Little Matchmakers
Page 9
“Okay. Is that completely off your chest now?”
“Yes.”
“So we’ll try for another kayaking race. Next Friday.”
“Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Did you hear me, Tucker?”
“I did,” he said, and then clicked off.
Sally called from inside the store; a customer on the landline had a question. Garnet hustled back in, but the sound of Tucker’s voice was still in her head. She’d wanted to be honest with him, about who she was for real, the kind of mistakes she’d made, no prettying up the picture.
It wasn’t that she wanted to put herself down.
She just wanted to leave him a way out, if he wanted one.
Before either of them had gone too far.
Chapter Seven
The next Friday dawned, hot and bright. Not a cloud in the sky. No emergencies showed up over breakfast, and Pete was as revved up as an overstoked hot rod. “What time are they coming?”
“Eleven. The same time I told you ten minutes ago.”
“But they could come early.”
“That’s true. But I doubt they’re coming two hours early, Pete.”
Two hours later, Pete was lying flat on the front porch, the reprobate cat purring on his bare stomach. He was wearing a bathing suit, Crocs, his life vest, heaps of sunscreen and a straw hat—for effect. He had a bag next to him, had packed three or four times now. A change of clothes, a towel, more sunscreen, three bottles of water, plastic-locked snacks, bug repellent, a bug bite stick, Garnet’s cell phone. He’d been prepared since five that morning.
Garnet had managed to put on a dark green bathing suit, nylon shorts and a sleeveless cover. She’d twisted her hair up and clipped it, applied sunscreen. But she couldn’t find her shoes or her wallet or her cell phone, and the MacKinnons were due any minute.
“Your water shoes are in the laundry room, Mom.”
“Why on earth would they be there?!”
“Because you left them there.”
“I know where the house keys are,” she began, then saw her son—her bad, evil, wicked son—raise a lazy hand and jingle the set of keys. She popped outside to grab them, and tickle her son…just as an old Volvo pulled into the yard.
The car was nothing like Tucker’s truck, but Tucker and Will climbed out, accompanied by an unfamiliar man—not that Garnet needed more than two seconds to identify him. He had blonder hair than Tucker’s, had to be younger by several years, but he had the same strong-boned face, the same long, lanky build.
“Ike,” he said, introducing himself before Tucker had a chance. “I’m the younger brother. The doctor. And just for the record, if I were interested in a woman, I’d likely do something like dinner and wine in the moonlight. Not drag her on some godforsaken kayak race in the middle of this heat.” Ike shook his head. “My brother just doesn’t know how to treat a woman.”
Garnet had to smile. His handshake was warm and easy, just like his whole manner. “I can see why your brother never mentioned you before.”
“Yeah, he likes to keep me hidden. Which is what I’m doing today—being your invisible behind-the-scenes guy. Tucker’s truck is already at the base of the river. I’m driving you all to the top, where you pick up the kayaks.”
“You could let me get a word in,” Tucker mentioned. When he came up behind his brother, Garnet could so, so see the difference.
Both MacKinnons were good-looking beyond what was fair, but Ike had a kindness and quiet about him. Tucker was the one with the edges and dark corners. The sexiness. Or maybe that was her perception, because she could feel her body trying to glom toward him like a star for its sky.
“You don’t need to get a word in,” Ike told his brother. “Here’s the plan, Garnet. I’m babysitting Tucker’s mountain while you four are on this kayak trek. And since Tucker made me drive all this way to do that, I’m going to stay the night, which means I get my nephew for the evening. Your Pete’s welcome to join us. Not sure whether we’ll do a movie or a campfire or what, but we’re aiming for something Tucker won’t approve of.”
Garnet glanced at her son. She could see Pete was interested in this idea, was already warming to Ike…but that wasn’t enough to sway Garnet quite that fast. “Let’s see how the day goes, okay? How tired we all are.”
“And who wins,” Pete reminded her.
That was the thing, Garnet thought. Both kids could win from this outing. Pete was happy to be with Tucker, and was doing something outdoorsy. Will, being Will, had a naturally more easygoing nature…but he was still beaming, looking forward to this.
She was the only antsy one in the group, although she was doing her best to hide those nerves. She wasn’t afraid of hard work or heat. She could swim, knew she was basically strong and fit. She really didn’t know what was causing the clutch in her pulse, but she couldn’t seem to shake it.
Around an hour later, they reached the portage site, and Ike dropped off the four of them. The kids were beside themselves with excitement.
“I know exactly what game I’m going to buy when Mr. Tucker and I win,” Pete told her as they finished donning life vests and organizing their gear.
She kept studying the kayaks, which were all bright-colored and mighty small and looked as if they could tip over for a breath of wind. Thankfully there wasn’t much wind, just a whisper unsettling the tall pines bordering the river and a blaze of midday sun.
“This is pretty awesome, huh, Mom?”
“Yeah, way awesome,” she agreed. The water was rushing from above, making a noise like thunder, looking like a streak of white diamonds pouring down. Below, she could see boulders and rocks in the water. Boulders they could run into. Sharp, hard rocks that seemed to be everywhere.
