Love Finds You in Carmel by-the-Sea, California

by Sandra D. Bricker

  “And what about Evan?” Zoey asked, rubbing a comforting circle on Annie’s back. “Are we over him?”

  “Yeah. Evan’s not The One.”

  “Yes, I know.” Annie looked up at her, and Zoey grinned. “I’m just glad to know you know it, too.”

  “I do.”

  “And Colby Barnes?”

  “Colby’s beautiful. And successful. And he drives a great car.”

  “But?”

  “Yeah. But he’s not The One either. I just can’t get past that picture of him at my door that night. Having a little tantrum, like a teenaged boy who didn’t get what he wanted.”

  “Me either.” Their eyes met for a moment, and Zoey smiled lovingly. “He was out of line.”

  “I know.”

  “What about Nick? Are you thinking he might be The One?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Or maybe he’s just The One You Can’t Have?”

  Annie wanted to object, but she didn’t have the energy. “Who knows.”

  “You know,” Zoey began, pausing as she bit her lip, “Mateo hired a new guy to help with the administrative things over at the warehouse.”

  “Zoey, that’s great!”

  “His name is Randall Burgi. He goes by Rand.”

  Annie lifted her head slowly, narrowing her eyes, wondering if Zoey might be headed in the direction that she seemed to be—

  “He’s very cute. And you know, he’s coming over for dinner tomorrow night. Why don’t you come too? Mateo is making salmon on the grill.”

  “Are you kidding me with this?”

  “He’s just a nice guy, Annie. And it’s just dinner.”

  “Dinner.”

  “And options. Options are always nice, right?”

  Annie dropped her head into her arms again, but this time she started to laugh. And the laughter built until it felt almost maniacal somehow.

  “Forget it, Zo.”

  “Annie.”

  “For–get—it. No more boys. No more options, or my brain will explode.”

  Annie signed online to check e-mail, and a news headline waited there, just for her:

  TOO MUCH DIET SODA CAN BE A BUZZKILL FOR WEIGHT MANAGEMENT.

  Okay, take my donuts and pizza and all the tacos on the planet. Even my mom’s cinnamon rolls. But leave my Diet Coke alone.

  Sherman bounced into the room as if he had news too, then plopped down to the floor beside her and rolled over to one side.

  “Somewhat anticlimactic, boy.”

  He looked up at her momentarily and stretched.

  Merideth had attached the picture of Annie and Doris Day to one e-mail and then sent a second one telling Annie about a twofor-one on a package deal at a local spa. The third came from Evan, a bit unusual for him since he didn’t normally appreciate the more technical sides of life. Things like e-mail and faxes and digital cameras—all were somewhat of an abomination to Evan despite the fact that he fancied himself a bit of a Renaissance man.

  “I’ll bet you’re surprised to get an e-mail from me, huh?” he said.

  He read my mind.

  “You’ve been a little hard to catch up with these days, and I thought this might be a better idea than just dropping by or leaving another voice mail.”

  Fluent in EvanSpeak, Annie recognized the underlying message: Evan felt neglected.

  “Next week’s retrospective is on Cary Grant,” he wrote. “And I know you’ll want to be there for that. They’re playing Charade and To Catch a Thief, the latter being one of your favorites and a great one to see on the big screen. Can we set aside a night to go? It’s on me. I’ll even get the popcorn and soda.”

  Annie determined there and then to make the date with Evan. He may not have turned out to be the right man for her, but the friendship had so many aspects worth salvaging. Hitting the Reply button, she tapped out her response.

  “You’ve got a date. How about Wednesday night?”

  DELETE, DELETE, DELETE to the spam junking up her mailbox, then she opened the last one, an e-mail from Linda and Ted.

  “Can’t tell yet whether it’s a niece or a nephew, but Baby’s first photo is attached.”

  She downloaded the file and watched as a surprisingly clear sonogram picture slowly revealed itself. The baby, turned on its side, looked like a little peanut of a fetus, and her heart swelled as she viewed it. Tracing it on the screen with her finger, realization set in.

