The Trouble with Joe

by Emilie Richards

  “You sure you don’t want to come to the hospital with me?” he asked, when he wanted to say, To hell with your sister’s place. Can I spend the night?

  “Of course I will. I was being silly. Come on, let’s put these in water.” She flicked her seat belt off and opened the door with no trouble now that she’d calmed down.

  He followed her into the house, watched her choose a vase from several in a kitchen cupboard, deftly trim the stems and arrange the spray of lilac blossoms. Their scent filled the kitchen as she worked, so heady he thought, I’ll never be able to smell lilacs again without thinking of Lucy. Of this moment.

  Lucy carried the bouquet to the car and let him buckle her seat belt. As they drove, with occasional streetlamps or headlights illuminating her face, Adrian asked, “Why do you think you’re nothing special to look at?”

  She was silent for a long time. He began to be sorry he’d asked. But at last Lucy said, “You know Samantha. And my other sister Melissa is a senior at WSU over in Pullman. They’re both way prettier than I am. They got the blue eyes and blond hair. And curls! I heard people sometimes say that one or the other was the pretty Peterson girl. It was never me.”

  She had tried very hard to sound matter-of-fact, as if knowing what people said about the Peterson sisters didn’t hurt her, not at all. But he also wondered if all this was in her head, because he couldn’t see it, not when he pictured the sister he did know.

  Adrian shook his head in disbelief. “Samantha’s pretty in that Barbie-doll way. But you... You’re classy.” He felt inarticulate, rare for him, an attorney skilled at riveting the attention of juries. Maybe he was better in the courtroom than in personal relationships. Usually he could tell a woman she was beautiful and that was all he had to say. But Lucy’s vulnerability made it important for him to get this right. “You have gorgeous skin and great cheekbones and a directness I hardly ever see. Maybe most of all, what you did for my mother makes you one in a million. I keep looking at you and thinking—”

  He stopped, not wanting to put this into words. His longing was too unformed. She had a capacity for caring greater than anyone he’d ever known. When she loved, it would be completely. He could depend on that love.

  He could trust her not to leave him.

  Jolted, Adrian hardly heard Lucy ask, “Thinking what?”

  That was what he believed deep inside? That no woman would love him enough to stay?

  Why not? some voice inside asked. If your own mother ditched you, how likely is it someone else will stick it out?

  He was usually the one to end relationships. The one who got bored. The one who couldn’t imagine waking to that woman’s face every morning for the next fifty years.

  Or had he made damn sure he never cared enough to be sliced to the bone when she left him?

  He pulled in to a parking spot at the hospital, set the emergency brake and turned his head to look at Lucy, who was watching him in puzzlement. Maybe, he thought, he just hadn’t met the right woman.

  Until now.

  Sure. How did he know any such thing? It was this damn town. His head had been spinning since he got here. He shouldn’t have canceled his appointments. A few days in Seattle would have given him some perspective. His mother didn’t need him. Either she was going to wake up or not. He was deluding himself to think it was his voice leading her out of the fog.

  Adrian also knew, looking at Lucy’s anxious face, that he was glad not to be leaving Middleton tomorrow. He had close to a week during which he could spend as much time as possible with Lucy, figure out what he felt and where it was going. He had the sudden, reckless realization that he had been as happy today as he could ever remember being.

  So to hell with perspective and distance. He’d grab what he could while he was here. Real life would intrude soon enough.

  “I keep thinking I’ve never met anyone like you,” he heard himself say. “And I want to figure out what makes you different.”

  “Hmm.” She grinned at him. “You know what they say about the way to a man’s heart.”

  “You can cook,” he agreed.

  “Wait’ll you taste my potato soup.”

  “I might never want to leave Middleton.”

  Her smile faded; it seemed as if her eyes became more shadowed. But she said, “Hey, you never know. Shall we go see your mom?”

  He agreed and they got out. Walking into the hospital, he had a strange feeling in his gut.

