One in a Million

by Susan Mallery

  “You sound cynical.”

  “No, just practical. See? I’m learning in my old age.”

  “But what about the yummy artist? Where does he fit in with practicality?”

  “He doesn’t.” Kenzie sighed wistfully. “We both came to that conclusion last Saturday. I’m about to move out of the apartment complex, you know.”

  “Yeah, but you won’t be living that far apart. If you really wanted to date—”

  “That’s just it—we don’t.”

  “I saw the way you two looked at each other! You like him. And he’s surprisingly good with the kids. Did I mention yummy? Is it that you don’t want the same things?”

  Actually, they did want the same thing: security. Kenzie needed stability for herself and her kids, and JT was desperately trying to safeguard himself against possible hurts.

  “Ann, he’s just now returning to his life and career after getting over his wife. He doesn’t plan to ever really get involved with anyone else, but if he does…well, he’s going to need someone with a lot of patience, a lot of extra time and TLC. Meanwhile, I have two kids, one of whom is increasingly angry and confused and in need of a lot of extra attention himself. JT’s great. I wish him well, but trust me, there’s no future for the two of us.”

  Ann thought this over, staring intently at the cutting board. “What about a present?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “What if, instead of obsessing about the possible future or dwelling on the hurts of your past, you two just concentrated on the present? Being happy today. You both deserve that much.”

  “Live for today?” Kenzie shot her sister a gently teasing grin. “What kind of radical thinking is that? What happened to carefully planning ahead? That’s what got you where you are now.”

  “Yes and no. Forrest and I spent a lot of time preparing, planning, strategizing ways for him to get ahead at the college, when the best time to have a baby might be. Sure, most of our organizing has paid off, but somewhere along the way we forgot to enjoy the here and now. Forgot to enjoy each other.” Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “We’re working hard to make the time to do that.”

  “And no one’s happier about that than me—”

  “Especially since you got your apartment back.” Ann smirked.

  “No comment.”

  Just then, a rap at the sliding glass door drew their attention. Kenzie’s son stood on the other side. When he saw that he had his mom’s eye, he slapped a hand to his forehead and pantomimed being dizzy and weak from hunger, eventually “passing out” on Ann’s porch.

  Ann laughed. “Think he’s trying to tell us something?”

  “Let’s get the burgers that are ready outside before rioting begins.” She lifted two paper plates and headed for the door.

  “Kenzie?” Her sister’s voice stalled her. “We don’t have to keep talking about it, especially not with the kids around, but will you think about what I said?”

  “Sure.” It was an easy promise to make. After all, she’d thought about JT and the way he made her feel every day since she’d walked out of his apartment.

  A better question than would she think about him was how did she go about forgetting him?

  At the heavy footfalls behind her, Kenzie’s heart sank. She kept her eyes on the lit elevator button, hoping for the best. Even though she’d heard the door open at the far end of the hall, that didn’t necessarily mean JT was approaching. Maybe it was Sean or another acquaintance.... But by the time the man stopped behind her, she was already reacting to the subtle scent of his cologne and the familiar warmth of his body.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  Curse her laziness; she’d been doing a great job of avoiding her neighbor, and if she’d only taken the stairs instead of waiting around for the elevator, she could have spared herself this encounter.

  “Hi.” She gave him a feeble smile over her shoulder. Even that one brief glance shredded her willpower. He looked fantastic. More than anything, she wanted to reach out and touch him. Hold him and ask how he was doing, kiss him and let him know how much his continued tutoring meant to her son.

  She felt so on edge that she almost jumped at the sound of the ding. They filed into the elevator together, and she couldn’t help thinking of the night they’d returned from their gallery date, when JT had grabbed her the second the doors closed and they’d spent the duration of the brief trip locked in each other’s arms.

  Her breath quickened.

  “You okay?” JT frowned. “I didn’t think you were claustrophobic.”

  “I’m fine. Just…a lot on my mind. Getting ready for the move and all.” With the closing next Tuesday, she had taken this afternoon off work for the final walk-through of the house. It was a routine check to verify that everything she and the sellers had agreed on after the inspection had been addressed, and that no undisclosed last-minute damage had occurred to the property.

  JT nodded. “Drew mentioned that you guys have started packing. Or, more specifically, that you’ve started assembling boxes and have been on his case about packing.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I—whoa, what was that?”

  The elevator had jerked to a halt with some kind of screeching metal-on-metal sound.

  “Good question.” After a second, he added, “I think we might be stuck.”

  “What? No!” She heard the panicky note in her own voice. “I—I have a scheduled walk-through I have to get to.” More to the point, being trapped in a small space with JT was—heavenly—her idea of hell.

  “Hang on.” He hit an intercom button labeled Emergency. “Hello? Anybody out there? This is Jonathan Trelauney. We’re stuck in the elevator.”

  A moment passed, then there was the crackle of static. “JT?” Mr. C.’s voice had never sounded so good. “Don’t you worry, I’ll check out the problem and see if we can get you going again in a jiffy.”

  If he could manage it in the next five minutes, Kenzie thought wildly, she’d send him an enormous gift basket as a goodbye.

