A Captivating Conundrum

by Amy Lignor

  The unexpected clapping was what sent the bowl of batter crashing to the floor.

  ~ His ~

  The run was exhilarating, and after the power shower that supplied scalding hot water, my muscles felt like they'd grown younger by ten years.

  When I first heard the voice, I thought it was an angel, so I began to wonder if I'd actually had a heart attack while on my run and was sitting in some driveway being given mouth-to-mouth by the old fisherman.

  But when I came around the corner searching for the source of the beautiful notes, my breath caught in my throat once more. Against the explicit orders I gave to myself, my eyes traveled down her form, taking in the perfect figure that I thought only came with lots of pills and constant workouts. The black shorts and top she was wearing fit perfectly, showing every single curve as she moved in time with the music in her head. The curve of her neck was graceful when she flipped the dark auburn waves to one side; the lightly tanned skin and the delicate earlobe looked perfect to nibble on. I imagined my hands encircling her waist and massaging the soft skin with my tongue.

  The song stopped, pulling me out of the trance I sincerely wanted to stay in, relishing the thought of what I could massage next.

  Walking to the chair I quickly sat down, trying to cover the one part of me that was attempting to say 'good morning' to the beauty in my midst. I began to clap. As Beth turned around in surprise, she knocked the bowl to the floor.

  Standing up, squinting from the pain, I ran to her side. "I am SO sorry."

  "It's okay." She offered a smile framed by the red lips that, I swear, were as luscious as the strawberries piled on the counter. "It's okay, really. I'm clumsy."

  "No, I startled you like a jerk." Picking up the pieces, I felt a sudden twinge in my gut. "Please tell me this wasn't like an heirloom, or something."

  Beth began to laugh. "Actually, it was an heirloom from long ago that we found while antiquing in this amazing store in New York State."

  "Shit," I mumbled.

  Placing her finger under my chin, she lifted my gaze to hers. "It was called Wal-Mart."

  I sighed. "Very funny."

  "Ha!"

  "Thanks a lot," I said, heading back to the table. "You scared me."

  She winked. "Right back at ya,' babe."

  All I wanted was to pick her up, wrap those long legs around me, and use the next forty-eight hours to make her pay for her little joke.

  Her smile stayed firmly planted on her face, as she grabbed a mug and brought me a cup of coffee.

  "I could have gotten it."

  She grinned. "I don't want to take the chance. Some of these mugs came all the way from the Dollar Store a while back. They're very important to me."

  I shot her a glare, as she sat down across from me.

  "Bed okay?" She took a sip of her coffee.

  God how I wish that sentence meant something else. "It was great. Thank you. The room is absolutely beautiful."

  "Glad you're comfortable." She kept staring at me, as if studying every feature of my face. Figuring 'what's fair is fair,' I kept my eyes fixed on her.

  "You just get up?"

  She nodded.

  I smiled. "Don't you ever look bad?"

  The blush crept slowly into her cheeks and the chocolate brown gaze immediately fell to the cup before her. She took a deep breath and a long sip of coffee, as if searching for a quick change of subject. It was completely endearing.

  "You should see me after I type for a few days straight. The hair makes Freud's look like George Clooney's, and the eyes are so bugged out on caffeine, I could easily fit in with the audience at Woodstock."

  I started to laugh.

  "And I won't even mention the Ben-Gay."

  "Ben-Gay?"

  She sat back in her chair. "Hell, yeah. When my pinched nerve erupts after all that typing, I bathe in the stuff. This whole lavender thing is just a cove; I can make your eyes water. Sit in the same room with me for five minutes and you'll feel like you're going through the menthol DT's…shakin' like a squirrel staring into the open jaws of a really pissed-off bobcat." She set her elbows on the table and leaned in closer. "And just like that squirrel, you'll drop your nuts in a heartbeat."

  The coffee spewed from my lips as I bellowed with laughter, providing a coffee bath to the exquisite being sitting across from me.

  Beth laughed so hard she fell off her chair, as I tried to apologize through my tears.

  "Don't worry about it," she gasped. "Better than a coffee enema. At least, I would think so."

