by Ines Saint
Dan sighed. “You’re not a loon. You’re odd, but you’re not a loon.” It seemed like he’d fallen asleep again, but he opened his eyes the moment Holly moved. “And I don’t think Johnny’s in love with you, but I’m not sure.”
Holly laughed. “It’s good to see you’re finally using that sense you so pride yourself on. Of course he’s not in love with me. Johnny needs guerilleros to keep the girls away. Why would he be interested in someone who treats him like a pesky little brother?”
Dan’s eyes fluttered and closed. “Because you’re pretty and interesting in a head-scratching sort of way.”
Holly stared down at him. He’d said she was pretty. Her beaten heart stirred at the words. It had been years since anyone had called her pretty. She firmly forgot about the rest of his sentence, because she wasn’t sure what it meant. “You think I’m pretty?”
“So pretty,” he said. So that’s what a sincere compliment felt like. It was too bad a man had to be almost unconscious to flatter her.
He reached out to curl a lock of her hair around his forefinger. It made her feel funny inside. She told herself it was because it was the first time a man who wasn’t her friend had touched her in any way in years. “Soft. I knew it.”
She swallowed hard. “Johnny and I are just friends. Great friends. Johnny’s a feeler, like me.”
“I’m a thinker,” Dan whispered.
“I know.” She checked his forehead again.
“Why don’t you hate me?” he asked.
“Who says I don’t?”
“I can tell you don’t.”
Holly sighed. “I’m not built for hate, and I have a hard time staying angry.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“No, it’s not. It makes you believe things are forgiven, when in reality, they’ve only been forgiven on the surface. Sometimes you need to stay angry enough to set a different course.”
“That makes sense,” said the delirious man.
“Who—who took care of you when you were little and got sick?” she asked before she lost her nerve.
That got a reaction. “All I had to do was stick a spoonful of cough syrup in my mouth and swallow a pill, Holly. No one had to take care of me.”
But who checked your fever’s progress, kissed your forehead, and snuggled beside you? Your father? Marianne?
“I’ve had a good life. I had a great relationship with my dad, and my brothers have always been my best buddies.” He coughed, looked up, and offered her a devilish grin. “Plus I excelled at sports, music, school, and girls. Nothing for you to feel sorry about.” His eyes fluttered closed, the grin still on his face.
He looked ridiculous, bragging and acting all cocky with that nasally, sniffly voice and his eyes glazed over. “Yeah, I can see you’re quite the stud. Now get some sleep.” She patted his hand and tried to get up, but his finger was still wrapped in her hair. The moment she tried to move, he entwined his fingers into a few more locks. Not wanting to disturb him, she climbed into the bed, making sure the only contact between them was his fingers in her hair. She felt like an idiot.
He pulled her close and the funny feeling spread throughout her body. He was right, no reason to feel sorry for him. Except she couldn’t help feeling for the little boy he’d once been, any more than she could help being attracted to the man he was now, even though she didn’t particularly like him. Stanley hopped up, lay down, and curled his little body between them.
Nearly two hours later, Dan’s temperature had gone down to ninety-nine. Holly tried his brothers once more and got ahold of Sam. He was five hours away, visiting Heather’s parents in Chicago, and Johnny was at a Cavaliers game in Cleveland. Damn it, what was she supposed to do? Have Dan stay for the night? Ella would be back tomorrow. What would she think? Holly covered her face with her hands.
“I feel better.” Dan sniffled. “I can go back next door.”
She peered at him through her fingers. He was sitting up and looking miserable, but he seemed lucid. “You know you don’t really want to go next door. Admit you don’t want to freeze to death. Ask for my advice on the Craftsman’s kitchen design, and you can stay here.”
“I don’t want to freeze to death.”
“And?”
“And I can’t believe you’re still harping on about the house—” Dan tried to stand up, but it was obvious with every movement that his muscles were in pain. It had to be the flu. He fell back down onto the sofa bed. “What did you have in mind for the kitchen?”
“Ivory Shaker-style cabinets to break up all the wood tones, and blue and gray granite with hints of gold to pick up on the hardwood floors.”
“That won’t match. I thought you were going for harmony.”
“Harmony is for the bedroom. The kitchen and dining room should be a place for adventure, don’t you think?”
“I think the bedroom is an even better place for adventure.” Even icky and sick, Dan’s smile was gorgeous.
Holly smirked. “I meant that the kitchen is a place to experience new food, aromas, and flavors. Oh, I know! I’ll show you my adventurous kitchen.”
She got up and grabbed a binder from a shelf, and Dan moaned, “Not the binder again.”
Holly sat on the edge of the sofa and flipped through the pages until she found the kitchen of her dreams. She propped the binder up on his chest, and to his credit, he studied it. “That stone looks expensive.”
“It is. It would probably set you back an extra grand, but don’t you think it’s worth it? Look at it. Women will fall in love with it on the spot. It’s got depth and movement, like—”
“Like a river.”
“Exactly.” Holly looked at him, surprised he’d had the same thought she’d had the first time she’d looked at the granite. He held her gaze a moment more than was comfortable for two people still at odds. The granite reminded her of the day she’d come into town and she’d set eyes on the Great Miami River. His eyes reminded her of it, too. Clear and silvery with a hint of blue, reflecting a fiery spring sun. She looked away.