  Never leave Middleton? That had been a joke. Was a joke. But something told him it was different for Lucy. She flirted with the idea of leaving Middleton, but would she really?

  He found that he really wanted to know the answer to that question.

  * * *

  ADRIAN GLANCED UNEASILY around. “I know Middleton is old-fashioned, but, uh, did we just cross some space-time continuum?”

  It was the following Saturday night, and Lucy had taken a break to walk him out to his car after he had dinner at the café.

  Now she followed his gaze to the teenagers sashaying down the sidewalk and laughed. The girls wore poodle skirts and ponytails, and the boys had hair greased back.

  “Tonight’s the Spring Fling at the high school. I’m one waitress short because of it. Some of the kids must be grabbing a bite before they go on to the dance. The theme is always the Fifties. I don’t actually know why.”

  “Wasn’t there a high school in Middleton in the 1940s? What did they do then?”

  “Heaven knows. Maybe you should ask Elton.”

  He’d had lunch the other day with Elton Weatherby, Middleton’s one and only attorney. Elton had been alone at a table at her café when Adrian came in. He’d waved off Mabel, gone over to Elton and asked if he could join him. Lucy had started out of the kitchen when she first saw Adrian, and had been delighted to hear Elton say, “I hear you’re a colleague, young man. By all means! By all means, pull out a chair.” He’d swiveled in his chair. “Where’s that girl? I’ve already put in an order. Now, where in tarnation has she gotten herself to? If you haven’t tried the soups here, you really should.”

  “I’ve been having at least a meal a day here,” Adrian had said. “Lucy’s soups are damn good.”

  Smiling, she had gone back to the kitchen and left them to...what? Tell war stories? What did two attorneys discuss? Hateful judges and heroic courtroom stands? Did a corporate attorney ever make passionate pleas before a jury? She had no idea.

  She hadn’t actually thought to query him about what he and Elton had talked about, even though she had somehow spent quite a lot of time with Adrian that week, despite her work schedule. She’d joined him a couple of mornings for breakfast at Samantha’s. Sometimes when he came in to eat at the café, she took a break and sat with him for twenty minutes or half an hour. She’d gone to the hospital with him three mornings that week.

  And then there was last night, when he’d stopped by at closing and followed her car home. They had sat out on her porch glider in the dark and made out like a couple of teenagers. She’d flushed every time she thought about it today.

  She had found herself singing at odd moments all week. It felt so different, having somebody waiting when she closed the restaurant, or calling at bedtime to talk about their days, or choosing his seat in the café so he could see her whenever she popped out of the kitchen. Somebody who so plainly liked to touch her. Just the way he laid a hand on the small of her back to guide her on the sidewalk made her knees weak.

  What she was trying very, very hard not to think about was the fact that the week was drawing to a close. She knew he wasn’t planning to leave tomorrow, but what about Monday? Wouldn’t he have to go back to Seattle at some point? He hadn’t said, and of course that was partly because of his mother.

  It seemed that each day her coma became lighter. Ben Slater was coming by twice daily.
Adrian was spending much of his time at her bedside, reading to her and talking. His voice had become gravelly from overuse.

  Lucy would have loved to know what he was telling his mother. He had talked some to Lucy about the years after his mother disappeared, which sounded very sad to her. Despite his confusion and grief and buried anger, he had fallen in line with his father’s expectations rather than rebelling. Having been surrounded by nosy, affectionate relatives her entire life, she couldn’t imagine growing up in a household as silent as his had apparently been, and so lacking in love.

  As far as she was concerned, if he retained any ability to feel love himself, it was thanks to his mom. His father must have been a very cold man.

  “Oh, no! There’s Uncle Will and Aunt Lynn,” Lucy said now, out on the sidewalk. “You don’t want to meet them, do you?”

  “God, no!” Adrian said fervently, drawing her with him into the dark alcove of the doorway two businesses down from the café. Yvonne’s Needle & Thread closed at five every day, which Lucy sometimes envied. Mouth close to her ear, he asked, “How many aunts and uncles do you have?”

