Reclaiming Katie

by Gardner, M. L.

"A few days ago. And today he told me he loved me."

  Sarah's eyes flew open wide.

  "Whoa. That's fast. And you're okay with all this?"

  Katie shrugged. "It feels right. I keep thinking I'm crazy, but I've never been happier."

  "Then why are you frowning?"

  "It's silly."

  "There's just something I feel like Will is hiding from me."

  "What is it?"

  "That's just the thing. I don't know. But I know there's something I don't know."

  "Have you asked him?"

  "Asked him what?" Katie laughed. "Gee, Will, I feel like there’s something I don't know about you, why don't you tell me what it is, even though I don't know what it is, specifically."

  "You don't think it's something bad, do you?"

  "No. Not bad, it's just…there has been this car following him the last few days. I figured it was Anna Stockard, but he insisted it wasn't. But it really seemed to bother him."

  "Yeah, it would any normal person."

  Katie searched for something to say, hoping to clarify feelings she couldn't describe. She came up blank.

  "If you didn't have dinner with him, then what did you do all day?" She reached out and gave her sister a teasing pinch.

  "We went to do some research on the woman that wrote that journal I found."

  "Come up with anything?"

  "We did. Sort of." Katie filled her in on the morbid details and the mystery that still remained.

  "I never did like that garage." Sarah said.

  "Oh, come on! You never said a word about that garage before. Don't be a baby."

  "So, research all day, huh?"

  "Well, no. That led us to check out the attic of the house."

  "Creepy."

  "Not at all. Don't say a word to anyone, okay? But I found a virtual treasure trove of antiques up there. And then, we went and found a decent store front."

  "A store front for what?"

  "For me to open my own antique store."

  Sarah grabbed her hand. "Katie that's a great idea! The only other one on Main Street deals with sixties and seventies crap. They don't have anything really, really old."

  "Well, I do." She grinned. "Soon as I get the house fixed and sold, I can open up shop. There's even a back room I can make for Jacob so I can take him to work every day."

  "I'm so happy for you, Katie. And to end the day, you're cleared of murder. Chalk this one down as productive."

  Sarah tilted her head to the side. "What's wrong?"

  "I'm just tired."

  "Well, you have to stay up just a little longer. I want more details. When, exactly, did he say he loved you?"

  Katie rolled her eyes. "Boy, this brings back memories."

  "What? Me sneaking into your room at night during high school so you could tell me all about your exciting life? C'mon, we haven't done this in years. Where were you when he said it? How did he say it? Did he kiss you before or after he said it? Oh! Oh! Did you say it back?"

  "How can I tell you what happened if you don't stop talking long enough for me to speak?"

  "Sorry." She pulled herself into a tight ball and clamped her lips shut.

  "You are so silly, Sarah."

  Katie spent every minute of the next morning with Jacob, with the exception of calling to inquire about leasing the store space. Wanting to keep that a secret, she waited until Jacob was down for his morning nap and took the phone out on the back porch. Other than that, she doted on him and wouldn't let her mother feed or change him and pouted when it was time to leave.

  "I just feel so guilty," she said as she handed him to her mother.

  "Don't. You are no different than any other working mother. You have to go fix up this house to sell it. Then you have to figure out what you're going to do after that. You're working on your future, Katie."

  She nodded and kissed Jacob again. He babbled and waved his slobbery fist around, bonking Vicky in the face. She wanted to tell her mother about her plans, but even more than that, she wanted to surprise her. She'd already envisioned taking her and Jacob for frozen yogurt and then strolling next door and showing her what she had accomplished.

  "Go. I'll see you tonight."

  She got to the house before Will and waited in her car. It was only when she wasn't with him, that it bothered her. And it didn't so much bother her, it was more of a nagging feeling. And it disappeared, as it always did, when Will parked his truck and slid out of the seat, grinning when he saw her.

  She walked right into his arms; to hell with whoever might be watching. His dog jumped from the back of the truck and came bounding up to her, demanding attention. She had no choice but to pull away from Will and bend down and pet her.

  "I wasn't sure exactly where we were going to start today, but I brought tools for just about any job."

  "The living room, I think." Parlor, she thought to herself. That's what they called it in Samantha Emery's time.

  They walked in and the dog ran from room to room, investigating.

  "We need to tear down the trim all around the doors, windows and floors. It's cheap and not original. We can replace it later. After all the trim is down, we need to patch holes. Then we can primer and paint. Replace the trim, maybe some wallpaper and it will look wonderful."

  "What about the floors?"

  "Simple sanding and refinishing."

  "We can have this room done in a week, if we work hard." He handed her a pry bar. "You can start popping off that trim, if you'd like." He winked at her. She saw that he wore a A-line shirt under his flannel and prayed it would get hot today. Scorching hot. As if in answer, a few lingering clouds parted and sunlight flooded through the living room window. She glanced at the ceiling.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  "We're going to have to move all this furniture out of here," Will said. "Can we store it in the…" He stopped and looked at her.

  "The garage?" she asked and laughed at his expression. "I forgot, you believe in ghosts."

