When he gets up to get his third beer in less than fifteen minutes, I can tell he’s in no mood for talking. I can understand why, so I make the switch to water so I can drive him home later.
Having to bury your wife somehow earns you the right to get shit-faced. His world flipped upside down since Becca died right after Christmas.
For starters, Becca’s estranged son came home after not seeing her for years. They made amends just before she died. I know that’s something Joe’s happy with; he wanted to see Becca lay those grudges to rest before she died.
All that shit—pain and sorrow—honestly, they’re too much for me to deal with. No one understands it. I mean there’s nothing to understand. Nothing about watching someone you tried to save die anyway, makes any sense.
With this thought in mind, I lean back in my chair and watch the puck glide effortlessly over the ice.
“Katie all settled?” I ask when a commercial interrupts the tied game.
Joe scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah. I think so. I mean I heard from her the other day, after we moved her in. She seems okay.”
There’s another shit storm, another perfect example of why getting married was never something that seemed all that tempting to me. Something about a bipolar-turned-junkie, sleeping around on you with other addicts, who hit on your ten-year-old daughter, just doesn’t scream “happily ever after” to me.
“That’s good. Is she still coming home this weekend for your birthday?” We just helped her get settled into her dorm last weekend, so I’m not sure she’s already planning on coming home so soon.
“Not sure. I didn’t make a big deal out of it. She just got back so I didn’t want to stress her out with my birthday.” Mental note: call Katie and get her home so Joe doesn’t have to spend his first birthday without Becca completely alone.
Joe and I spend the next hour or so watching the end of the game and I drive him home around nine.
Parking in the spot labeled 2B, I scrub my hand over my face and stare out into the black sky before getting out of my truck.
“Some fucking life,” I huff flippantly, before getting out and walking up to the condo where no one is waiting for me.
Since I don’t own much, it doesn’t take me long to unpack. Not surprisingly, most of the stuff is for the kitchen anyway. Just as I’m crushing up the last box, the phone rings.
“Hey, Katie.”
“Hey, Uncle Ev. I got your message last night. Of course, I’m coming home for Dad’s birthday. Where else would I be?” Her chipper voice brightens my otherwise dull day.
I shrug my shoulders, even though I know she can’t see me. “That’s good. I think your dad could use the company.”
So could I, too.
“Cool. I have class until eleven this morning, and then I’ll come to your place. I got you a house-warming gift.”
“You didn’t have to, Katie. But that sounds good. I’ll see you around three then. We’ll go pick up something for dinner and surprise him. Sound okay?”
“Sounds great.” Just as I’m about to say goodbye, she stutters over her words, sounding like she’s searching for the right thing to say. “Umm . . . Uncle Evan . . . I just . . .”
“What’s the matter, Katie? Is everything okay?” As much as I know she wants to be away on her own and experience college and all that, I can’t say I don’t worry about her. And right now, she sounds like something is really wrong.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I hear her take a deep breath through the line. I can tell something is bothering her. She’s always been my little girl, the daughter I never had, and I hate to hear her upset.
“Then what is it?”
“I just wanted to say thank you; that’s all,” she says quickly, sounding like she’s afraid to let her emotions get the best of her.
“For what?”
“Everything. Helping me move in. Moving from the city to be by Dad, taking care of him. For just being you, I guess.” Her voice is quiet and soft.
“I’m just doing what’s right, Katie.” That’s all I’ve ever tried to do and I smile knowing that it’s appreciated.
“I know. And I just wanted to say thank you for it. It’ll be good for Dad, having you around now.”
“I hope so. I’ll talk to you later, then.”
She says goodbye and hangs up, leaving me feeling a little bit more excited for the weekend than I was before. Honestly, if it wasn’t for her coming home and for Joe’s birthday, I’d have a whole lot of nothing filling up my agenda.
“So what’s on the menu for this evening, Chef?” Katie jokes, looping her arm through mine as we walk into the local Wegmans around four in the afternoon to do some food shopping.
