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MAKE ME A MATCH (Running Wild)

Page 14

by Hutchinson, Bobby


  Her shirt was high necked, which was a real shame.

  “I think they’re even having sex, Eric. They go across the border to this pub and then they don’t come back until the next day. Mom even told me the name of the motel they stay at, in case I need to get in touch with her. It’s absolutely gross.”

  “Sex, huh?” He clucked his tongue. “At their age. What are they, in their fifties now? That is revolting.” Eric tried to keep a straight face and couldn’t manage it. He broke up, and after a minute, she did, too.

  “Well, the very idea of my parents in bed together is enough to send me running to a nunnery.”

  He gave her a long, lazy look, imagining her in bed instead. “I’d give that more thought if I were you. I don’t think it’s a step you ought to take as a protest gesture. Why not try burning something instead?” Like your underwear ?

  “That’s a thought. My birth certificate, maybe?”

  “I’m with you there. I knew early on that having kids should be a licensed operation.”

  “Your parents weren’t around much, were they? I always thought it was so romantic, you guys having musicians for parents. Mine were so boring, salesperson, insurance adjuster.”

  Eric snorted. “I’d have traded Sonny and Georgia for almost anybody else’s folks. We grew up with a string of sitters, because they spent most of their time traveling with the band, playing gigs in every small town in B.C. The only times they stayed home for any length of time was when Georgia had a baby. Thank god somebody clued them in about birth control after Karen was born or I could still be raising kids.”

  “Didn’t you have a woman staying with you? Flaming red hair, long black dresses. Karen used to call her Auntie Mo.”

  “Yeah, our aunt Maureen, Sonny’s sister. She never married, fancied herself an artist. She painted, never sold a thing. Dad talked her into living with us when I was fourteen. It meant there was an adult on the premises, so social services couldn’t step in, which I think they were threatening to do by that time. Maureen was a token babysitter; she had a major drinking problem, spent most of her time in her room. Poor old Mo, Soph says she was suffering acute depression as well as alcoholism.”

  “She still alive?”

  “Nope, dead. She died of liver cancer when I was in my early twenties. She’d been sick for a while, she and I were the only ones living at home by then. The girls all moved out. Sophie and Anna were living in residence at university, and Karen had an apartment with three other students from the School of Hairdressing. I was just getting the business started, running it out of the house. But right after Maureen died, the parents sold it, so I had to find somewhere else to set up shop.”

  “Wow. Weren’t you pissed off at them?”

  “Big-time. I still am, matter of fact.”

  She propped an elbow on the table and leaned her chin on her hand. “I mean, first they leave you to raise your sisters, and then they boot you out of the house. That’s straight out of Dickens. What’s up with them, anyway?” She watched him, brown eyes big and sympathetic.

  He didn’t want to think about Sonny and Georgia, and he really didn’t want to talk about them. It always made his gut burn. “It’s pretty simple. Some people should never have kids.”

  “Well, they stayed married, that has to count for something.”

  “Maybe it’s easier to stay married when you have no sense of responsibility.”

  “You have, though, maybe they knew that. You did such a good job raising your sisters. It’s amazing, when I remember how you were with them. How you still are.”

  He shook his head. “You remember wrong. Mostly, I ran the household by bullying the girls into submission.” The memory made him squirm. “No fourteen-year-old boy can do a proper job of parenting. That’s why Karen’s so screwed up now. And look at Anna, out there in la-la land. ”

  After tonight’s performance, he wondered if Anna had more than a little of her parents in her. He was also starting to worry about her marriage.

  “Is that why you don’t want kids? Because you figure you wouldn’t do right by them?”

  She really went for the jugular. He really didn’t want to talk about this. Damn women, anyway. There were the Nemas, who didn’t want conversation at all, and then there were the Tessa’s, who wore a guy’s skin off with talking. He’d far rather she was rubbing it off another way.

  “I’ve never thought about it much. It’s just a gut reaction.” Dangerous zone. Change the subject, Stewart. “Hey, enough about me, Tess. How about you, what about this matchmaker thing, you like it? Is it gonna be a long-term career move?”

