by Milly Taiden
Walking through the open door, I coughed and waved the smoke away from my face as I headed toward the stove.
Without introducing myself, I said, “You forgot to open the flue.”
The woman stood at the kitchen sink, trying to open the window, and jumped at the sound of my voice.
“Cheesy Rice and Joseph!” she shouted and turned to face me, clutching her hand to her chest. “Who the fuck are you?”
Leaning over, I swung the lever to open the flue on the chimney stack. “I’m the neighbor. Who the fuck are you? Cause I know this isn’t your house.”
With the doors and windows open the room began to clear of smoke, but the smoke alarm continued its piercing cadence. Where the hell was the damn thing? I stared at the ceiling and followed the beeping until I spied the red-lighted beast in the hallway. I reached up and knocked it from its perch, removed the batteries, and set it on the kitchen counter.
“Ah, silence,” I said. Observing the woman, I noticed she had wrapped her blanket weapon around her shoulders. Sticking out below the blanket I could see a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and mismatched socks. “You going to tell me who you are and what you are doing in my friend’s house? Or am I going to call the sheriff?”
She tightened the throw around her shoulders and glared at me, but not before I noticed her eyes linger at my waist and my jeans hanging off my hips.
I smiled at her to let her know I’d caught her staring before closing my jeans.
She didn’t blush or glance away, but continued to glare at me. “Do you always barge into people’s homes at the crack of dawn?”
“I do when the alarm wakes me up and smoke fills the air.” I crossed my arms and waited.
“I’m renting the place for a few months. Arrived on the ferry last night.”
She didn’t tell me her name. Nope, definitely not from around here.
“Well, that explains what you are doing here, but not who you are. I’ll go first. I’m John Day. I live next door. The yellow lab out on the deck is Babe. Your turn.”
“Diane. Diane Watson. Well, Woodley, but Watson soon.”
“Nice to meet you, Diane Woodley-but-Watson-soon. Is that hyphenated?” I stuck out my hand to shake hers, figuring it was the polite thing to do.
She laughed, but it sounded hollow, not a real laugh. Somehow the smile didn’t reach her brown eyes. She shook my hand and said, “Just Woodley. Watson is my maiden name. I’m thinking of changing it back.”
“No more Mr. Woodley?” I asked.
She scowled. “No more Mr. Woodley. Or there won’t be soon enough.”
“If you are planning on murdering your husband, don’t tell me. I don’t want to be an accessory. I’m here to open the flue and prevent you from burning down my friend’s house.” I smiled at her. “Plus, it’s way too early to hear all the gory details of your personal life.”
She laughed this time and it was real. “No, no murder. Not that it hasn’t crossed my mind. Sorry about the smoke detector. I thought I knew how to build a fire. The fire part I figured out, but not the flue. Obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“Thanks for coming over and saving the day.”
“No problem. I keep an eye on the house for Maggie, it’s what neighbors do around here.” I surveyed the quiet beach. “In January, not many of us live down here on the beach, we have to band together.”
“I appreciate it. I’d hate to have the fire department show up on my first morning here. Sorry to wake you so early. I guess I’m still on east coast time.”
“Honestly, no problem. Nice to meet you,” I said, backing toward the door. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. You probably want to change out the batteries on all the detectors. Who knows the last time Maggie changed them.”
She looked forlorn standing alone in the living room with the blanket falling off her shoulders. The Soon-to-be-not-Woodley blinked at me before remembering her manners.
“It was nice to meet you. I don’t know anyone on the island, so it’s nice to meet my neighbor. I hope to see you around again.”
“You probably will. Island’s a small place, and the beach especially. Give a holler if you need anything.” I turned when I opened the door. “And don’t forget to open the flue when you start a fire.”
She seemed embarrassed, but smiled. “Thanks, John.”
I gave her a wave and headed back over to the house with Babe on my heels. It was weird to have someone besides Maggie living in the cabin. Diane appeared nice enough, but she was no fiery redhead like Maggie.
