Her Mr. Right?

by Karen Rose Smith

  “I told you I don’t do one-night stands,” she murmured.

  “So why did this happen tonight?” he asked reasonably.

  “You know I’m not staying in Walnut River. You know I’ll be gone when the investigation’s over.”

  “I got caught up in—”

  “In desire? In passion? There’s nothing wrong with that, Isobel.”

  “Yes, there is. When there’s no commitment, it shouldn’t happen. That’s the way I was raised. I want what my parents had.”

  “Life’s too short to wait forever for perfection.”

  The bitterness in his voice surprised her. “Perfection?”

  His hands slashed through the air. “The right place, the right time, the right decade. For a few moments, Isobel, you and I had something special. Wasn’t that good enough?”

  “A few moments isn’t enough for me.”

  Now Neil levered himself off the couch, turned aside, then grabbed his clothes. “You should take your special moments where you can get them.”

  There was pain under his proclamation and she wanted to know where it was coming from. His divorce? “I don’t understand.”

  After a prolonged silence he finally responded. “My brother died when he was twelve. He never had the chance to wait for special moments. He never had the chance to live.”

  “Neil, I’m sorry.”

  Neil pulled on his trousers and buckled his belt. His fingers flew over the buttons of his shirt. “This is my fault. I knew you were a woman with traditional values. I just…I just let my libido wallop my good sense. It won’t happen again.” He looked at her. “But just for the record, Isobel. I had no ulterior motive. I wanted you because I’m attracted to you. And that has nothing to do with the investigation.”

  Isobel picked up her clothes, too, and shrugged into her blouse without her bra. But before she could even button it, Neil was completely dressed and had gathered his laptop and files. “I’ll see you around the hospital.”

  She was confused, not sure of his motives and not sure of hers. She simply didn’t know what to say.

  She didn’t have to say anything because he left without another word. She knew she wouldn’t be seeing him at the hospital, not unless she searched him out. But what was the point? To help him? He didn’t really need her help and she…she couldn’t let him make love to her again without losing her heart.

  She realized she wouldn’t mind losing it. She just didn’t want Neil to crush it.

  On Monday morning at 7:00 a.m., Isobel stopped by Pine Ridge Rehab to peek in on Florence and see how she was adjusting since her move there last week.

  West’s mother was having breakfast. Florence’s face lit up when she saw Isobel. “Did you come to have breakfast with me?”

  “I already had breakfast.” If she could count the glass of orange juice as breakfast. “So I’ll just keep you company and find out how you like it here.”

  “The food’s pretty good,” Florence told her, taking another bite of her pancakes. “But you know what? They make me walk.” She pointed to her walker. “I’m beginning to hate that thing.”

  Isobel smiled. “Soon you’ll graduate to a cane and then to nothing at all.”

  “I’ll have to be very careful when I go home.”

  Isobel went on alert. “Very careful of what?” she asked softly, not wanting to jar Florence out of her confiding mood.

  The little woman took a piece of bacon, crunched on it a while, and answered, “A while back, I left a pot on the stove. It scared West. When he came home, he said he smelled something awful.”

  “What were you making?”

  “I was cooking noodles and all the water burned away. He said if he hadn’t come in when he did, we would have had a fire.”

  This was exactly the kind of thing Isobel was worried about. If Florence was becoming that forgetful that she would cause herself harm, she had to be watched. “Can you tell me something, Florence?”

  “What would you like to know, dear?” Florence picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, then settled the cup back down again. She pushed her tray toward Isobel. “Are you sure you don’t want a slice of bacon?”

  “I’m sure, but thank you for asking.” Isobel thought about how she should phrase her question. She didn’t want it to be in any way threatening or even nosy, because then Florence would clam up. “When I was driving in this morning, I noticed the daffodils blooming. You have those in your garden, don’t you?”

  “Well, yes, I do. I love the smell. I have a favorite vase I use to put them in the middle of the kitchen table.”

  “Do you walk up and down your street very often? To see the flowers? It’s good exercise, too.”

  “West doesn’t like me going out alone for walks.”

  “He doesn’t? Is he afraid you’ll fall?”

  Florence stared down at her pancakes for a long time. Finally in a small voice, she admitted, “One time when I took a walk outside, I ended up over on Maple and couldn’t get back home. Mrs. Johnson was out for her walk and she saw me, so she showed me the way home.”

  “Did West know you’d gotten…lost?”

  “Oh, yes. She told him and that’s why he doesn’t like me to leave the house when he’s not there. But I do sometimes. I just don’t tell him. The thing is, that’ll be harder now. He’s already found someone to stay with me when I go home. I guess she’ll take walks with me.”

  So West was aware of the care his mother needed. Thank goodness.

  Isobel checked her watch and stood. “I really have to be going.”

  “So soon?”

  “I’m sure after breakfast you’ll be starting your therapy and you’ll be busy, too.”

  “I just want to get well.”

  As Isobel gave Florence a hug and said goodbye, she realized how coherent and lucid Florence had been today. Isobel hoped her good days kept outnumbering her bad ones.