“Well, what’s your dad’s favorite?” I grab a cart and walk toward the produce section. This place is a far cry from the specialty markets where I used to shop in Manhattan, but I guess I’ll have to get used to it.
“How about something fancy? It’s his fiftieth birthday, after all.” Shit, had I really forgotten that?
“Okay, I’ve got just the thing then.” I toss some vegetables and potatoes in the cart as I mentally run through the list of ingredients I’ll need to make Joe’s dinner.
A few aisles later, Katie grabs a few cans of soup and tosses them in the cart. “So, do you miss it already?” she asks, taking over control of the cart.
“Huh? Miss what?” I add a few cans of beef stock to make some gravy.
“Work. The firehouse. Do you miss it since you retired?” Walking past the ramen noodles, she loads up and gives me the ‘don’t start with me’ look. I know she’s a college kid, but this food sucks. I don’t think you can even call it food.
“You know that’s crap, right?”
“Yes, I do, but I’m in college and it’s cheap. And you’re avoiding.” She stops the cart in front of an end-cap of chips and dip. “Do you miss it?”
Persistent little bugger. Katie never was one to give up once she put her mind to something. It’s nice to see that hasn’t changed.
“Yes and no.” She rolls her eyes at me, clearly thinking I’m still trying to avoid her question. “What? It’s the truth,” I defend, shrugging my shoulders. We make our way toward the cereal and I figure I might as well talk. We’ve got a bunch more aisles to make our way around and the silence will just get uncomfortable.
“I do miss it. I miss the guys. They were like my family, especially since you and your dad lived so far away. Besides, if it wasn’t for that job, I wouldn’t know how to cook like I do.” I nudge her in the arm and she cracks a smile.
“You are a pretty great cook.” Walking along the back wall of the supermarket, I stop at the butcher’s counter and place my order. When I turn back to Katie, she has a serious look on her face. “What makes you not miss it?”
I want to say, “I don’t miss it because thinking about the brothers we lost, about the lives I couldn’t save, about the lung cancer I battled for years because I spent weeks upon weeks digging through buildings that were destroyed by some crazy, evil terrorists. That I don’t miss it because of the nightmares that would keep me up at night—that still haunt my sleep some nights − because of the family I could never have because of my commitment to my job.” But instead of all of that, I simply say, “I don’t miss it because if I was still there, I couldn’t be here, helping you and your dad.”
I think she can tell that’s not the entire truth, but instead of pushing, she just leans up on her toes and plants a kiss on my cheek just as the butcher brings out my order. He wraps the roast in a bag and I place it in the cart.
“Cake. We need a cake.” Katie spins toward the bakery; the smile on her face clearly intent on lightening the mood. And it does just that.
“I’ll meet you there. I forgot something a few aisles back.” I make my way to get some milk for the scalloped potatoes. They were Mom’s specialty and I know Joe will appreciate them. Even though I learned a lot from cooking at the firehouse, my true inspiration cam
e from my mom.
Turning toward the bakery, I see Katie talking with another woman. I recognize her instantly. Her long brown hair falls over her shoulders in soft curls. She must have come here straight from work because she’s wearing a slate-grey business skirt that shows off her curves. Her black heels make her legs go on forever—she looks . . . well, if I were a teenage boy, I would say she looks hot. But I’m anything but a teenage boy, so I’ll go with sleek and sophisticated—and hot, too. When Katie sees me approach from over the woman’s shoulder, she smiles mischievously and I can already tell what’s going through her mind.
“Uncle Evan, you remember . . .” Katie starts to make introductions, but none are needed.
“Lucy.” Her name sounds like silk as it tumbles from my mouth. She turns to face me when she hears my voice.
A warm smile spreads across her face. It’s the kind of full smile that reaches her eyes, making the blue color there seem even more vibrant than I remember it being.
“Hi, Evan. It’s good to see you again.” Her voice is soft and feminine, pretty, just like I remember it.