I crawled back into bed after shedding my jeans. Kelly rolled over and curled into my side, mumbling about barking dogs and smoke. I stayed awake for a while, thinking about the woman next door and the expression on her face as if she didn’t have a friend in the world. I’d have to text Maggie later to let her know about the wood stove. And find out more about her new tenant with the sad eyes.
***
CHAPTER TWO
An hour later I woke up alone and smelling of smoke. Wood smoke to be specific. When I stirred, Babe shook his collar, rattling his tags to indicate he wanted out. Glancing around the room, I didn’t see any signs of Kelly. No note, nothing of hers left behind. Her perfume lingering on the pillows reminded me she slept here last night, but the scent of smoke overpowered the sweetness of her. Right. Maggie’s new tenant almost burned down the cabin earlier. I needed to call Mags and tell her she rented her place to a potential pyro.
Stretching, I scratched down my chest. I let my fingers wander the path of hair from my pecs down over my stomach. Morning wood lay heavy against my hip, but I had no inclination to do anything with it. Kelly kept me more than satisfied last night. One thing always clicked with us. Sex. I’m sure we had other things in common, but it was too early in the day to try to remember what they were.
Coffee and a shower were needed. I rolled over to peer at the clock. 6:00. Kelly got up and out of here early. It was Wednesday. I knew she had to commute to her salon over in town. She might stay over a few nights a week, but still had her condo in Seattle. We didn’t live together. Far from it.
Speaking of work, I needed to drive up to the job site after stopping in the office this morning. I would have to call Maggie from the road.
The coffee machine dripped a steady stream of dark, nearly black liquid into the pot while I shoveled a bowl of cereal into my mouth, staring out at the bay. The water reflects the same slate gray as the sky. Across the water clouds hung low, obscuring the mountains and much beyond the immediate shoreline. As I swallowed the last bite of cereal, my gaze settled on a note on the counter in Kelly’s handwriting:
“Don’t forget dinner with my parents tonight in Coupeville.”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes. Dinner with the parents. How the fuck did we get to the point of dinner with the parents in a few short months? It wasn’t like I’d never met them before. The joys of growing up on the island. You knew everyone. Kelly’s brother, Mark, played on the varsity soccer team with me. I’d known the Gordons since I was fourteen. Fourteen, all limbs with big hands and feet. I had an early growth spurt, but couldn’t put on muscle to save my life. Gangly. That’s what my mother called me. Awkward was more like it. No wonder Kelly never gave me the time of day in high school. Obsessed with soccer, I lived and breathed making All-State as a goalie. I definitely hadn’t perfected my flirting ability back then. Amazing what a summer of weight training before college could do for a guy’s image and confidence. I smiled at the memory of showing up for training camp at college fifteen pounds of muscle heavier.
I ran my hand over my beard and then scratched the back of my head, snapping myself back to the present. Dinner with the parents. Kelly and I hadn’t had one of those “talks” where we confessed our feelings and planned for the future. What was up with this parent shit?
The coffeemaker sputtered out the last of the brew and went quiet. Grabbing one of my travel mugs, I filled it and set it next to my keys. I had t
ime for a quick shower before leaving. No time to dwell on Kelly and dinner plans.
Babe rode shotgun next to me in the truck. The roads sparkled with ice, but it would thaw. It wasn’t raining, but more than a mist. According to the LED on the review mirror, the outside temp hovered at freezing. That meant we could finish clearing out the first site today. Not ideal work conditions for logging, but not the worst. I was glad I wasn’t still a grunt out there in the woods every day. Sure I got sawdust on my boots, but being management had its perks.
After pulling into the parking lot, I dialed Maggie’s cell. I figured I’d leave her a voicemail since she rarely remembered to keep it with her.
“Hi,” she answered after the second ring. Startled she picked up, I forgot to speak. “Hello?”
“Hey. Hey there, Maggie. It’s John.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I said hi. What’s up? Cabin okay?”
“Why do you think it’s about the cabin? Can’t I just call to see how you’re doing?”
