“And you’re the one weeping?”
“Guilty.” Dante’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “I weep from afar when I’m not thinking what a royal pain in the ass she is. So tell me more about Jack’s widow. What’s her name again?”
“Maddie.”
“Right, right. I remember now. I never met her, but he mentioned her, of course. Maddie. So?”
“She’s a client. That’s it.”
“So, no sparks? C’mon, man.” Dante set his feet on the floor and leaned forward, rested his forearms on his knees. “Look, I know you miss Gwen. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through the last few years. But—”
“Stop.” Cal held up a hand. “I’ve dated a little here and there over the last year or so. But I have to be careful, Dante. I’ve got TJ. I’m not going to get involved with anyone unless I know it’s going somewhere. The last thing I need is for my kid to become attached to someone I’m seeing and then have them walk out of his life when it doesn’t work out. He’s already lost Gwen. He doesn’t need to lose anyone else.”
Dante studied his water bottle and picked at the label that was wet with condensate. “There aren’t any guarantees, no matter what. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know that.”
“You’ll have to take a chance sometime.”
“Said the man who’s longest relationship is with his cat.”
Dante’s dark eyes lit with humor. “Don’t you dis my cat. Pavarotti’s the best roommate I’ve ever had, and that includes you.”
“She likes cats.”
“Who?”
“Maddie Kinkaid. She has a barn full of them. Five or six, I think.”
“I like her already. Since you’re not interested in her, maybe you can introduce us.”
Cal snorted out a laugh. “In your dreams.”
“So you do want to jump her.”
“She’s a beautiful woman, but she’s still grieving the loss of her husband in a very—” He paused to consider his words. “—involved way. The timing’s off.”
“The timing will always be off. You’re making excuses.”
“She’s a client. You know I don’t get personally involved on the job. It’s just a bad idea all around.”
“But you’ve thought about it,” Dante said.
“Like I said, she’s a beautiful woman. I’d be less than a man not to notice, not to wonder. And she’s easy to talk to, nice to be around. And her eyes—she carries an innate sadness, so they don’t light up very often. But when they do, she’s—” He laughed at himself a little and shook his head.
Dante’s smile started small and grew. “You are so sunk. Just go for it.”
Cal imagined himself standing in the clearing with Maddie and thought, I almost did. He ran his hand over his face and pushed out of the recliner. “You want more water?”
“Nah.” Dante stood up and stretched. “I need to get home and shower. I’m on at the restaurant four to close. You ought to come by tonight with the squirt, have some pie.”
“As great as that sounds, I need to feed the little boy something besides pepperoni pizza or spaghetti and meatballs. I’m afraid chicken and broccoli is on the menu tonight.”
“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”
Cal guzzled another bottle of water and then hit the shower. He stood longer than necessary, arms braced against the tiled wall as he allowed the steaming water to sluice over his skin, easing knotted muscles as it flowed.
When the water ran cold he abandoned the shower and dressed for an afternoon at the ballpark.
He pulled TJ’s tee-ball uniform from the dryer, grabbed the little boy’s cleats from where they lay in a heap under the kitchen table, and stuffed it all into a sports bag, then packed a small cooler with water and granola bars, and dumped it into the backseat before walking next door to collect the boy himself.
“Aw, Dad, do I hafta go? Me and Henry are building a fort.” TJ trudged to the car like a man on his way to the gallows. “Can’t I miss just this one time? Please?”
“What will I tell Kylie?”
TJ threw Cal a surly expression from under the brim of his ball cap. “That I’m building a fort.”
Apparently, a pretty girl wasn’t enough of a draw yet—just wait a few years, kid—so Cal tried a different approach. “Your team needs you. Besides, we’re not going straight to the park. First we’ve got to stop by Miss Maddie’s house so I can drop off her kitchen tile, and then we’re going to Gram’s for a little while before heading out to your game.”
“Can I play with the kitties at Miss Maddie’s?”
“Just until I get the truck unloaded. But you can play with the dogs at Gram’s.”
