Unexpected

by Karen Tuft

  “That’s true.” He wasn’t sure if she was complimenting her tattooed friend or pronouncing a judgment of some kind on him.

  She opened the door, and the resulting slice of blinding light and noise jarred his senses.

  “I’d better be getting back to the kitchen now,” she said. “Please excuse me.”

  * * *

  The dining room, at present, was fairly quiet, so Natalie decided it would be a great opportunity to replenish the chicken puff tray. She stepped into the dining room and slipped to the back of the table, where she was better able to access the tray and stay out of the way of any hungry guests who decided to wander in. Two women were loading their plates and talking in hushed tones. Natalie tried hard not to listen, but when she heard Ross’s name, she immediately tuned in, despite her best intentions.

  “So, did you see him? Ross?” The woman, who looked to be about Natalie’s age but with the leathery complexion of years in the tanning salon, glanced around quickly, then turned back to her friend.

  “Uh-huh. Very dishy.” The second woman, who was a little bit on the plump side, pushed a stuffed mushroom into her mouth and placed two more on her plate.

  “He was so hot in high school. I remember doing whatever I could to hang out with Suzie so I could come over to the house and stare at him.”

  The second woman swallowed. “Did he ever ask you out?”

  The first woman sighed. “No. He was dating Kendra Bennett at the time and never even looked at me. She’s Kendra Dickson now. Do you know her?”

  “I don’t think so. I was a year behind you in school, remember?” The second woman was munching on a tiny ham sandwich now.

  “Oh, that’s right. And Suzie and I were just sophomores when he was the big senior everything. Suzie told me he’s never married. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “Really? That’s weird, don’t you think?” She shoved the remainder of the ham into her mouth and licked mustard off her finger.

  “Kind of. He’s been in New York. I imagine he could have all the women he wants. Although his mother would probably kill him if he did—have them, if you know what I mean.” She chuckled at the implied double meaning in her words. The leathery woman picked up a berry custard tartlet and slid it onto her plate. “I think I’ll go talk to him, see if he remembers me.”

  “Your divorce from Mike is final, then?”

  Natalie pulled herself away from the table when the conversation took this tangent. She went to the kitchen, filled the tray with chicken puffs, and returned to the dining room. The women hadn’t budged from their spot.

  The first woman was loading her plate with cocktail sauce and cold shrimp. “And Suzie was furious at him. They had it out again earlier tonight, and I couldn’t get her to stop ranting about it. Then she told me that he’d given her a list of requirements that a woman has to have for him to be interested in her. She said he wasn’t kidding either. She was so angry at him. She said he’ll never get married, and it’ll serve him right.”

  Natalie busied herself straightening napkins.

  “So what was on the list?”

  “Well, the first item on the list is single, as in never married, although at his age, that will be next to impossible, and it won’t stop me from saying hello to him.” The woman glanced back out the door and didn’t see Natalie glance up. Determining the coast was clear, the woman continued in her overloud whisper. “College grad, beauty queen, professional, a financial success. The whole package.”

  A previously smooth napkin wrinkled in Natalie’s hand.

  The second woman paused with a chocolate cream tartlet halfway to her mouth. “Well, that explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “Why he’s not married. He’s looking for the perfect woman. But the perfect woman doesn’t exist. You’d have to put Mother Teresa, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Oprah in a blender, along with a Victoria’s Secret model, to get the woman you’re talking about. And that leaves him free to entertain himself with all those women you said he’s got available to him back East.” She paused in thought and took a moment to set the tartlet down on her plate. “And if no one meets the requirements, it’s not his fault. It gives the impression he’s still looking for a relationship. He doesn’t have to actually find one.”

  Natalie and the first woman both stared in amazement. The second woman shrugged. “I saw a show on cable about men who won’t commit.”

  The first woman sighed. “I’d take Ross McConnell for one evening, no commitment necessary, if I could. I imagine there are a lot of women out there who would as well.”

  “Well, that would be all you would get, if you were lucky, since you didn’t graduate from college and you aren’t a rich beauty queen.” She laughed and grabbed a slice of birthday cake.