  "I don't believe in them, exactly. I just leave room for the possibility of their existence."

  She shook her head and moved to one end of the couch.

  "Can you get that?"

  "I helped move it in here, I can help move it out."

  He bent down and effortlessly lifted his end. "If it gets too heavy, let me know."

  "Will, I'm not as weak as you think I am."

  Close to the garage, Katie started losing her grip on the couch. "Stop! Stop!" Her end came crashing down on the ground with a thud and he grinned at her.

  "My hand slipped is all." She bit her lip and shook it. The leg of the couch had left a deep, angry red score across her palm.

  "Let me see." He lifted it, touched the red mark and flexed her fingers. Then he bent and kissed it. "All better."

  He managed to push the couch the rest of the way inside the garage. The dog followed just to the threshold and then stopped, bared her teeth and growled, low and fierce. Will looked all around him. Katie's eyes fixed on something in the corner of the room near the shelves.

  "Do you think she sees something?" Katie whispered.

  Will had gone quite white and looked up at the cross beam that Mr. Emery likely hung himself from. He took three large steps toward the door, nearly bowling Katie over and grabbed her to keep from losing his balance. She laughed hysterically at him.

  When she could speak, she held her aching side. "There was a wild rabbit near the shelves, Will. That's what she was growling at."

  He looked back, and dared to step forward. A brown and white rabbit shot out the door and took off down the road. The dog chased it for about twenty feet but quickly gave up and came back to sit down near where Will rested on the ground.

  Katie was still giggling off and on. The dog turned its head slowly. Again she bared her teeth and growled. Will and Katie locked eyes. The scruff on the back of her neck went up and she lowered her head, taking careful steps backward.

  "Another rab
bit?" Will asked.

  "Let's not find out," Katie said and scrambled to her feet.

  They slammed the front door shut and Katie nearly started laughing again. "As if closing the door would keep a ghost out."

  "Well, it makes me feel better. Why don't you believe in them anyway? Or at least leave room for them."

  She shrugged. "Santa Clause trauma, I suppose."

  "Excuse me?"

  "When I was little, I stopped believing in anything I couldn't see. Like Santa Claus. And ghosts."

  "I see. Well, what about us?"

  "I can see us."

  He walked slowly toward her and she loved the look in his eyes. Like a hunter.

  "You can't see how I feel about you. And yet you believe it."

  "But I can see it," she countered. "I see it in your eyes and the way you look at me, and—" He was close to her now, close enough to smell. He took her by the waist and closed the gap. "And when you kiss me," she finished weakly.

  He did then, as if to prove a point. After a slow but volatile kiss, he smiled. "And how you feel right now, can you see that?"

  "I don't know, you might need to do it again." He grinned, and obliged.

  They worked steadily, and hard for a few hours, not making much more than small talk. It had taken considerable effort to break away from each other and to get too deep in conversation, or stand too closely to each other, would risk another round of fireworks they might not be able to extinguish. With a pile of broken trim in the middle of the room, they stopped for a drink of water.

  "What now?" she asked, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. The mid afternoon sun was bearing down now and she thought to dig a fan out of the closet and set it up near where they worked.

  He finished a glass of water, set it down and began unbuttoning his shirt. He peeled it off gracefully and Katie swallowed hard. He was so beautifully made she could hardly take her eyes off him. "We can begin patching cracks and holes, I think. That shouldn't take that long."

  "And then?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly and feeling self-conscious for it.

  "That might be good for today. We could get dinner after that, if you'd like?"

  She wondered just how she would get through dinner without attacking him. He'd promised no wine and she wouldn't be spending the night…it seemed terribly unromantic to ravage each other and then for her to have to get up and leave…no, she didn't want it to happen like that. He couldn't see her blush with her cheeks heat flushed as they were. That was a good thing. She hadn't thought about sex so much in…ever. And while waiting for the inevitable was torture, she still reveled in the anticipation. She'd never had that. She and Tom had dated for less than a week, decided they wanted to have sex and so they did. In his truck, no less. No planning, forethought or romance. Just a freight train of hormones colliding. It wasn't…special.

  She looked up and found Will leaning casually against the counter, staring at her. She smiled shyly and looked back down, wondering if he wasn't thinking about the same thing. Waiting was glorious torture.

  Chapter 27

  He taught her how to patch walls and fill in cracks. She liked it. Concentrating on scraping the filler over the wire mesh and being somewhat obsessive about leaving no lines kept her mind busy.

  "We can sand that down later," he said as he passed, watching her meticulously scrape the edges this way and that, trying to make them disappear.

  They stood back and surveyed their work. The room looked worse than it did when they walked in, but it was a work in progress. Only the fireplace shone brightly; around it, four green walls dotted with white and a large pile of trash in the center.

  "I'm starving," he said, rubbing his hand over the long, lean plane of his stomach. Her eyes traveled up and to his shoulders.

  "Me, too," she said, thinking little of food.

  She followed him to his cabin and reminded herself that she was going home tonight. So stop thinking about it, already!

  Worries began to creep up from the recesses of her mind, as they always did when she was more than ten feet away from Will.