  She sank back in her chair and crossed her legs. The skirt hiked up higher and for a minute his mind went blank.

  "Well, before you came along, I was even liking the rough parts.” She didn’t smile, but her eyes were sparkling. “It’s not the way I thought it would be, but there’s always action, it’s got typing legal briefs beat all to heck. So yeah, I really like it.” She gave him an assessing look. “How are you at keeping secrets?”

  “Hey, I’ve got sisters. If I couldn’t keep secrets, I’d be dog meat.”

  She leaned toward him and clasped her hands. “I’m buying the business. Clara is having marital problems, and she’s offered to sell to me.”

  “Well, congratulations. That’s a big step, buying a business.”

  “I’m a little nervous about it, and I’d like to talk to your office person to see about getting a computer. I’m gonna modernize the business, I’ve got so many good ideas—” she stopped and bit her lip. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this; after all, you’re a client.”

  Not for long. “I’m also a friend, I’m honored you’d confide in me.” How was that for gentlemanly? Even when he was feeling more and more like jumping her, right here in his sister’s kitchen. On the table. Or the floor, the floor was fine. Although there was the couch.

  “Eric, you know so much about running a business, and I do need advice. How’d you build yours into what it is today?”

  He didn’t answer right away, because he had to stop thinking about having sex with her first. “I’m not exactly a billionaire yet.” He planned to be, though. “I guess I just took advantage of every opportunity that came along, took chances, lived on the edge.” It was strange to try and put it into words. He hadn’t really had a plan, not in the beginning. “I moved furniture, cleaned up apartments nobody else wanted to touch, went door to door asking if there was junk I could take away for a price. I put every cent I made back in. I’ve been careful not to over expand. Bruno’s my accountant, he’s been a big help. He’ll give you financial advice if you need it. I’m going to buy the garage that services my trucks because I can’t find one that’s reliable.” Where had that come from? He’d never told anybody that little dream.

  “I worked out of my apartment until I could afford the big lot I’m on now. I found people I could trust and paid them what they’re worth. When do you want to come down and meet Henry? He’ll find you the best deal in town on a computer.” While Gladys does a number cross-examining you.

  She shrugged. It made her breasts push against her shirt. “I’m running Synchronicity alone, I can’t just close it during office hours and take off.”

  “We’re open tomorrow. Saturdays are big days for yard cleanup.” He remembered Nicols. “I’ll be there after the funeral.” Usually he didn’t work on weekends anymore, but if she was coming, he was going.

  She frowned and thought about it. “I probably should go to the funeral, too. For Karen, for emotional support. Then I’ll come over to your office afterward, if that’s okay.”

  “Very okay. You want me to come and get you, take you to the chapel with us?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll bring my car; it’s easier that way.”

  He found a paper and scribbled down the address, gave it to her, and for an instant he felt the tiniest bit grateful to Jimmy. She wasn’t exactly dating him yet, but this was a star
t.

  “Eric? Hi, Tessa.” Karen, wrapped in a tattered blue terry robe, leaned on the doorframe. Her face was pale, her eyes dazed and glassy. ‘"Where are the boys?”

  “Hey, Karo, you okay?” Eric got to his feet and went over to his sister, wrapping a supporting arm around her. “Bruno has the kids at the park. Tessa came by to see you but you were having a nap. She brought you those flowers. You hungry?”

  Karen spotted the tulips. “Oh, they’re gorgeous. I always loved tulips, you remembered, Tessa.” She tried to smile, but her face crumbled and she started to cry instead. “I’m—sorry, I—I just can’t—”

  “Ahhh, Karen.” Tessa hurried over and wrapped her arms around Karen. Eric took his own arm away, but he was close enough to smell Tessa’s perfume and her hair, close enough to be surprised at the powerful hum she generated just under his skin. He wanted those long, strong arms around him.

