Love Built to Last

by Lisa Ricard Claro

  “And you’re lucky. I want a carpenter of my very own. If you decide you don’t want Caleb, let me know.”

  Fat chance, Maddie thought now, smiling into her glass as she sipped.

  The truck pulled up next to her Camry and the engine shut down. A moment later TJ sprang from the backseat hollering what sounded like a war whoop.

  “Miss Maddie, Miss Maddie!” He raced toward her. “I hit a homer! In practice! It went over the fence, like this!” He threw his arms out in an arc and ran across the yard and back again. “It was so sweet!”

  “I’m sorry I missed it.” Maddie held out her arms. TJ ran into them, blessed her with an enthusiastic squeeze and pulled away, eyes peering into the semidarkness for the main object of his affection.

  “Pirate! I was lookin’ all over for ya!” And he was off to meet the dog halfway. Pirate barked with excitement, and his tail swung his backside to and fro while he showered TJ’s face with doggy kisses.

  Maddie watched Cal’s advancement with a heady elixir of excitement and nervousness tingling along her skin and clenching her stomach.

  Go with the flow, go with the flow, go with the flow.

  “Did you two eat? Can I get you something?” she said when Cal came close enough that she didn’t have to raise her voice.

  “No thanks. We’re good.” He sat next to her and nudged her with his shoulder when she held her spot. “Glad to see you’re not back in the corner. I was a little concerned you might be.”

  “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Countertop’s been removed.”

  “Nice to know.”

  Maddie allowed herself to fall into the warm enchantment of mutual awareness. Cal’s gaze dipped to her mouth, back to her eyes, and they shared a knowing smile before TJ interrupted them, sprinting up with Pirate hot on his heels.

  When the yard grew too dark for TJ to play, he joined them on the stairs and Pirate collapsed in a happy heap at their feet, panting. They sat together and watched the fireflies dance. Cal laced his fingers with Maddie’s, and she made the decision to just hold tight and enjoy the show.

  Chapter 10

  The last few weeks of June flew away. Maddie focused on her volunteer work with Giving You Paws and devoted time to posting “lost dog” flyers depicting a photo of Pirate along with pertinent information. As the days passed, however, she hoped more and more that no one would claim him and was happy when no one did. He took on the role of her constant companion, except when TJ was around. It amused her that Pirate favored the boy, in spite of her role as the dog’s primary caregiver. She already regretted that she would have to leave Pirate alone every day when school started up in August. Cal teased they should have shared custody, and while Maddie laughed it off, it was something she considered for the upcoming school days, if he would agree.

  While Maddie was off “do-gooding,” as Cal called it, he finished remodeling her kitchen with the help of the brothers Luis and Ray. True to his word, he introduced them to her before scheduling them to work. Maddie found she liked the men and enjoyed chatting with them, and it was they who laid, grouted, and sealed the floor tile, they who painted her walls the cheerful pale yellow, and cleaned and sealed the brickwork, while Cal worked in his shop building her cabinets.

  She stood in her finished kitchen now with the Fourth of July just a day away. Caleb had delivered the project on time, not that Maddie ever had a doubt. She paused to gawk at her kitchen, as she did now whenever she stepped foot in it.

  The cherry cabinets glowed. Maddie smoothed her hand over the satiny finish with delight, imagining the care Cal devoted to making them beautiful for her. She loved the sleekness of the stainless steel appliances, and the window over the kitchen sink where Cal had replaced the old multi-pane with a greenhouse design that allowed more light into the space than she ever thought possible.

  Sitting in the corner of the counter above the new lazy Susan cabinet stood a stainless steel espresso machine Cal had given her as a gift to celebrate her new kitchen. She thought it looked like a miniature version of Brenna’s Dirk at the L&G, and had taken to calling it Baby. It had taken her three days to master brewing with it, and she continued to practice steaming milk for cappuccino.

  Gone were the eye-peeling green and orange floor tiles, replaced with the warm travertine now underfoot. The new center island with suspended lighting provided extra work and cabinet space, and Cal built it to allow for a couple of bar stools on the back side where she could sit and enjoy a cup of fresh-brewed espresso with a clear view of the birdfeeder he’d hung for her outside the greenhouse window.