  Yesterday Isobel had taken a ride to the cemetery before going to dinner at Debbie’s for Mother’s Day. She had felt the loss of her mom all day. She was glad West was doing everything he could for Florence while he still had her to love.

  Though Isobel had been busier than busy all day, her work load didn’t prevent thoughts of Neil from sneaking in, from capturing her at the first unguarded moment, from lingering in her mind underneath everything else. When she least expected them, pictures of her and Neil popped into her head: as they sat side by side in her dad’s sunporch, as they’d kissed, as Neil had undressed her, as she’d made love to him.

  She also remembered every word she’d said to him…her accusation…his reply. Most of all, his comment about his brother. He never had the chance to wait for special moments.

  Was it any wonder she was hesitant to see Neil again? His office was on the same floor as hers but on the other side of the building. It was well after six and personnel from the fourth floor had mostly gone home. Maybe Neil had left, too. Avoiding him, though, would only postpone the inevitable.

  She stopped in the restroom to make sure her hair was in some semblance of order, to add a dash of lipstick, to make certain her flowered spring dress still looked presentable. Telling herself to stop stalling, she headed for Neil’s office. As she glimpsed the closed door, she thought maybe he had left. Then she saw his shadow through the frosted-glass window, and she knocked.

  His “Come in” could have been for anyone. After she turned the knob and stepped inside, Neil’s head came up from his computer and his gaze locked to hers.

  “Are you busy?” she asked, and as soon as she did, she understood what a totally silly question that was. Of course, he was busy. Papers were spread all over the table and he’d been typing something on his laptop.

  He pressed a key, typed a few letters, and pressed another. “I have a few minutes. What can I do for you?”

  He could kiss her again. He could tell her he understood her fears about getting involved with him. He could say he forgave her for making the wrong assumptio
n.

  She didn’t know where to start, but she could see he wasn’t going to help her. She walked over to the chair on the other side of the table from him, pulled it around the corner so she was facing him. She sat in it because her knees were wobbly.

  He looked away, adjusted a few papers into a pile, and didn’t bring his gaze back to hers.

  To save them both any more uncomfortable moments, she said, “I’m sorry.”

  If she thought that would soften the set of his jaw, the guarded look in his eyes, she was wrong. “About what? You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who should have known better. I should have stayed away from you.”

  If he had stayed away from her, she would never have known how beautiful making love could be. At least, that’s what she’d been doing. “I’m sorry for what I thought and said.”

  He shifted in his chair, ran one hand agitatedly through his hair. “Did you honestly think I’d have sex with you to get information? And don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear. I want the truth.”

  What was the truth? “On a deep level, I didn’t think that. I never would have let anything happen if I had any real suspicions. But afterward, on another level, I was scared and unsure and regretful. Believing you just wanted to use me helped…it helped me push you away.”

  Maybe Neil wasn’t used to that kind of honesty because he looked very surprised. “I can’t believe you’re admitting that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  His serious eyes searched her face and then he seemed to relax a bit. “I wanted you, Isobel. That’s why I was carrying a new condom. But I was also afraid I’d taken advantage of you. I’m the one in a position of power and—”

  “Says you,” she cut in.

  Surprised again, he smiled. “You think you have some power?”

  “Of course, I do. I’m the one who decides what I do and who I do it with. Your position has nothing to do with that.”

  He grinned slyly and she felt her whole face heat up. “You know what I mean.”

  Leaning forward, he took her hand and looked down at it. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to push you into something that isn’t right for you.”

  Now, with Neil simply holding her hand, she wasn’t sure what was right for her and what wasn’t. “Last night, you mentioned you had a brother who died. How long ago did that happen?”

  Releasing her hand, he stood and went to look out the window at the grounds below. She had the feeling he wasn’t seeing anything out there. “Is that something else you don’t want to talk about…like your father?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You listen too well and see too much.”

  She could tell him she’d been practicing for years, that listening well and seeing a lot was part of her job. Not only part of her job, but who she was. But she knew he didn’t want to hear that.

  After the silence had stretched a little longer, he answered her. “It was the summer before my senior year in high school. Garrett had just turned twelve. He’d gone fishing with a friend at the river. No one was sure exactly what happened, whether he lost his footing, or whether he and his friend were simply fooling around as boys do. But he got towed by a strong current and drowned.”

  Unable to stay across the room from him, Isobel rose to her feet and crossed to Neil. “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “Was it just the two of you, no other brothers or sisters?”

  Neil nodded and finally looked at her. “Just the two of us. I was an only child, groomed to be the perfect son my father wanted, until Garrett was born when I was six. He and I were very different. No one could resist Garrett from the moment he was born.”

  Isobel filled in what Neil wasn’t saying. “At six, your parents didn’t feel you needed much attention, so the baby got it all?”

  Neil shrugged. “I’ve got to admit, I was happy as an only child. I loved Garrett and would have done anything for him because I fell under his charm, too. He was a great kid, always happy, everybody’s friend. But more than once, I wished he wasn’t around.”