  She stood up. "Your pancakes will have to wait a sec. I need a shower." Patting me on the shoulder and wiping coffee from her eyes, she disappeared from the room.

  I'd never wanted to follow someone so much in my entire life.

  ~***~

  Beth's fun laughter continued upstairs, yet another quality I really wanted to have in my life on a daily basis. I loved that laugh. Most women, let's face it, would've had a heart attack and stomped out the door if I'd showered them with java.

  The large man appearing around the corner almost created my third accident of the morning.

  "What's all the noise down here?" Bobby sent me a nod, as he headed to the coffee pot.

  "Your girl is funny."

  He smiled. "Yeah, she can come up with them. Must be the writer in her." Sitting down across from me, he grinned. "Or, it could just be that she's a sarcastic pain in the butt. What do you think?"

  I stared into a face that looked like a father who'd just started the dreaded 'third degree.'

  "I think she's hysterical and sweet. I think her heart must be huge to allow us to stay here. And the piece she wrote, as well as her books lining the shelves across the country, tell me she's highly intelligent and has an amazing imagination. And she can sing.

  "Caught her in one, did ya'?"

  "When I came down this morning she was into a lullaby."

  Bobby grinned. "Maybe you can sing a duet?"

  "That would be up to her."

  Sitting back in the chair, Bobby's face grew a bit serious. "Everything is."

  "What?"

  "Up to her."

  I raised my eyebrows. "You saying she orders you about? Bad boss, is she?"

  Bobby sighed; looking up at the ceiling as if searching for the words he needed to make his point. I had a feeling Bobby wanted to make sure I knew, no matter what he personally thought of Chris and I, that Beth was the main thought on his mind. "She's tough."

  I nodded.

  "She had to be," Bobby added.

  I wanted to start screaming questions, needing to know what made the woman who seemed to be buried under my skin. "Rough past?"

  He pursed his lips. "Nah, nothing like that. I mean, not what you're thinking. Beth had a great family."

  "Had?"

  "Well, her sister lives out West but other than that, Beth's alone. I mean, she's got me and Nicole, and an entire town that counts on her for just about everything from advice to friendship to hot soup when they're sick."

  I felt warm inside.

  "And Amber," he continued. "Amber's a young lady who kind of took over Beth's life. She loves her to death and that's why this show is so important to her."

  "I know," I stated. "I liked Amber. Sounds like a future diva, in fact."

  Bobby laughed. "Oh, yeah…and with Nicole being so close to her all the time in New York she certainly has the right coach for eventual 'diva-dom.'"

  "How'd Amber meet Beth?" My need to know kept the questions coming.

  "Actually it was kind of funny," Bobby replied. "Beth was in her one and only NYPL Rose Main Reading Room and a group of children were coming in for some program, or something. The group was from the orphanage and Amber was one of them. When she walked by Beth's table she became enthralled by a book Beth had laid out in front of her."

  "What book?"

  Bobby smiled. "It was a huge book of the galaxies, planets, stars…things like that. That was the day Beth was stud
ying Plato and the 'hidden' messages in his writings. I think she was trying to tie him in with Cleopatra's mines that archaeologists had unearthed."

  I snorted, "So just a little light reading."

  "Exactly. You wouldn't believe the amount of information stored in that brain of hers."

  "I bet it would take me the next fifty years to even scratch the surface." And I hope I get that chance.

  Bobby nodded, studying my face as if seeing something for the first time. "Anyway, Amber sat down right beside her and started talking about the huge book. Beth always said it was hysterical because it was like being grilled by a professor." A smile lit his face. "I think it was love at first sight between the two of them; ever since that day Beth has been working really hard to get that little girl a family."

  "Too bad Beth just doesn't adopt her," I suggested.

  Bobby sighed. "Beth wants Amber to have the two-parent, white picket fence, perfect life."

  "Oh," I replied, seeing that image in my head of my own dream. "Gotcha."

  "She should be a mom," Bobby added. "She'll be a great one someday."

  I cleared my throat. "Actually, I'm kind of surprised eight million men haven't tried to drug her if they had to just to get her down the aisle."

