She had to laugh. And not just at Hazel. Because what the hell else was she going to do? The eighty-year-old woman was most definitely going to have her hands on a man well before Beth would that’s for sure. It was more than depressing that the tiny, frail woman with fake teeth and a replacement hip had more suitors than she did. Then again at Hazel’s age being a widow with daughters wasn’t the dating equivalent of telling someone you have the plague.
Now Beth understood why Nancy was single all those years.
It was just easier.
A loud thump came from the front bedroom a half-second before the wail began.
“Moooooooooooooooooommmmmmmm!” Kate’s voice was frantic as speedy feet clamored down the hall toward the kitchen. “Liza tipped over Miss Hazel’s drawers.”
Hazel didn’t even flinch, just picked at a wad of bright blue fuzz clinging to her sweater. Beth rushed to follow Kate into the bedroom and just as her daughter said, Hazel’s antique dresser was tipped over, wedged against the bed, suspended on an angle against the pink chenille covered mattress.
Beth scanned the room, her stomach dipping more with each swing of her eyes. “Where’s your sister?”
Kate pointed at the bed. “On the floor.”
“Liza?” Beth rushed into the room, her heart pounding faster every second that slipped by with no response from her daughter.
Liza must have knocked herself unconscious.
The heavy weight of the solid wood dresser might have even split her head open and she was unconscious and bleeding.
Beth grabbed the dresser and lifted, drawers sliding free of their tracks and toppling onto the wood floor. She stopped and dropped to the ground, wedging her body in the small gap, using her back to hold the remaining drawers in place as she pushed up. By the time the dresser was back on all fours Beth still hadn’t heard a peep from her daughter and now was positive Liza was in a coma or possibly even—
Dead.
Beth looked down, the last breath she took frozen in her seized lungs.
The floor was empty. No Liza.
“Liza!”
By now Nancy and Hazel were in the room as Beth dropped to her hands and knees, still yelling for her surely injured child. Flipping up the hem of the pink chenille bedspread, Beth finally found Liza, tucked safely under the bed, wrapped in a pile of costume jewelry that dumped onto the floor from one of the escaped drawers.
She had a ring on each finger, some gold, some jewel encrusted, all gaudy, and at least ten necklaces of various lengths and type in a pile around her neck. Her brown eyes blinked at Beth. “Hi mommy.”
“Hi.” Beth dropped the cover and rocked back on her heels, letting her head fall back as she fought conflicting emotions. On one hand, she wanted to hold her baby and kiss her perfectly unhurt face.
On the other, she wanted to strangle her.
She turned to Hazel. “I’m so sorry.” She looked back at the dresser. Besides needing its drawers and their contents replaced it didn’t seem damaged from the fall.
Hazel waved her off. “Honey don’t you worry. I’m just glad it’s being played with.”
Beth looked back at the innocent dresser her daughter attacked. The ornately carved piece of furniture looked more like an heirloom than a toy. “If anything is broken please let me know.” Beth began to gather the jewelry not currently adorning Liza who was still tucked under the bed. “I’ll be happy to replace it.”
The sound of the doorbell chimed gently in the hall. Nancy crouched beside Beth and took the jewelry from her hands. “That’s Paul. I texted him to bring a ladder so we could get the decorations hung.” Nancy patted Beth’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go let him in and Hazel and I will clean this up.”
Beth nodded and stood up, frustrated and embarrassed. As she hurried down the hallway she could hear Nancy chattering and Liza giggling. The doorbell rang again just as she yanked the door open to let Paul in.
“I’m sorry, Liza tipped over a dresser and dumped jewelry everywh—”
She gaped, her voice gone.
There was a man with a ladder standing on Hazel’s porch but it wasn’t Paul.
“Shit.” The word was out before Beth realized she said it out loud. “Shit.” And then she said it again.
Don’s eyes were so much lighter than she realized. Like a glacier. A crystal clear blue that cut right through you. Eyes that made you struggle to say anything but shit.