  “Oh, Neil, don’t tell me you felt guilty when he died.”

  “Wouldn’t you have felt guilty? I know it was irrational. I didn’t have anything to do with what had happened, but I still felt responsible. If I had been with him that day instead of with my friends…He’d asked me to go along. But I wanted to hang with guys who were making college plans and telling the most popular girls about them. I grew up the day Garrett died. I started to learn what was important and what wasn’t.”

  Her heart went out to the teenager Neil had been. She also realized he carried that sense of responsibility with him today.

  “How did your parents react to losing Garrett?”

  “They were never the same. Their marriage was never the same. My dad was never overly demonstrative or even generous with compliments. But after we lost Garrett, he became even more remote, closed off from Mom and me. God knows I tried to make up for their loss. I had concentrated on basketball and the debate team. Garrett ran track. So I added that to my schedule too. Even won a few trophies. But nothing seemed to impress my father. At first I intended to be a lawyer and follow in dad’s footsteps, but then when I saw it didn’t matter what I did, I decided to do what made me feel successful. That’s why I joined the Boston P.D.”

  “Have you and your father ever talked about all this?”

  Neil just shook his head. “He didn’t seem to want to hear what I had to say.”

  “What did he say when you told him you weren’t going to be a lawyer?”

  “He said that he’d give the money he’d put aside for my law-school degree to a local scholarship fund.”

  “Did he know why you weren’t becoming a lawyer? Or did he just see it as rebellion against what he wanted?”

  “I don’t know what he thought or how he felt. My mother knew I was tired of school and I wanted a real life. I got it. Being a detective showed me more than I ever wanted to see. When I hit thirty-eight, I wanted something different, maybe a life with someone. So I took the job with the state.”

  “And you like what you’re doing?”

  “I still like it, at least the gathering-evidence part of it. When I’m questioning someone, I’m pitting my mind against theirs. It’s a challenge.”

  Neil was definitely a complicated man. No one went through life without baggage and he had his share. But she knew he was an honorable man. Her accusations had been defensive rationalization on her part.

  The longer they stood there, the more heat she could feel surrounding them. Making love hadn’t diminished it. In fact, it had hiked up the vibrations to a new level.

  The look in Neil’s eyes told her he was thinking about kissing her again, but he was restraining himself because she’d told him that wasn’t what she’d wanted. She’d told him she didn’t want an involvement.

  What good can come of it if he’ll be leaving? she asked herself again.

  His voice was gruff as he said, “You’d better go.”

  She mumbled, “I just wanted to apologize.”

  He nodded, standing perfectly still, his arms straight at his sides.

  Her throat tightening, Isobel hurriedly left Neil’s office.

  If he had called her name, she would have turned back. She would have surrendered to the feelings that seemed right and wrong and everything in-between.

  But he didn’t, and tears of disappointment and regret filled her eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  Breathless from exertion, Isobel opened the back door and stepped into the kitchen. Even though it was only 6:45 a.m., her father was sitting at the table reading the morning paper.

  “You’re up early,” he remarked as his gaze swept over her windblown hair, light jacket and workout pants.

  She knew he expected an explanation. “I’m going to start cycling regularly again. This morning was the first.”

  “How many miles did you do?”

  “Five. I’ll add one e
ach day.”

  “Pretty soon you’ll be getting up at three in the morning to cycle.”

  “I do have some common sense, Dad. I know I need sleep before I can work.”

  “What’s brought back this sudden interest in bicycling?”

  She went to the refrigerator and took out a quart of orange juice. “No sudden interest. I’d wanted to get back to it. I need the exercise.”

  “Or maybe you just want to get into better shape for a certain gentleman investigator?”

  Was that what she was doing? She shook her head. “No, that’s not the reason. I’ve been slacking off.”

  “You could have fooled me. You usually run around here so fast going from one thing to the other, it makes my head spin.”

  “I’ve been slacking off in taking care of myself.”

  Her father went silent for a few moments, and then said,

  “Because you’ve been taking care of me.”

  “No, Dad, of course not. Life has just gotten busy and I let exercise get lost in the shuffle, that’s all.”

  His brows arched. “And Neil is showing you what you need in your life?”

  “Let’s just leave Neil out of this, okay?” She poured a glass of juice and quickly downed it.

  Her father was still studying her. “You can fool yourself, but you can’t fool me…about anything. I know you’d rather be living on your own, not having anyone to answer to or do for. Maybe we should consider—”

  “Stop telling me what I want, Dad. I’m perfectly happy living here with you, helping you when you need it. Pretty soon that shoulder’s going to be better and you’ll be driving again.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll still be sixty-eight with creaky bones and arthritis and you’ll worry about me. Seriously, Isobel, you should think about getting your own place again.”

  She could see her dad wasn’t going to let this go until she agreed with him. “I’ll think about it.”

  After a few moments her father informed her, “You don’t have to worry about supper tonight. A few friends are coming over. We’ll order pizza.”