  “Great, Kenzie and I would appreciate it.”

  “She in there, too?” Mr. C. asked. “When do your kids get home from school, hon? I can have Mrs. Sanchez meet them in the lobby and take them to her apartment if you’re still in there.”

  It made Kenzie smile to have someone else worry about her children. “Thanks, Mr. C.,” she called past JT’s shoulder, “but Alicia’s staying with them this afternoon anyway, because I have an errand to run. Besides, they won’t be here for another hour. We’ll be out by then, right?”

  That was answered with silence. Then an upbeat, “I’ll do my best.”

  Gulp. She couldn’t handle being in this elevator with JT for sixty minutes—not without losing her mind, entertaining some seriously adult fantasies or both. She sat against the back wall of the elevator.

  JT leaned against the short wall to her left. “If this were a movie, we’d probably bounce up and down to get the elevator moving again.”

  She was so not bouncing up and down in front of JT.

  “Or we’d try the trapdoor on the elevator ceiling,” he continued. “That’s always a popular escape route in cinema.”

  She smiled. “I didn’t realize you were such a film buff.”

  “Only recently. I had some friends in college who did indie movies that I supported, but I haven’t paid attention to what was in theaters in years. Earlier this summer I went through a period of insomnia and started catching a lot of stuff on cable. Old black-and-white movies, new blockbusters, action flicks…marathons of makeover shows,” he admitted sheepishly.

  A guffaw escaped her. “Really? You and Leslie could watch them together. That’s her favorite television.” It had been a stupid thing to say, of course. As of next week,
Leslie and Drew wouldn’t see JT anymore. And neither will I.

  She wasn’t moving to the far side of the moon, but, in this case, it might as well be. If she and JT were different people committed to trying to make a relationship work, it would be worth the traffic and distance, fitting him between the kids and getting settled in their new home and community. But the last time she’d been alone with this man, he’d point-blank told her that he was looking forward to her being gone, that he just wasn’t ready to share his heart.

  She fell silent, but it wasn’t a relaxed silence. Half the time she could feel his gaze on her; the other half, he was trying too hard not to look at her. But aside from each other, there wasn’t much else to occupy their interest. Neither of their cells worked inside the elevator. She read and reread the inspection notice and safety code information. Finally she realized she did have something to say—it was just painfully embarrassing to figure out how.

  “JT? I thought, in case it was something you were worried about, that you should know I…” Spit it out. The man’s seen you naked, for crying out loud. Strangely, that thought didn’t soothe her. “Last week, well, I’m definitely not pregnant.”

  He blinked at her, as if first trying to figure out what she was talking about, then nodding vigorously. “Oh. Good. Thanks for, um, letting me know.”

  “You betcha.” This felt like the most absurd conversation she’d ever had. And she’d spent entire days with chatty twins. “Would it be obnoxious of us to check back with Mr. C. and find out what’s taking so long?”

  “I just hope he doesn’t mention our predicament to Mrs. Sanchez,” JT grumbled. “She’d try to talk him into some crazed notion of not rescuing us, so we could have more time together. She brought over dinner last Friday and chewed my ear off about letting you leave.”

  “‘Letting me’?” As an independent woman, Kenzie didn’t know if she should be appalled or amused.

  “I know, I know. She harbors some old-fashioned idea about how I’m supposed to stop you from following your own path by declaring my—” He broke off suddenly, clearing his throat. “She’s a meddling busybody.”

  “But you love her anyway.”

  He looked Kenzie in the eye. “Against my better judgment, yeah, I do.”

  A lump of emotion swelled up in her throat, making it momentarily impossible for her to speak. Which was probably just as well. Now that she and JT were safely platonic again, why admit anything she might regret later? Then again, an internal imp demanded, you move next week, so what do you have to lose by speaking up now?

  “I do have my own path to follow,” she told him. “But I’ll always be glad about the side detour to Peachy Acres. I…I’ve come to care about you a lot. I’ll miss you. All three of us will miss you.”

  He bent forward to grab her hand and squeeze it. She held on as tightly as she could.

  Then Mr. C.’s voice boomed through the intercom. “Okay, folks, the bad news is we can’t get the elevator started again right now. So we’re going to pry open the doors and pull you out. You’ve stopped just below the second floor. We’ll help you out and let you take the stairs down.”

  Kenzie stood, staring at the doors that would soon open. When they did, she and JT would each go their own way.

  JT rose, too, reaching for the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a worn leather wallet. The business card he handed her was a plain white rectangle, but each line of information, JONATHAN TRELAUNEY, ARTIST along with his phone number and email address, were printed in a different font and color.

  “You are one of the most capable people I’ve ever met,” he said. “For months, I’ve been trying to figure out how to best take care of myself, and you’re single-handedly taking care of a family of three, along with miscellaneous relatives who have problems of their own and some crazy guy who lives across the hall.”

  She laughed at that. “I’m not sure my sister qualifies as ‘miscellaneous’ or that I’ve done anything for you. Quite the reverse, actually.”

