“No, but we found this,” Nick said, holding up the remnants of a bright red dog collar. It had just the last two digits of a phone number and the letters M-U-R-P embroidered into it. “What else could it be?”
“Murp,” Annie suggested, and everyone laughed.
In just that speck of an instant, Murphy disappeared. Nick walked around the corner and into the bedroom and let out a resounding laugh. Annie followed and found the pup poking his head out from beneath the bed, one sock hanging diagonally over his head and covering an ear—and another one protruding from both sides of his mouth.
“You know, I think he really could be Sherman’s little brother!” she exclaimed. “I wonder if he likes lettuce.”
The mere mention of the word and Sherman waddled quickly into the room, stood hopefully before them, and waited.
“Oh, sorry, bud. I didn’t mean to tease you.”
He seemed to think it over for a few seconds and then he circled around to face Murphy. After a moment of watching him, Sherman dove forward and snatched one end of the sock in Murphy’s mouth; the two of them began growling and yanking with all their might. Finally Sherman walked away with it, Murphy still attached to the other end and dragging alongside him.
Nick watched them pass, and he smiled thoughtfully. “I think I’ll place an ad in the paper,” he said. “Found, lost dog named Murphy. Reward offered. Come quickly.”
Chapter Eighteen
“I want to be alone.”
Greta Garbo, Grand Hotel, 1932
Things had been heating up a little with Nick Benchley. Not entirely sure where it might be headed or if it had anywhere to go at all, Annie still found herself thinking about him an awful lot. Like the day before, at the grocery store, for instance. Standing in line, casually waiting her turn, Annie had no idea how much time had elapsed, only that the woman behind the register called out to her. She’d completely lost her place in real life, stuck there in Fantasyland, thinking about what it would be like to kiss Nick Benchley again.
Snap out of it!
She’d spent an entire week trying to style her bohemian, free-spirited hair without conditioner, and she’d just about reached the end of her hair follicle. In the shower, she carefully applied a blob of conditioner to her palm and distributed it freely to the ends of her hair, allowing it to inch upward slightly but nowhere near the wound at the back of her head. She had a sudden mental image of nappy little locks extending down into silky tresses, like before and after pictures, all in one shot. In the end, it didn’t turn out to be quite that horrifying, but she certainly wasn’t rocking her normal hair by any means.
Annie and Nick climbed into the back seat of Evan’s Camry that afternoon, and Jenny sat up front with him as they all headed to the youth center fund-raiser together.
“So what’s the latest on Murphy?” Annie asked.
“He’s just the cutest little thing,” Jenny piped up. “And he adores Nick.”
“I’ve had an ad in the paper all week,” Nick added, “but we haven’t received a single call.”
“I think that dog is just destined to be yours, bro.”
“Yes, Jen. I’m sure it’s part of the overall plan for my life.”
“You never know,” she sang hopefully, and Nick shook his head.
“The dog is a menace,” he told Annie. “He’s into everything. He’s not destructive, like chewing or anything. But his nose is into every drawer, every closet—everything! And not one day has passed where he hasn’t lined up all of my shoes in front of the fireplace. It’s like a daily mission or something.”
Annie laughed at that. She remembered when Sherman used to situate her unmentionables in front of his food bowl in the kitchen. She finally had to get a laundry hamper with a locking lid.
“He was probably out running loose because his family couldn’t stand it anymore,” Nick stated before grinning at Annie.
“You should see the two of them together,” Jenny told them. “Nick will sack out on the couch to watch television and Murphy jumps right up next to him and falls asleep with his chin on Nick’s arm. It’s adorable.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Adorable.”
“Not you. Murphy.”
“So, Jenny,” Annie interrupted. “How is the apartment hunting going?”
“Just awful!” she exclaimed. “I can’t find a nice place anywhere near the school where I’m teaching.”
“She drives thirty minutes every day,” Evan said.
“I’d really like to settle in Monterey, if I can find something.”
The small Spanish apartment she’d considered just after starting to work for Deke crossed Annie’s mind.
“I know the area. I looked at a darling place over there, but that was months ago. I’m sure it’s rented by now.”
“Do you still have the owner’s number?” Evan suggested. “Maybe Jenny could call him and see if he has any other buildings in the area.”
“You know, I think I kept his information. I’ll check for you and e-mail it this week.”
“Thanks, Annie.”
She could easily see Jenny living in that beautiful old place. She struck Annie to be just as charming as the building itself.
As they arrived at the community center, Nick helped Annie from the car, shielding the back of her head from the frame of the door, and offered his arm as they walked up the cracked concrete sidewalk together.
An old building sorely in need of attention, the center teemed with people, most of them African-American or Latino, some dressed in jeans and T-shirts, others in faded garments that had truly seen better days.
“There’s Deke!” Jenny exclaimed, taking Evan by the hand.
Nick and Annie arrived just as Deke stood and embraced Jenny warmly.
“Hey, old man,” Nick said. “Good to see you out and about.”