“Hey.” Tucker disengaged from the boys, hooked an arm around her shoulder, steered her a few feet away. “Garnet, if you don’t want to do this, we can call it off right now. It was just an idea. That’s all. I’ve been struggling to find ways to encourage your Pete to do something, anything, that remotely resembles a sport…but this was only one idea. I’ll find others. We’ll find others. If any of us are afraid, it totally destroys the fun factor. So if you want to—”
“I’m not afraid,” she said immediately.
“Will’s done this since he was five years old. And the river’s shallow here, almost never deeper than waist-high. The current’s fast, but you could jettison the kayak at any time, probably be able to stand up—”
“I’m a decent swimmer. Pete’s a good one. And I love the outdoors, Tucker. I’m no sissy.”
“I know that.” But he kept studying her face. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
Of course she was sure. If it didn’t work, she’d be dead and wouldn’t know the difference. Every impulsive decision she’d made in the past had pretty much ended in disaster…but this was for Pete, not her. This was about Pete, not her.
The two kayaks lined up. Tucker gave some instructions, laid out some ground rules. “It’s the law of the water. Anyone’s in trouble, the other stops to help. Anyone has a problem, we all stop. I’m guessing the course will take us a couple hours.”
“And we’re gonna get way wet!” Will enthused. “C’mon, Mrs. G. My dad and Pete don’t have a chance. Not against us! I’ll show you everything you need to know! C’mon! Hop in!”
She hopped in, following all orders—including removing her top so she’d have something dry to put on when the race was over. Good thing she’d been told that, because they barely shot from the starting line before they were caught in a swift current.
Will started paddling like mad…and the roller-coaster ride began. Around a giant boulder, down an angle, and suddenly there was a blast of sharply cold water in her face. She was drenched so fast, she could only gasp…and then unwillingly laugh.
She wasn’t sure what all that initial anxiety was about, but maybe what it took was that wild splash of cold water. “More than great. How fast do you think we can make this thing go?”
“Way fast. You ready?”
“You bet!”
Downstream they went, past boulders, then a fast slide and wild whoosh of water that drenched them both. From somewhere close, she heard Pete’s yelp of laughter, Tucker’s voice boisterously expressing exuberance and encouragement.
Their kayak surged ahead…temporarily. The Tucker/Pete team was never far. Garnet picked up the rhythm of the paddling. It wasn’t just about speed, but about being in sync with Will—so the paddling had a music to it, a work-together pacing. Will was extraordinarily strong for a boy, and she might not have paddling muscles, but she was physically fit from her own work.
Her sun hat flipped off, lost in the churn and bubble of the river. As cold as the water was, the sun still beat down hotter than fire. Under a heavy canopy of trees, the deep shade provoked a shiver…but they were back in the sun within seconds. Her arms tired, ached, and still she kept up the pace.
Again, Tucker and Petie pulled up close. “Make way, you devils, for the faster team,” Tucker yelled out.
“Yeah, Mom, we’re gonna clean your clock!” Petie yelled out.
She whipped her head around, just to make sure it was really her son screaming out insults and challenges, soaking wet, having fun—being outside, doing a sports thing, and from the grin on his face, as their kayak passed hers, he’d forgotten all about the prize. He was having fun. Just plain old having fun.
“Eat my dust, Mom! Eat my dust!”
She and Will poured out more effort—at least she did. For the first time since they started, Will seemed to lose steam.
“Are you tired?” she asked him.
“Naw. They just picked up the current at the right time. But we can catch up.”
They came close. As close as the length of three kayaks. And when she realized they couldn’t win, she told Will, “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough—but I’ll find a way to make it up to you for the prize.”
“Are you kidding? I didn’t care about the dumb prize. I just want the four of us to get to do this again.”
Will was still talking as they sort of soft-crashed into the sandy shore. Pete and Tucker appeared to be doing a victory dance. Will started laughing.
Garnet crawled out of the kayak and splayed, tummy first, on solid ground.
Eventually she was surrounded by the guys.
“Are we alive?” Tucker asked delicately.
“No. Five minutes from now, I’ll be alive. Right now…not.”
“Are we feeling just a little sad because we beat the pants off you?”
“You did not beat the pants off us. You won by a measly few yards. So maybe you get the prize this time, but I think Will and I want to demand a rematch. Will…?”
“Yeah, we want a rematch. Same teams. Same money. Different winner.”
Will picked up a chant with that general refrain.
“If you guys are thirsty, there’s some lemonade in the cooler there….”
The boys were off and running. Other people ambled around, some having finished a kayak or canoe or raft run, some waiting for family or friends to be picked up. She only saw Tucker. First his knees, kneeling next to her. His scrappy old khaki shorts. A yellow T-shirt molded to his chest. All of him still dripping, just as she was.
“Tucker?”
“What?”
“This was a stupendous idea. Thanks for thinking of it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But I have to tell you something.”
“What?”
She lifted her tired head, saw the boys were several yards away, turned a serious look back to Tucker. “Your son pulled back. He’ll deny it, but he did. He let you and Petie win.”