  This is Ted’s son or daughter. My baby brother…is having a baby of his own.

  Annie felt so selfish, and before another minute ticked by, she snatched up the phone from its cradle and pressed number four on the speed dial.

  “Linda? It’s Annie. I just got the photo.”

  They chatted for nearly twenty minutes before Linda put Ted on the line at Annie’s request. Not much of a telephone conversationalist, Annie’s brother. But something needed to be said.

  “I want you to know how happy I am for you and Linda, Ted. I really mean that.”

  “Thanks, Annie. That means a lot.”

  “It was a little daunting,” she confessed. “You got married before I did, and now you’re having babies before me.”

  “But you’ve always been slow, sis. We all understand.”

  They both broke into laughter at that, and it did Annie’s heart good to share a moment like this with her brother when there had been so much unnecessary distance between them over the years.

  “I love you, Annie,” he told her. “I know you don’t think I do, but I do.”

  Too stunned to reply at first, Annie sighed.

  “Linda loves you too.”

  “And I love you both right back,” she told him in earnest. “And your little peanut too.”

  “It does look like a peanut, doesn’t it?” he cried. “Linda swatted at me when I said that, but it’s a perfectly shaped peanut shell!”

  Linda objected in the background, and their laughter harmonized into music.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Lions, tigers, and bears? Oh my!”

  Judy Garland, The Wizard of Oz, 1939

  Annie changed into a tie-dyed T-shirt and denim shorts. Her head bobbed from one shoulder to the other, keeping time with the music wafting through her head as she tore lettuce, chopped tomatoes and cucumbers, and tossed whole green olives haphazardly into a large porcelain bowl. She squeezed a little ranch dressing into the mix then vaulted up to the counter, her legs swinging as she mixed the salad with an ornate fork.

  Sherman eyed her torturously, deprived of his favorite snack. He cocked his head to the side, one ear tilted back and the other pushed forward, and he let out one solid yelp.

  The lyrics of the song she sang broke up with guffaws as Annie watched him, so intent as he was on the lettuce clinging to her fork that she could easily make him dizzy just by conducting with it above his head. When he began to whine mournfully, Annie gave in and tossed him one large lettuce leaf. Received like a prime-rib dinner, Sherman lapped it up.

  “You are a very strange dog.”

  Sherman didn’t break eye contact for even a moment. He didn’t blink, didn’t even flinch, as he waited for another delectable bite of lettuce.

  “Seriously, Sherman. You’re psycho.”

  He panted for a moment, and it looked like doggie laughter.

  Annie sighed then moved to the refrigerator and foraged through the items on all four glass shelves. Finally! At the back of the bottom shelf, she found the treasure for which she searched: one lone can of caffeine-powered soda.

  The good stuff.

  She snatched her prize and headed into the parlor, flipping on the television. She helped Sherman up next to her as Ty Pennington began yelling to another needy family through a megaphone.

  “It’s on, Gram. Are you coming?”

  Annie stopped at the hospital for a leisurely visit with Deke before work, and she learned that he would be released before the week’s end. She arrived at the office afterward a few minutes
earlier than her usual start time, her arms loaded with her purse, satchel, and a bakery bag. She dropped everything to the desk, opened the blinds on the window behind her desk, and sauntered over to the mini-fridge to grab a Diet Coke.

  Frozen in silence, she could only just stand there, gawking into the gaping refrigerator. She wanted to scream, but it pushed up and out of her as a simple, horrified grunt.

  Not a single aluminum can in sight. Not one. Instead, neat stacks of water bottles, juices, and yogurt filled the fridge to capacity.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” she finally managed. When she turned around, she noticed Nick in the doorway to Deke’s office with a lopsided smile on his irritating face.

  Sweeping her arm toward the refrigerator like Vanna White showing off a few vowels, she asked, “Uh, what is this?”

  He stalked toward it and peered inside curiously.

  “What is this?” she repeated.

  “I believe it is a miniature refrigerator. They make them for offices and wet bars and the like.”