“Want to talk about your love life? Or mine?” she asked, laughter breaking up the last of her words.
I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me. “Yeah. Sure. How’s whatshisface?”
“You know his name is Gil. You’ve hung out. And Gil is fine. Portland’s great. Writing is going well. It’s nice to be amongst the living during the winter months.”
“Are you calling the islanders zombies? You’ve only been gone a month.”
“Everyone grunting greetings and shuffling around in their fleece and rain boots makes me think of zombies. I forgot how much I missed the city. Whidbey can be so quiet in the gray months. ”
“Glad you’re happy, Mags. Us zombies miss you.”
“You do? That’s sweet. How’s Kelly? The two of you still fooling around in my outdoor shower?”
I blanked for a minute. There was no way she could know I used her outdoor shower. I always double and triple checked to make sure nothing was left behind.
“Aha! Your silence tells me everything,” she said. “I suspected you borrowed it from time to time, but now I know there’ve been shenanigans. John Day, you are a Romeo.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was good to talk to her. I missed our morning coffees. I told her as much.
“I miss you, too. Biscuit misses the beach. He’s not bulimic anymore now that he’s not drinking seawater. And he pines for Babe. I think they had a real bromance going on there.”
“Well, you won’t be gone forever. Speaking of the cabin, how long will you be away?”
“Until May. Gil and I are going to move back for the summer after his semester finishes. Have you met Diane yet? I meant to tell you she’d be arriving this week.”
“Yeah, met her this morning, in fact. That’s why I’m calling. She almost lit the place on fire when she didn’t open the flue. Set off the smoke detector and filled the downstairs with smoke.”
Maggie sighed. “Ugh. Seriously? Honestly, I can’t blame her too much. She’s a city girl. Probably never lit a wood stove before today. So you went over and saved the damsel in distress, huh? I’m sure she swooned all over the big, hunky neighbor rushing in to save the day,” she said before falling into a fit of giggles.
“Sounds about right. Although, there was no swooning. She acted pretty put out by some strange man bursting into the house. What’s her deal anyway? Not the friendliest of types.”
“I don’t know her to be honest. Quinn and Ryan knew the cabin would be empty and asked if a friend/client/patient of theirs could rent it for the winter.”
“Ah, New Yorker. Should have guessed by the attitude and stranger danger,” I said. “Figures.”
“From what I got out of Ryan, she’s going through an ugly divorce. The ex-husband is a finance guy, lots of money and mistresses apparently. She was totally blindsided and still might be reeling.”
The pieces dropped into place as Maggie spoke. The defensive posture, the hopeless expression. The mismatched socks. Emotional wreck. Danger.
“You should be nice to her. I’m sure she could use a friend on the island as she recovers. She can be the new me. Maybe less flirting, though.”
“She could never replace you, Maggie.”
“You’re sweet. I knew there was a reason I liked you. Be friendly. Bring her fish. Chop some wood for her. Take off your shirt and give her a show while you do it. She might be anti-love, but no woman is anti-eyecandy.”
I had to laugh. “Right. Bring her wood, give her a show. Got it. I’ll be her dancing bear in a tutu. Anything else?”
“Do you own a tutu?” Maggie asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I’m guessing no unless Kelly is into role playing. And my gut tells me she isn’t. How are things with her?”
“We’re having dinner with her parents tonight.” I scratched my beard out of habit.
“Oh. Sounds serious. Is it serious?”
“It does sound serious. And it isn’t. Or at least I didn’t think it was. Her divorce isn’t final, how serious could it be?”
“Surrounded by divorcees. Poor John. Maybe she finally knows what she has and doesn’t want to let it slip through her fingers.”
“We’re not you and Gil.”
“Aww, you said his name. I knew you’d come around.” Her happiness echoed in her voice.
I glanced up when Jeff’s truck pulled into the lot a few spaces from mine. “Yeah, he’s not too bad as long as he makes you happy. Listen, I need to get going. I’ll be nice to your tenant. I promise.”