  “Oh...my mother has two sisters, both married. And Dad has a sister and a brother. That’s not too bad.”

  He drew back to stare at her, although she doubted he could make out her face. “Not too bad? Are you kidding? That’s...four aunts and four uncles. I don’t even want to know how many cousins you have.”

  “And lots of them have kids, so I have cousins once removed. You’re right,” Lucy said agreeably. “It’s horrible.” She rose on tiptoe and cast her arms around Adrian’s neck. “That’s why I have to lurk in dark corners to get kissed.”

  “Hard to get by with anything in this town,” he muttered, before bending his head to kiss her as requested.

  Her brain immediately became as mushy as her knees. Nobody had ever kissed her the way Adrian did. She wanted to believe it wasn’t just expertise, that there was some sort of magical connection between them, but the fact that he was really good at kissing sure didn’t hurt. And also, a hunger and urgency in the way he held her made her want very, very much to quit being cautious and ask him to spend the night.

  But, of course, Samantha might know he hadn’t returned to the bed-and-breakfast, and Sam did have a big mouth. Plus, Lucy already ached at the thought of him driving away from Middleton, even if he did promise to call. Right now, she was rather desperately holding at least some small part of herself back. If she made love with him, she was pretty sure the inevitable goodbye would be nearly unendurable.

  So she backed away when his hand slid up her side and covered her breast at the same moment as he nipped her lower lip with sharp need.

  “I’d better go back to work,” Lucy whispered. She was trembling as the cool evening air came between them.

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded shaken. “I forgot—”

  “It’s okay.” As lightly as she could manage, she said, “It was exciting, sneaking kisses out here with you.”

  “Can I come by tonight?” he asked with an urgency that stole what little breath she’d regained.

  She didn’t think she could resist him tonight. Her awareness that this week was almost over made her vulnerable.

  “I’m awfully tired tonight.” She sounded unconvincing to her own ears. “I really had better go back in.”

  He let her past, but said, “Breakfast?”

  “If I don’t sleep in.” As if she’d be able to sleep at all, thinking about him. Ready to walk away, she couldn’t. “Why don’t you come to my house instead? I’ll make brunch.”

  “Do you want to cook on your day off?”

  “I love to cook,” she said truthfully. “It’s fun just to please myself. Although I must warn you, my pastries probably aren’t as good as Sam’s.”

  His voice had relaxed, as if he’d been afraid she was rejecting him. “Her scones are amazing.”

  “I’ll make muffins,” she decided. “I froze some high bush huckleberries last year. And omelets. I can toss in anything.”

  “All right.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning. Nine? Ten?”

  “Make it ten. It’s not brunch if it’s too early.”

  He let her go, then, but she knew he was still standing by his car watching until she went back into the café.

  The moment she did, her aunt called to her. “Lucy, dear! Did I miss you outside? My goodness, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you for ages.”

  Lucy forced a smile and went to kiss the proffered cheeks. “Uncle Will. Aunt Lynn. How are you?”

  They told her, of course. Aunt Lynn was Lucy’s least favorite aunt. She had a delicate stomach, she always told everyone, and invariably complained after eating Lucy’s cooking that, my, she did use spices, didn’t she? “I do so much better when food is milder,” she would declare, as if everyone didn’t know that already and avoid her offerings at family potlucks.

  Lucy did like Uncle Will, however, who was a genial man who enjoyed working with his hands and who let his wife do the talking. A plumber, he had refused payment every time Lucy had had to call him. Once, he’d told her the payment in lunch that day was ample. She’d already had a particularly spicy chili simmering when her kitchen sink backed up.

  “I miss food with some taste,” he’d told Lucy rather wistfully, after his third bowl of chili.

  She would feel sorry for Uncle Will, except that she’d seen the way he looked at his wife sometimes, as if he was still madly in love with her. Obviously, he saw a different woman than the rest of the family did.

