From the Start

by Cheryl Etchison

  “And Danny is starting school. He’s so excited. Do you remember your first day of kindergarten?”

  Michael shrugged. “I remember Bryan Carson puking during the Pledge of Allegiance.”

  His mom laughed, which made him feel like the king of the world. But then the laughter was replaced with uncontrollable coughing. He hopped up from the chaise and grabbed the glass of lemonade, steadying the bendy straw in case she needed a drink. But with one frail hand she waved it away and he was forced to just stand there, watch, and wait, while for several long moments she struggled to get air in her lungs.

  When she finally settled and her breathing returned to as close to normal as possible, she patted the cushion next to her again and things went back to the way they had been before.

  “Thank you for your help. You take such good care of me,” she said softly, wrapping one arm around him as he leaned his head on her shoulder. “But I need you to take care of your brother, too. Watch out for him. Don’t let your friends or other kids pick on him. Okay? He’s so little. Take care of your brother.”

  “Do I have to go to school? Can’t I stay here with you instead?”

  “You don’t want to do that. You like school. Wouldn’t you miss your friends?”

  He wrapped an arm around her middle, wanting to hug her tight, except he was afraid of hurting her. “I’d miss you more.”

  He felt her body tremble and then heard her sniffle. When she reached for the box of tissues, he realized he’d made her cry.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” he whispered.

  She pressed a kiss to his temple. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

  His cell phone vibrated against the desktop and Michael spun his chair away from the window to grab it. On the screen, a text message from his favorite sister-in-law.

  Come over for dinner? I’m making enchiladas.

  Not one to turn down a home-cooked meal, Michael quickly replied with a yes before turning off his computer and heading out the door. After a quick stop at his apartment to change clothes and another for a bottle of wine, he arrived less than an hour later on his brother’s doorstep and was greeted by the heavenly scent of Bree’s cooking. He rang the doorbell and immediately their newly acquired beast of a dog began barking his fool head off.

  “Back up, Hank,” Bree said as she fought to open the front door. “Come on in.”

  Michael wedged himself through the opening and was immediately assaulted by the one-hundred-thirty-pound French mastiff. Although their rescue dog was fully grown, he still acted like a baby, wasting no time shoving his nose right into Michael’s crotch and wiping drool all over his shorts. “Nice to see you, too, Hank.”

  “Sorry about that. He means well, I promise.” Bree grabbed his collar to pull him away. “Danny just called. He’s right behind you.”

  For other men, killing time with their sister-in-law might prove awkward. Not so for him. Bree had grown up across the street from him and Danny; he’d known her all her life.

  He moved around her as she finished preparing dinner, helping himself to the wine opener from one drawer and a wineglass from the cabinet. He poured her a drink and placed the glass on the island in front of her.

  “What’s this?” she asked with a raised brow. “Aren’t you having some?”

  Michael smiled and reached for the cookie jar instead. “I’d rather have a cookie.”

  Bree shook her head, but gestured with the wineglass in her hand. “Go ahead. They’re peanut butter, made fresh today.”

  They spent the next few minutes chatting about her parents and the ten-state road trip they were taking the following month, as well as the wedding Danny and Bree were attending in Beaufort the following weekend. While they were talking, Danny arrived, greeting Bree with a kiss and Michael with a wave for him before heading off to clean up.

  Bree handed Michael a stack of plates, napkins, and silverware. “So . . .”

  He knew exactly what was coming next by the sly look on her face. She was on the verge of either prying into his personal life or suggesting a blind date.

  “The answer is no,” he replied, before turning his back and setting the table.

  He heard Bree scoff. “I haven’t even asked a question yet.”

  “Well, then, let me expand upon my previous statement and say, ‘No comment.’”

  “You’re absolutely no fun,” she muttered.

  Just as Michael placed the last piece of silverware on the table, Danny arrived in the kitchen.

  “So . . .” Danny began.

  Michael wasted no time cutting him off. “Jesus. You, too?”

  “What?” his brother asked with a smile that had been getting him out of trouble for as long as Michael could remember. “I was just going to ask what happened with Malibu Barbie.”

  Bree laughed as she placed the food on the table. “Oh, my God. That’s an absolutely perfect description of her. She can be the Barbie to your Ken.”

  He loved his brother and his sister-in-law, but damn if the two of them weren’t like peas in a pod. Oh, they were amusing as all get-out, until their tag-teamed sarcasm was directed at him. Then they were annoying as fuck.

  “How much did have you to drink before I got here?” he asked, trying to get in a jab of his own. “I think it’s time to cut you off.” He jokingly reached for her wineglass, but unfortunately, he didn’t intimidate Bree in the least.

  “All we want to know about is the girl from the bar,” she said matter-of-factly. “Any chance you’ll be going out again?”

  “Why does it matter?” Michael asked.

  Danny chuckled. “Denied.”

  “But he said, ‘No comment.’”

  “Come on, sweetheart, you know men better than this,” Danny said, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “That’s guy speak. Clearly he was rejected. Because if they went out he’d say something like ‘she was a psycho’ if he never planned on seeing her again. And if they had plans to see each other, he’d tell you, if only to shut us up.”

