by Ash Harlow
“Whoa, that’s totally scary shit. I’m feeling some sympathy with your doctor right now.”
“I probably haven’t explained that too well.”
“You tried, and I appreciate that.”
She admired his speed with the food preparation, especially when he was no longer distracted by kissing her. Or trapping her on the counter top without even touching her. That kiss had been hot—everything she’d dreamed of when she’d allowed her mind to wander that far—and it had been wrong. Big, bad, sexy wrong. Now they were settled in a silence way too comfortable if she was going to be able to maintain a chaste distance, and she was pleased when Vince announced dinner was ready. She slipped off the counter and set the table.
Vince followed moments later with steaming bowls of chili con carne. “Dinner of champions,” he announced as he placed a dish in front of Lulah. “Tell me what you think.”
Seconds later, Lulah put her fork down, fanning her mouth. “Hot, Vince. Healthy, but hot.”
“Are you talking about me or the food?”
“Yeah, nice try but no catch.” He smiled right back at her, a smile as hot as the dinner he’d prepared.
“Tell me about Lulah growing up.”
“You don’t want to hear about that.”
“So why did I ask?”
“Okay. I’m an only child. We traveled all over because Daddy was a gambler. A really crap one.”
Vince looked up from his plate. “Crap at craps?”
“Precisely. He would do okay for a while, then lose the lot. Until I was seven, we actually had our own house, and I had a regular school and friends, the whole ice cream and topping. We even had vacations and a reliable car. One day I came home from school to find a truck backed up to the house, carting everything away. Mom shouted, and Dad wandered back and forth pretending everything was fine, as if this was exactly the way he intended that day to go. He’d lost everything. We shipped out, and I didn’t even have the opportunity to say goodbye to my friends.”
“Oh, nasty.”
“From that moment on, our life became a progression of rental accommodations, trailer parks, and bad motel rooms. We shifted from place to place. Sometimes we didn’t even stay long enough for me to be enrolled at school. Dad cruised from flush to broke, lucky to cursed, but always certain the big win sat on the horizon. Eventually, Mom had enough and took off with some guy. I received a birthday gift from her for the next couple of years, but I guess we either shifted one time too many or she lost interest. Not a thing for my tenth birthday, and I haven’t heard anything since.”
“That’s really rough. That sort of story is what makes me determined to be part of Gable’s life. Always. Whether she wants me there or whether she lives on the other side of the country, I’ll be there for her.”
Lulah smiled at him. “Good, make sure you are.”
Vince reached up and rubbed behind his neck. “It’s difficult right now. Taryn doesn’t want me to see her after the last, you know, event. I have to make some self-improvements before that happens. But I make Gable little drawings and cards and send them. They’re genuine; they’re from my heart, from the good part of me. I hope Taryn passes them on, but I can’t be sure.”
Vince’s eyes were filled with loss. “Is one of the stipulations for seeing Gable that you take your medication?”
He kept working at that spot behind his neck. “I guess. We haven’t discussed it fully, but I need to stay away until Taryn calms down a bit. Maybe I can ask a counselor or the chaplain from the VA to approach her on my behalf in a few weeks’ time. See if they can arrange a visit for me. I’m concerned if I stir things up, I’ll lose it. What do they call it? Emotional dysregulation? Fancy words for no fucking self-control. I can’t have that happening.”
“Is that what happens,Vince? Do you lose control?”
“I become anxious, I guess. If things start to amp up too far, the PTSD kicks in, and the situation quickly becomes messy. Problem is, that doesn’t happen every time. Sometimes I’m fine, and that’s almost worse. I can’t trust myself. It’s as though I’m living in a minefield because I don’t know if I’m going to blow with the next step, or not.”
“It must be hell.”
“It’s one of them.”
“One of them?”
“I have a lot of ‘hells’, Lulah. I’m best avoided.” He pushed his chair back and started to clear the plates. “Hope this didn’t burn too badly,” he added.