  Natalie refused then and there to be one of obviously dozens—no, hundreds—of women drooling after Ross McConnell. He was her boss. She was an ordinary, undereducated, divorced housekeeper with three kids and crow’s feet. She may have the same employment as Cinderella, but that was as far as the parallel went. Natalie had given up on fairy tales and happily ever after. Buck Jacobsen had put a huge dent in her dreamy-eyed view of love when she was a young girl, and Wade Forrester had finished the job off completely and then stomped on it. She had to get away from these women and their talk, so she headed back to the kitchen and safety.

  I am a fool, an utter fool, Natalie thought. She grabbed an apple and fastened it to one of the many strings tied to the clothesline crossing Mrs. McConnell’s kitchen. The apple-eating contest for the grandkids was about to begin. Natalie decided she was going to hang out in the kitchen and keep a low profile for a little while. It would allow Wade’s boss, Mr. Dickson, and his wife plenty of time to leave, the gossipy women would disappear, and, hopefully, the nasty goddess of beauty would slither back to her fiery cave. Natalie also vowed to put the idea of Ross McConnell as her dark knight safely on the shelf, out of sight.

  She couldn’t get over the fact that he was the man she’d encountered during her blind date with Doug. She had been so flustered at the time. Her usually reliable visual memory had put together only his essence, tall and dark, strong. Handsome. That essence had become her fictitious hero. There had been a couple of days recently when she had felt overwhelmed with life, when Wade had been at his nastiest and she had envisioned this dark knight coming to her rescue, saving the day, like he had tried to do in the restaurant lobby. It was silly nonsense, Natalie knew, but it felt therapeutic, just like her art projects did. It had given her a creative release, a happy ending, and had put a smile on her face. She knew she could rely only on herself, so she had kept her knight to herself and trudged on. Now that this storybook hero had an actual name and face, his name and face, she wanted to laugh and then weep from embarrassment.

  She was glad it had been dark outside, or she was sure Mr. McConnell would have seen straight through her. It was bad enough that every time he walked into a room Natalie stopped breathing. After what she’d gone through with Wade and Buck, she’d sworn off men, and then bam! The first attractive man who came along reduced her to the behavior of a silly, dumbstruck fool. Of course, it had become apparent that she wasn’t the only one to behave like that. There had been many females in close proximity to him all evening. Very attentive, clingy females vying for his attention. Virtually every female here, in fact, from the curly-headed niece she had witnessed him tossing in the air to the devastating siren who had ordered Natalie around like her personal slave.

  It was enough, she thought as she picked up an apple and shined it on her apron before tying it onto a string. She had to take herself firmly in hand. A faceless fantasy knight may have been pathetic but had been virtually harmless. A knight who was Ross McConnell, on the other hand, was dangerous. He was too attractive, too successful, too everything for her to think about. He had too much power. She knew all about what giving her power to someone else could do. Natalie didn’t have much power to begin with and
what she did have had been hard won. Besides, she thought as she tied the last apple to its string, someone like Ross McConnell would never look twice at someone like her, except to point out a streak she might have missed cleaning the bathroom mirror.

  “Okay! Who’s ready to play?” She looked around the kitchen. Thankfully, no guest children had been brought to what amounted to a grown-up’s birthday party, which had left only Dorothy’s grandchildren to be entertained. Suzie’s two children, Riley and Regan, knew their cousins well, and Jackie’s older kids were used to running herd on the younger ones, so the atmosphere was stress free and fun. Callie had quickly developed a fast friendship with Jackie’s fourteen-year-old daughter, Mindy, and a deep crush on Mindy’s twin brother, Matt. Emma and Tess had already exchanged cell phone numbers with a ruggedly handsome young man named Brett while they’d been up to their elbows in pumpkin guts. Natalie thought Brett was Jackie’s son too. The teens had already cleaned out four pumpkins to make into jack-o-lanterns and were nearly done scooping the seeds out of a fifth, while Callie and Mindy entertained the younger children by making ghosts out of Tootsie Pops and Kleenex. Earlier in the evening, Natalie had observed Matt prowling from the buffet table to the older teens, all the while keeping a nonchalant eye on Callie. It unnerved her that some boy was checking out her baby until she noticed her baby was surreptitiously checking out said boy. “Let’s get this contest underway,” she said.