  At the little bay window behind her table, Cal built a window seat. She hadn’t had a cushion made for it yet, but she would, because Pirate considered the space a great spot to settle for a nap.

  She set her hands on her hips and turned a full circle, smiling. This amazing kitchen was hers.

  Maddie knew the familiar fall of Cal’s steps on the porch stairs and waited for him to rap on the door, a quick tap-tap before he stepped in, as was his habit. Pirate, sprawled on the window seat, limbs hanging over the edges, tapped the tip of his tail twice in greeting and twitched an ear. He didn’t bother to lift his head.

  “Hi,” Maddie said when Cal let himself into the kitchen. “You’re early.”

  “Am I?”

  He took her outstretched hands and tugged her to him, leaned down to meet her lips with his own. The last few weeks had transformed more than just her kitchen, and Maddie smiled with pleasure against Cal’s mouth.

  “What’re you grinning at?” He moved his lips back and forth across hers, a breezy touch guaranteed to increase her heart rate by about a kajillion percent. He shifted to nibble along her jawline.

  Shivers thrilled along Maddie’s spine and she gripped his shirt to stay upright. “It’s a wonder you got any work done these last few weeks.” She closed her eyes to enjoy those tingles because, hey, as it turned out, going with the flow came with benefits.

  “Why? Because I can’t keep my hands off you?”

  “Exactly,” she laughed, delighted that it was true.

  Once Maddie embraced Jack’s advice to go with the flow, her fledgling relationship with Cal bloomed. Although, while she and Cal started frequent physical fires, like the one being kindled at that very moment, time and circumstance had prevented the dousing of said fires, leaving both of them aching from a slow and mighty burn.

  If it wasn’t Cal’s overloaded work schedule—managing his own business and overseeing Walker and Son packed his days and nights with meetings, conference calls, and paperwork—and family commitments keeping them from consummating their burgeoning physical desires, then it was TJ, who popped up at inopportune moments with such alarming regularity Cal had threatened to make the boy wear a bell.

  Maddie knew they could always find time for what Jack called a “flash, splash, and dash,” but she didn’t want that, not for their first time together. Tacit agreement of this kept their simmering needs unfulfilled. Well, that, and Maddie chickening out. The one time in the last two weeks when the circumstances were favorable for a consummation of their frustrated yearnings, Maddie caved to guilt and nerves.

  For the first time since his temporary takeover of Walker and Son, Cal had finished up early enough one evening to have Maddie over for dinner, and after a take-home meal of Caravicci’s spaghetti and meatballs, Maddie, Cal, and TJ had snuggled on the couch at Cal’s to watch an animated movie populated with superheroes because, as TJ told her, how can anything with Batman in it be bad? The house smelled of garlic bread, buttered popcorn, and TJ’s bath bubbles. Even Pirate joined them on the couch, his hairy body snuggled under TJ’s arm.

  “Can we do our goodnight story?” TJ asked when the movie ended. Maddie agreed, tucked him into bed, and cuddled him close while they spent the better part of half an hour saying goodnight to every possible thing. If it qualified as a noun, it got tagged, including the dust bunnies under the bed and TJ’s bellybutton. Cal, watching
from the doorway, ended the game when TJ said goodnight to his boogers.

  “Aw, but Dad—”

  “Goodnight TJ’s boogers, goodnight TJ,” Cal said.

  Maddie kissed TJ and tucked him in for good, stroked Pirate, and left him in his spot at the foot of TJ’s bed. She took Cal’s hand and followed him back to the couch where she set her glasses on the sofa table out of harm’s way and they proceeded to make out like a couple of teenagers.

  “I should go,” Maddie whispered at one point, gasping when Cal unhooked her bra. She didn’t think about leaving after that, in fact, thought of it not at all when he pushed her shirt up and his mouth took the place of his hands.

  “Stay.” The sexy growl proved pretty darn convincing, and Maddie threaded her fingers through his hair, those thick waves, and kissed him because she might die if she didn’t.

  By tacit agreement they started making their way to the bedroom. A quick peek in at TJ showed the little boy spread-eagled, his muffled snores providing a fair likeness of a motorboat. At the foot of the bed Pirate lay curled, snoring in unison. Perfect.