  Michael had to try and save face. “We’re going out,” he muttered.

  Danny shook his head, still laughing. “Too late. We already know you’re lying.”

  Bree pulled the steaming hot dish from the oven and walked it over to the table. They all took a seat and began passing items around and spooning food on plates. Things were mostly silent for the next several minutes, the quiet disrupted only by compliments on the meal. But finally, he glanced up from his plate, accidentally making eye contact with her—and immediately he knew it was a mistake.

  “I can’t believe you’re just going to let a little ‘no’ deter you. You know where she lives, right?”

  Michael nearly choked on his last bite of food. “Bree! A woman says no, that’s the end of it. I’m not really interested in a prolonged vacation at the county lockup.”

  “What if you send her a little bouquet of flowers or a card or something with your phone number on it? That wouldn’t be bad, would it?”

  He shook his head. “That still feels like stalking, Bree. Besides, I offered her my phone number and she didn’t want it.”

  Danny barked a laugh, then quickly covered his mouth when his wife shot him a dirty look. Which made Michael chuckle until she turned that look on him.

  “What did you say to her?”

  “I asked if I could give her my number.”

  Bree shook her head. “Nooo. I know you, Michael MacGregor. Everyone else might think you’re a Boy Scout, but I know just how much of an arrogant ass you can really be. What did you actually say to her?”

  If anyone else had spoken to him that bluntly, he’d have told them to fuck off. Instead, her reprimand made him want to hang his head in shame because she was right. So he shared the whole story, including the ugly fact he had suggested a friends-with-benefits situation.

  Bree picked up a potholder from the table and smacked his arm with it. “Michael!”

  “I know, I know.”

/>   He couldn’t blame her for being upset. He sounded like an asshole even to his own ears. Lord knows what she’d have to say about the whiskey dick comment, but no way in hell would he ever own up to that. Ever.

  “How can someone be so smart and yet say something so stupid? It’s no wonder she didn’t want to go out with you again. Heaven forbid a woman doesn’t fall at Michael MacGregor’s feet.”

  He set his fork on his plate and wiped his mouth. “Not much I can do about it now.”

  “Do you like her?” Bree leaned an elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand.

  “Of course I do. Did. It’s why I asked her out.” Michael shrugged helplessly.

  “And I think it’s great that you respect the fact that no means no,” she said to him with a look of understanding. “But I can’t help but wonder if you’re using it as an excuse to avoid putting yourself out there.”

  Michael went to speak and Bree immediately held up a hand, silencing his rebuttal.

  “Listen, all I’m talking about is a small gesture, a little something to apologize for being a bit of a jerk while letting her know you like her. Maybe, if you show a little interest in getting to know her instead of acting like you’re just trying to get her into the sack, you might have some success.”

  Michael stared at his plate while he considered Bree’s words. The truth was, he’d never had to work too hard with women. But was that really a reason to let this go? Just because he was used to being pursued?

  Maybe, for the first time his life, this woman was going to make him work for it. And he ought to rise to the challenge.

  Chapter Six

  With her last patient of the day gone, Kacie dropped into her chair and yanked open the bottom drawer of her desk, grabbing her secret stash of Ghirardelli squares. She quickly unwrapped the pink foil covering the dark chocolate and shoved it in her mouth. Before she even finished the first, she was unwrapping a second.

  It had been that kind of day.

  “If only there was a way to mainline those things.”

  Kacie froze, the chocolate’s progress halted just inches from her mouth. She swiveled around in her desk chair to see her colleague Damien leaning against the doorjamb of the closet-sized office she shared with two other physical therapists.

  “Counting down the days?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she said, answering as best she could around her mouthful of deliciousness. “Eighty-one days counting weekends and holidays.”

  “You have it down to the exact day? Do we need to make you one of those paper chains to hang up in here? You know, the kind schoolteachers use to count down to summer break?”

  Kacie tipped back her chair and rested her head against the seat back. “I’d make room for it.”

  Damien laughed. “I bet you would.” He nabbed a chocolate from the bag and departed with a grin, leaving her to finish her patient notes for the day.

  Working in a standard clinical setting wasn’t something she’d ever enjoyed. Occasionally she’d get those dedicated athletes who were working through their recovery, and she loved helped them to get back out to the competition. But the majority of her patients were middle-aged people who’d hurt themselves while trying to recapture their youth after spending twenty years on the couch, or whose bodies were simply starting to break down due to the aging process.

  When she had chosen physical therapy as a career path, she’d always imagined working with the most challenging medical cases. Those who defied the odds, whose doctors said they’d never walk or run or dance ever again. Those were the patients she wanted.

  But then she’d met a dreamy guy on spring break, and like so many of her friends, her focus shifted.

  By the time she completed her doctorate in physical therapy, she simply wanted out of school, ready to move on with the next phase of her life. Since Mike had been deployed overseas at the time, she returned to her hometown of Savannah and took what she thought would be a temporary position—something to pay the bills until he returned stateside and they got married.