  “I’m so sorry you’re not feeling good,” Tessa crooned. “This isn’t a good time. I’m going to go home and then another time we can talk, and if there’s anything at all I can do, you just let me know, okay?”

  Karen nodded.

  Tessa went to the closet to get her coat. There was this incredible sweetness to the woman, when she wanted to let it show. Eric didn’t want her to go. “Stay and have something to eat with us? I make gourmet scrambled eggs.”

  She smiled at him and shook her head. “Thanks, but Karen needs time alone with you.” She picked up her handbag. “Bye, Karen.” She looked his way and their eyes met. “See you tomorrow, Eric.”

  Something hot went zinging back and forth between them, and there was more color in her cheeks when she finally looked away.

  Then the door closed behind her, and he felt a sharp disappointment, a sense of loss and emptiness. He was missing her, and she hadn’t been gone five minutes. What the hell was that about? He didn’t go around missing women. He was usually relieved when they walked out the door. Mind you, that was after they’d screwed his brains out. He really needed to get Tessa started doing that so he could stop missing her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  His absence is good company

  Eric sat Karen down with coffee while he scrambled them both some eggs and toasted bread. While he devoured his and Karen moved hers listlessly back and forth on her plate, he told her about the plan he and the others had come up with.

  “Oh, Eric.” She dropped her fork and started shaking her head no. She put her hands over her face. She started to cry again, harsh, tearing sobs that hurt his heart.

  He held her, and his spirits sank. They’d have to come up with plan B, because obviously A wasn’t going to work.

  “Hey, sweet pea, you don’t have to go, it’s only an idea.”

  She rubbed at her bleary, bloodshot eyes and then looked straight at him. “I—I do have to go, my life is a mess. I don’t know what to do about it anymore, this might give me a chance to figure it out.” She hiccupped. “I’m—I’m crying because it’s such a fantastic thing, such a generous, good thing, and I’ve—Oh, Eric, I’m so scared. I’ve been scared for so long. Oh, Eric, thank you.” She flung her arms around his neck, holding on as if he were the only solid object left in the universe.

  He patted her back and let her cry. He lifted the tail of his shirt a couple of times to dry her face off. This type of female tears was productive, he’d learned that much from his sisters. He’d learned quite a lot from them, when you came right down to it.

  Relief spilled through him. It was going to be all right. Karen was going to get better. Anna wasn’t going to get any worse. Tessa was beginning to like him. There was no need for a costly divorce because they’d cremate Jimmy Nicols in the morning and that would be the end of that chapter.

  Yes, sir, his life was swinging around to near normal again. He could just feel it happening.

  Sitting in the small chapel at Jimmy’s funeral, Karen wondered if she’d ever feel normal again. She wasn’t totally wrecked the way she’d been yesterday, but she was shaky, inside and out. She’d decided against bringing the boys because they barely remembered Jimmy. Granted, there was no casket to upset them. He’d been cremated so this was more of a memorial service, and a short one at that, but still, she figured it was better that they weren’t here. Sophie had taken them swimming.

  There weren’t many people present. There was Eric, Bruno, Anna, her. And Tessa. Karen was touched that Tessa would come. And the man who’d been with Jimmy that night at the pub, along with two other men, probably from the docks where Jimmy worked. He hadn’t made many friends in his life, and he’d had no relatives.

  They’d sung a hymn, and the resident pastor said a prayer, and then read a psalm, and then he said, “Does anyone want to say a few words about the deceased?”

  Awkward silence stretched, and he cleared his throat.

  “Then we’ll repeat the Twenty-Third Psalm—”

  Karen was on her feet, wondering how she’d gotten there, walking to the front, turning around to face her family, her friend. She was shaking so hard she could hardly stand up, and she wondered if her voice would work at all.

  “Jimmy—” her voice trembled and her chin wobbled, and she tried again. “Jimmy was my husband,” she managed. “Because of him I have two sons, and Anna says—” she looked at her sister, and it helped. Anna smiled at her and nodded encouragement, and after a moment Karen was able to go on, figuring it out as she went.