  A high-pitched groan came from behind the wall, as Chris appeared around the corner. Dragging himself into the kitchen, he headed to the coffee pot. For a young guy he certainly could evoke the drama of a put-upon slave.

  "What time is it?" Chris moaned.

  I laughed. "It's past nine."

  Throwing himself into the chair beside me as if he was a body being lifted from the icy cold Atlantic after the Titanic sank, he practically cried, "Are you kidding? What are we all doing up so early?"

  I shot a glance at Bobby, noticing the soft gaze he sent to Chris.

  "Actors need beauty sleep." Chris glared at me. "It's a proven fact."

  I patted him on the shoulder. "I think you can suffer through. Besides, don't you always tell me you're cute enough already?"

  He shrugged. "This is true. The day I was created the man, woman, or whatever was responsible, knew exactly what it was doing."

  Sometimes I wanted to tell Chris his ego was too large, but it wasn't. I knew inside he was simply a young man loving life, and erased anything bad or even the slightest bit dismal from his world by being as vibrant as possible.

  Chris looked around. "So where's the Lovely? Or, is she the only smart one in this house who stays in bed?"

  I stood up and went to the counter. "She's taking a shower."

  "Hmmm…"

  I looked over at him. "What?"

  He raised his cup in the air like Oliver Twist. "Nothing. More please."

  Beth appeared; her hair was a bit damp and she was dressed in old, faded denim and a black t-shirt. I swear, she could head straight to the Oscars in that outfit and still be the most stunning one there.

  Kissing Bobby on the cheek, she sent a smile to Chris. "Good morning, my lovely."

  She stared across the counter at me. "So what kind of man are you?"

  The coffee I was swallowing didn't quite go down. Beth picked up a towel and put it quickly in front of her face.

  She peeked around the side. "You okay?"

  I nodded, trying to ignore the scalding trail down my throat.

  "Let me rephrase." She turned to Chris. "Blueberry, Banana, Strawberry? What kind of man are you? What's your flavor?"

  Chris's eyes grew wide as a small line of drool began to form at the corner of his mouth. "Are you talking pancakes?"

  Beth laughed. "Yeah."

  "You're—" he cleared his throat. "You cook?"

  Bobby spoke first. "My favorite's chocolate chip."

  Chris's gaze flew to Bobby, as he began twitching in his seat. "You make chocolate chip pancakes?"

  Beth shrugged. "I figured only Bobby would like those."

  Chris shook his head. "I would love chocolate chip pancakes!"

  "Then, that is what ye shall have," she laughed.

  Clapping his hands, Chris jumped from the chair, raced around the table and threw himself into Beth's arms. "You are the best."

  I leaned against the cupboard watching the two virtual strangers act as if they were the best of friends. Beth reached up and patted him on the head, sending him back to the table with a soft command.

  Chris's face was filled with glee. I couldn't blame him. After all, if 'whatever' had a 'good' day when it'd created Chris, then it must have had the best damn day of its whole life when it'd brought Beth into the world.

  Ten

  ~ Hers ~

  The pancakes were frying, the next pot of coffee was brewing, and I was actually enjoying the banter going on between Bobby and Chris. They were laughing and trading stories about everything from high school to Broadway, and my heart felt like it was going to explode with happiness when I heard Bobby's carefree voice. Chris seemed to bring out a new life in him I hadn't seen before, and it felt good.

  As I set yet another plate of pancakes down in front of Chris, he gave me that puppy-dog grin. It'd taken me only minutes to learn that most of his bravado was simply a defense mechanism to stop people in their tracks. And as the hours progressed, I watched his mask completely fall away, leaving behind a young man having a relaxed day with no worries.

  My other guest…well, he was still a bit tough to figure out. Matt was sitting there swapping stories, having fun and laughing up a storm with Chris and Bobby when I put his special order down in front of him and he turned those eyes on me—which had turned to silver with his gray t-shirt firmly in place. "Thank you."