Lulah placed her hand over his wrist as he reached for her utensils. “Leave those. The chef never has to clear up. You haven’t had time in the barn yet. You go, and I’ll clear these away. Would you like me to bring you a coffee later?”
He nodded, and headed out the door. Lulah watched him cross the yard followed by Calliope who dropped in behind him, inches from his left knee, as soon as she noticed him head for the porch stairs.
Those little snippets he revealed tonight confirmed for her that Vince was in no-man’s land. She started clearing the dishes. Would it help Vince if he could gain some access to Gable or would he blow that again? In the end, the child had to be safe, and nobody knew how safe Vince was.
She left him for a couple of hours before taking him coffee and brownies she’d made the day before. “No chili in these, so I hope they’re hot enough for you. Is here okay?” she asked as she placed the tray on a clean area of the workbench.
Vince watched her from a place where he had a block of wood secured in a vise. In one hand, he held a chisel. “That’s kind of you. Thank you.”
“What are you making?”
“Something for Gable. This is the wagon I told you about. She was having so much fun playing with it so I’m going to fix it up for her.”
He had cleaned up the barn to make the workshop functional and comfortable, and Lulah went to the corner where he’d arranged a couple of armchairs and a small table near the window. She sat and noticed the view back up to her porch. Joker had followed her in and now lay on a rug beside a bed Vince had obviously crafted for Calliope. Heck, everything he touched was beautiful. She watched him carving, the muscles in his forearms all play and power beneath his tattoos.
“Don’t forget Mike from the service dog center is coming. Training will be more serious now. He’s bringing a couple of dogs who have almost finished training, and he’s going to help bring Calliope up to speed. He’ll be at the Sanctuary Monday morning, and so will you and Calliope, yeah?”
He kept his back to her when he spoke. “Did I agree to that?”
“Sure you did.”
“I don’t remember...”
“Blame the medication.”
“I’m not taking my medication.”
“Perhaps you should.”
Vince dropped the sanding block on the workbench and took a step towards her, making her shift more upright in the armchair. “So you think Zombie-Vince is preferable to this?”
“Yeah.” She paused. “No, I doubt it.”
“Sure about that?” He took another step.
She could hardly breathe, and if he came much closer, her heart would stop. “I’m not sure about anything right now,” she said softly. She and Vince had hung out on occasion for months. But whatever happened between them recently changed their casual friendship, and suddenly, any time she was in his vicinity, the air became scarce and her heart jumped about like that of a hunted rabbit.
There was still space between Vince and the door, and staying with the rabbit thing, she jumped to her feet and called Joker.
“Lulah, wait.”
Oh, hell.
“I go to the Farmers Market each Saturday. Why don’t we go together?”
Yeah, why not? The Farmers Market would be perfectly safe, not a date, just a shopping trip. “Nice idea, let’s do that.”
“Good, I’ll pick you up at nine.”
“Sounds perfect. Good night, Vince.”
“Sleep tight, Lulah.”
She could hear the smile in his voi
ce. Sleep was unlikely, at least until she settled herself.
Chapter Six
“Quick, Vince, the relish and pickles have almost sold out.” Lulah grabbed his hand and tugged him in the direction of her favorite preserves stall. She hadn’t visited the Halo Peak Farmers Market for some months, and she was down to the last half-inch in a jar of Mrs. Mueller’s amazing relish. At her stall, they tasted the samples, joking and laughing until Vince caught her, suggesting she try the most wicked jelly, without any warning as to its heat level.
“This is genuine UHT relish,” he said as he placed a sample on her tongue.
She gasped as the fiery bite of eye-watering preserve blasted her mouth. Swallowing quickly, Lulah coughed. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Vince,” she warned.
“I thought you’d like Ultra Hot Tomato relish,” he teased.
“I couldn’t find any tomato in that. Just blistering heat. What is it?”
Vince picked up the test pot and read the label. “Ah, you’re right, there is no tomato; it’s Habañero Pepper Jelly.” He replaced the pot and grinned at her. “Come on, let me make it up to you with something sweet.”
