What a Woman

by Judi Fennell

  “Deal.” He opened the next box, which turned out to be full of vinyl records. “Oh, man, remember these?”

  And so it went for the rest of the afternoon, one that passed surprisingly quickly. He couldn’t believe all the things Grandma had saved. The things he remembered. The things Mac remembered. She’d been a bigger part of his childhood than he’d realized. Almost as if they were siblings.

  But not.

  A fact that was reiterated over and over when he’d catch a glimpse of her bent over to search the bottom of a particularly big box, or when she’d reached up to untangle an electrical cord from Grandma’s Tiffany lamp and her shirt hiked halfway up her abdomen. His mouth had gone dry at the sight of all that toned skin—and that freaking sexy bellybutton piercing winking ruby red at him from across the room.

  His mind went into overdrive at that. Taking that little dangly thing between his teeth, running his tongue in the dip in her stomach, feeling her muscles flutter with arousal . . .

  One of his in particular was doing that right now.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  That’s what he said . . . “What?”

  Mac’s mouth had dropped open and she held up something round and silver. “Home movies.”

  “Wow. I haven’t seen those in I don’t know how long. We ought to watch them.”

  Mac held them as if they were covered in garlic or something. “I think you should have them transferred to DVDs for your grandmother. That’d be a great Christmas present. Just think how much she’d love to see your grandfather in these.”

  He was thinking that. He’d never known his grandfather. He’d like to see his grandfather in them.

  “I wonder if there’s a projector up here.” He scanned the space. “Do you see anything that might be one?”

  “No.” She set the metal canister down and brushed her hands. “But Gran might have one. I’ll check when I go home tonight.”

  “You’re going home?”

  “I thought that was the plan? Do you really need me to stay? After sifting through all this stuff, I don’t think the kittens will be much of a challenge.”

  That wasn’t why he wanted her to stay.

  Which was precisely the reason she ought to go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  MAC picked up the latest round of neighborly treats—complete with offers of another type of treat—from the table she’d placed beside the front door after she’d tripped on her way out last night over the bottle of wine she and Jared hadn’t guessed.

  For a moment, she’d been bummed. No dinner bet payoff. Then again, that was a good thing. She shouldn’t have made the bet in the first place because dinner out with Jared like that would be weird.

  This morning’s offering was homemade apple pie. With a little toothpick flag right in the middle with Sherisse’s name and phone number.

  And of course, like every single other woman (or was that every other single woman?), she’d put the thing in an expensive serving container, which meant it had to be returned, ensuring at least one conversation with Jared.

  Mac shrugged and unlocked the door. She didn’t get these dating tactics, but, hey, she wasn’t going to turn down a piece of apple pie. Especially since dinner was out.

  She set the extension mop against the grandfather clock, then checked on the kittens in the pen in the parlor before heading into the kitchen.

  It was a mess. There were towels hanging off the back of every chair, one hanging off the wall phone, a couple draped over the cabinet doorknobs, and two hung with thumbtacks from the doorframe to the mudroom door.

  Then there were the paper towels crinkled up all over the floor, looking like someone had used them for shoes, the trash can was overflowing, and there was a pile of kitten food on the drain board beside the sink. Probably explained the rug missing from the parlor.

  No wonder the kittens were asleep. From the looks of this, Jared should be as well.

  But then she heard thumping from upstairs, so she did a quick cleanup, tossing everything into a trash bag or laundry basket, started a load, then took the trash out before heading up to help him out. She really hoped they’d find Mildred’s ring today because yesterday’s trip down memory lane hadn’t been her idea of fun.

  Oh sure, she’d smiled at all the right places, poured fake enthusiasm into every find, but the reality was, every time she saw something from her childhood, she remembered the moment attached to it. And invariably, those moments—if they weren’t about her parents—had something to do with Jared. Not banner times in her life.

  Then the home movies she’d found . . . She’d nudged Mildred’s projector under a table and rearranged a drop cloth over it. She didn’t want to sit in a darkened room with Jared while watching movies of him at the age she’d first fallen for him.

  And then the wine had shown up . . .

  That wouldn’t have been good.

  Really.

  Rolling her eyes, she grabbed a dishtowel off the wooden calendar on the wall and tossed it into the washing machine, then headed up the stairs—where she heard Jared talking to someone.

  “Hey, yeah, thanks for last night. I really appreciate it.”

  Please tell her Sherisse didn’t stay for breakfast . . .

  “Next time, wine’s on you.”

  Next time. There was going to be a next time with Sherisse or Renee or whoever he was talking to.

  “Yeah, gotta go. Catch you later.”

  Ah, his cell phone. At least she wasn’t going to have to face whoever drank her portion of the wine.

  “So I see the kittens went surfing in the kitchen.” She climbed the steps, being sure he knew she was there.

  He groaned. “What the hell is in their food? I thought they had a natural instinct to use a litter box?”

  “You have to show them. When you see them scratching at a spot, you have to plunk them in the litter so they start to make the correlation.”

