by May Williams
Colette caught the renegade Chihuahua and tucked him under her arm. Behind her, the water faucet squeaked closed and the flood ended. She had a bead on Trigger who now stood isolated in a corner of the waiting room, his sides quivering. Colette approached him slowly, speaking in a low soothing tone. Just as she thought she could get him, Pancho wiggled from beneath her arm, used her side as a springboard, and knocked over Fluffy’s cage. The white and brown spotted bunny panicked at the sight of Trigger and leaped to the safety of the receptionist’s desk, spilling coffee and knocking over a display of pet food.
A cascade of animal food and treats littered the floor while a crew of animals raced forward to pick over the windfall. By the time most of the animals were leashed or contained, Colette’s ponytail holder had disappeared completely, leaving her hair hanging loose down her back. Her phone’s persistent jingle sang again and she waved a dismissive hand at it while sitting on the floor and running her fingers calmingly down Fluffy’s long ears.
“I’m answering your phone, Collie. I’m tired of listening to it ring.” Her mother marched into Colette’s office to retrieve the phone.
“Don’t bother, Mom, it’s probably just a….”
“Hello? Yes, this is Colette’s phone, but she’s busy with a rabbit right now. Can I help you? I’m her mother.” Her mother walked back into the hall where she could see Colette and listened for a minute. Colette cringed on the inside. She hadn’t mentioned Ian in her recounting of the weekend. What if it was him calling? “You did? Oh, thank you. We love the cottage as well.” Her mother cast a glance at her that said you are so busted, young lady. Colette felt like the time she got caught sneaking back into the house when she was thirteen. Of course, then she’d hidden in the barn to watch a cow give birth. Now, she was in a lot more trouble. “No, Colette didn’t mention Mrs. Connelly’s runaway dog…oh, I see…would you like to talk to her? I think she’s got Fluffy calmed down now.” Colette’s fingers still smoothed along Fluffy’s side, but out of reflex more than anything else. “It’s Ian, dear.” Her mother handed her the phone with one eyebrow cocked almost to her hairline.
“Hi, Ian,” Colette said into the phone quietly so the entire clinic didn’t hear. “Sorry I didn’t answer your calls earlier, but it’s been a little crazy.” She handed the rabbit back to its owner, got to her feet, and walked to her office.
“I hope Fluffy is some kind of animal,” she heard the teasing note in his voice.
“He’s an anxious pet rabbit. We’ve just had a little incident in the waiting room, but everything’s under control now.” She closed her door and sank into her desk chair.
“Good, because I was hoping you were free to have dinner with me tonight.”
“Tonight? I don’t know…I…”
“Do you have plans?” he asked, a little disappointment in his voice. “I can be flexible on the when, but I want to see you again…soon.”
Playing with the squeeze ball on her desk, she tipped back in her chair and tried to relax, remembering that she enjoyed his company and had already agreed to a date. “Okay, but it can’t be a late night,” she said, setting her reluctance aside. “I have to be in early tomorrow. Why don’t you meet me at Eileen’s Bistro on the corner of Rose and Bay at seven?”
Having made the plans, she disconnected and stalled a few minutes before going out to face her mother. Fortunately, a roomful of patients waited for her while her father was performing surgery. The string of animals should keep her occupied until at least lunch, which meant her mother would have no time to butt in. In the next hour and a half, Colette vaccinated two dogs, examined a guinea pig with a nervous tick, took blood from two cats, and successfully dodged her mother. But, at high noon, when the waiting room was empty and only clumps of fur remained, her mother cornered her.
“So let me get this straight,” Jade Peterson began with a dramatic flip of her dark brown hair. In looks, Colette’s mother, with her olive skin and dark eyes and hair, looked nothing like Colette, who was a Daddy’s girl in every way. “Ian spent the night at the cottage?”
