Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars
Page 31
“Same sappy look you get on your face when anyone talks about Amy Rose.”
Jess nodded. “There is that. Except Mama knew about Amy Rose the minute I was smitten with her thanks to someone sitting at this table who wasn’t me.”
Shane looked around the restaurant. Fancy was making her way from the kitchen with his food. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Jess snorted and kicked Shane under the table. “You spilled the beans to Mama the day I met Amy Rose at school.”
“My experience with Mama is that she’s pretty smart and would have put two and two together anyway.”
“My point exactly. Be careful, brother, how long you keep the love of your life secret from our mother. When she finishes guilting you to death, she’ll make you name your first born after Uncle Trey.”
Shane cringed. “Barnard Kipling Delaney III is not now and never will be a name that will be attached to any of my children.”
Jess snorted.
Fancy stopped at Shane’s side and set his burger in front of him.
“Thanks, Fancy.”
“Need anything else?”
“Not at the moment.” She moved off and he reached for the ketchup. “This is why I haven’t told anyone. Everybody minding my business, and I’d like to get her comfortable with me first before everybody in the damn family decides she needs to be their best friend.”
“Whoa, preaching to the choir here, son. But that’s how this family works and you know it. Don’t know what Amy Rose would do without Mama right now.”
Shane doctored his burger and pushed aside the frustration. “Why?”
“Big argument with her parents right before the fire. She finally told her father she wasn’t going to join the law firm, that she was staying here with me. They cut her off.”
“She finally chose you.” Shane took a bite of burger.
“Yeah, at the expense of having a family. You know I can’t stand either one of them, but they are Amy Rose’s parents.” Jess threw his napkin on the table and shoved his plate away. “She tried calling this morning to tell them about the fire, but had to leave a message. They don’t know about the marriage or the baby yet.”
Shane put his burger down. “I’m sorry, man. Anything I can do to help?”
“No, just saying she’s been on the phone with Mom a bunch of times today. Had to share her news with somebody that would be excited.”
Kendra’s situation prodded at him. It was similar to Amy Rose’s. Only daughter. Not speaking to her parents. Moved here away from everyone and everything she knew and she was alone. Was he being selfish in not considering how much his family could help her?
Yes, he was. But unless he was willing to fry himself in the process – because God knew what she was going to say about Bill Fudd – he didn’t know what else to do. “You been over to Amy Rose’s house? Not much left. I’m sorry.”
“You weren’t responsible for the fire, Shane.”
“I know. Hate it when we lose like that. Pisses me off, and to have it be hers isn’t right.”
“I drove by the house earlier. Left Amy Rose at home sleeping.”
“Find anything salvageable?” Shane knew in his gut that Jess hadn’t. Shane had seen the flames and fought the beast.
“Not much. Didn’t poke around too far. One corner of the dining room is intact, so maybe we’ll find something there. But it’s still smoldering and I promised Amy Rose we’d do it together.”
Shane listened and ate while Jess talked about the fire, the problems left behind, the coming baby and the ranch. He should have known that the Kendra subject wouldn’t be closed.
“Mama’s wondering why you are missing so many Thursday and Sunday dinners. She knows your work schedule as well as you do. What do you want me to tell her?”
Shane finished the last of his fries and pushed his empty plate to the edge of the table. He hated the fact that Jess and Sully and his other cousin Gifford had prodded the info out of him at Friday night poker. At least they were covering up his relationship with Kendra, like he asked. For now.
“Don’t tell her anything. I’ll go see her. I’ll go see them both.”
“If you say so. But I see Mom and Dad every day. Don’t leave me hanging.”
Shane looked across the restaurant and debated how much to tell Jess. “Look, I have reasons for why I’m doing this. I can’t explain right now.”
“I’d listen. You know I would.”
He brought his gaze back to his brother. “I know. You will be the first one I turn to. But right now, I have to sort this out for myself. Kendra dropped something on me this morning that I wasn’t prepared for. I think she thought I’d walk away. Except I have no plans to do that.”
“This morning?” Jess’s delighted grin spread across his face. “Spending the night now, are we?”
Shane tried for nonchalance, totally pissed at himself for letting that fact slip. “That’s what you keyed into? Where I spent the night?”
“Yes, I’m happy for you.”
“Happy you have company in your sappiness?”
“Yes, if you must know.” Jess’s teasing grin dropped off his face. “But I heard you. You’ve got some things to work out. You know I understand that. Seems like my relationship with Amy Rose might as well have been on the evening news every night for how much everyone minded my business. I get it. Remember we stand by you no matter what. You know who to ask if you need help.”
Shane finished the last bit of his beer. “Yes, I know. I’d like to see how far I can get on my own steam.”
“Well, sounds to me like you’re doing fine, so think about telling Mom soon, will you?”
He wanted to. God, he wanted to.
But Kendra wasn’t the real problem.
Their relationship wasn’t the real problem.
He was.
∞∞∞∞
Shane slipped his hat on the hook inside the back door of his parent’s house and wiped his feet. He’d been doing both since he’d been high enough to reach the hat rack. The house was quiet. His Dad’s truck was gone. But in this heat, his Mom had been sticking pretty close to home.
