Steady (Indigo)

by Robinson, Ruthie

  Colburn strolled in first, his eyes scanning the table. “Lord Almighty, Katrina! When you promised me fish, I thought you meant some good old home-fried catfish, not this pink fish. What kind of fish is pink, anyway,” he grumbled as he went over to wash his hands.

  “It’s salmon, and it’s good for you. Remember it has the good fat, helps to increase your good cholesterol. Remember HDL, good cholesterol, LDL, not so good,” she said.

  “Don’t start that again. You and your damn facts,” Colburn said, watching C enter the kitchen and walk over to the spot at the sink.

  “I only tell you these things because I love you. Would it kill either of you to eat a little healthier?”

  “You’ll never nab a man by nagging, Katrina,” Colburn said, taking a seat at the table.

  “You haven’t seen nagging, yet. I’ll show you nagging,” she said, enjoying the push-back she always got from the godfathers.

  She was pushy and prickly when she’d first come to live with Wes and Marlene Jones; she tried to show them her worst, hoping it wouldn’t be bad enough for them to send her back. They hadn’t. Then she moved on to striving for perfection, realizing how lucky she’d gotten with her parents. She became a rule follower, helped out when most kids her age were shooting the shit, stayed close to home to be with them, and almost didn’t survive their death.

  She sat down between Charles and Colburn and led them in grace. It was quiet for a while as they set about eating the dinner they had complained so much about.

  “Good, huh?” she asked.

  “Not too bad,” said Uncle C, chewing heartily. “So how’s it going with the Japanese fellow?”

  “It’s going good. I’ve delivered the design to the city committee on his behalf—he’s in Japan on business—so all we have to do now is wait.”

  “So when do we get to meet this new boyfriend of yours?” Colburn asked.

  Katrina looked up, her eyes narrowing in on Colburn. “Cut it out, you two. He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Is that so?” Colburn said, smiling at C.

  “What’s the smile about?” she asked.

  “Nothing, it’s just a smile. A man can’t smile in his house anymore without being questioned? A man can’t have any secrets of his own? That’s not right, Katrina,” he said, smiling and enjoying, as always, the ribbing he gave her.

  “So things are going okay with you working with him?” Charles asked.

  “Yep, all’s good,” she answered. She wasn’t going to talk about him anymore, was going to keep it strictly professional and garden-related. It was hard, though. She was still interested in spite of her fears, but couldn’t seem to get past them.

  She and the godfathers finished dinner and then she cleaned up the kitchen. She kissed them goodbye and left for home, enjoying, as always, her time with them.

  ***

  First weekend in June

  Katrina sat at her home computer checking the website for the list of those selected for the top five. There, listed among the other four, was Shining Creek. Yes! They’d been selected. Her phone rang. She noted from the caller ID that it was John, probably as excited by the results as she was. “Hello.”

  “Katrina, did you see the results? We made it again!”

  “Yes, I just finished checking, and yes, we did.”

  “This is proof positive that choosing Will for the job was the correct thing to do.”

  “It would seem so,” she said, noncommittal. Being selected in the top five did not a winner make, although she had to admit they were off to a great start.

  “Well, you two have to really get moving. Have you gotten the planting schedule and budget worked out? I don’t have to remind you that all of it is due to the committee by July 1. Will you be ready?”

  “Yes, we’re ready. I worked up the preliminaries for both budget and schedule for Will to review before he left for Tokyo.”

  “Will’s in Tokyo? Has he returned?” John asked.

  “Think so, I don’t know. I’ll promise to get with him and make sure we are on schedule, okay?”

  “All right. Have you talked to Thomas? You know you and I need to meet with him to make sure that we have enough equipment and volunteers. The major work should begin in September if we’re on schedule. You must give the volunteers time to plan it into their schedules.”

  “I know, John, I’ve been at this for a while now.”

  “I know I can always count on you, Katrina. I’m sorry to bother you, but you do know as head of the neighborhood gardening committee, I have to ensure that the winning tradition of Shining Creek continues.”

  “I know, and it will.”

  “You’re a gem, Katrina. I knew you wouldn’t let the neighborhood down. I must tell you that your parents would be really proud of the young lady you’ve become.”

  “Thanks, John. I appreciate that and I’ll talk to you soon,” she said, hanging up.

  She sat at her home desk. She hadn’t told John that Will had been due back a week ago, not that she was keeping tabs or anything. His house had been dark this week when she’d driven by. Maybe he’d had to stay longer. Good thing she’d given him her plans before he left. He hadn’t called since calling to make sure the plans had been dropped off. She had been professional, needing to squash his interest before it made her life miserable. It must have worked. He hadn’t called again; why did that make her sad?

  They were now heading into the first week of June. She’d give him until the middle of this week before calling.

  Bringing her mind back to the business at hand, she needed to check his design one final time to make sure the budget and planting schedule would work. Once they submitted it, there would be no going back. Plus, the city divvied up their monies based on the entrant’s projections, and if you were under, you were shit out of luck. So she and Will needed to accomplish two things—one, walk through the site again, reviewing the design; and, two, go to Uncle C’s and Colburn’s place to shore up Will’s plant selections and their pricing. She knew that they had the best prices in town, and she wanted to get the budget nailed down. The city was particular about the pricing when it had to fork over money. John was correct; they needed to get moving. July 1 would be here before they knew it.

