaching for a sweater. Plus it irked the hell out of her, knowing that she was seen as such a permanent widow that people couldn’t even come up with anything juicier to pin on her. She didn’t want to be the town tramp, but come on. Did they honestly think she was that meek, that undesirable, that only raging aging hormones could drive her to action?

  A soft rap sounded at the back door. Nadine cursed. Lyddie started and her gaze flew toward the sound.

  It was J.T., giving her that smile that only she seemed to see. Everything in her that had felt momentarily withered and discarded bloomed into sudden life, pulsing through her.

  “What’s he doing here?” Nadine asked.

  “We have some papers to discuss.”

  He pointed at his watch, but Lyddie was way ahead of him. It was time to meet. Time to act.

  Time to make her move.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LYDDIE WAS VAGUELY AWARE that Nadine had said goodbye and slipped out. But mostly, now that she’d made her decision, all she could focus on was J.T., in all his glorious flesh.

  She moved fast through the kitchen, not allowing herself to think. She’d done nothing but think for too long now. It was time to start doing.

  She saw his surprise at her approach, saw the way it quickly shifted into a gut-melting grin of welcome when she opened the door, and from the top of her head to the tip of her quivering toes, she knew that if she could get up the nerve to go through with this, she would end up with the best how-I-spent-my-summer-vacation essay ever.

  He stepped closer. “How are you doing?”