  “We’ll just agree to disagree about that. As capable as you are, I doubt you need others often, but if you ever need anything…”

  “Thank you.” Touched, she closed her fingers over the card.

  Outside, she could hear Mr. C. and someone else working to pull back the doors. Lightning fast, she stretched up one last time and pressed a final kiss to JT’s lips. Then she sprang back. Moments later, Mr. C. and the building’s college student managed to get the doors far enough open that Kenzie thought she’d just be able to squeeze through.

  “You go on ahead,” JT said chivalrously. “You have that house inspection. I won’t be able to make it through something that narrow, but I’m in no hurry.”

  He went down on one knee in front of the opening, letting her use the other leg for a boost. Mr. C. and the younger man reached down and helped pull her through. Once free of the elevator, she thanked all three of them and hurried to the stairwell.

  She couldn’t help thinking of how she’d first met JT here. As he’d helped her pick up her slightly muddied belongings and decapitated panda bear, his expression unsmiling and his sheer size imposing, she never could have imagined the warm, caring man who would become an accidental but important part of her and the children’s lives. At the bottom stair, she glanced back up, but she wasn’t sure why. After all, there was nothing to see here and she had someplace to be.

  Her Perfect House and pragmatically planned future awaited.

  Chapter 16

  “Mom? Earth to Mom?” Drew snapped his fingers, looking across the kitchen table at Leslie. “What’s that word you used the other day? Something about cat comas?”

  After a second’s thought, Leslie was able to translate. “Catatonic.”

  “Yeah. I think she’s that,” he said. “Maybe Alicia should have stayed to look after us tonight. Mom may have been turned into a pod person.”

  Kenzie set her fork down on her plate and gazed at her son. Between discussing stories with his sister and JT’s artistic influence, Drew’s imagination seemed to be taking on a life of its own lately. “I am not a pod person. I was thinking about the house.”

  “Is it as gorgeous as you remember?” Leslie asked dreamily.

  “Um…” Was it? She’d had a weird vibe during her walk-through this afternoon. The front yard looked majestic, but she’d suddenly panicked over not only the monthly check she’d have to write for the modest acreage, but the upkeep required. In the gleaming, spacious kitchen with its modern flat-top stove, she’d had the sense that the room seemed…a little sterile and without personality. She glanced up from her kitchen table now, enjoying the comfy warmth of the place. They weren’t living in a mansion, but they were living well within their means. You’re just having last-minute cold feet. Perfectly normal.

  But what if next week the cold feet became buyer’s remorse, and it was too late to do anything about it?

  “Oh, who wants to hear about the house?” Drew said impatiently. “We’ll be there soon and can look at it as much as we want. I wanted to tell Mom about what happened at school today.”

  Pride filled Kenzie. Over the past two weeks, Drew had become more and more engaged. He had a small group of friends he mentioned regularly, and he’d fallen into the habit of sharing weird facts he’d learned in social studies or science. “What happened?”

  “First, I got a B on that test yesterday, and it was really hard, too. But also, Mrs. Frazer talked about how we’re going to have fine-arts week in November, and I told her I knew a local artist who’s famous and everything. I don’t think she believed me at first, but she’s heard of JT. She was impressed! I told her JT would come talk to our class, and now I’m, like, her favorite kid. She asked me to bring in one of the paintings I’ve done to discuss during art week.”

  Kenzie’s
mind went blank. On the one hand, it was thrilling for a mother to have her son so enthusiastic about school, and she didn’t want to dampen what he was feeling right now. On the other, he couldn’t just go around volunteering adults—especially not that adult—for class events. She’d expected the move to provide a clean break between JT and her family. It was surprising to realize it might be more complicated than that.

  “Mom?” he pressed. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Absolutely, and great job getting that B! But, sweetheart, we don’t know if JT will be available to come to your classroom.”

  “I’ll ask him tonight,” Drew said matter-of-factly. “I’m supposed to go over there after dinner. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  “Maybe not, but… You know we won’t be seeing much of JT after we move, right?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. Couldn’t I still come and paint with him after school? You could just drive over and get me, then take me home.”

  “That will take forever,” Leslie complained. “I don’t want to be stuck at the house waiting for you guys to come home at night.”

  “Drew, you told me he was working on a new abstract series. That will probably take up more of his time. And Leslie’s right, it won’t be convenient to slog through evening rush hour once we live in the opposite direction. Atlanta traffic is totally different from Raindrop’s.”

  “It doesn’t have to be every day,” he wheedled. “Just sometimes. Can we at least ask JT about it? He likes having me around.”

  “I’ll tell you what, let’s drop that for now, but you can go ahead and ask him about November. Please don’t be disappointed or angry if he says no.”

  “I won’t, but I’m sure he’ll say yes! JT’s the type of guy you can count on.” Drew carried his empty plate to the sink. “I’m going over to decide what to do for art week. Knowing Mrs. Frazer, she’ll want a painting that manages a ‘dialogue’ or something. I think she’s a little nuts.”

  Kenzie could empathize. Her world wasn’t making as much sense these days, either.