After talking to Jess, he knew it was time to quit holding himself so far apart. It wasn’t working anyway and it was hurting his mother most of all. She was a hands-on-mother and needed visits, not phone calls or text messages. And in the mother department, the parent department, he was damn lucky.
Amy Rose’s father cared about his law firm and all the power and prestige that brought him and little else. Her mother was a controlling witch of a woman who measured everything by money and always found Jess wanting.
Kendra’s mother stayed with her father who had embezzled millions and was going to jail, according to Kendra. That was a mess that he was sure had tons of details, but the bottom line was Kendra had been badly hurt.
His mother would walk across hot coals to make sure her sons knew she loved them and would do anything for them.
“Jess, is that you?” His mother’s voice came from the living room.
“No, Mom. It’s Shane. Wiping my feet. I’ll be there in a sec.”
She didn’t wait for him, but came running into the kitchen. Her arms went around him and he felt like a little boy coming home from school, knowing he had a note from the teacher and was in trouble, and wanting that one last hug before he got grounded.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you.” She gave him a stern look.
“Mom, I worked twenty-four hours on three separate fires and then went to bed.”
“Did you talk to Jess?”
He picked her up in another hug and twirled her around, pleased with her giggle. “Yes. I heard about the wedding and the baby.”
He dropped her to her feet and noted the happiness on her face. “I’m still planning with Amy Rose, but we might need some help around here to get ready. They want to get married at sunset on the patio.”
“Good deal. Tell me wh
at you need and I’ll be here.” Shane followed her to the kitchen table and sat.
“You want some food?”
“You don’t have to feed me every time I come over, Mom.”
“Since when?” She dropped into a chair across from him.
Since he discovered Kendra could cook and he loved her baking. Too bad he couldn’t recommend her for the wedding cake on Saturday, but then it would give away how he knew her. Trapped by his own omissions on both sides of his personal life and it was eating him alive. “I ate with Jess at the Low Down, Mom. I’m fine.”
“How’s work? We haven’t seen you for a bunch of Thursday night or Sunday dinners.”
“What’s the temperature today, Mom?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “I don’t know. Feels like one hundred ten.”
“One hundred seven. It’s been like this all darn summer. Means sometimes, even when I’m not scheduled to work, there’s a fire and I work.”
She reached out and patted his hand. “I know, honey. I’m sorry. Missing you, I guess.”
If that wasn’t a phrase intended to make a son feel guilty, then nothing else would. What could he say?
He gave her a quick smile. “I love you, Mom. I promise, as soon as it cools off, I’ll be back to the family dinners.”
“Well, we’re going to have the wedding practice this Thursday night along with dinner, so you best put that on your calendar.”
“Working, Mom. But I’ll see if I can trade with someone. I’ll do my best.” He yawned.
“Take your blue suit to the cleaners, will you?”
He grimaced. “Is this the wedding attire?”
“Yes, since I believe it’s the only suit you own.”
“Don’t have much call to wear one these days.”
“Well, you can’t wear your fireman getup.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
“And we don’t have a lot of time for tuxes and fussing.”
“I’ll think my suit is already in the closet with a dry cleaning bag over it. Don’t worry. I’ll be ready. White shirt?”
She smirked. “Yes. I’ll buy your tie.”
“You implying I can’t buy my own?” He rose and went to get glass of water. His throat was raw and tickling.
“Oh, you can buy your own, you can’t choose ‘em worth spit.”
He carried the glass back to the table and took a long drink. “I think I should be insulted by that, but I’ve heard I’m not supposed to argue with you.”
“Since when?”
“I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
She tapped the table and laughed out right. “Would be a first since you learned to talk.”
Shane didn’t know what to do with this conversation. He could see the questions in her eyes, could see how she struggled not to prod him or order him around. He felt plain lousy for the volumes of things he wouldn’t discuss with her.
Why couldn’t he talk to her? She’d never judged, never criticized, never made him feel less than capable of his own decisions. She’d argue, yes. She’d be pretty vocal about her opinion, but she never tried to sway, only made him try to think through his reasons.
“You have that look on your face?”
He leaned back and blanked his eyes. “Like what?”
“Like you’ve done something you need to confess, but don’t know how to tell me.” Her relentless face was on.
The pit in his stomach widened, gobbling at his sanity. “No, more like something I need to work out on my own.”
“You keep saying that, honey. But you’ve had that look for a long, long time.”
“Well, as you are fond of saying, Mom, some problems have to be endured for a while. Solution don’t always appear when we want them to.” He swallowed the last of his water.
“Maybe other people have solutions if you’d only talk to them.”
“Maybe, Mom. But I’d like to try to work it through myself, first.” He rose and carried his glass to the sink. He hated cutting her off. But he had to. He wasn’t ready to talk about Bill or Kendra. Both kept him quiet and he’d stay that way until he found his own point where he could figure out how to make happen what needed to or learn to live with it.
He picked up his keys off the table. “I should get to the fire department and make sure I can trade Thursday night.”