“You too.” Mine is thick, stuck in my throat.
“Katie tells me that you moved up here. Finally had enough of the city life, huh?” she jokes, shifting the weight of her hand-basket to get a better grip. Damn, she must think I’m some kind of liar. I wasn’t at the time. I had no idea I’d be living up here a month ago.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Katie laughs from behind Lucy. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s retired now.” Katie seems proud of herself for sharing that piece of information for me. She knows I would never offer it up on my own.
Great! Nothing screams ‘old man’ like “retired.”
“Congratulations, Evan. That’s great.” Her eyes crinkle softly in the corners as kindness permeates her features.
It’s not really. I had to because my lungs are shot. If it was up to me, I’d never leave the job. It’s the only life I know.
Again, my words from a month ago come back to me, and I can’t help but think she must see me as some kind of bullshit artist. When we last spoke, I told her I was on medical leave—that much was true.
“Uncle Evan and I were just getting a few things for Dad’s birthday party tonight.” Katie drops a chocolate mousse cake into the cart and turns to grab some candles from the rack next to it.
“How’s he doing?” Lucy asks me in a confidential tone as Katie walks away from us to grab a container of chocolate chip cookies. That girl has a serious sweet tooth.
“All things considered, he’s okay. I’m just glad I could be here to help him out.” I shrug my shoulders and nervously rearrange the produce in the top of the shopping cart.
Katie walks up behind Lucy and makes a kissy face. I smirk and laugh on the outside. On the inside, I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss Lucy’s full lips.
Those same lips are pulling into a goofy smile right now as Lucy follows my gaze to Katie still making the kissy face behind her back.
“Why don’t you come over, Lucy? I know Dad would love to see you and I think Reid and Maddy said they were going to stop by for cake at least.” Katie’s invitation dangles in the air, like bait waiting to be taken by a fish.
Lucy shifts the weight of her hand basket once again. “Oh, I don’t know, Katie. I don’t want to intrude.”
“Stop. You’re not intruding, right, Uncle Evan?” Hell, if I can see through Katie’s intentions, I’m pretty sure Lucy can. But, spending more time with Lucy would make for an even better night, so I have to be sure to thank Katie for her antics later.
“Not at all, we’d love to have you join us.” I take her basket from her hands and put it in the cart. “We’re ready to check out. Did you need anything else?” I look into her basket—a few frozen meals, men’s soap—so much for her being single. That tiny bubble of hope—a hope for something more—pops.
“Yeah, I’m all set.” All three of us walk to the check out together. Katie and Lucy chat animatedly about Katie’s return to school.
Even though she’s been there before, Katie gives Lucy the address and phone number to Joe’s house. “Oh, and here’s another number, just in case.” Katie rattles off seven very familiar digits. My ears must be fooling me because I think that Katie just gave Lucy my cell phone number.
We walk out to the parking lot and Lucy points to the opposite end of the lot. “I’m over there.” She reaches into the cart and grabs her two bags. “I’ll see you guys later.” Smiling, she waves as she walks away.
As Katie and I walk toward my truck, I pull a face at Katie and she looks at me. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence.
“Get in the car.” I chuckle as Katie sticks her tongue out at me. As I load the groceries in the back of the truck, I can’t help but smile at the turn of events.
A month ago, I was more than happy with the idea that I would be alone. Now, I’m not so sure that alone is where I want to be.
Chapter Ten
February 1, 2013
“What the hell am I doing?” I kill the ignition on the car and huff at no one in particular. “Calm down. It’s just dinner and birthday cake,” I coach myself out of the car and up the small walkway to Joe’s house. With my hand an inch away from the door, I take a deep breath and try my best to shake away any unease I’m feeling.
Before I can even knock, the door opens.
“Hey, Lucy.” My God, his voice, it does things to me.
“Hi, Evan,” I choke out as my words get caught in my throat.