  ***

  Will sat on the patio of his home looking over his backyard, legs stretched out, taking in the calm of the evening and the fresh air. It wasn’t quite dark out, and it was pretty cool for June. He had changed into shorts and a T-shirt, his feet bare, which was how he preferred them to be. He tried to calibrate his breathing to the sound of the chimes to release some of the stresses he’d accumulated from his trip and the firestorm at work that followed. He had ended up staying another week. He blew out another breath at that, still tired, still jet-lagged. Returning hadn’t been a picnic, either, as he’d been knee-deep in calming down clients. Finally, at the end of today, the end of a long month, things appeared to be looking up. Finally, he’d get to take a breather.

  Tomorrow was Saturday and, for once in a long time, it wasn’t taken up with work. He owed himself a trip somewhere to pay homage to his freedom, but he also needed to get to work on the gardening stuff. This was the reason his instincts had told him to say no initially.

  He’d taken the budget and planting schedule with him on his trip, managing to review both, and was impressed by Katrina’s attention to detail. He knew he needed to check in with her, see what was next on the gardening schedule, but her behavior since the backyard incident still bothered him. He’d hoped his desire for the body of one Katrina Jones would have slackened during his break from her. Nope. If anything, he was more interested.

  You could go see if she is home now. Where had that thought come from? But it had him standing up, walking to his back gate. He rarely exited from this entrance and hadn’t seen much of the greenbelt in a long while.

  He passed the Sheppards’. Their backyard was filled to capacity with all things children—swings, toys, goals, swimming pool
—enough for their large brood, six boys and one little girl. No way would he ever have seven children. They had that iron fencing, making their yard visible to him.

  He walked by Oscar and Lola’s yard, arriving at Katrina’s. She had the same fencing as the Sheppards, so you could see into it. He proceeded to her gate, opened it, and walked in.

  He stood there for a second, looking over her yard. It was his first time seeing it, taking in all her flowers; they were everywhere and in every shade and hue imaginable, filling the huge beds, leaving only a small amount of yard. Along with the flowers were flowering shrubs and rose bushes. It smelled wonderful. He was impressed by the sheer amount of work that was required to maintain this garden.

  A very large and very old oak tree stood sentinel in the yard. It could very well be sixty or seventy years old. He appreciated that about this town; they loved their trees and enacted large penalties for chopping them down. You could shoot your neighbor or beat your children as long as you were kind to trees. He appreciated the city’s firm desire to protect the earth. Her tree was huge and provided shade for her backyard, making it feel somewhat cooler. To the right, toward the back of her yard, stood a large shed painted in bright yellow, with what looked like butterflies in different colors painted on it. Pots in different sizes sat next to a potting bench near the shed and a small rainwater system.

  He continued walking until he reached the steps leading to her deck. As he placed his foot on the first step, her back door opened and out she stepped to greet him.

  “Doing a little wandering of your own, I see,” she said, walking over to stand at the top of the stairs, looking down at him.

  “One good turn deserves another, don’t you think?” he said, returning her look. She was predictably dressed in her large T-shirt and shorts, only it didn’t matter anymore, because he knew what was underneath, and that was all he saw whenever his eyes landed on her.

  She smiled, but not the full, dangerous, promising one that he’d come to love. She wasn’t his usual idea of beauty, but she had slowly, insidiously worked at changing his idea of what he wanted.

  “How was your trip?” she asked, breaking into his reverie.

  “Successful, but never-ending. I had to stay longer than I’d planned. Then work here was crazy, which is why I hadn’t come sooner to discuss the competition.”

  “I figured as much. In case you didn’t know, we were one of the five finalists selected. Congratulations, they liked your design.”

  “Thanks, and we’ll see. It’s not over yet,” he said, looking intently at her.

  “Did you have time to look over the budget and schedule?” she asked, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

  “Actually, I did, on the trip home. It all looks great.”

  “Thanks. Then you know we need to get moving. I was hoping I could drag you to the site to review it against your design. Would some time this week or next weekend work for you? John called, anxious after finding out that we’d been selected. He’s going to get in touch with the volunteers. He and I and Thomas are meeting to plan their schedules, to maximize their help. It’s full steam ahead now, no going back,” she said, in full-on professional mode.

  “Okay, this week at work should be easier than last.”

  “Are you sure you have time for this?” she asked.

  “I do. I’ll make time. Why don’t we meet this Friday night to review the site and then on Saturday morning we can drive over to a local garden center that I like, Abernathy and Co. Have you heard of them?”

  “Yes, they’re the best in town,” she said.

  “So it’s a date then? Friday night?”

  “What?” she said quickly, startled.

  “A date, you and me Friday night,” he said again, smiling at her startled expression and at the mix of interest and desire he’d seen in her eyes just for a second before she masked it.