“I thought I’d take a stab,” he replied, as he moved toward Annie for an unexpected hug. “What are you doing in this part of town, Annie?”
“I thought I’d take a stab,” she said, repeating his words.
“Well, we’re happy to have you. Make yourself at home.”
Deke patted Evan on the back as he passed, and the five of them sat down in the third row as hundreds of others took their own seats. Nick seemed to know about every third person who came into the building, from young to old, black to white, male to female. He called them by name and knew all their stories.
The center director, an African-American man, took the podium. He told the audience about the day’s festivities, including music performances and handmade crafts for sale. While a children’s choir performed, Annie happened to glance down the row and noticed Evan holding Jenny’s hand between both of his. She felt a bit like an interloper when she glimpsed the smiles they exchanged.
The moment the director released the crowd to enjoy the fun set up outside, Annie excused herself past Deke and Jenny, and she slipped an arm around Evan’s neck to pull him close.
“What’s this for?” he asked.
“Just because.”
When she pulled away enough to look into his eyes, Evan smiled. “My life is changing, Annie.”
“I can see that,” she replied. “And I’m really happy for you.”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
They embraced again, and he whispered into her ear. “I love her, Annie.”
“I know you do. And she feels the same.”
As they headed toward the door, Annie scanned the crowd for Nick. When she located him, arm in arm with a Penélope Cruz–alike and their heads together as if sharing a very private moment, Annie’s insides did a little dance before they splatted back into place. Disappointment scorched, poking her right in the heart as “Penélope” planted a tender kiss on Nick’s cheek. Nick squeezed her hand affectionately.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she heard him say, as she approached.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
In much the same way a
s an obsessive-compulsive goes back again and again to make sure the stove is turned off or the door is locked, Annie’s brain took to repeating certain key phrases after hearing them.
I’ll call you tomorrow.... I’ll look forward to it.
She heard their exchange a hundred times or more in the short ride back to Carmel that night, and after each repetition, she rationalized.
You’re being ridiculous.... It’s none of your business.... Things probably aren’t how they looked.
None of it washed away the despair she felt when remembering the way the two of them had looked into each other’s eyes.
Nick had squeezed her hand in such a familiar way. And this time the recipient wasn’t his sister.
Nick is a very kind man, she reminded herself. And the freight train carrying that excuse derailed when it reached the one thought that had always been there but never acknowledged.
Perhaps he’s just being nice to me too.
The four of them stopped for lunch, and over a spinach-and-mushroom omelet with Swiss cheese, Annie replayed encounters that had meant something to her. Each and every one was now consistently banished to the “He’s just being nice” column.
In between rounds, Annie nodded politely and tossed a comment or two into the ongoing conversation, her cast-iron focus still fixed on the running tournament of “Figuring Out Nick.”
Evan was due at the bistro, so they didn’t linger over their good-byes when they dropped off Nick and Jenny.
“I’ll see you at the office in the morning,” Nick said, the break quick and clean from there.
Annie felt drained, and she couldn’t even muster up polite conversation with Evan on the ride back to her gram’s house. She hummed with the radio, her head pressed against the glass, occasionally thankful that Evan had been her friend long enough to know when to stay quiet.
“Believe me, Ty, I really dug deep on this one. And I can’t, for the life of me, find anything dark and foreboding about Marques.”
Tyra looked so disappointed. Annie wondered why her friend yearned for there to be some ulterior motive for a young man romancing her mother.
“I guess your mom is enough of a reason, Tyra.”
She raised her dewy eyes and tried to smile at Annie, but it didn’t quite reach her lips.
“She’s fabulous. But…I don’t know.”
She’d asked for a background check on the guy, and that’s what she’d been given. Does she want me to make something up?
“Tyra. He’s clean.”
This is definitely a girl from Kansas…or is it Missouri? Which one’s the Show-Me State?
Tyra shrugged her shoulders and nodded. “Well, thanks for your help, Annie. I appreciate it. I really do.”
As soon as the door closed, Annie Googled “show me state” and learned the answer: Missouri.
Nick left the office early that day for destinations unknown. The Penélope Cruz–alike crossed her thoughts unexpectedly, and she tried to shake her away. Thinking that Jenny might be a good source of information on the subject of Ms. Cruz, Annie would have paid her a friendly visit right then if not for the dinner she’d agreed to have with her parents.
Swayed from wisdom with the promise of marinated steaks and steamed clams.
Her mother called it teriyaki, but what she could do with a steak was something else entirely. Soy sauce and ginger and garlic… It made a steak melt right in a person’s mouth with every single bite. Annie had tried making it herself once; it had been a bitter disaster. She’d taken to the belief since then that her mother purposely left things out of her shared recipes so that no one else could ever reproduce them. It was cruel, really. Like something she’d seen on television once, where a pusher had said he would innocently offer an addict some designer drug, knowing full well no one else could ever supply them again.
She could smell the soy sauce and ginger from outside the front door. When she opened it and stepped into the house, her taste buds started to sing and do a little happy dance.