  Emma, Tess, and Brett rinsed pumpkin from their hands and arms and quickly selected apples conveniently located next to each other. Mindy chose hers, and Matt grabbed his spot.

  “There are two more apples,” Natalie said. “You in, Cal-pal?” Callie had been happily carrying three-year-old Lexie around and watching Matt from beneath lowered lashes.

  Callie now looked at Matt and blushed. He grinned back at her, and she said, “Sure. Lexie wants to, don’t you, Lex?” When the toddler nodded vigorously, Natalie smiled and moved a chair into place next to one of the remaining vacant apples for Lexie to stand on.

  “How about you, Bob?” Tess called out. Natalie hesitated, but then Emma and Callie joined in, chanting “Bob! Bob!” followed by the others.

  Natalie peeked quickly out the door at the buffet table. Things were still slow for the moment, and there was plenty of food. “Oh, okay. But I’ll be tough to beat!”

  The boys shouted their objections at that.

  “Callie, if you’re going to be helping Lexie, why don’t you also be the judge to see who wins?” Natalie suggested.

  “Great!” Taking her newfound authority very seriously, Callie looked around and called, “Everyone ready? Get set. Go!”

  Apples on strings started swinging like pendulums as laughing mouths and teeth tried to grab hold of the slippery apple skins.

  “Hey! No hands, Matt. That’s cheating,” Brett yelled, which was followed by a maniacal laugh from Matt.

  There were a few muffled sounds of pain as swinging apples bumped into faces. Natalie had almost taken a bite, but her apple was too smooth and didn’t have any of those nice nubby spots where she could easily sink her teeth in and gain an advantage. At one point, she noticed that Callie was holding Lexie’s apple for her so Lexie could take tiny nibbles.

  Natalie had finally taken a good first bite and had half of her apple eaten when she heard Brett yell, “Done!”

  “Stop, everyone!” Callie said as she checked his apple.

  It was clean to the core.

  Brett started to dance, his arms swinging up in victory.

  “Brett won, Uncle Mackie!” Lexie called out. “He won!”

  Grinning, Natalie turned toward this Uncle Mackie and froze when she saw who he was. Darn it! Why did he always catch her doing stuff like this? This time she was attacking a hanging apple like a demented giraffe.

  Well, at least she wasn’t wearing her tap shoes.

  “I was watching, Lex.” He shot an amused glance at Natalie that made her feel like she was seven. “Well done, Brett,” he said and clapped his nephew on the shoulder. “You’re keeping the proud McConnell legacy alive, I see.”

  Brett laughed.

  “Uncle Mackie, are you gonna carve pumpkins with us? We’re gonna carve pumpkins next! Please, Uncle Mackie?”

  He picked Lexie up off the chair and plopped her comfortably on his hip. “Probably not, kiddo. It’s my job to talk to the grown-ups.”

  Natalie assumed that comment had been directed at her and her participation in the apple contest. Setting her teeth, she fixedly ignored Ross and turned to Brett. “Brett, does your grandmother have a paper and pencil handy around here? And a magic marker?” As Brett hustled around the kitchen to investigate, Natalie sat down at the kitchen table and continued. “Lexie, what would you like your pumpkin to look like? We’ll draw pictures, and you can choose.”

  Lexie wriggled out of Ross’s arms as Brett returned with paper and pencil. Natalie picked Lexie up and placed her on her lap. Emma and Tess got busy watching Brett draw on his pumpkin—although, really, it looked like they were more intent on looking at handsome Brett.

  “A scary witch? A Halloween cat? A Frankenstein monster? What would you like, Lex?” Natalie quickly sketched out a few ideas and then laid the pencil down to let Lexie study what she’d drawn.

  Natalie noticed Ross take a quick glance at the sketches as well, and she breathed a sigh of relief when he quietly left the kitchen after that.

  “Ooh, I want that one,” Mindy said, grabbing Natalie’s drawing of Frankenstein to use.

  Lexie still hadn’t said anything, so Natalie gave her a quick squeeze and whispered again, “What would you like your pumpkin to look like, honey?”