“I’ll agree to consider your ideas for the kitchen if I can stay right here and have some more of your gypsy brew. My throat feels scratchy again.”
“It’s a deal.” She shook his limp hand and went to find the homemade cough syrup.
When she got back, he was studying a piece of paper with great interest. “What’s this?” He looked up at her with narrowed eyes.
She handed him the syrup, sat next to him, and looked at the piece of paper he was pointing at. Uh-oh. She’d forgotten she’d stuffed that into the binder. “That’s . . . just a picture and a description of something I found on eBay.” She reached for the binder, but he held it away from her.
“It looks like one of the missing upstairs windows.” He studied the picture closely. “It’s got the same exact design etched onto it, same colors, and it looks to be the right size. The color of the trim is faded, but it looks right, too.” He read the description. “Originally from a house in Spinning Hills, Ohio,” he read aloud. “This has to be one of the original windows. What is it doing on eBay?”
“My partners in crime and I stole them, remember? We had to fence them somewhere,” she ridiculed him.
“Must I remind you I found you trespassing? You can’t still be mad at me for thinking you’d stolen the windows. And stop trying to change the subject. How’d you find them?”
“I began trolling for old stained-glass windows a while back, when I started saving to buy the house, and I set up an alert for when certain listings came up. I never dreamed I’d find an original. I got the alert for this listing on Tuesday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me anything? I thought you wanted the house restored to its original glory?”
“Only one window showed up. The other is still missing. And I want it for myself. I love it. I can’t have the house, but at least I can own a piece of it and put it into the house I do buy.”
“Do you know who took them and why
they’re on eBay?”
“The owners have a bed-and-breakfast in Charleston, West Virginia, and the window was in the front parlor, but it didn’t go with the home’s time period and it was improperly installed by the previous owners. The previous owners told them where it was originally from. The new owners took it down, and it’s been sitting in their barn for ages.”
“Holly,” Dan tried a sweet, caressing voice, but because he was stuffed up, it didn’t have the effect he was going for.
“Yeeees?”
“Don’t you think the window should come home, where it belongs?”
“In theory, I do. But don’t you think it’s a huge coincidence I found it? I don’t think I found it for you. I think I found it for me. It was meant to be mine.”
“You’re sounding like a nut again, and your eyes are flashing. Windows aren’t meant to belong to anybody. They’re just windows.”
“But you want it.”
“For the perceived value it will give the home.”
“I’m picking it up next Saturday. I sent a deposit. The deal’s done, the window is mine.”
Dan tried to take in a deep breath and let it out, but he snorted instead. “Can I at least go with you? The house is being rewired next Saturday. I won’t be needed and I won’t be able to get anything done. I’ll borrow Johnny’s F150 and help you load the window. It’s large and it’s probably heavy.”
“You’re going to try to get me to change my mind is what you’re going to do, but I’ll take you up on your offer. Johnny was going to lend me his pickup anyway, but he can’t go with me. I do need help loading it and securing it.”
“What time do you want to leave?”
“Six a.m., and I won’t make it to our Friday evening tour. I want to spend some more time with Ella that evening, since I’ll be gone most of the day Saturday.”
Dan’s stomach rolled, but it wasn’t the flu. Holly really did sound as if she hated being away from her child and she’d mentioned Ella needed a break from her. He’d really been a jerk when he’d insinuated she’d rather be out partying than taking care of her child. “Can you make time for a small tour on Friday morning, after you drop Ella off at school? There’s something I want to show you before we go to Charleston.” Not only did he know how to get Holly to consider letting him buy the window for himself, but he owed her something. Dan snuggled into the pillow again, feeling tired after so much talking and thinking.
He woke up hours later, his throat thick. With effort, he got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. He opened several cabinets before he found a glass to fill with tap water. It took a few minutes to get the liquid down, and he picked up a few colorful lead-glass containers from the kitchen counter to study them.
Back in bed, before he closed his eyes, a light came on in the hallway. He watched with one eye as Holly came into the kitchen. She closed the cabinet doors he’d inadvertently left open and glanced around before putting the lead-glass containers in the exact order and place they’d been before he’d picked them up. So . . . an anal personality lived below the surface of the woman who’d broken into his house wearing a robe, goop, and clay. There was a little bit of her mother in her after all. He drifted back to sleep, feeling something tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Ages later, Dan sensed a presence in front of him. He struggled to make it back from the dead to open his eyes. Through his blurred vision, he saw Ella standing in front of him with two toy teacups. “I’m sorry I made you sick. Here, I made you some tea.”
“Ella!” Holly called from the kitchen. “I told you to stay close to me and to let him sleep.”
Dan glanced at a clock on the wall and saw it was nearly noon. Though every single one of his muscles ached, he sat up, reached out for the cup of tea, and pretended to take a sip. “Don’t worry. I didn’t catch it from you.”
Holly came over and filled the little teacup with cough syrup and Ella lifted her teacup to his. “To Mr. Amador feeling good.”