  The face was contented. Yet another look I hadn't seen before. Clearing my throat, wiping my mind clean and clear, and walking as far away from the gaze that seemed to turn me into a silly girl, I took the bowl of fruit from the fridge and sat down across from Chris.

  "That's all you're going to eat?" Chris inquired, as he shoved another huge forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

  "I love fruit." I replied, popping a strawberry. The one thing I could count on in this neck of the woods was the Farmer's Market would always supply the best berries, peaches, apples—even corn on the cob; the stuff was absolute heaven.

  "But you didn't eat anything at our lunch meeting or for dinner last night, unless you sneak around in the wee hours and gorge," Matt's voice sounded concerned.

  I popped a grape. "I do, but that's only on Saturday nights when the moon is full."

  Bobby snickered.

  Matt grinned. "Vampire, are you?"

  "Nope, cow-tipping."

  Bobby choked on his pancake and reached for his coffee, as Chris sent me a smile from across the table. "Small town farm girl?"

  "No…just like tipping cows. Little hobby of mine," my voice was completely dry. "Although, what I would like to do on a Saturday night is head straight to the city and shove a pitchfork up Nicole's ass. THAT would be an evening to remember!" I said, holding up my coffee mug in salute.

  Chris reached out and took my hand. "You are adorable." His eyes suddenly lit up. "Do you shop?"

  "Well, we have groceries in the house, so…yeah."

  "No, silly. I mean are there malls out here in the middle of nowhere?"

  I sat back. "Of course. The rich need places to send their servants to. You wouldn't want them to be without their cognac or cigars in the middle of the night."

  "Don't like rich people?" Matt asked.

  I thought back over my experiences. "Not at all, rich is fine. Actually, I don't hate anything except stupid."

  Matt smiled. "Everyone should go to Harvard?"

  "I mean common sense stupid. People don't need to know the theories behind physics—hell, I don't know the theories behind physics—but when people have absolutely no common sense and stare up at you with that glazed expression, it's really annoying. Let's just say that some of the rich I met as a youngster were just about the dumbest breed ever created. Even your L.A. surgically-enhanced babes pr
obably have a better grasp of the real world than those guys did."

  I stared at Matt's face. He looked as if he was picturing those high-heeled, low-brained girls and wanted to defend them, but he just smiled. Apparently, he had nothing. "What were they like?"

  "Well, let's see…one of them wanted to play 'gentleman farmer' and planted a field of flowers without any help. He couldn't understand why they weren't coming up and asked my father what was wrong."

  "Bad seed?"

  "Nope. He'd planted the bulbs upside down."

  Chris snickered. "At least the squirrels, rabbits and groundhogs had lovely daffodil-filled dwellings."

  I nodded. "True. Or. Satan had a lovely ceiling down in Hell. Oh, and the lady of the manor wanted to cook Thanksgiving dinner once and bought a turkey that could literally feed Broadway. She looked at my mother and said, 'I should probably keep this bird in for a couple of hours, huh?'"

  "Eww," Matt uttered.

  "Right? We had the local ambulance standing by when they all celebrated 'Turkey Day' with salmonella poisoning."

  Bobby turned away from the dishes. "It never got that far, remember? The dining room?"

  The image slammed back into my head. "That's right! The lady of the manor had first spent a ton of dinero to update the dining room before her party. Spent some god-awful amount on wallpaper that was hand-painted over in Europe somewhere; it was scenes of a foxhunt."

  Chris shrugged. "Very British countryside chic."

  I grinned. "This was a foxhunt right out of CSI. We're talking deer hanging over horses, and pools of blood dripping on the hounds as that sat by their masters' sides. It was like Freddy Krueger visits the Queen. Bleck."

  Matt laughed out loud, and I was suddenly wishing that he was closer to me so I could see the warmth in those eyes.

  I shook the thought away. "Her Thanksgiving guests had gotten all liquored up waiting for dinner, and when she sat them down in the dining room most of them ended up puking way before they could ingest any turkey, so it was actually alcohol poisoning that brought them to the ER."

  "Sounds like some real winners." Matt smiled.

  "Good for a laugh, though. Just shows you money doesn't buy brains."