  When he came home seven months later, Mike was assigned to a division only an hour away, in Beaufort, South Carolina. But there was no talk of marriage or even an engagement, so she remained in Savannah. Years passed, and what began as a short-term job became a long-term one. Meanwhile, her boyfriend was dispatched to places all over the world: Hawaii, the Philippines, Okinawa. As his career literally took off, hers stagnated.

  When the relationship finally ended several months earlier, Kacie decided it was the perfect time for not only a more challenging career, but a change of scenery. She applied for and was awarded a highly sought after residency and research fellowship at Duke University. With the first step complete, all that was left now was to get through Sam’s wedding, and the next phase of her own life would begin as well.

  An hour later, after a quick stop at the grocery store, she arrived at her place only to find all the lights on, a sure sign there was a certain uninvited guest in her home. As she shoved her way through the front door with an armload of groceries, she was greeted by her sister lounging on her couch, eating her food, and watching ESPN. While she loved Sam dearly, there were some habits of hers she would not miss. Showing up unannounced, and helping herself to whatever was in the kitchen, were two of them.

  “You’re out of honey-wheat pretzels,” Sam said while waving the bag in the air.

  “Well, hello to you, too.” Kacie kicked the front door closed and dropped her bags on the small breakfast bar between the kitchen and living room. “That bag doesn’t look empty to me.”

  “But it will be when I get done with it.”

  She was tempted to tell her sister to go home to her own place and eat her own food when Sam shouted, “There he is!” and cranked up the volume on the TV.

  The face of Sam’s fiancé—Bryce Elliott—filled the screen as he reported from Tuscaloosa, Alabama. A former quarterback for the University of Georgia and one-time first-round NFL hopeful, Bryce had suffered a career-ending cervical vertebrae fracture in what was his last collegiate game before entering the draft. With pro-football off the table and no desire to coach, Bryce moved into broadcasting, landing a job with a local news station in Savannah. Then, just eighteen months into his new career, ESPN came a-calling, hiring him for the SEC network channel.

  He was a great guy and treated her sister like a princess, but Kacie couldn’t help feeling a touch of resentment over the fact he would be taking Sam away to Atlanta within a matter of weeks. And from there, God only knew. The close relationship she had once shared with her sister was now a shadow of its former self because of him; she’d been effectively and permanently replaced as her sister’s best friend and closest confidante.

  Before she even realized what she was doing, Kacie had torn into a fresh pack of Oreo Double Stuf cookies, cramming one and then another into her mouth. As her luck would have it, the report ended and Sam turned around just in time to catch her in the act.

  “What are you doing?” her sister asked.

  Unable to speak around a mouthful of dark chocolate cookie and vanilla frosting, Kacie could only shake her head in response and try to look as innocent as possible. Of course, Sam wasn’t buying it and vaulted over the back of her sofa, making her way to the kitchen.

  Why her sister found walking around the sofa too much effort, she’d never understand.

  “What is going on with you?” Sam asked while searching through the various plastic bags holding her groceries.

  “Nothing.” Kacie smacked Sam’s hand away from the bags, but her sister was undeterred.

  “You’ve always been the epitome of health. And yet, what do we have here . . .” she began pulling items out. “M&M’s. Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food. That’s in addition to the Oreos you are currently shoving in your piehole like there’s no tomorrow.” Sam held the pint of ice cream in front of her face. “If you keep this up, you won’t fit into your bridesmaid dress.”

  “Pity,” Kacie mumbled
under her breath.

  Sam snatched the pack of Oreos from her hands and shoved it in the bag with the other items. “I’m going to do you a favor and throw all of this crap away because this isn’t you.”

  “It is now!”

  Kacie made a play for the bag, but her sister was expecting the move, swinging her arm out wide to keep her from getting hold of it.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” Sam pleaded.

  Kacie took a deep breath. “Nothing’s wrong. I was hungry and craving chocolate while at the grocery store. Obviously, I went a little overboard, but it’s not as if I was going to eat it all in one sitting.”

  It was true, for the most part—but Kacie was intelligent enough to realize that as her sister’s wedding drew closer, her chocolate consumption was increasing exponentially.

  Sam narrowed her eyes and Kacie fought the urge to laugh, because really, her sister couldn’t intimidate a three-year-old. “You promise you aren’t going to eat all of this the moment I walk out the door?”

  Kacie swiped her index finger twice across her heart.

  After staring at her a moment longer, her sister reluctantly handed over the bag of treats, then took a seat on a bar stool while Kacie put everything away.

  “So . . .” her sister began. “You never said how the rest of your night went after you ditched the ice club.”

  Kacie opened the small pantry and set the box of Special K with chocolate on the shelf.

  Damn. Maybe the problem was worse than she’d realized.

  “Nothing happened,” she answered. “He brought me home and I went to bed.”

  Her sister smiled. “Oh, I don’t doubt that’s exactly what happened.”

  Kacie huffed. “Did you miss the ‘nothing’ part of that sentence?”

  “I didn’t. I just choose not to believe you. Are you trying to tell me he walked you to the door, said good night, and that was it?”

  Kacie reached for another Oreo, but caught her sister watching her. So she sealed up the pack, tossed them in the cabinet, and grabbed a bottled water instead. “He stayed the night, but I swear nothing happened.”