  “I’m not sure that it would qualify as a date, but I’ll meet you,” she said, an odd look on her face.

  “A date it is; see you Friday night,” he said, turning and walking out the way he’d come. What had he been thinking? A date? But after he’d said it, it felt right. He wanted to see her again, and no more of that bullshit professional façade, either. At that moment, he’d instinctively decided that he wasn’t going to get pushed back. He was going to follow his initial decision after seeing her in his backyard and push for more.

  It had shifted, this need of his, becoming more than a desire for sex, although that held so much appeal. He wanted something different, wanted to know her better, and he suspected she wanted that, too.

  Nope, he wasn’t ready to quit just yet. She may have tripped him up a little with that new professional demeanor of hers, but he was beginning to see behind the many faces of Katrina; and was that fear he’d seen for a second in her eyes?

  CHAPTER 9

  Friday night arrived without much fanfare; work had been tolerable today. Katrina drove down her street, passing Will’s home. His garage door was open, and he was outside in his driveway talking to Oscar and Lola. Sydney was skipping around the adults. She pulled into her drive and wanted to kick Lola, who was now waving her arms above her head like a crazy person, motioning for her to come over and join them.

  Thanks, Lola. Hadn’t she recently told Lola that she’d kind of changed her mind about Will? But no, Lola had called her out. After all, what were friends for?

  She pulled into her garage, got out, and began walking down the sidewalk toward them. Will watched her, thinking, This is more like it. Her attire was much more suited to display her nice slim body. She was dressed for work in a form-fitting black skirt that ended just above her knees, accompanied by a plain black blouse. Medium-sized heels graced her feet, making her taller. Her hair was pulled back into a bun instead of its usual ponytail, and she wore small, dangly earrings. Her glasses were gone; contacts, he guessed. The attire didn’t do for him what her white workout clothes or the tiny white dress had done, but it was working its mojo nonetheless.

  “Hello, Katrina,” Will said, his long muscular body casual in shorts, a polo-style shirt clinging cozily to his upper body.

  “Hello, girlfriend,” Lola said, grabbing her arm and pulling her in closer to the group.

  “Hello, Oscar, Will,” Katrina said.

  “I was telling Oscar and Lola that we had a date tonight,” Will said, smiling, a teasing glint in his eye.

  Katrina gave him a you’re-not-nearly-as-funny-as-you-think-you-are look and said, “We are going for a tour of the gardens—for the competition.”

  “That’s no fun, is it, Oscar?” Lola said, looking at Katrina’s face as it strived for neutrality.

  “It’s not fun, it’s work,” Katrina said, looking directly at Will. “I need to change. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “See you guys later,” she said, walking away, giving him the back view, slim of hip with a very, very nice ass. His eyes followed her as she walked back to her garage, disappearing inside. It had been quiet during her walk back, and when he looked up, both Lola and Oscar were staring at him with teasing smiles on their faces.

  “What?” He hadn’t bothered to hide his appreciation. “She’s a very pretty girl when she’s not hiding herself, and I would have to be dead not to notice, especially in that outfit,” he said.

  “Whatever you say,” Oscar said, and he and Lola started laughing. Will joined them.

  True to her word, Katrina walked out of her home ten minutes later and headed for his. Lucky for her, the funny crew had dispersed. She walked up to his door and rang the doorbell. She’d changed into her normal at-home attire, ending his chance to see her body. Her copy of his design and her pad and pencil were tucked into her small backpack. He opened his door, giving her a smile.

  What was up with him? Seriously, didn’t he know she was backing off? She’d been nothing but professional, yet he didn’t appear to be taking her hints. He actually see
med to be really interested, his teasing more intense now. Whatever. She was sticking to her new approach toward him, keeping it strictly professional.

  “You’re on time, just as you promised.”

  “Yep,” she said. “You ready? I thought we could walk over.”

  “How about we take my bike?” he asked.

  “I don’t think we can both fit on your bike, unless you have a two-seater.”

  “No, I meant my motorcycle.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think so. No motorcycles for me, thank you very much,” she said, shaking her head. “Did you know that motorcyclists are more likely to die in accidents than those in automobiles? Or that approximately three-quarters of motorcycle accidents involve collisions with another vehicle, which is usually an automobile?” That popped out of her mouth before she caught it.

  Blinking in surprise, Will’s jaw dropped.

  “What?” he said.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly, her eyes shifting.

  “Where did that come from?” he asked, continuing to examine her as if she was a visitor from another planet.

  “I try to be aware of the risks associated with stuff is all,” she said.

  “Oh. Anything else you want to tell me that I should be worried about?” he asked. “Well, most motorcycle accidents occur because they aren’t recognized in heavy traffic or at night.”

  A laugh escaped, and she smiled back at him, finding the humor in it.

  “Really?” he said.

  “Did you know that in a typical accident, you only have less than two seconds to avoid a collision?”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” he said, watching her intently now. “The more salient question is how and why you know this?”

  “The web. Downloaded an app on my cell, one that cites facts, and I read,” she explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do. Noting his baffled expression, she added, “You are the one who should know those facts if you are going to ride.”