He stood with the storm door propped open, resting against his hip, less than two feet in front of her. It was the closest they’d ever been.
In reality anyway.
“Is she okay?” His voice was smooth and rich. It wrapped around her like a hot bath, warming her body. Starting in one particular area.
Oh God.
Why did it have to get worse? Why couldn’t he have a voice like Kermit the Frog? Or a weird lisp. Something, anything to tamp down the already too realistic fantasies where she always cast him in a starring role.
And that was before today. Before she knew the exact color of his eyes. The precise length of the black lashes framing them. How rich and deep and smooth his voice was.
All the better to imagine him whispering sweet nothings into her ear with.
Don’s brow lowered as a look of concern grew on his face. “Is she okay?” He repeated his question.
“Who?” Beth’s brain scrambled to remember anything of what she’d said to him but came up empty.
“Liza. That’s your little girl, right? You said she tipped over a dresser. Did she get hurt?” He leaned to one side, peeking around her shoulder into the house.
Beth did a mental head slap. Nothing like a negligent mother to get a man interested. As if he was in the market for a ready-made family anyway. She needed an actual head slap.
“She is fine. Just kind of a handful.” Beth stepped to one side, holding the storm door as Don moved past with the ladder.
He gave her a little smile revealing deep dimples on each side of his full lips. “Aren’t those the best kind of kids?”
Her heart skipped a beat and she licked her lips. Luckily the length of the ladder forced him to move halfway into the living room and a much more comfortable distance from her as she closed the door. “I guess that would depend on the day.”
His deep chuckle vibrated through her body as she pushed the door closed.
Every woman dreams about the kind of men only found in the glossy pages of magazines, all chiseled features and rock hard bodies covered in lean muscle. They imagine what they would do if they found a man like that.
Unfortunately, Beth now knew exactly what she would do with a man like that. Put him front and center of all her naughty little imaginings, and then turn into a complete twat in his presence.
And the twat needed to shut her mouth.
And probably her eyes.
****
“Paul throw you under the bus?” Nancy came zipping past him from a door off the hall, past where he stood in the front room and disappeared into another room at the back of the large old house. She reappeared seconds later with a stack of what appeared to be fans.
“Hazel wants these hung from the ceiling.” Nancy pulled one free and grabbed the edges and pulled them apart. The flat strip expanded and unfurled into a light, papery snowflake with a thin string attached. She pressed a piece of double-sided tape between the edges to hold the decoration in its expanded shape. “Here.” She gave him the snowflake and a roll of regular scotch tape.
“Beth honey, can you open these and hand them up to Donnie?” Nancy didn’t wait for an answer before she dumped her armful of folded snowflakes at Beth who still stood by the door where she’d let him in. “You need this too.” She topped the pile off with the roll of double-sided tape. “I’m going to go finish the food.” And she was gone.
Beth started unfurling the snowflakes, her eyes staying glued to the delicate patterns of blue and white tissue paper as she worked. Between their awkward exchange when he arri
ved and her silence now, Beth’s level of discomfort at being near him was palpable. She probably wasn’t too thrilled about having to work with the town asshole.
Don opened the ladder in the center of the room and climbed to the top. He taped the looped string tied to the flake to the plaster ceiling letting the frilly paper dangle free. He glanced down to find Beth’s eyes on him.
He hated that his first thought was how perfect her skin was. How soft it would be under his touch. How gently he would brush his fingers over her smooth cheeks, if only…
If only.
He cleared his throat and tried to push away the thoughts he’d had about Nancy’s daughter-in-law since he first saw her playing with her daughters in the yard of the farmhouse. “Is that how she wants them?”
Beth didn’t get a chance to reply.
“That is just perfect.” Hazel scooted across the floor beneath him, the pink of her scalp standing out against the tight white curls covering the top of her head. “Beth you can leave those there. I’ll assist our handsome working man. Little Liza wants to tell you something.” Hazel smiled up at him, giving him a wink.