“Uh-huh. He was chasing Semper and missed the last ferry. I tried to find him a place to sleep on the island, but no one could take him.” They entered the break room at the back of the clinic. “The only decent thing to do was to let him stay at the cottage.” She defended her actions.
“I suppose you had dinner.”
“I wasn’t going to let him starve.” Colette grabbed a diet soda out of the fridge while her mother unwrapped sandwiches sent over earlier from her elder daughter’s café, Hemingway’s Haunt. “I cooked dinner, we drank a little wine, he took a ton of pictures, and that was that.”
“Pictures? Of you?” Jade shrieked.
“Of everything. He’s a photographer.”
“Who’s a photographer?” Lexy flung open the exterior door and flew in. Colette’s older sister never stopped moving. She whirled in a constant spin, which created chaos nearly everywhere. In a kitchen, it created magic.
“The man who spent the night at the cottage with Collie.”
“What?” Lexy ducked down to plant a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “About time.”
“What are you doing here in the middle of the day?” Colette growled at her sister over a roast beef sandwich.
“I came to apologize about Jamie. Nate called me after he picked him up a little while ago. I don’t know what I’m going to do with the boy.”
“Lots of exercise might help,” Colette suggested.
“He never stops moving as it is,” Lexy said about her middle child.
“Can’t imagine where he gets that.” Jade grabbed her eldest daughter and yanked her to a sitting position on the bench beside her. “Don’t worry about Jamie. He’ll be fine in fifteen years. We need to know about this man.” She pinned Colette with her dark eyes. “‘Fess up!”
“Who is he a photographer for?” Her sister asked.
“Freelance, I think.”
“Umm. That translates to unemployed in most circles.”
“He’s not unemployed. He’s working for one of the resorts in Boyne taking photos and building a website.”
“Websites!” Jade and Lexy said together, their expressions wordlessly critical.
“And he plans to open a studio of his own soon,” Colette said, feeling defensive.
“Where?” Lexy demanded.
Colette chewed a piece of beef and reviewed her conversations with Ian. “He never said where. He’s just out of the army. Maybe he hasn’t decided yet.”
“Unemployed and homeless ex-soldier.” Lexy broke off a piece of bread from her mother’s sandwich and popped it in her mouth. “Did he have a nice car at least?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t notice what he drove.” Colette tried to bring up her last glimpse of Ian in the parking lot, but all she could see was his green sweatshirt and smoky expression. The car was a dark blur behind him.
“Balding, round like Friar Tuck, past a certain age?” Lexy badgered her.
“Lexy,” Jade said, “maybe he’s a perfectly nice—”
“No,” Colette responded to her sister. ”I think he’s what they call Army Strong.”
“Well! At least, he’s got a good body.” Lexy stole some chips from her mother’s bag and flashed her sister a grin that was pure dare. “That can work for a while in a relationship.”
“He had thousands of dollars in camera equipment if that means anything to you. He’s not a bum.” Colette took a huge gulp of soda, crushed the can on the table and tossed it into the recycling bin. “Shit. I don’t know anything about him. What if he is a bum?” She looked appealingly at the two women who sat across from her.
“Do your instincts say bum, dear?” Her mother asked, showing more sympathy now.
“No, but my instincts suck when it comes to men. I’m a bum magnet, you know that,” she whined and slumped her head down on the table. “Damn, I agreed to have dinner with him tonight.” Her mother stroked her hair as sh
e fought down the memory of her last disastrous relationship with the conniving Tyler. “Why can’t men be like dogs? Dogs are easy. I always understand them.”
“They pee on your flowers though. Men, generally, don’t, although Jamie…”
“It’s only dinner,” Jade interrupted. “Maybe you can get him talking about himself and his plans.”
“Shouldn’t be hard,” Lexy pointed out. “Men like to talk about themselves. Where are you going?”
“Eileen’s,” Colette moaned, not lifting her head.
Her sister let out a low whistle. “Romantic. And she’s got a great wine cellar. Pour a bottle of Merlot in him and you should learn everything you need to know.”