  She swatted them away one by one and reminded herself that she was in control now. And she had a damn good life plan for the first time.

  Inside, he offered her lemonade and she asked for ice water. It was humid and she wasn't used to this level of physical activity. He stopped to change Daisy’s water and fill her food bowl.

  "What would you like for dinner?" he asked, standing by the refrigerator, staring at a dozen take out menu's.

  "Anything is fine."

  "Chinese?"

  "They have a Chinese place here?"

  "Just opened up a few weeks ago. They have a chain in Michigan where I grew up. Really good food. I was happy they opened up here."

  "Sure, sounds great."

  He picked up the phone, ordered and then led her out to the deck. There was a new addition to the patio set and master grill. A very comfortable looking porch swing with a wide cover for shade.

  She sighed deeply as she sat back into the cushions. He sat beside her, laying one arm across the length of the swing, behind her head.

  "When did you get this?"

  "Yesterday morning after I got back."

  "Ah. Did you have fun on your trip?"

  "It was more business than fun."

  "Business?"

  "I had to go back to Michigan to settle some things. Remember we're still dealing with some things from my parents passing."

  "Oh. I thought you meant emotionally."

  "Well, that too. But there's other stuff. Little financial matters that we have to see to. Old bills and claims and such."

  "How's your sister?"

  "Better. I think her and her husband have pulled back from the brink of divorce."

  "That's good. How did they get there if you don't mind me asking?"

  "No, I don't mind. When our parents died, it changed a lot of things for us. It was too much for them to handle at first. There was so much pressure on them financially that they started to crack under the strain."

  "What was your childhood like?" She rolled her head over to look at him.

  "Pretty average, I suppose. Lots of hard work. Not a lot of time to get into too much trouble."

  "Were you close to your parents?"

  "I think so. They were all about hard work. I was mowing lawns at ten, fixing chicken coups at twelve. My dad always made me save half the money I made. I hated it, but when I turned seventeen, I had enough to buy my own truck." He gestured to the old blue beast in the driveway.

  "That's the truck you bought at seventeen?"

  "Yep. Still have it."

  "So, between chicken coups and old trucks, when did you get into fine wine?"

  "Oh, that's from my parents, too. That was their one indulgence. After a long day’s work, they’d sit on the porch with a bottle of wine and talk. My dad always wanted to own a vineyard and make his own, but he never got around to it."

  "Is that something you want to do? Have your own vineyard?"

  "It would be nice, but I'm not willing to move to an area that would be good for growing."

  "Why not."

  He picked up a piece of her hair and let it glide through his fingers. "I found a reason to stay here."

  "I feel like I'm keeping you from your own work here."

  "Nah. I've got time to do what I want to do."

  "Didn't you want to plant something this year?"

  "I'll do it next year," he said softly, nonchalantly.

  "You are such a mystery sometimes, Will Anderson."

  "How so? I'm an open book. Ask me anything."

  "What plans do you have for this place?"

  "Fix it up. Add on a few rooms. Fill it with kids."

  "You want a lot of kids?"

  "Yeah, why not."

  "I don't know, I guess I just thought…"

  "Growing up it was just me and my sister. That was fine when we were little, but when we got older we sort of grew
apart. Nothing bad, it's just I was interested in guy things and she was into boys and make up and we didn't really have anyone to confide in. I figure I want at least two of each. So they always have someone."

  "What if they don't get along? Me and my sister didn't always, you know. At one time, I thought she was the most annoying thing in the world, always following me around, asking to come along with me and my friends."

  "She idolized you."

  "Well, I see that now. But at the time, I could be pretty mean to her."

  "But you're alright now, right? You get along fine?"

  "Yes. I love her to pieces."

  "Well, there's my point. They'll get along, don't worry. But maybe three of each, just to be safe."

  "Three of each?" Her eyes bulged with a wide grin. "Good heavens, you do love kids."

  "If I didn't, I wouldn't be with a woman who has one."

  The reality that she was a package deal had weighed heavily on her. It was something they'd never talked about before. And it was easy to forget, at times. But there it was, out in the open and she was relieved to see he was so comfortable with it.

  "I'm looking forward to getting all this work done. I thought we could take Jacob camping at the end of the summer."

  "I think he'd like that." She slipped her hand into his and he gave it a squeeze. There was a knock on the door and Will jumped up.

  "Dinner's here."

  He returned with two bags and began laying food out on the patio table. A cool, refreshing breeze had picked up and it made Katie sleepy.

  They ate like fiends for several minutes, not saying a word to each other. With their growling stomachs somewhat satisfied, Katie looked up and asked, "So, same time tomorrow?"

  He nodded. "I think I'll go get the primer and paint in the morning. Have any colors in mind?"

  "I thought just an eggshell white. The new owners might want to choose their own colors."

  "Okay. Sounds good. If we work tomorrow and Friday, we should have it done and we can start on the next room. Whichever one you want."

  "I can't on Friday. I'm helping my mother get ready for a dinner party Saturday. She and the Judge are going to announce their love to both sides of the family and I promised I'd pitch in."

  "If you need any help, let me know."