  Back to business.

  Cal pressed Maddie against the wall and resumed his explorations. Maddie sank in, thought of nothing but the heat of his hands and mouth.

  Another step, and another, and just one more and there, praise god, was the bedroom doorway.

  Pirate yipped, followed by a soft woof, but he escalated, jumped off the bed and trotted down the hall, his mighty bark reverberating through the house. He bayed all the way to the back door. TJ woke up, climbed out of bed and shuffled, still half asleep, after the dog.

  Maddie tugged her shirt into place and folded her arms across her chest because the bra, unclasped, was useless.

  Without a word, Maddie went after Pirate, Cal led TJ back to bed, and by the time they met each other in the living room for the “Now, where were we?” portion of the evening, Maddie had put her glasses back on, re-hooked her Maidenform, and settled her girls back into their cups.

  “TJ’s snoring. Sound asleep. Pirate can stay out for a while,” Cal said.

  Maddie, who wasn’t born yesterday, knew that “for a while” really meant “while we do it,” and shook her head in a firm negative. During the space of time between being all hot and bothered and watching Pirate lift his stump to shoot pee all over the yard, Maddie had time to think. Maybe the interruption was some cosmic message from Jack. Maybe she just wasn’t ready for all of this. Maybe it was Jack telling her she was falling way too fast.

  The hotter it burns the quicker it dies. That’s what Jack would say.

  And so Maddie had kissed Cal goodnight, collected her noisy dog, and had gone home alone to her empty house where all Jack wanted to talk about was her water bill.

  Standing in the kitchen with Cal now, his lips a mere breath away from hers, she admitted the truth. Jack wasn’t her reason. Jack was her excuse.

  Be honest, Mads. You chickened out. And now the sweet Lord only knew when they’d have another opportunity, because every night of the week Cal was up till after midnight writing quotes, answering e-mails, checking blueprints, drawing blueprints, and who knew what all else? One thing she knew for certain: She wouldn’t chicken out next time.

  “Is TJ visiting the cats?” She sucked in a breath when Cal’s warm hands slid under her shirt.

  “Yes. Until I try to cop a feel, and then he’ll be on the porch with his hand on the door.” He laughed, sighed, and ended his tantalizing exploration. He settled his hands on Maddie’s hips instead. “After we get past the holiday tomorrow, can we plan a day or two away? God knows I need the break from keeping two businesses going, and it won’t hurt you to have a little time before your school planning meetings and workshops start up.”

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  “I bet my sister will keep TJ if I grovel and offer a hefty monetary bribe.”

  “That sounds like an even better plan.”

  “You sure you can’t hang out with us tomorrow?”

  “I really can’t. I promised Jack’s mom, Edie, that I’d spend the day with them. She cornered me on it a few weeks ago, made me pinkie promise I’d show.” Maddie smiled. “I mean that literally. And there’s no way I can break an official pinkie promise. Why don’t you and TJ join us?”

  “That wouldn’t be weird for you?”

  “Because it’s Jack’s family? No, they’ll be thrilled, believe me. They worry about me being alone and lecture me all the time.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “So what you’re really worried about is that it will be weird for you.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I have it on good authority from a certain five-year-old that ‘we’ll see’ from you means no.”

  “I’m so maligned. Hey.” He pulled back and studied her face. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?”

  “I’ve got my contacts in.”

  “I didn’t know you had contacts. I’ve only ever seen you with your glasses.”

  “I used to wear contact lenses all the time before—before. And then it was just easier not to.” Because crying all the time made it impossible.

  “So why the switch now?”

  Maddie fluttered her lashes. “What’s the matter, don’t you like me anymore?”

  He answered by firming his grip on her hips and lifting her into a kiss, the promise of which was destined to be unmet the moment TJ’s feet pounded up the porch stairs.

  “Hey, Dad?”

  Maddie laughed, Cal sighed, and they parted as the door opened.

  “Yes, son.”

  “Is it time to go yet? I wanna go. I’m hungry. And Dad? Do you know if Uncle Dante’s working? ’Cuz he likes it when he gets to give me quarters.”