“We drank wine at the cottage. I didn’t notice any effect.”
“Isolated cottage, wine, dinner. What else, Collie? Candles, firelight?”
“Yes,” Colette admitted in a small voice, “but nothing happened.”
“Nothing, but a whole bunch of romance.” Lexy sighed. “Romance disappeared somewhere between the second and third child.”
“It comes back.” Jade patted her elder daughter’s hand. “Collie, we’ve got a full schedule this afternoon. If you’re going to have time to clean up for your date, we better start seeing patients.”
“I can’t go on a date with him. I don’t even know him.” The panic rose in Colette’s throat.
“You should go.” Jade reached across the table and squeezed Colette’s arm. “Are you meeting him there?”
“Yeah.” Colette lifted her head from the table and met her mother’s eyes. Her mother’s steady gaze helped her regain her self-control.
“Smart girl. Now, both of you, go back to work.” With a wave, the elder Peterson dismissed her daughters.
Colette hustled around the last corner on her way to Eileen’s at exactly seven that evening. She glimpsed the sparkling waters of Little Traverse Bay between the downtown buildings, enjoying how the water danced with the light breeze, jumping up in little splashes—like what her heart was doing. She wanted to see Ian, wanted to spend more than one summer evening with him, but she needed answers to some questions.
Questions and answers she should have considered on the island, but she got distracted— easily distracted—by him. A situation that wasn’t going to change, she realized, when she saw him standing outside the restaurant. His khaki pants and open-collared blue shirt were crisp, new, and seemingly designed to enhance his physique. She hoped the green sun dress and kitten heels she’d chosen did the same for her, since she’d agonized more over her outfit for tonight than she had since her senior prom.
With his attention focused on a slice of bay through the buildings, he hadn’t noticed her yet. His fingers rubbed together like he was itching to have his camera in his hands to capture the brilliant blue water and the golden light. A sudden breeze caught her hair, blowing it across her face. When she’d tamed it behind her shoulders, she felt his gaze on her face. He had an intensity about him that she’d never seen in anyone else. It was as though he absorbed every detail simultaneously. ++
She smiled despite the scrutiny. Maybe she could make this a friendly conversation versus the FBI style interrogation she’d planned in her head throughout the afternoon.
“Hi,” she said, quaking a little under his gaze. “Am I late?”
“Nope. Right on time.” His eyes dropped down her figure and she held her breath. What was he thinking? He took her hand, stroking his thumb over its back. “You look beautiful,” he whispered and leaned closer, brushing his lips against her cheek.
Disappointment was her first emotion. She wanted a kiss like they’d shared on the ferry, but perhaps he was just being considerate. They were on a street in her hometown. Either way, it was a good reminder to keep a little distance between them. For now.
“Ready to eat?” he asked.
“Always. Lead on.”
Inside the restaurant, the hostess took them to a corner booth, isolated and romantic with a little spray of roses waiting on the table. She slid around the booth, putting her purse and shawl between them on the seat. Distance, she reminded herself. Questions needed to be answered.
“I hear the wine cellar here is very good. What do you like? A Michigan wine?”
“Whatever you’re having,” she responded, studying him in the dim light of the restaurant. He sure didn’t look like a man who would cause her heartache and trouble. When he ordered a local Merlot after listening to the advice of the waiter, her sister’s plan came back into her mind. She’d get him to talk about himself over the wine and learn what she needed to know. If, by the end of dinner, she decided he was a bum, she could walk away.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“Thinking,” she admitted.
“About me, I hope.” He gave her a smile that she had a hard time not returning.
“About how little I know you,” she said, keeping her voice low and serious.
His face didn’t register any surprise, but instead a hint of nerves. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about your studio. Where will it be?”
“Haven’t decided,” he said, breaking off a chunk of the crusty bread the waiter placed on the table and offering it to her. “Everything I do is digital so I can work from anywhere and travel when I need to so the place doesn’t matter much.”