  “I’ve been doing that.”

  “Not all yesterday afternoon you didn’t. We were up here until dinner.”

  “And they saved it until sometime in the middle of the night. Made quite the wake-up aroma this morning. Not to mention the amount of cleaning I had to do. The kitchen looks good compared to what that play yard thing looked like.”

  “I was wondering why you moved it.”

  “If you’d seen the rug, you’d know. Be thankful I spared you. I’m going to have to buy it from my grandmother because it’s not worth saving.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I got a day’s workout in before seven. And now Dave’s going to show up wanting more.”

  She knew the feeling . . .

  She straightened her shoulders. And her metaphorical backbone. “I’m only here for the morning. One of my clients put her house up for sale and the realtor decided at the last minute to have an open house all day tomorrow. I have to get over there and clean it today since we have the Kareers for Kids event tomorrow. You’re going to be on attic duty yourself today.”

  He shrugged. “That’s fine. There’s a lot to get through. I’m still hoping I find a projector. Did your grandmother have one?”

  Mac crossed her fingers behind her back. “If she does, I didn’t find it.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie—she hadn’t looked for it.

  “I wonder if I can rent one.” He picked up the box with the reels in them and picked two of them up. “I kept thinking about them last night. I wonder how far back they go. Who’s on them.” He turned them over. “No dates or anything.”

  “So it’ll be a surprise. Like opening a present.”

  “Yeah, and check these out.” He set the movies down and picked up another box. “A bunch of family photos of people I don’t know.” He held up one in sepia with a large group of kids. “I’d forgotten that my grandfather had nine brothers and sister
s. My dad grew up with a slew of cousins. Wish I’d known them.”

  “What about family reunions and holiday dinners?”

  Jared shook his head. “Are you kidding? My mother eat on paper plates in someone’s living room at a card table? Hell no. We always went to the Bijou or Landers’ for our holiday dinners, just the three of us. Big elaborate spread, staff dressed to the nines, tons of cocktails, desserts made with gold leaf.”

  “Wow. That sounds . . .” Mac had to think how to phrase this. “Lonely.”

  Jared sighed and set down the picture. “Got it in one.”

  “You should’ve come to our house.” Where her young heart would’ve gone all aflutter . . . “Gran didn’t have a big extended family, but she had a lot of widowed friends. We always had people over. Sometimes people we didn’t even know. If there was someone who didn’t have anywhere to go, everyone knew to send them to Gran’s.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. When we were finished at the restaurant, we came home. With your house being right across the field, I could see the lights and the cars, and if it was nice out, the party would spill out into the yard. I always asked to go over, but my mom didn’t understand that I had a standing invitation to your house. She expected one in writing addressed to her and my father. Not that she would’ve come. Do you know, she’s never driven in your neighborhood? It was always ‘around the corner.’”

  “Is that like the wrong side of the tracks?”

  “All that was missing were the railroad ties.”

  Mrs. Nolan had always seemed so imposing to her. Now she knew why: The Manleys weren’t good enough. “Wow. That’s . . . um . . .”

  “Pretentious.” Jared put the photo back into the box. “Welcome to my world.”

  It was a world she’d wanted to be part of back then. Jared had lived in a big custom-built home with nice furnishings and all the latest technology, with a manicured lawn and a pool. Not to mention that batting cage. His parents had driven expensive cars, and he’d always worn designer clothes, even his sports gear. She’d let the Cinderella fantasy run the full gamut back then, imagining him as her real-life Prince Charming, whisking her away to his wonderful palace, away from the chores of life in Gran’s small house.

  Never judge a book by its cover.

  “But enough about that. I’ll take these photos to Grandma next time I visit and see if she wants any for her new place. I guess we’ll pitch the rest. I mean, who wants pictures of people you don’t know cluttering up the place?” He shrugged and smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Good point.”

  She studied him while he put the box against the banister. Not having a relationship with his extended family bothered him.

  Jared was lonely.

  The thought hit her out of the blue. It was a realization so personal, so intimate, that Mac didn’t know what to do with it. He certainly wouldn’t want to discuss it—would probably deny it—but it made sense in looking back over the years.

  Gran must have seen it. She was too sharp not to. And why wouldn’t she take him in? She took in anyone who didn’t have someone. Just because Jared had all the money and stuff and advantages he’d had didn’t mean he was any happier than she and her brothers. Matter of fact, Mac would bet that she and her brothers had been happier their entire childhood.

  And now.

  The thought rocked her. Who did he have? He’d said his parents hadn’t shown up at the hospital, his teammates were off somewhere doing their job, his ex-girlfriend had pulled a really crappy move on him, right down to kicking him out of his own home, and here he was in his grandmother’s attic, alone except for the memories.

  And her.

  Which, with the sympathy she was feeling, was probably not the safest place for her to be.

  “I’m, uh, just going to clean the dining room and then head out. Will you be okay up here?”

  He’d say yes. Of course he would.

  “Yeah.”

  But Mac knew better.