“You’re the best. And thanks for keeping an eye on the place. Give Babe a scratch for me.”
“Will do.” I got out of the cab after saying goodbye. I did miss the woman. I wasn’t going to lie, it stung a little that Gil had come back in her life, but I had Kelly. And dinner with her parents tonight.
Joy.
*
Dinner with the parents didn’t turn out so well. Food tasted fine. The wine her father ordered was fine. Discussing playoff hopes for the Seahawks? All fine. Not until Kelly’s mother brought up her not-so-ex-husband did the dinner go tits up. Turns out the not-so-ex husband was even less ex than I thought. Like lunch last week not-so-ex. Which would be fine, if Kelly had told me herself. Being blindsided by her mother wasn’t. The woman clearly preferred her daughter not divorce Mr. Successful Suit and marry an “island boy”. Wait. No one said anything about marriage. No one was getting married. Right. Because someone was still married and eating sandwiches with her husband.
I remained silent on the drive back to the cabin. So did Kelly. My silence was the result of anger and embarrassment. I made the assumption hers was out of guilt. Or shame. Or both.
What the hell happened?
“John, I meant—”
“Don’t. I don’t care if you and Rick had lunch. Lying about it is what bugs me.”
“I didn’t lie about it,” she said.
“You lied by omission. Not mentioning having a meal with your ex to your boyfriend is lying. Or something. Something not cool.”
“Boyfriend?” she asked.
I glanced at her in the light from the dash. Her eyebrow rose in a question even though she faced the road.
“Well, yeah. What else would I be?”
“We’ve never really talked about it. I thought we were on the same page. Having fun. I’m technically still married.”
Ouch.
“Having fun. Yeah. Having tons of fun. You’re the one who came on to me last summer. Didn’t reveal the little detail of still being married until after we hooked up. Maybe you aren’t ready to not be married.”
“Wow. When you put it like that, I’m the bitch and you’re the good guy. That’s the way you want to see it, fine. I’m the bitch.”
“I have never called you a bitch. This is a lot more complicated than I signed up for. We were having fun … for months. You invited me to have dinner with your parents, whic
h felt like you were saying this is a relationship. You’re giving me mixed signals here, Kelly.”
She sighed and rolled her head from side to side like she was trying to release a knot in her neck. “You’re right. I should have told you. Both about not being divorced and the lunch date. My mind’s a mess. My mother is pressuring me to make up with Rick.”
I asked the question I didn’t want the answer for. “What do you want?” Then I waited.
She sat in silence for a while. The headlights illuminated the dark tunnel of trees flanking the road as we sped along.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Last summer everything was clear in my mind. Rick and I were over. Done. You were a surprise and made everything better. The sex was amazing.”
I noticed she used the past tense. “Don’t you mean is amazing?” I frowned. Sex wasn’t an issue for us. We had it and it was amazing. Is amazing.
“I meant last summer, but yes, it’s still amazing. It’s all the other stuff that’s complicated.”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
“But I like you, John. A lot. I like the time we spend together. I like it all.”
“Yeah, but you can’t have both.” The tires of my truck crunched on the gravel of my small driveway. There was no way I was inviting her back in for the night. I wasn’t going to share her, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the reason her marriage wouldn’t work out. “Looks like you can catch the ten o’clock boat if you hurry. Otherwise you’re going to have to wait for the eleven.” My voice flat, I stared straight ahead for a moment.
She spoke softly, “Okay, I get you’re mad, but can we still talk tonight? Or not talk?”
I didn’t want to talk about this, but I didn’t want to have sex with her either. Not tonight. I felt mad and confused. “Let’s put a rain check on the talk and sex,” I said. I wasn’t sure I meant it, but saying no felt too harsh.
“Great.” She smiled. Sounding more optimistic, she leaned over and said, “I’ll call you this weekend. Maybe we can go for a hike or something.” She kissed my cheek and grabbed my hand, squeezing it before scooting back to her side of the cab.