  When Lucy told them she had to get back to the kitchen, Aunt Lynn said, “You’ll be at Marian’s tomorrow, won’t you? We missed you last Sunday. Your sister promised to bring pecan pie, and I’m bringing apple.”

  With only the tiniest smidgen of cinnamon, she would be sure to mention proudly.

  Lucy forced a smile. “Yes, of course I’ll be there. Mom put me down for potato salad.”

  Uncle Will’s face brightened. Lucy’s potato salad did not taste like his wife’s.

  Why, Lucy wondered as she returned to the kitchen, did she have this instinctive desire to steer Adrian away from her family? Was she afraid they’d scare him away? Or was it simply that her parents would assume it meant something if she invited a man home to meet them? She didn’t know. All she was sure of was that she wanted to keep Adrian to herself. She was ashamed to realize she even hated having to share him with Sam.

  If they had brunch together in the morning, would he wonder why she didn’t invite him to her aunt and uncle’s for Sunday dinner later? They definitely were...well, not dating, but seeing each other. Which would make it natural for her to ask him. If their positions were reversed, she was afraid her feelings would be hurt.

  Of course, if she made an excuse and let him go to the hospital without her, maybe he’d never have to know.... Lucy grimaced. Uh-huh. Sure. Sam and her big mouth. It was a surprise she hadn’t already asked him. But then, not even Sam had any idea how much time Lucy was spending with him.

  But everyone in the family did know something was going on. Probably she’d make matters worse if she didn’t bring him, especially after she skipped last week’s Sunday dinner to spend the day with Adrian. Given that his mother had always been Lucy’s “project,” as the family liked to put it, they’d expect her to try to make him feel at home while he was in Middleton.

  In other words...she really didn’t have any choice. Not unless she wanted her nosier relatives to start speculating.

  So. She’d invite him, and if he didn’t make an excuse and not come, she’d be casual and friendly while they were there. Just like she always was. He wouldn’t kiss her in front of her parents and other assorted family members, and once they’d had the chance to really talk to him—read, grill him—they’d lose interest. He’d
merely be part of Lucy’s peculiar little project.

  It wouldn’t occur to a one of them that her heart was going to break when Adrian left Middleton for good.

  And she definitely wanted to keep it that way.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SUNDAY DINNER for this family was apparently a command performance. Pretty much everyone showed up, which made Lucy’s decision last week to skip it so that she could have him to lunch even more noteworthy. Adrian couldn’t imagine being closely related to so many people.

  Fortunately, the afternoon was sunny and Lucy’s aunt had set long tables out on the lawn. He didn’t like to think about being crammed into the downstairs of the modest two-story house with this crowd.

  Food hadn’t been served yet. Since they’d arrived, Lucy had been leading Adrian from group to group, introducing him to people whose names he wouldn’t remember the next time he came face-to-face with them.

  The latest cluster included Lucy’s mother and the same aunt who had descended on Lucy’s house that time he was over. Another woman of their generation was with them.

  “Have you met my aunt Lynn?” Lucy asked.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, holding out a hand. He’d seen her, though, he realized; she was the one he and Lucy had dodged on the dark sidewalk last night.

  “Lynn Rodgers,” she told him. “Lucy’s father is my big brother.”

  Aunt Marian, he seemed to recall, was Lucy’s mother’s sister instead.

  A gaggle of screeching children raced toward them, parting at the last second to pour around them. He winced and stepped closer to Lucy.

  “Are those all cousins?”

  A particularly shrill giggle rent the afternoon as the kids sprang up the porch steps and vanished inside the house.

  Lucy’s gaze had followed them. A frown puckered her forehead. “Mostly. I don’t know the redhead. Do I?”

  Aunt Lynn’s mouth pinched. “I believe Polly let her two both bring friends. I don’t know what she was thinking. And then allowing them to behave that way.”