Beth nodded and set the snowflakes on the end table close to where Hazel stood, gazing up at him from behind silver rimmed, bi-focal lenses. Don tried to keep his eyes off Beth as she disappeared down the hall, not wanting to give her any more reason to feel uncomfortable around him.
“All right big boy. Let’s get these hung before my girlfriends show up.” Hazel held one up as he descended the ladder. “How old are you Donald?”
“Thirty-four.” He quickly took the snowflake and climbed back up the ladder. These decorations were going up and then he would be making a hasty exit before he forgot who he was and started to get ideas.
“You like older women?”
“Hazel, leave him alone or he’ll never come back.” Nancy swept in and shooed the older woman away. “Your lipstick is fading. You should probably go refresh.”
“I do want to look my best for my guests.” Hazel started down the hallway then paused, turning to look at him, batting her eyes slowly. “Some more than others.”
Nancy shook her head as Hazel disappeared. “Ignore her. She’s just all wound up with cabin fever.” Nancy handed him another snowflake. “How are things?” Her voice was soft, caring.
“Things are okay.” Don gave her the same answer he gave everyone who cared enough to ask, and that wasn’t many. Not that he could fault anyone for not giving a shit about how his life was.
“I would guess your definition of okay and mine are very different.” Nancy held out a snowflake. She didn’t immediately release it when he tried to take it from her. Instead, she held his gaze. “You would call me if you ever needed anything, right?”
He looked her right in the eye and lied to her for the second time in as many minutes. “Yes.”
They finished hanging the remaining flakes in silence. Don was folding the ladder and getting ready to sneak out when a stampede of light-footed steps came clamoring down the hall.
“Girls, please don’t run.” Beth’s voice carried down the hall behind two, dark-haired girls, one a shade lighter than the other.
“Who are you?” The little one with hair the color of chocolate looked up at him, her sister standing at her side. The resemblance was unmistakable. He was face-to-face with two smaller, darker haired Beth’s.
“I’m Don.”
“You have a handsome face.” Liza squinted up at him. “’Cept for the booger in your nose.”
His hand immediately flew to his nostrils. He was rubbing away when both girls busted out laughing.
“Gottcha!” Liza continued to laugh all the way to the kitchen with her sister close on her heels.
He stared behind them, still brushing the tip of his nose, a little taken aback by the two balls of energy chattering loudly in the other room.
“They’re already in the kitchen aren’t they?” Beth gave him an apologetic smile as she followed her daughters. “Sorry about them.”
He shook his head, really hoping the girls were just giving him a hard time and there wasn’t actually anything dangling from his nose as he gave Beth a smile. “Nothing to be sorry about. They remind me of my sisters.”
“Have you two ever been properly introduced?” Nancy stepped in from the kitchen where she’d gone to put away the tape and grab him a cup of coffee for the road. She held out the disposable travel cup. Steam wafted from the small drinking hole in the plastic lid. “Beth, this is Donnie—” She caught herself and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, old habit.”
Without thinking it through, he shifted the hot cup to his left hand and held out his right. “Don Jenkins.” He froze realizing the position he accidentally put Beth in. Shake the hand of a man the whole town thought was capable of attempted murder, or risk looking snobby in front of Nancy, one of the only people who always defended him. He tried to think of a way to remedy the situation. If anyone was going to look bad, it should be him, not her. She had enough to worry about.
Just as Don decided to spill scalding hot coffee on himself to save Beth the embarrassment he unwittingly caused, she stepped in close and slipped her hand in his and everything stopped.
The chatter of her girls in the kitchen. Nancy and Hazel milling around the living room fluffing pillows. Even his heart seemed to stop beating when the woman he’d been quietly caring for, watching over without anyone knowing, touched her hand to his.
She slowly raised her eyes to his and took a breath so deep he could almost feel it fill his lungs. “Beth Dalton.” And then, for reasons lost on him, she didn’t let go.