  “Yes, it’s time to go. I don’t know if Uncle Dante is working, and you don’t need to wheedle quarters out of him or anyone else.” So saying, Cal reached into his pocket. He tossed a roll of quarters to TJ who caught it with both hands and emitted a maniacal giggle. “I got those just for you, buddy. They’re all yours. But once they’re gone, they’re gone. No asking for more.”

  “But what if somebody gives me quarters? Like if Miss Maddie gives me some, or Uncle Dante gives me some. Would that be okay then? Would it, Dad? ’Cuz then that isn’t the same as asking, right?”

  Cal rolled his eyes and turned TJ around to face the door. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

  “You go ahead out to the truck,” Maddie told him. “I have to grab my purse.”

  She jogged upstairs to the master bedroom and lifted her purse from the dresser, gave herself a quick once over in the mirror, pleased to see her eyes looking back at her without the lenses of her glasses in the way. Her dark hair waved over her shoulders and her cheeks shone with a healthy glow.

  Going with the flow was working for her.

  She hefted the purse over her shoulder and skipped back down the stairs. Her heart did a guilty ka-thump when she neared Jack’s study.

  She glanced toward the kitchen, sighed, and stepped through Jack’s doorway.

  She stared at Jack’s desk, at the papers, and ignored the desire to sit in his chair and ask him questions, the answers to which she burned to know: Is this what you want for me? Is this what you had in mind? She hadn’t talked to Jack in almost a week. She had reduced the frequency of her visits to his desk because he had nothing to communicate. More often than not she came up empty, or the papers she pulled from the stack had no discernible bearing on the questions she asked of him. After several days, she decided maybe his extended silence meant he wanted her to give it a break, to recharge.

  She eased away from the doorway and went to Jack’s desk. Without sitting, she laid her hands on the stack of papers, closed her eyes and waited. Her anticipation yielded nothing; no twinge, no tremble.

  Was it possible Jack was gone for good? The thought sent a shudder through her. She refused to believe it.

  “Maddie, you coming?” Cal’s voice beckone
d from the kitchen.

  She snatched her hands away from the desk like a guilty child caught sneaking a treat. “On my way,” she called, and to Jack she whispered, “I’ll be back. I promise.” But for the first time in forever, she left the room and didn’t look back.

  ***

  In keeping with her sacred pinkie promise, Maddie arrived at the Kinkaid’s house at ten o’clock on the morning of July fourth and strolled into organized chaos with a leashed Pirate and a bouquet for Edie in tow. Blankets, coolers, folding chairs, a bag of barbequing coals, and food-laden containers lay stacked by the door. Maddie also spied a couple boxes of sparklers, sunscreen, and ball caps. She side-stepped and greeted her father-in-law with a kiss on his cheek.

  “You’re looking festive,” she said.

  “Edie picked out my clothes.” His voice rolled out with a grumble. “I look like the American flag threw up on me.”

  Maddie didn’t argue. She patted his belly and accepted his bear hug with a smile.

  “Don’t forget the extra blanket, Ron.” Edie’s voice flowed from the kitchen. “And I’ve loaded the blue cooler. We don’t want to run out of drinks. Oh, and bring two more folding chairs. You never know when you’ll run into someone who might need them. Ron, did you hear me?”

  Papa Ron did a fine impression of a man pulling out his hair and mimed a silent scream and sobbing into his hands. Maddie bit off a laugh and patted his shoulder. “You okay?”

  “She’s got something up her sleeve. I have no idea what because the woman’s not talking, and after thirty-five years of marriage I know better than to ask. Whatever it is, it’s had her grinning like the Cheshire cat for two weeks.”

  “Ron,” Edie’s voice trilled from the kitchen. “Did you hear me?”

  He sighed the sigh of the damned and dropped his chin to his chest. “Yes, dear,” he called back.

  “Can I help you with any of this?” Maddie asked.

  “No, no.” He gave a vague wave of his hand. “I’ll get this stuff loaded up. You go on and see if ‘She Who Must Be Obeyed’ has a job for you. I don’t know why we couldn’t just stay home like always. Downtown is going to be packed like the MARTA trains during the Olympics.” He huffed out a loud exhale, bent to scoop up an armload of blankets, and patted Pirate’s head along the way.