She took the bread he held out to her. When his fingers lingered on hers for an extra second, she almost lost focus with her questioning. Holding hands and pretending logistics didn’t matter had more appeal than playing cop, but she’d never relax if she didn’t ask.
“Is Michigan a possibility for your home base?”
“It works for now. I’ve got the job in Boyne and some interviews—“ He stopped speaking when the waiter returned with the wine.
Colette wanted to ask about these interviews, but waited until Ian sampled the wine, approved it, and their glasses were filled with the red liquid. “Are you writing an article?” she asked as soon as the waiter walked away.
“Not exactly,” he toyed with the stem of his wine glass, his eyes cast down.
She reached for his other hand that lay on the seat between them, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What is it?”
He met her gaze, a half-smile on his lips. “I’ve been traveling the country for the past few months taking pictures and doing interviews for a book project.”
“What kind of book?” Writing a book seemed a monumental task to her. Not the kind of thing bums do.
“It’s still really early…I’m not sure….”
She suddenly felt guilty for pushing him. Whatever it was, it was important to him, but he didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. We can drink wine and talk about movies or music. What’s your pick?”
He shook his head like he was shaking off a bad feeling, but didn’t let her withdraw her hand when she tried to. “No, I want to tell you. The book’s in raw stages right now, but I’m documenting the lives of soldiers returning from Iraq or Afghanistan as they rejoin civilian life. I was photographing and interviewing three brothers in the Upper Peninsula when I heard about the beauty of Grand Island and decided to visit.”
“So the job in Boyne?” she questioned.
“Helps pay the bills while I travel.”
He shifted nervously in his seat, and she felt like there was something he kept from her. No shame in writing a book, especially one about veterans; maybe it was the finances? He was pouring time, money, and apparently his soul into this project. What if he didn’t have enough of those left to start a relationship with her?
“I started taking pictures,” he began when she was just about to change the subject, “as soon as I got state-side from my second tour. I’ve traveled up and down the East Coast over the past several months interviewing and photographing veterans.”
“Are you going for a major publisher?” She asked, now that he was talking again.
“Yeah, but I�
�m also trying to get the support of the Veteran’s Administration. I want this to be real, to have some teeth. I want people to see how hard it is to pick up,” he stopped, taking a breath and looking away, “an interrupted life.”
She tightened her fingers around his, letting the pressure of her hand convey the sympathy she didn’t have the words to express. After a moment, he faced her, his expression relaxing slightly.
“It’s not what you think,” he said. “I didn’t leave behind a girl or a career. I went into the army with my eyes wide open, knowing that I’d be overseas in a year and I was. I dropped out of college to enlist because it was the right thing to do at the time.”
She calculated back to when he would have been a student and took a guess. “September 11th?”
He nodded. “I waited until the semester ended at Christmas, then I took the oath and shipped off to basic in January.” A sharpness in his voice replaced the serious determination of when he spoke about his book. It wasn’t regret, but something else. Something she couldn’t identify beyond that it hurt him.
“My father,” he started, “my father didn’t support my choice. We’ve hardly spoken to each other since.”
“Oh.” She blinked back her instant tears. She couldn’t go a day without the love of her family. She couldn’t imagine living without it for years. “He’s opposed to the military?” She suggested.
“No,” Ian sighed, “he’s a veteran himself. It’s never made any sense to me.”
“My dad was in Vietnam, too. He doesn’t say much about it, but I think it bothers him,” she said gently. “Maybe your father didn’t want you to see what he saw.”
“Maybe, but wrong war. Mine served in World War II. He’s…older.”
Colette gasped in surprise and her hands flew to her face. Ian truly smiled for the first time in several minutes, even chuckled softly.
“My grandfather was in France,” she said, “I already told you about that. Where was your father during the war?”
“He was at Normandy, then across France.” He re-captured her hand, lacing their fingers together.