  “Anna says there aren’t any accidents, that people come into our lives as teachers for us, even when the things they teach us aren’t, ummmm, very happy.” She sniffled. Her tissues were in her bag, on the chair. Her nose was running, but she made herself go on. “I think that’s what Jimmy was for me, a teacher. I’m not sure yet just what I was supposed to learn, and it’s hard to thank somebody who’s”—she almost lost it, but she managed to go on—“who’s hurt you, but I do anyway. I thank him for Simon and Ian.” She started to cry, and everyone got up and surrounded her, and the piped-in organ music started, and then it was over.

  Tessa was still crying off and on as she drove over to Junk Busters. Karen might be having problems, but she sure had guts. And she also had a family who stood by her. She’d watched Eric hold his sister in his arms, use his handkerchief to wipe away her tears, kiss her and whisper something in her ear that brought a tiny shaky smile.

  And then he’d come over to Tessa and given her a big hug, and there was that sensation again, the one she had every time she was around him, like every last one of her endorphins were being released, but the little buggers were directionally challenged, heading straight for her groin instead of her brain.

  “Thanks for coming, Tess,” he’d said, giving her that blue-eyed whammo look. “It means a lot to all of us. We’re taking Karen home now. Bruno and Anna are gonna spend the day with her. See you at the office in a while?”

  She’d managed to nod. Eric in a black suit, cream shirt, and blue tie was a heart-stopping sight. He ought to carry a dangerous goods sticker. But beneath the image, there was the substance, and that was what was starting to really bother her.

  She was being forced to see him differently than she had before. She didn’t want to, she wanted him to be shallow and selfish, a womanizer who trampled on female hearts as if they were grapes.

  Instead, she kept seeing a hero. She was reverting straight back to herself at eight, twelve, fourteen, when he’d been her best friend’s big brother, the guy who drove her and Karen to their first school dance in his beat up old Ford pickup, the one who caught them smoking in Karen’s room. Instead of bawling them out, he’d made them finish the entire pack, and they’d both been deathly sick as a result. She hadn’t smoked again for years. Why the hell she’d ever started—but she knew why, she remembered why.

  It was the first week after her wedding, when she woke up in the morning beside her new husband, feeling warm and sensual and loving. She’d put her arms around him, snuggled into his back, touched him down there. He
’d removed her hand, then slid out of bed.

  “It’s not a good idea in the morning,” he’d said, as if he was chastising a child, and Tessa knew right then she’d made a gigantic mistake. She got up, pulled on clothing. She walked to the corner grocery and bought a carton of cigarettes. Gordon hated women who smoked.

  Gordon was long gone, and she was now a nonsmoker again. For two whole days, she hadn’t succumbed. Each time she was tempted; she’d visualized kissing Eric and having him gag at the taste.

  Tessa blew her nose as she turned into the side street where Junk Busters was. The sign on the gate was strange, obviously made from reclaimed material. The words JUNK BUSTERS INC., formed out of thick cable, were welded to what looked like old iron bedposts. There were three huge disposal trucks parked in bays at the back of the property, and dozens of bins. A covered storage area held neat stacks of sorted metal. The office was unimpressive from the outside, a single-story brown brick rectangle.

  She parked, tried to fix her smeary eye makeup, and finally gave up and went in. The small space was carpeted in what looked like indoor-outdoor industrial gray. The only items not strictly utilitarian were an enormous jade plant on an upturned barrel in one corner, a huge stylized green-and-neon-pink satin fish suspended from the ceiling in the other corner, and a television on a portable stand, tuned to a soap opera. There was also a really ugly lamp, made out of twisted pieces of metal, with a hubcap for a shade. Eric hadn’t spent much on interior design.

  A tiny Asian woman in a purple tracksuit sat behind a desk. She had a telephone clamped to her right ear, but her eyes were glued to the TV.

  “You tell him we’ll do job, real good price,” she was saying in a singsong voice. She raised a hand and waved at Tessa without looking her way. “Best deal in town, you tell him. He’s crazy go anyplace else.”

 

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