“Yeah, I know. I watched him. He’s got a good heart, my kid, doesn’t he?”
“A huge heart. What a kind thing to do.”
“For God’s sakes, don’t let on you know.” He made her swear, cross her heart, hope to die. When she rolled her eyes skyward at the silly childhood vow, he said, “Will and I talked about it last night. About how Pete likely never had an opportunity to win at any sport before. And we could do this again, so it wasn’t as if either team only had one shot at winning. But that’s as far as the talk went. I didn’t suggest he do anything. I just wanted him to think about it.”
She had to break away from the intense look in his eyes. A look that had nothing to do with children and kayak racing, and everything to do with two soaked adults, wearing nominal clothes, feeling the heat of the sun warm them up fast.
Or maybe it was the other kind of heat kindling all that warmth.
She forced her attention on the boys, who were slugging down lemonade at the speed of sound. “I’m kind of amazed at how well they get along, aren’t you? They don’t have much in common.”
“Except for both being ten. And to be honest…” He hesitated.
“What?”
“I have this feeling they’re plotting something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. But they both stop talking when I come within hearing distance.”
“Maybe, but what could they possibly be plotting?”
“Trouble.” Again he caught her gaze, held it. “My son’s almost as good at trouble as I am.”
Her hair was tangled and wet, her nose undoubtedly beet-red from the sun, and she’d pulled on shorts over her bathing suit, but still, she was mostly bare. And vulnerable. Just the way he looked at her made her feel intensely vulnerable. Intensely naked.
“Hey, Dad…?”
Tucker looked up, arched an eyebrow at her, as if to say, “so much for adult time.”
They scooped up all their heaps of gear, stashed everything in the back of his truck. The boys tumbled into the backseat, and she took the front seat next to Tucker.
Before they were halfway home, she turned to the backseat and said, “All right. What’s wrong with you two?”
“What? What?” Petie said.
“I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. G.”
The innocence on both their faces was darned near frightening. “Neither of you have said a word. Now, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Will said. “Except that my Uncle Ike said we could both stay over tonight with him, like we told you. And we both want to do it. I told Pete about my uncle. Uncle Ike is awesome sometimes. Especially when we get him away from other adults and we just get him for ourselves.”
“Yeah, and Mom,” Petie added, “he’s a doctor. So if anything happened, he’d be right there, you know. You wouldn’t have to worry.”
Garnet said to Tucker, “Something’s going on here.”
“Mom. There’s nothing going on.”
“Cross my heart, Dad. Like, come on. We’re being quiet, so, like, now you’re suspicious? How unfair is that?”
“Okay, okay, I apologize,” Garnet said, and turned to face the front again—after a quick shared glance with Tucker. Something was going on. Pete hadn’t even mentioned racing to Best Buy with his big win. That was like expecting peace in the Middle East. His mind had to be majorly occupied elsewhere.
But neither boy was prone to lie or cause trouble, so there wasn’t much else she could do or say. At least right then. Tucker had barely pulled into his drive before the boys leaped out, running straight to Ike—who was standing on the top step of the veranda, waiting for them.
“We seem to have lost popularity,” Tucker said wryly.
Garnet laughed. “I’ll say. They both take to your b
rother like ducks to water.”
“Ike’s low-key. Never met a kid who didn’t like him. I swear they’d follow him like the Pied Piper.”
“But he’s not married?”
“Not yet. At least that I know of. Ike plays his cards close to his chest, as far as his private life. Rosemary’s been known to sit on him, ply him with liquor and force some news out of him, but it’s always like that. Having to pull teeth.”
“You think it runs in the family?”
He shot her a glance. She shot him an innocent smile right back, but he wasn’t buying that innocence business, not anymore.
They popped out of his truck, grabbing gear, Ike and the boys helping, all of them chattering at once—messages for him, what had happened at the camp, where Ike was taking the boys that evening, all that general chatter. He kept one eye on Garnet.
She’d chosen to wear a modest one-piece bathing suit and a nylon pair of navy shorts for both modesty and cover. Her hair had gotten as soaked as the rest of her. She’d pulled it back in a crazy twisty ponytail, with sunglasses stuck on top. Her nose and shoulders were pink, but the rest of her had just gotten a little extra coat of sun.
Not that he actually had a vote, but personally he thought she was the sexiest woman alive, just as she was, natural and unconcerned about whether her hair looked just so or if there was a little sand between her toes.
“All right,” Ike told them. “Boys and I are taking the Gator. We have enough food for six weeks, but if we run out before midnight, we’ll likely come down to raid the refrigerator again. I’ve got fresh batteries in the walkie-talkie. We’re staying in the top cabin, which probably means the altitude’s too high for copperheads, but all three of us hope we see a bear. We intend to tell ghost stories, stay up as late as possible and do some other things that you two likely won’t approve of. I’ll bring them down the mountain by around nine tomorrow morning. Is there anything else you overprotective parents need to know?”
“Hey.” Tucker clearly objected to being called overprotective.