“Come in. Let me take your coat.” Evan extends his hand to the side, letting me walk past him. The scent of his cologne fills my senses—clean and kind of citrusy, but purely male. As he slides my jacket off my shoulders, his thumbs graze my neck and shoulders—unintentionally I’m sure. But the shivers that race across my skin are there nonetheless.
“Can I get you a drink?” he offers politely, a casual grin pulling at his lips.
“Sure. Let me come in and help you.” I follow behind him into the kitchen. I didn’t notice at the grocery store earlier, since he was wearing a bulky winter coat, but his broad shoulders are muscled and strong. His biceps fill the sleeves of his navy-blue FDNY t-shirt. And those jeans, well, they should be illegal—snug in all the right places. And call me crazy, but the dish towel casually draped over his shoulder, because he’s busy cooking for his brother, makes him look even more delicious than any amount of tight denim ever will.
“Red or white?”
“Huh . . . what . . . oh, wine? Red please.” He pulls down a glass and opens the bottle with ease before sliding the glass over to me across the island countertop between us.
“Where’s Joe and Katie?” Having spent the last few minutes focusing entirely on Evan, I’m just now realizing that the house is empty.
“She took Joe out shopping for his birthday present. They should be back soon.” Turning away from me, he squats down to check whatever is in the oven.
I definitely do not check out his tight ass.
“Smells amazing. What are you making?” I take a sip of my wine and twirl the stem between my fingers.
“Just a roast and some potatoes. Nothing too special.” He drags the towel off his shoulders and wipes his hands.
“Well, it beats a frozen dinner or take-out.”
“Yeah, I saw those in your basket earlier. You don’t cook much then, huh?” He pulls out some lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers for a salad. That I can help with. I grab a knife from the block on the counter, stand next to him and start cutting the tomato.
“Nah. I mean, now that Melanie is back at school, there isn’t anyone to cook for.”
“You mean it’s just you?” There’s surprise and a touch of misunderstanding in his voice.
“Yeah, Maddy just moved in with Reid, so who else would there be?” I’m confused by his tone.
“Nothing, forget it.” He dismisses, but all I’m left with is the idea th
at he thought there was someone else in my life.
A touch of tension fills the space between us. Then, I think back to exactly what was in my shopping basket earlier.
“The soap? That’s what made you think I’m not alone.” His knife stops mid-slice and he turns to me.
“Uh, yeah. I mean unless you secretly like to smell like a man, I can’t imagine another reason.”
My cheeks turn pink, both at being caught buying men’s soap and at his misunderstanding of it. Call me crazy, but he seems a little disappointed at the prospect of me having a man in my life.
“It was my husband’s soap.” I put my knife down and sprinkle the chopped tomatoes on top of the salad.
“Was?”
Sipping my wine, I take in the mix of emotions on Evan’s rugged face. Confusion and concern are mixed with the smallest hint of relief. That last piece of information makes me smile around the rim of my glass.
“Yes, was. Jimmy passed away eighteen years ago. It’s been just me ever since.”
“Oh.” He continues his slicing and chopping, seemingly uncomfortable with what I’ve told him.
After a few long moments of salad making go by, the oven-timer beeps. Evan slides on some oven mitts and takes the roast out.
“Wow, Evan. That looks amazing. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal like this is forever.” I hope that my compliments, which are not empty at all, help to ease some of the awkwardness.
After he places the roast on a serving tray and tents it with some foil, he leans back against the counter, extending his legs in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. Taking a healthy swallow of his beer, I watch the muscles of his neck move, more than a little interested. Everything about him is strong and muscled; watching him move to put the beer down on the counter is like watching a work of art in motion. I let my eyes linger on his hands for a moment as they wrap tightly around the neck of his beer bottle. Briefly, I imagine what those rough and calloused fingers would feel like on my skin.
“You said ever since. You mean in all that time you never got remarried or anything like that? That there’s really no one right now?” His words have suddenly taken on an accusatory tone.
The Love Series Complete Box Set Page 93