“Nathan, it’s Annabelle.”
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Daddy.”
“Come and kiss the cook,” her dad called out to her from the patio, as he turned the steaks on the grill.
“Take a look at the silly apron your father is wearing,” her mom said too loudly as Annie headed out back.
Her father stood there awaiting her comment with his hands on his hips, displaying the apron proudly. Black, with bright red letters: KISS THE COOK. He obviously thought he looked quite adorable, so much in fact that it made him right.
Annie planted an obedient kiss on his cheek and chuckled. Her father sliced off a corner of one of the steaks, stabbing it with a fork before offering it to her. Her taste buds exploded with the bite.
“Ooooh, that’s so good.”
“We’re having steamed clams with your aunt Henri’s tartar sauce,” her mom tossed out the door. “Oh, and I found the most beautiful asparagus at the market today.”
She really should have a cooking show. At least a once-a-week thing, à la Paula Deen.
“Come in and set the table, Annie. We’re having five tonight.”
Ted and Linda.
“Teddy and Linda are stopping by.”
She wondered about whether to offer to host a baby shower when they arrived, and the voice in her head called her an idiot while her heart told her something else entirely.
She’d expended all that energy in mustering up forgiveness toward her little brother, and he blew it with one sentence almost immediately upon arrival.
“So, Annie. Tell me about your love life.”
“Oh, yes, Annie,” her mother chimed right in. “We haven’t heard anything for such a long time.”
“What’s become of Evan?” Linda asked.
“Evan has met someone. She’s the younger sister of a man I’ve been working with while my boss has been recovering from heart surgery.”
“Nick Benchley.”
It brought a chill up her spine that her mother knew his name so readily.
“Yes.” She swallowed and attempted to breathe. “His sister Jenny is an elementary school teacher, and she and Evan seem to be a very good pair.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” her mom said, doling out more asparagus. “I always kind of thought you and Evan would find your way to each other.”
Get in line.
“There’s no accounting for chemistry,” Annie commented, as she cut her steak into tinier pieces than necessary. “And Evan and Jenny were just…meant to be.”
Hearing herself say it out loud for the first time, Annie realized that she actually meant it. It left her feeling a little hollow in the spot where that old dream used to sit.
“And what about you, Annie?” Ted asked—and she couldn’t discern whether he was only having a bit of fun at her expense. “Who were you meant to be with?” he continued.
“After the importance of chemistry,” she replied, “is the issue of timing. I just haven’t reached mine yet.”
And with that, Annie wanted to go home without even pausing for banana cream pie in a perfect graham cracker crust.
With the date set for Deke’s return to the office, Annie realized they had less than a week to go. Excited that his health had improved and everything had turned out so great for him, she also knew that with his return came Nick’s departure.
She wiped up the coffee-cup stains and ran a dust rag over Deke’s desk to remove the crumbs, then replaced his favorite coffee mug that she’d re-washed. When all of the pens stood straight in the pencil cup and the file folders in the metal rack fell into a neat line, Annie stood back and looked around the office in search of anything else she could do ahead of time for Deke that Nick wouldn’t mess up too much before Monday.
The tidiness of Nick’s home struck Annie as funny when she considered the slob he turned into at work. His jacket only made it to the hook on the back of the door about 50 percent of the time, and remnants of crumbs of several lunches gravi
tated to the closed laptop at any given time.
Just about the time she mused over the tornado he created every time he entered a room, the front door to the office erupted from the jamb and clunked into the wall behind it. Nick had arrived.
“What’s up, Annie Gray?”
“I’m just cleaning up a little before Deke comes back to us on Monday.” She folded the rag in her hand.
“Hey,” Nick said offhandedly, “what ever happened with the background check for your friend?”
“Tyra? It went fine. Everything looked clean.”
“Good. She must have been relieved.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” she replied with a shake of her head. “She seemed more hopeful that I’d find something, rather than clearing his name for her.”
“Why, do you suppose?”
Annie glanced up at him as he leaned casually in the doorway, and she noticed that the light streaming in from the window behind him formed a sort of halo around him. It made her pause a bit.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I was just wondering why she was so hopeful about hearing the bad news instead of finding the good.”
“I don’t know.”
Annie shrugged and headed into the reception office.
“How far did you go with the check?” he asked, following to her desk and leaning against the corner.
“The usual stuff. Criminal record, lawsuits, DMV.”
“Did you try a similar name search?”
“What’s that?”
“Come on into the office,” he suggested, motioning as he headed back that way.
Annie paused to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator first.
“What’s his name?”
“Marques DeLeon. M-A-R-Q—”
“Okay,” he interrupted. “Watch this.”
Annie rounded the desk and stood behind him. He had some sort of national Web site on the screen, and he fed in a password for the right to access. Nick typed Marques’s name into the search box, chose California from the drop-down selection, and clicked on a button marked SIMILAR NAME SEARCH. Within seconds, several options appeared.
Love Finds You in Carmel by-the-Sea, California Page 19