“All right, but I get to choose. Follow me.” She led him through a shortcut to a stall where a young woman had for the past year tempted the market crowd with both classic and unique hand-made chocolates.
“Lulah! I haven’t seen you for such a long time.”
“Too long, I know, Jess. I’ve been busy at work.”
“You call that work?” Jess indicated towards Vince.
“Oh, you’ve no idea how much work he is,” Lulah replied.
“If he’s what’s kept you busy on Saturday mornings, he sounds like exactly the sort of work you need.”
Lulah made introductions and watched Vince work his magic on Jess. When he was on form, he charmed her, and Lulah felt a rush of pleasure at being in his company.
“I want to seduce Vince with one of your chocolates…I meant, seduce him into becoming a fan of yours.” Boy, did that ever come out wrong, and the way Vince looked at her now made her cheeks hot. “Vince, close your eyes while I choose a chocolate for you.”
Perhaps he felt guilty for having scoured her taste buds with the chili because he complied without hesitation. From the display, Lulah chose a chocolate which she allowed to warm a little in her hand. “I have to tell you, these are exquisite chocolates. Jess roasts and hand-grinds her own cacao beans so her chocolate is rich and bitter. This one I’ve chosen has a rosewater ganache with ground pistachios. It’s not the most exotic, and it’s certainly not what you would call a classic truffle, but the way the delicate rose comes through at the end to linger on your palate is heavenly. Even though you’re a man, I think you’ll appreciate it.”
On the other side of the table, Jess almost doubled-over, doing her best to suppress her laughter.
Lulah raised the chocolate to Vince’s mouth, painting his lips with one careful swipe. “Uh-uh,” she warned as he opened to take it in. “Taste that smear first.” She’d carefully brushed his mouth with only the rich coating. He slipped his tongue across it, tasted it, and smiled.
“Very good.”
“Ready for more?”
“You bet.”
“The best way to enjoy this is to hold it in your mouth, let the outer, more bitter chocolate melt across your tongue, and allow the layers of sweetness to slowly reveal themselves.” She popped it into his mouth, watching him hold the chocolate as she’d instructed. On her tiptoes, she spoke near his ear. “Suck it gently while I count to five, Vince, then sink your teeth in to bite through.” She turned to the Jess and winked.
Lulah counted to five, reminded Vince to bite gently, and waited.
His eyes flew open. “Jesus, Lulah!”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full; now swallow,” she teased.
Vince gulped like a seagull. “What the hell was that?”
The women broke into fits of laughter. Jess recovered first and answered. “Wasabi, seaweed, ginger, and black sesame. It’s really rather nice, under the right circumstances, but I can’t imagine what it tasted like if you were expecting something sweet.”
“It tasted like the bottom of a goldfish bowl…with horseradish.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” Jess smiled. “Let me put a few together that might be more to your liking. They add a certain flourish to a romantic evening.”
Lulah could feel her cheeks warming again. The idea of a romantic evening with Vince was something she’d thought about a lot recently. Was it that obvious to Jess or had she presumed some sort of relationship because they were here at the market together?
Jess handed the bag to Vince. “No charge, as long as you make that woman happy. And if you think my chocolates helped, be sure to tell your friends.”
After thanking her, they moved along, and this time, Vince led the way. “Nice trick, Lulah, especially after building the idea of the sweet chocolate in my mind. Way more sophisticated than my clumsy attempt with the chili.”
“A touch of finesse wins every time.”
Vince wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in to plant a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Thanks, Lulah, this is fun.”
“Are you doing okay with the crowds?”
“I’m doing great. I’m ignoring the crowds and concentrating on you. Come this way; there is something I’d like you to see.”
Adjacent to the covered area of the market was an open field where several carnival rides set up. She was surprised that he bypassed the more thrilling rides, the shooting gallery, and strength games to take her directly to the carousel.