How long, her hand stayed gently tucked into his Don had no idea. Long enough that he knew he would hate to let it go. Also long enough to be noticed.
“Are you gettin’ handsy with my man young lady?” Hazel bumped Beth with her walker and gave him a wink. “Beth can you go help Mildred up the driveway? Don’t need her trying to sue me if she falls on her wrinkled keester.”
Beth’s hand slid from his and he would swear her cheeks were the tiniest bit pink as she quickly turned and slipped out the front door into the cold afternoon air. He watched after her, worried she might slip herself, even though he knew darn well the drive and sidewalk were cleared and salt covered.
Hazel looped one arm through his and started directing him to the kitchen. “You don’t have to run off. Why don’t you go have some snacks?” She struggled to scoot her walker with one hand and hang onto him with the other.
He stopped by one of the folding chairs set up around the card table in the living room. “How about you sit and I’ll go get you a plate?”
Hazel placed her hand on her chest and looked at him from under non-existent lashes. “That would be lovely Donald.”
Don barely made it into the large eat-in kitchen before he was stopped by a little hand shoving a plastic package as high in his direction as it could reach.
Beth’s younger daughter stared up at him. “Can you open this for me?”
He took the pack and looked at it. “What’s in it?”
“A snack.”
The wrapper was covered in animated princesses. He pinched each side and pulled gently, not wanting to explode the contents all over Hazel’s yellowed linoleum. He handed the open fruit snacks back. “Are you Liza?”
She shoved two in her mouth and nodded. “Uh-huh.” She chewed the fruity smelling jellies for a second. “You’re that guy my mommy looks at out the window.”
His stomach dropped. He’d been so careful. Using a plastic edged snow shovel so it wouldn’t scrape. Shutting his car off before he coasted into her driveway. Waiting until late enough everyone would be asleep.
“What do you mean?” He shifted in his boots. Maybe that was why Beth was uncomfortable around him. All he’d wanted was to make her life a little easier. Give her one less thing to worry about.
Now it appeared he may have done the opposite. Not only would she think the town cad was st
alking her, but if anyone found out, the taint of his bad reputation would come too close to affecting hers.
“She likes to watch you make the fields pretty.” Liza tossed in two more chewies. “Especially when it’s hot.” She raised up on her toes and peeked on the counter. “Can I have a drink?”
He blew out a breath of relief as he looked at the counter she was gazing at intently. A line of two-liter bottles stood side by side. “Sure. What do you like?”
She pointed at the middle bottle. “I like the orange one.”
Don scooped a few cubes of ice into a pale blue plastic cup and carefully filled the cup halfway. He held out the fizzing soda to Liza. She took it and started drinking, watching him as she did. After draining half of what he gave her, she licked her lips and burped. “Thanks.”
She took another drink, rolling her eyes to the kitchen doorway as she swallowed. The glass was empty in a few seconds more and she set it on the counter beside him. “You’re good at helping. Are you a daddy?”
Her innocent question stabbed him directly in his most sensitive spot. “No. I’m not lucky enough to be a daddy.”
Liza shrugged. Much less affected by his broken and abandoned dreams. “Maybe someday you will be.”
FOUR
A line of minty drool worked its way free from the corner of Beth’s mouth and started a slow trail down her chin. She tried to suck it back in, tipping her head toward the ceiling hoping gravity would cut her a break.
“Don’t let that fall on my hair mommy.” Kate wiggled in front of her, the hair Beth was already struggling to confine in a clear plastic band threatening to escape her grip.
“Hold phtill.” Beth clamped down on her toothbrush, trying to keep it in place as she wrestled the band around her daughter’s soft and slippery hair. “Got it.” She leaned around Kate and spit what was left of her paste into the sink and wiped the rest off her chin. “Come on.”
Kate followed her downstairs where Liza was draped across the couch, her pink shirt shoved up, stomach exposed above clashing orange leggings one size too small. She groaned. “My belly is so hungry.”
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