  “What’s in it?” she clarified, staring at him in incredulous disbelief.

  Nick leaned in again for a moment, taking stock. Standing back, he folded his arms. “I do believe it’s water and juice.”

  “Right.” Annie nodded at him. “That’s right.”

  “Okay, then. Now that we’ve established—”

  “No. You’re not hearing me. Who is going to drink that water and juice?”

  “Anyone who wants to,” he replied, maddeningly calm. “Help yourself.”

  Nick started back toward the office, but the pitch of Annie’s voice seemed to stop him in his tracks, kind of like Sherman responding to a dog whistle.

  “Where is my Diet Coke?”

  “I thought I’d restock the thing with something a little more beneficial.”

  “More… A little more what?”

  “You drink a half dozen of those things in the morning, Annie,” he announced. “It’s just not healthy to ingest that much caffeine and artificial sweetener. Now when you’re here at the office, you can stick to water and fruit juice. If you’re hungry, there’s yogurt or string cheese or seedless grapes instead of”—he lifted the bakery bag from her desk and showed it to her as if she’d never seen one then dropped it again before finishing—“this harden-your-arteries junk you normally eat. It will be much better for you, and you’ll thank me for it one day.”

  “I will not thank you for it,” she told him confidently, sitting down at her desk and opening the bakery bag, producing a large cinnamon-crunch muffin. Retaining eye contact with Nick, she took a huge bite of it and crooned, “Mmmm.”

  “Fine,” he said with a shrug. “That’s fine. But will you at least try a little raspberry juice with that? Or a bottle of ice-cold water? I’m telling you, you’ll learn to prefer it after a while.”

  “Whenever someone tells me I’ll get used to something, I know that’s a sign it’s no good.”

  Annie wished she’d had the foreknowledge to stop and buy a soda on her way into the office. Without a word, she accepted the water Nick extended in her direction and smacked it to the desktop, refusing to give him the satisfaction of opening it until he disappeared into the office.

  Nick smirked, grabbed a juice and a package of string cheese out of the refrigerator, nudged the door shut, and departed without ceremony.

  Annie lifted the water and stared at it for a moment before unscrewing the cap and taking a few gulps. Not so horrible. But largely unsatisfying by comparison.

  “Hate you,” she called after him.

  “No, you don’t,” he sang back to her.

  The phones rang off the hook all day, and Annie hardly had time to complete the data entry and filing she had planned. The last call before sending the phones to the answering service at day’s end came from a reporter from The San Francisco Chronicle looking for a quote on Heffley Investigations’ role in the NorCal insurance fraud case being examined by the district attorney.

  “Can you hold for a moment, please?”

  When she told Nick the purpose of the call, he instructed her to tell them they had no comment except that the facts of the case would come out when and if it went to trial. Anything else, he explained, might jeopardize effective prosecution.

  The cop in him showed, and Annie liked it.

  “I’m out of here early tonight,” he told her as he slipped into his jacket. “Can you lock up?”

  “I think I can manage,” she said, urgently trying to curb the resentment creeping up out of nowhere. “Hot date?”

  “Not at all. I have plans with my sister.”

  Leaving poor Jenny behind at home?

  Annie resisted the sarcasm making every attempt to crest out of her, and she simply nodded. “Well, have fun.”

  “You have a good one too, Annie Gray.”

  She watched him through the window, leaning back into her chair after he faded from sight. She gulped down the last swig of water from the bottle on her desk and tossed it into the trash, vowing to get a large Diet Coke and popcorn with extra butter at the movies that night. Just to spite him.

  She picked up the phone receiver and dialed her grandmother’s number. “Hi, Gram.”

  “Hi, sweetheart. Are you still at work?”

  “I am,” Annie replied, tracing the buttons on the phone with her index finger. “I was thinking of meeting Evan at the Monterey for a Cary Grant retrospective.”

  “Oooh, that sounds like heaven.”

  “Do you want to come along?”

  “No, not tonight,” Gram answered. “It’s yoga night. There’s a downward dog with my name all over it.”