She banked her disappointment quickly, but he saw it flash through her eyes and swore at himself. He rounded the table and when she rose to her feet, he swept her into a big hug and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mom. Don’t forget that.”
“Your daddy says I try to help too much, that I gotta let you figure your way. Don’t like it, but neither of you boys give me a choice.”
“I appreciate your counsel, Mom.”
“I liked y’all better when you were little and I could order you around.”
“And I like you best as both my friend and a wise parent.” He kissed her cheek again.
“Get out of here, you sweet talker. Go use it on a girl.”
He chuckled and walked to the door, glad she couldn’t see his face. “See you soon, Mom.”
“Yeah, and next time push yourself away from Sully’s food and save room for my pie!”
“Deal.”
He didn’t exactly run to his truck, but he walked pretty fast and high-tailed it down the driveway. God, she was going to love Kendra. What the hell was he waiting for?
He tried Kendra, got her voicemail and left a message. Mid-afternoon and he was desperate for her voice, like he hadn’t woken up with her this morning and wouldn’t see her tonight. She was under his skin, reviving up an ache that he couldn’t deny. Right beside that, his mom’s lecture poked him every which way, leaving him sore and miserable. He needed some sleep. He needed to go running. Or he needed a fire. Otherwise, he was going to jump out of his skin.
You need to go ride. You always felt better after a couple hours on a horse.
Instead, he went to his apartment, not able to give himself even that much solace. He twisted the key in the lock and walked in the door to his lonely black leather sofa and a bunch of boxes. He lived in this apartment for almost two years and never unpacked completely. Never hung his western art. Never put the threads of his life back together after quitting rodeo.
And didn’t care.
He walked through the small space to the bedroom and found his suit hanging in a dry cleaning bag in the closet just like he thought. He’d taken it to the cleaners after his date with Kendra and was thankful he had. One less thing to hassle with. He tossed a duffle bag from his closet to the bed. He needed his work gear and he needed clothes and they needed to be in his truck for him to access in case he stayed at Kendra’s, not in an apartment he hoped to never sleep in again. She’d asked for slow, but now that he’d been with her, he wasn’t sure he could honor that.
“Damn, cowboy. You are in over your head.” He picked up his phone to text a few of the guys trade off half his shift on Thursday and to check with his supervisor for permission. He was pretty sure he could get a few hours out of someone…he’d covered for more than enough birthday parties and dates that someone should deliver. Assuming there was no fire.
He lifted his laptop from under the edge of his bed and turned it on.
“Time to find out what the hell Albert Dawson did and how it hurt Kendra.”
He settled on the sofa with his feet on the western coffee table that was still covered with the packing blanket, and started to read. An hour later, he closed the lid and put the computer aside. Then he stood and threw his pen against the far wall.
“O’Hare, you are plain stupid.” He swiped his hands through his hair and squeezed his head, trying to press back the volcano inside.
He picked up his notes and quoted Kendra from a newspaper article. “He lied to us. Told us so many lies.” He threw the notepad the way of the pen.
“What now? What now? Tell her the truth, I lose her. Tell her the truth and she re
alizes how much I’ve been keeping back, I lose her. Keep protecting myself with all these omissions and she finds out, I lose her.” There was no win-win in any of this. He’d fried himself from the git go when she’d almost been trampled by the horse and he hadn’t owned his cowboy truth.
It was damn time he sorted all this out and moved forward. He was so tired of being mired in the same thoughts – thoughts he ignored by working too much until he met Kendra. Einstein said not to try and solve problems with the same thinking that created them in the first place. That’s exactly what he was doing. His mom was right. It was time to lay this out and find a way to resolve it. He didn’t want to feel like this for the rest of his life. Kendra deserved a whole, loving husband, not a man being fractured by regrets and guilt.
His phone sounded a text message. He picked it up and read the message.
I’m home. I have cookies. Come on over when you can.
He smiled and shut his eyes. God, he loved her. He opened his eyes and studied the apartment. He wasn’t home and he was lost. Lost in himself, lost in stupid choices.
He texted her a reply. On some errands. I’ll be there in a few.
He went in the bedroom and spent a few minutes filling his duffle. He turned off the lights, swung the duffle over his shoulder, grabbed his laptop and walked out.
If this didn’t work out with Kendra…
His heart seized at the thought making him stumble. No matter what happened, he was giving up this place. Where he would go, he didn’t know. Hopes mingled with reality, shifting and crashing. He couldn’t face all that.
Yet.
He pushed his duffle into the backseat of his truck and drove to the only thing that might save or break him.
∞∞∞ ∞∞∞
CHAPTER SEVEN
The week rolled into Friday with a flurry of activity for the wedding. Shane walked into The Low Down and cringed at the noise. Tonight the restaurant was filled with dinner guests and a full complement of busy waitstaff and bartenders. He dodged the hostess and made his way to a large round table near the banquet room. The same table had been home to their Friday night poker game since Sully dumped himself into a mountain of debt three years ago to buy the restaurant. It was only fitting that the tradition should combine with another male ritual – the bachelor party.