  Lexie’s fingers had slid into her mouth. She whispered back, “Not scary.”

  “Okay, honey. Not scary.”

  “A princess.”

  A princess. It seemed like only yesterday that Emma and Callie had been Lexie’s age and asking for princesses. “Cal, it looks like we are going to be paid a royal Halloween visit again,” she said.

  Callie giggled, and Emma looked up from what Brett was doing. “Princess Pumpkinseed!”

  “The very lady.”

  “Is she a real princess?” Lexie asked.

  “Oh yes. She is the princess of All Hallows Glen.” It had been an interesting challenge to come up with a nonthreatening Halloween figure Natalie could carve on pumpkins when her girls were little. Princess Pumpkinseed had been the result. Ryan had insisted his own pumpkin be as terrifying as possible, and he and Wade had made it a challenge each year to make the result more and more menacing. The girls would scream and avoid the front porch as long as the “men’s” creation was lurking there. Princess Pumpkinseed had reigned merrily in the kitchen. Back during some of the better times.

  Natalie slid Lexie off her lap onto the chair next to her. “Sit here and I’ll tell you all about her.”

  Lexie propped her head in her hands and listened spellbound as Natalie drew and cut and carved and spun stories of Princess Pumpkinseed, stories Natalie had woven over the years for her own girls’ enjoyment. Eventually, Princess Pumpkinseed sat regally in the center of the kitchen table, surrounded by her royal court: Frankenstein, a traditional Jack, a rather lopsided vampire, and Prince Bart Simpson, his hair forming a perfect jack-o-lanternish crown. But by then, Lexie’s head had settled itself on her crossed arms, and she was sound asleep.

  “I’ll put her on Grandma’s bed,” Brett whispered to Natalie as some of the other grandchildren made their way out of the kitchen, and he gently lifted Lexie into his arms. Natalie nodded and, figuring the coast was probably clear by now, decided to check on things once again. It was past nine, but there were still a surprising number of guests milling about.

  Making rounds through the rooms to clear away refreshment clutter, Natalie refocused on her resolve. She’d enjoyed her time with the kids, but she was here to work tonight. She wasn’t a guest. She headed toward the family room and deliberately set about str
aightening chairs and generally tidying. The band was still playing, and Natalie saw that Mrs. McConnell—Dorothy—was dancing with her grandson Matt. Ross was dancing with five-year-old Regan, her small feet settled atop his while Ross moved to the beat. Jackie and Rick were snuggled closely together, swaying intimately to the music. Looking away, Natalie quickly picked up abandoned clutter left by guests. Eventually, her hands were full of napkins and used plates, so she turned to leave.

  As she started walking out, she heard Dorothy say, “No, no, don’t cut in, Ross. I’m having such a nice time with Matthew here. Find yourself another partner.”

  Natalie was almost to the door when a deep voice behind her quietly said, “Well, you heard the general. Do you know any steps that don’t require tap shoes?”

  When Natalie looked over her shoulder, she saw Ross there, a smile in his eyes and his eyebrows lifted in inquiry. She held up her hands, full of refreshment clutter and shrugged apologetically.

  More than his eyes smiled then, and he took the piles from her and stacked them on the floor. “I’m pretty sure those will still be there after the song ends.”

  He offered her his hand, and she, utterly dumbstruck, took it. She was unprepared for the jolt that ran up her arm.

  The band was playing a slow ballad. The electric shock she’d felt when he’d taken her hand had been nothing compared to the lightning bolt that struck when his other hand slid around her waist. She laid her free hand on his shoulder and willed herself to stop shaking. She wasn’t sure if he had felt it too. She didn’t want to admit to feeling it herself—but she was sure he would sense her tremors if she didn’t get them under control.

  They danced quietly for a minute, and then he said, “The tap lessons must be paying off, Mrs. Forrester. You’re very light on your feet.”

  She was preoccupied with breathing evenly, and it took her a moment before she realized he was making light conversation. “Thank you,” she murmured, then added, “Please, call me Natalie.”

  “Okay. Natalie.” He said it with finality, but he paused a moment. “Not Bob?” he asked.