Dan stole a glance to where Holly was busy in the kitchen. “Do you see the glass containers over there in the kitchen?” he whispered to Ella.
Ella nodded.
“As soon as your mom’s not looking, can you switch them around for me?”
“Why?” Ella asked.
“I’m trying to make your mom crazy.”
“You like her now?” the little girl asked.
What was he supposed to say, No, little girl, I don’t like your mom? “She’s been kind to me.”
“You said she doesn’t stay home with me, and that’s not true.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Ella. I was wrong. I want to make your mom smile. Will you help me?”
Ella nodded and skipped off to the kitchen. She hovered around until Holly bent to put some dishes into the dishwasher. She quickly switched the containers around, then sat down at the kitchen table to draw.
It was as if Holly had sensed something was off the moment she stood back up. She took a look around, immediately noticed the containers, and put each one back into place. Ella giggled, turned, and gave Dan a thumbs-up. Dan chuckled and gave her a thumbs-up in return.
Holly caught it all. “Hey, are you two messing with me?”
Both Ella and Dan burst out laughing.
“When did you two get all chummy? I’ve been right here the whole time.”
“He likes you, Mommy.”
It was time to go. “So—have you spoken to either of my brothers?”
“Yes. Johnny got back about an hour ago. He said to call him as soon as you woke up.”
“Can I borrow your phone?” He stood up, one hand on his thigh, the other supporting his lower back, and suppressed a groan.
Holly handed him her phone. He looked down at her. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he was struck by how fresh and pretty she looked. While he probably smelled like menthol and sweat. He was glad his own sense of smell wasn’t working, ’cause he didn’t want to know. “Thanks for taking me in. I don’t deserve it.”
“You don’t,” she agreed.
“But I earned my keep.”
She laughed. “How?”
“I’ve made you laugh. Twice.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
He called Johnny to pick him up, folded the sofa bed into place, and straightened the area as much as he could.
Holly was down the hall with Ella and he could hear them talking.
“No, I love you more,” Holly said in the boring, centuries-old way mothers had of reassuring their children. He couldn’t help it, he rolled his eyes.
“How do you know you love me more?” Ella asked. Smart kid.
“Because,” came Holly’s voice. “I’d give you my liver if you needed it.”
“Yuck! Your liver?” Ella giggled.
“Well, you only get one liver, and I’d give it to you if you needed it. You get two kidneys and two lungs, but you only get one liver and it’s important. If someone is willing to give you their liver, they must love you.”
“You only get one heart. Would you give me your heart?” Ella asked.
“You already have it. You have my brain, too. That’s why you always hear me say I must be losing my mind.”
Ella giggled again.
Dan was losing his mind, too, because the whole thing was beginning to sound kinda cute.
Dan spent the next day recuperating in Johnny’s apartment. Johnny let him have the couch while they watched sports and yelled at the TV. Sam came by to bring food and they watched football, ate hot wings, and drank beer. Men knew better than to fuss over each other. Peace ruled.
Until Marianne stopped by for a visit.
“Hey, Ma.” Sam kissed her cheek and shifted his attention back to the game.
Marianne walked over to Dan, a concerned frown on her face. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
“I heard Holly took you in. She has a daughter. She shouldn’t have let a man stay under her roof. Why didn’
t she call me?” she asked, dropping her handbag on a chair and sitting in front of him.
“Not sure. Maybe she doesn’t have your number?” Dan asked, exhausted by her already.
“She could’ve gotten it from any number of people,” Marianne replied, and something in Dan snapped.
When he’d been too little to understand his words and actions were being twisted, he’d tried harder to behave and not cause trouble. When he was old enough to understand the dynamics of his home, he’d played along as much as humanly possible, to avoid involving his father and his brothers in his and Marianne’s battles.
They always took his side, as if they had something to prove to Dan. Sam would make his stand once, forceful and abrupt, before retreating for good, while Johnny would walk the line between peace and truth. The drama and theatrics that would ensue drained them all. Staying away was the only way to keep the peace.
Marianne was Sam and Johnny’s mom, she loved them and took care of them, and Dan decided long ago not to get in their way.
But he wouldn’t allow her to use him to take a dig at Holly. Not when Holly had been the one who’d shown him genuine concern—concern he hadn’t deserved. “Well, Holly called Johnny.” Dan turned to his brother. “Why didn’t you give Holly Marianne’s number?” he asked.
Marianne’s mouth tightened around the corners. What could Johnny say, after all?
“I knew Mom would be too busy,” Johnny replied, tossing him a questioning look. It wasn’t like Dan to fan Marianne’s flaming temper, after all.
Dan nodded. Johnny’s answer was honest and only slightly confrontational. The kind of comment that would normally have Dan walking away, before everyone got burned.
But right now, he didn’t feel like leaving well enough alone. “How about you?” he asked Sam. “Holly spoke to you, too, and she doesn’t like me. You shouldn’t have imposed on her like that. Why didn’t you tell her to call Marianne?”
Sam had just taken a bite of wing and he took his time chewing and swallowing, never taking his eyes off Dan. “Who would you have preferred to take care of you, Holly or Mom?” he finally asked.