  Annie chuckled. “Would you mind walking Sherman before you go? That way I don’t have to drive all the way home and back again.”

  “Sherman and I just returned from a walk in the village. He’s sacked out on the kitchen floor.”

  Annie laughed. “That’s my boy.”

  “You have a good time tonight. And give my best to Mr. Grant.”

  “Will do.”

  At the theater, Evan greeted Annie with a hand to her shoulder and a soft kiss to her cheek. Familiar…and comforting somehow.

  “I bought the tickets. Let’s get some popcorn.”

  “Extra butter,” she added.

  “Oh, feeling wild tonight, huh?”

  They both laughed at that, chatting in line about inconsequential things like the unusual flood of business at the office and the new salad dressing Evan had concocted that day.

  “Uh-oh.”

  Evan stared at the entrance, wide-eyed.

  “What is it?”

  She followed his line of vision. Walking in the door, as chummy as two sardines in a can: Nick and Jenny.

  He lied.

  The words stuck to the back of her throat like peanut butter.

  He said he was meeting his sister. Clearly, he lied.

  Nick Benchley was a lot of things—tough as nails, somewhat crass, and even surprisingly tenderhearted at those infrequent moments when a person might least expect it. But one thing Annie never expected him to be: a liar.

  “Annie!”

  Jenny spotted her first, and Annie plastered on a smile so false that it seared her cheek.

  “Jenny. Hi.”

  “Are you a Cary Grant fan too?”

  “He’s Annie’s all-time favorite,” Evan chimed in, handing Annie a large Diet Coke while Nick eyed her like a traitor.

  “This is my off time,” she warned him. “I can eat or drink anything I please.”

  “Indeed you can.”

  Jenny looked from Nick to Annie and back again. Turning toward Evan, she asked, “Do you know what this is about?”

  Evan shrugged. “Nope.”

  “I’ve been trying to introduce Annie to the fine art of nutrition,” Nick clued them in. “Unfortunately, she’s a reluctant student.”

  “Oh, Nick, not really,” Jenny chuckled. “He doesn’t look like the health nut that he
is, does he?”

  “No!” Annie piped up. “In fact, I clearly remember sharing a burger and a shake with him on at least one occasion.”

  “I didn’t say you should never have something you want, Annie Gray. I just think you could be a little more concerned with what you put into your body on a consistent basis. But if Diet Coke and gargantuan cinnamon muffins are what float your boat, by all means, chow down.”

  “Evan Shaw.”

  Annie turned to find Jenny and Evan shaking hands. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she cried. “Evan, this is Jenny. And you remember Nick.”

  Evan merely nodded at Nick momentarily, turning back toward Jenny afterward. “I’m looking forward to seeing Charade again. It’s such a classic.”

  “Right, but To Catch a Thief is really the most beautiful film ever made. All of that gorgeous landscape and the wide, sweeping shots. Can you imagine it up on a big screen?”

  “That’s what I was saying to Annie!”

  Nick moved around them and stepped into line at the concession stand. Annie followed him casually.

  “So what happened to getting together with your sister?”

  He looked at her as if she spoke another language. “Pardon?”

  “When you left the office, you said you had plans with your sister. But here you are with Jenny.”

  “Jenny is my sister.”

  Their eyes locked for an instant, and Annie broke the grasp, staring at the air over Nick’s shoulder.

  “Wait a minute. You thought—?”

  And suddenly Nick burst into a fit of laughter, drawing Evan and Jenny toward them.

  “All this time,” Nick told Jenny, placing his arm around her shoulder, “Annie Gray thought you and I were an item.”

  “You did?” she asked. “Where would you get an idea like that?”

  Annie looked at Evan, and her glance pushed him to shrink back a step. He had been the one to put that thought in her head. But then, nothing had ever occurred at the theater or in Deke’s hospital room to make her think they were anything other than a couple.

  One by one, each episode rolled across her mind neatly, like stacked playing cards dropping cleanly through a shuffler. Relief began to summit, and she held back a rush of emotion that truly wanted to evolve into tears.