“Did you ever ride the carousel?”
“Yeah, I did. Dad sometimes helped out at fairs when I was a kid. I loved the carousel.”
“Your favorite animal?
“Definitely a dog I once rode. My other favorite was a porpoise. I don’t know why, because I’d never visited the ocean, but its lines were so sleek. What about you?”
“Oh, I’m a traditionalist. I love the horses. My Granddad made carousel animals, carved them from wood. I think I enjoyed watching him, learning how to do it, more than actually riding the carousel. Recently, I’ve been trying my hand again at wood carving. I have one of Granddad’s horses to restore that I found at the back of a car wrecker’s yard. And somebody tracked me down online, from a wood carving forum where I go sometimes, and they’re sending me a tiger they want restored. I’m going to try making one from scratch, too. Although I’ve done graphic design, I prefer working directly with my hands over using a computer.” They’d now reached the carousel. “Come on, there’s not much of a line; let’s have a ride.”
The ride was safari park themed, and they stood back, waiting for the children to barter it out over the elephant, tiger, and lion. When the children were settled, Vince told Lulah to pick her ride. She chose a hummingbird, and once she’d straddled it, Vince took her hands, wrapping them around the pole, before he took the antelope alongside her. The music started, and the carousel set off in its counter-clockwise direction with children waving and calling out to their camera-wielding parents. Lulah didn’t think she’d ever seen Vince so relaxed.
At the end of the ride, they dismounted, Vince taking a moment to run his hand over the lines of the antelope. “Did you ever want to have one of the carousel animals at home with you, so that you could ride it all the time?” He continued before she had a chance to answer him. “You see, here,” he pointed to the antelope’s legs, “you can affix a set of rockers, and it makes a piece for a child to play on.”
“An adult, too,” Lulah said.
He turned and grinned at her. “I’m going to make one. I’ll draw something up and show you.”
A few yards away a balloon burst, and Vince jumped, grabbing her, and pulling her with him. In a flash, he apologized for his reaction. “Always the risk at a place like this, sorry, Lulah.”
“No problem, are you alright?” She watched as
he slipped a few glances around then came back to her.
“Yeah, I’m good, but I’m ready to leave. Do you mind if I wait for you in the pickup?”
“It’s fine. I’m ready to head home, too.” He took her hand, his a little clammy, as they went behind the rides towards the car park.
“Let’s make dinner together tonight, and after, we can have a game of chocolate roulette.”
“Blindfolded?”
“Lulah, behave.” Vince laughed.
He was right, but if she was going to behave, she shouldn’t even be having him over for dinner.
Chapter Seven
Vince arrived home after midnight. Earlier that evening, when Lulah headed off to bed, he’d moved his pickup to the end of her drive so that when he left the barn to drive home, he wouldn’t disturb her. It distracted him for a while, thinking about her across the yard, asleep there on the porch, but as he concentrated more on the carving that was to sit across the rear of Gable’s wagon, Lulah slipped out of his mind.
He was creating a replica of his tattoo that Gable loved to examine. The one with her name on it. He designed another piece to go along one side of the wagon where he would carve Donkey and sunflowers like those she’d painted for him, around the trim. The middle he would leave as a blank space for Gable to paint in whatever she wished.
He opened the back door to his house and let Calliope enter first, watching her ears, the line of hair along her spine, her tail, to see if she alerted to anything. He smiled a little when he realized that he already assigned her some of the duties of a service dog. She padded over to her water bowl and took a long drink. Clearly, there was no threat in the kitchen. Vince followed her and refreshed the water when she’d finished.
He felt edgy. Something about having Lulah in the barn for an hour that evening calmed him more than the focus of his work, and even after she’d left the barn, that tranquil aura stayed behind. It was her. She helped him get closer to locating that place of peace he wanted to believe existed somewhere within him. If he tried harder, if he became a better, more worthy man, maybe he’d find that place, too. The idea of a minute of peace was intoxicating.