“Well, okay.” TJ climbed into the truck and strapped himself into his car seat. “Can I go back to Henry’s later?”
“As long as it isn’t too late.” Cal checked to make sure his boy was secure and then, seeing his chance to bribe, added, “and as long as you eat a good dinner tonight. And that means all your veggies.”
“What’s for veggies?”
“Broccoli.”
TJ screwed up his face and made gagging noises that turned more dramatic as the seconds ticked by. Cal enjoyed the show in the rearview mirror but remained unmoved.
By the time he turned the truck onto the unpaved road that comprised Maddie’s driveway, TJ had replaced his able demonstration of puking up green vegetables with the off-key strains of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” The song, in turn, was abandoned the moment the truck came to a stop. TJ unbuckled himself and scrambled out of the back seat. Maddie appeared on the porch, and TJ waved to her on his beeline to the barn.
“Hi, Miss Maddie!” he called out, arms and legs pumping as he raced past the porch and across the yard. He made a long jump over Horace, who did no more than blink and flick his tail at the indignity. TJ skidded to halt when Snippet arched her back at his raucous approach. He dropped like a stone and stilled, his breathing labored from his sprint. “It’s okay, little kitty,” he puffed, wriggling his fingers in the dirt to entice the calico. “I’m just happy to see ya, that’s all.”
Snippet appeared to give weight to his words, emitted a little “mew,” and trotted over to the boy. She rubbed her face against his leg and allowed a few moments of gentle petting before something in the woods caught her eye and she raced off. TJ watched her go and crawled over to pet Horace, and he then jumped up and disappeared into the barn looking for the other cats.
While Maddie smiled at TJ interacting with the animals, Cal watched Maddie. She couldn’t possibly know how the sight of her standing barefoot on the kitchen porch in frayed cut-offs and a red tank top, cocoa hair woven into a braid that hung halfway down her back, twisted at his gut and sped up his heartbeat. He knew her cheek would be smooth as satin were he to touch it again—mosquito, you idiot, Walker, how lame was that?—and imagined her lips would be just as soft.
Cal sighed and focused on the task at hand. He was here to unload boxes of tile for the kitchen floor, not to fantasize about his client.
And that was something he needed to keep reminding himself. Maddie Kinkaid was a client, not a love interest. A client.
But when she stepped off the porch and began her walk to join him at the back of the truck, he allowed himself an appreciative perusal under the camouflage of a smile and wave.
“Thanks for letting me drop this stuff off. It should only take a few minutes to get it unloaded,” he said when she reached him.
She peeked into the bed of the truck. “Can I help?”
“No. These boxes are heavy. I’ll get them with a hand truck.”
“TJ’s good with the cats. They like him.” Maddie glanced over at the barn where TJ now sat criss-cross-style with his back against the side of the barn and the orange tabby curled with regal mien in the cradle of his legs. “Look how sweet he is with Cheeto.”
Cal cast her a wry glance. “You don’t have to sell it. I’m getting him a pet
before the summer’s over.”
“So you said last week.” Her smile reached her eyes, and the splashes of gold caught his attention. Client, Cal. Rule number 1.
“Nothing stopping you from peeking in at the pet adoptions downtown today,” she said, her tone wheedling. “Near the gazebo on the green. You could stop by the Lump & Grind first, snag one of Greta’s famous pastries, and then head across the street. Bet you’ll find the perfect pet.”
“As it happens, TJ has a tee-ball game this afternoon, so no time for the pet adoptions. Anyway, it’s a little soon. I wanted to wait until after I’m done with your kitchen.”
“Look around.” She lifted her arms and indicated the open yard and field behind the house and barn. “This would be a perfect place to train a puppy.”
“Yeah? So how come you don’t have one?”
“I already told you why,” she said, and Cal kicked himself.
No indoor pets because Jack was allergic. Jack, who she not only spoke to on a regular basis, but whom she also believed spoke back. Jack, who was still very much alive, even though he was dead.