  Now what she was going to do with that knowledge was something she’d have to think about.

  * * *

  HE almost asked her to stay. To forget about the dining room and keep him company.

  But that was dangerous. Mac represented everything he wanted: unconditional love—which he’d stupidly destroyed with his careless and purposely arrogant attitude around her all those years ago—a caring, close family, traditions and holidays that dated back generations and were still going strong today, compassion, love, caring. Then there were the facts that her brothers were his best friends, she’d turned into a woman he hadn’t expected, and kissing her was the next best thing to heaven. And he knew if they took it any further, it would be heaven.

  But . . . did he want Mac for herself or for what she represented?

  Chapter Sixteen

  DO you know who’s here?” asked a woman walking past Mac’s booth the next day at the community center.

  “I saw him in the parking lot,” said another, fanning herself—and it wasn’t that hot out. “I swear, if my husband had been a few more steps ahead of me, I would’ve gone over.”

  A third one fluffed her hair. “Well point me in his direction and I will go over because mine’s out of town. What he doesn’t know won’t keep me from hitting on the hottest thing in a uniform to come along since a shirtless Bryan Manley in ripped fatigues.”

  Ewwww ewww ewww. Mac wanted to scrub her brain. She knew which scene from Bryan’s movie the woman was talking about and, while she got that her brother was hot, it was just so squidgy to hear these women foaming at the mouth about him. And it didn’t help that they were doing it about Jared, too. Hell, he could practically be her brother.

  But he’s not . . .

  True. But still. To hear women talking about him as if he were a piece of meat . . . It just felt wrong.

  Or you’re jealous.

  Whatever. Mac wasn’t going there. Today was all about the kids, and those women could take their supercharged hormones someplace else. She now had enough supercharged hormones of her own, thankyouverymuch.

  “Hey, Mac!”

  She looked up to see Jared limping across the field, his crutches more for balance than transportation.

  All three women swung around to look at her.

  Mac bit her lip to keep a satisfied smile from it. They could be potential clients and if their interest in Jared got them interested enough in her, maybe she could sign ’em up.

  Or . . . judging from the murderous look in their eyes, maybe not.

  Okay, so she let some of her satisfaction smile through and waved back to him. “Hey, Jared!”

  He came over. “How’s it going?”

  Much better now that you’re here.

  “Good. Lots of kids around. I didn’t tell anyone you were coming, otherwise you’d be mobbed, but I have a feeling word’s going to spread pretty quickly.” She looked behind him. Yup, the women were snapping pictures and Mac would bet those would be online in ten seconds.

  “I blocked off a spot for you over there.” She pointed to the orange cones she’d laid out with CAUTION tape linking them. “You might want to get set up so you’re ready when the hordes hit.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded to the backpack he was carrying. “Can you give me a hand with this?”

  Which hand and where do you want it to go?

  Mac bit her tongue, half afraid she was going to voice those questions, told the kids she was helping with the cookie dough to hang on, and hurried over to him as he slid the backpack off.

  She grabbed it but it hit the ground with a thud. “Geez, what’s in this thing?”

  “Bats, balls, bags, gloves. Couple bottles of water. Sunscreen. Usual pickup game stuff.”

  “You just had all of this hanging a
round?”

  “No, Liam brought it over the other night. We killed that bottle of wine, by the way. I was going to give it to you, but he and I got to talking and I didn’t have any beer left, so it was the wine. I owe you.”

  Liam. The conversation she’d overheard now made sense in a perfectly no-need-to-be-jealous way.

  She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Which irked her to no end. One minute she didn’t want him and the next . . .

  The next she wanted him as much as she ever had. Which had been a lot. But that’d been puppy love. Now . . .

  She wasn’t going to examine now.

  “Hey, Jared.” A blonde in a minidress waved at him as she tossed her hair over her bare shoulder.

  “Hey.” He gave the quintessential guy head-toss move.

  “Friend of yours?” Mac couldn’t help asking.

  “No clue.”

  “Really? Sounded pretty chummy to me.”

  He shrugged and hefted the backpack as if it weighed nothing. “Gotta keep the fans happy. They pay good money to watch me do what I love. I should pay them.”

  “I wouldn’t say that too loudly if I were you or you’ll have some takers.” Except the women wouldn’t want him to pay for baseball.

  “Hey, did you know there’s a petting zoo by the parking lot?” Jared bent over to separate the things he brought into piles.

  Mac made sure to look somewhere else. Anywhere else. “The zoo brings the animals here to sell memberships. Plus, a zookeeper is a valid career path and the animals help break the ice with the kids. That and the water ice booth. The owner talks to the kids about owning their own business between giving out samples.”

  “Let’s hope good ol’ American baseball can get them interested, too.”

  It did. And not just the kids.

  Or the dads.

  The moms came out in full force.

  “Choke up on the bat, Kev,” Jared said to the kid he was pitching to. “That’s it. Now hold it steady so you can connect with the ball.”

  Jared pitched and the kid swung . . . and missed.