There was no competing with that. Not that it mattered because—Cal drilled it into his brain and repeated it like a mantra—she’s a client. Client, client, client.
“I’m just offering. You could bring a puppy with you every day. He can stay in the kitchen with you while you work, or on the porch. There’s lots of room for him to run and play.”
She was too pretty, with her cheeks flushed pink from the summer heat and wisps of hair escaping from the braid to curl in the humidity.
Cal adjusted his ball cap and, with deliberation, turned his attention back to the truck and the tile. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he didn’t.
“And now I’ve annoyed you.” Maddie clasped her hands behind her back, her tone and expression contrite. “You’ll get a dog when you’re ready for one. I’m sorry for being pushy.”
“I’m not annoyed.” Cal hauled a dolly from the back of the truck and loaded it up with several boxes of Maddie’s kitchen tile. “You’ve just given me something to think about. It’s nice of you to offer.” He watched her expression brighten when he smiled at her, ridiculously pleased that anything he did had the power to light her up that way.
Maddie walked with him to the barn but didn’t follow him inside. When he came out with the empty dolly, he found her seated beside TJ, listening to the child chatter about his morning while continuing to pet the cat which purred nonstop under the boy’s affection.
“You shoulda seen the fort me and my friend Henry were building this morning.” TJ spread his arms wide, and his eyes followed suit, eyebrows lifting high. “It’s ginormous! We didn’t get to finish it though, ’cuz I have tee-ball, and Dad wanted to drop off your stuff.” He shrugged. “And we hafta go to my Gram’s. I can go back to Henry’s later, but I hafta eat my broccoli first. I don’t like broccoli.” He grabbed his throat with his hands and replayed for Maddie the puking sounds he had performed earlier for Cal.
Cal rolled his eyes while Maddie laughed, and he left them to it while he finished moving the tile from his truck to the barn where he stored the boxes in three neat stacks. While sliding the dolly back into the bed of the truck, his cell phone rang out the Batman tune. Cal checked the screen to see who was calling and gave it a tap.
“Hey, Mom. I’m just unloading some stuff and then we’ll be—”
“Caleb.”
Apprehension crawled over his skin like an erupting ant hill. “Mom, you sound scared to death. What the hell’s going on?”
“Your dad, he—we’re on our way to the hospital. I had to call 911.” She choked out a sob. “Please come right away. He had a heart attack, Caleb.”
“On my way. Have you called Rebecca?”
“No. No. I—I have to go. Will you call your sister?”
“Yes. Is Grampa Boone with you?”
“He’s bringing the car. I’m going in the ambulance with your dad. The paramedics are just getting him in now.”
Cal ran his hand over his face. Grampa Boone was a maniac behind the wheel under the best of circumstances, let alone in a crisis. Cal pictured the old man running red lights and taking corners on two wheels.
“Okay. I’ll call Becca, Mom, and I’m on my way.”
Cal glanced up as Maddie came across the yard with TJ. Her smile died the moment she saw his face.
“Into the truck, buddy. We have to go.”
“Aw, Dad, can’t we just—” The little boy took one look at Cal’s expression and clammed up, but not without a pout. “Bye, Miss Maddie.” He climbed into the truck and buckled himself into his seat without another word, but disappointment clung to him like a shadow.
“What’s happened?” Maddie asked.
Cal lowered his voice. “My dad had a heart attack. I have to meet my family at the hospital.”
“Oh, no. Caleb.” Maddie’s expression radiated empathy. “Why don’t you leave TJ with me? He can hang out here and play with the cats, and I’ll take him to his tee-ball game later.”
“That’s really nice of you, Maddie, but not necessary. He can be a handful.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a kindergarten teacher. I think I know how to handle a five-year-old. He knows me, not just because of you, but he’s seen me at school, so he won’t be uncomfortable. And, just as important, you know me. I’ll take good care of your son for as long as you need. He can even spend the night. Seriously.” She squeezed his arm, a quick and gentle motion, and offered a little smile when he started to object. “It will be fun for both TJ and me, and you can concentrate on your dad without having to worry about the little guy. He’ll be in good hands, Papa Bear. I promise.”
“It’s just that I don’t know when I can pick him up. It’s probably better if I keep him with me.”
“Didn’t I just say not to worry about picking him up? A hospital waiting room is no place for a five-year-old boy, and you have other people who need you now. “
Cal, still reeling from his mother’s call, stared as Maddie morphed into a woman of purpose. He imagined she wore just that same expression while commandeering a kindergarten classroom. She marched around him, opened the door of the truck and leaned into the vehicle to unbuckle TJ.
“C’mon, Cat Whisperer,” Maddie said to TJ. “You’re hanging with me today.” She scooped up TJ’s sports bag from the seat of the truck. “This is your tee-ball stuff, right?” To Cal, she said, “What about a helmet, glove, bat? Does he have his own equipment?”
Cal blinked at her and shook his head to clear the mud from his brain. “Yeah. The helmet and glove are already in the bag. Bat’s back here.”
Maddie winked at TJ and the boy’s face split with a grin. Cal stared at the two of them for another second. He didn’t have time for an internal debate. He pulled the bat from the rear of the truck and handed it to TJ. He wasn’t in the habit of handing his son over to strangers and, although Maddie Kinkaid was no stranger, he couldn’t say he knew her well enough to qualify her as a friend, either. Did it add a different layer if he admitted he’d really like to get her naked? Probably not.
Cal dropped into a squat to look at his son at eye level. He rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders, and said, “You okay with this, buddy? Hanging out with Miss Maddie today?”
“Are you okay, Dad?”
Cal squeezed TJ’s shoulders and forced a weak smile. “I’m okay. Gram and Gramps need my help so I’m going to take care of them while Miss Maddie takes care of you. You call if you need me, okay?”
“Okay.” TJ nodded, his expression serious. “But I think me and Miss Maddie can handle things here, Dad.”
Cal smiled, in spite of the dire circumstances. TJ’s earnestness filled his heart. He glanced up at Maddie, who stood behind TJ, a grin tugging at her lips.
“Good to know, son.” He pulled TJ into a hug. “I’ll see you in a few hours. You behave, now, and listen to Miss Maddie.
”
He stood and kept his hand on TJ’s shoulder. “He needs to be at the ball park by two-thirty, game’s at three. They usually play in the field behind the swings. Oh, and, uh—” He readjusted his cap while continuing his thought process. “Let me get his car seat, and I packed a cooler with some stuff, granola bars, water.” He backtracked to the truck and withdrew the child safety seat, then pulled the small cooler he had packed earlier from the bed of the truck. He set it next to TJ’s tee-ball equipment. “Call if you have any problems. And thanks. I really appreciate this.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Maddie said.
***
“Thanks for agreeing to stay with me,” Maddie said to TJ after Cal’s truck vanished down the drive. “We have about three-and-a-half hours before your game. How about some lunch?”
TJ shrugged. “I guess. Miss Maddie? He’s gonna be okay, you know.”
“Who?” Had the little boy intuited more than his father had intended? As a kindergarten teacher, she knew better than most adults how perceptive children could be.
“My dad.” He looked up at her, his expression that of a sage old owl. “Whatever’s wrong, he can fix it. My dad can fix anything.”
“Is that so?” She returned his smile. “Well, that’s nice to hear because my kitchen sure needs him. I can’t cook anything in there right now. I thought we could go somewhere for lunch.”
He peered at her through narrowed eyes. “I don’t hafta eat broccoli, do I?”
“Absolutely not,” she assured him. “I don’t eat broccoli unless it has cheese sauce on it.”
That caught his attention and his face brightened. “Cheese sauce? Like nachos?”
“Mm, something like that. I’ll fix you broccoli and cheese sauce sometime after your dad finishes the work on my kitchen. And since you’ll be my special guest, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it. In the meantime, what would you like for lunch?”
The corner of his lips curved in a devilish grin. “Pizza?”
Love Built to Last Page 9
