Let's Do It

by Ann Christopher

  He nodded, a faint frown contracting his brows. “Reeve, huh? I like it.”

  “It’s original, anyway,” she said, thinking of all the times she’d vainly searched kitschy souvenir shops for a keychain, doorknob sign or ID necklace with Reeve on it. “I’ve never met another Reeve.”

  “Yeah.” Something in his expression warmed. Softened until the corners of his eyes crinkled with an unfulfilled smile. “Neither have I.”

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  The cryptic note in his voice caught Reeve’s attention, but before she could zero in on why, they were interrupted by the expensive hum of another luxury car as it pulled up behind the Saab and idled on the berm. The window slid down. A manicured female hand with waggling fingers appeared.

  “Reeve! I made it!”

  Shooting a sidelong glance at Edward to gauge his response to her best friend, Reeve braced herself as the driver’s door swung open and Sofia Abbate emerged in all her drop-dead, femme fatale glory. Always made up, dressed, coiffed and accessorized, even if the only thing she had planned for the day was a trip to the grocery store, Sofia had a dark-haired, almond-eyed, olive-skinned and curvaceous beauty that made Reeve 1) feel like a redheaded stepchild whenever she was with her; and 2) wonder if Penelope Cruz was somewhere in Sofia’s family tree. Luckily, they’d become friends back in ninth grade, when Sofia had braces and was way more ugly duckling than swan, so Reeve couldn’t hate her for being so beautiful now.

  Sofia hurried over and gave Reeve a quick hug while eyeballing Edward, no doubt trying to decide whether he was a threat or not. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. This fine gentleman tried to help, but the spare’s flat, too. Edward Harper, meet Sofia Abbate.”

  “Thank you, fine gentleman.” Sofia, who’d never in recorded history met an attractive man without flirting with him, held out her hand and hit him with her megawatt smile. “We appreciate it. I told Reeve she had no business trying to change the tire by herself.”

  Reeve watched closely, waiting to see if puffy red hearts would zing out of his eyes as he beheld Sofia, but he just shook her hand and nodded.

  “Reeve seems pretty capable to me,” he told Sofia, sparing her only a fleeting look before refocusing on Reeve. “She was going to take me out with the tire iron if I tried anything funny.”

  This unexpected endorsement made Reeve grin.

  “You’ll be okay, right?” he asked her.

  “Absolutely,” Reeve assured him.

  It was an effort to maintain her smile as she realized that this was it and she’d never lay eyes on her Good Samaritan again. Which was just as well, God knew, because she wasn’t anyone’s candidate for any sort of a romantic relationship whatsoever for the foreseeable future. In confirmation of this inescapable fact, Adam’s face the last time she saw him—searching and intent—flashed across her memory, demanding that she remember her priorities, none of which could have anything to do with Edward Harper.

  “Thanks again for stopping,” she added.

  “Like I said. Any time.”

  That should’ve been good-bye, but they both stood there, unmoving.

  Until Edward cleared his throat and gestured to the cars whizzing by. “You two be careful. Get up to speed on the berm before you try to merge with traffic. I don’t want anyone getting hit.”

  “Will do,” Sofia chirped.

  “Take care,” he said, still looking at Reeve.

  Reeve nodded, barely maintaining her cheerful expression. “Bye.”

  With that, he walked back to his SUV and climbed inside.

  Sofia stared after him, emitting a low whistle of feminine appreciation. “Way to get rescued by Hottie McHotterson, Reevie,” she murmured. “I couldn’t’ve done better myself.”

  “Will you focus?” Reeve said, watching Edward pull off and merge into traffic and praying her face wasn’t as iridescently red as it felt. The last thing she needed was for Sofia’s interest in her personal life to be piqued any further. It was bad enough she’d already signed Reeve up for every online dating website known to humankind. “Let’s get going.”

  “Why don’t you grab Muffin and your overnight stuff?” Sofia asked.

  “Good idea.”

  After tossing her overnight bag into Sofia’s trunk and placing Muffin on the backseat, Reeve joined her inside the car.

  “Like it?” Sofia proudly smoothed a hand over the dashboard before putting the key, which dangled from a Chanel chain, in the ignition. “We just got it.”

  “Yeah. Nice.”

  It was a black mega-behemoth SUV. The kind that Sofia, a pharmaceutical rep, and her boyfriend Toby, an injured NFL player currently between teams—both of whom apparently made enough money to shred and use to line their mattresses for warmth—could afford. It was also the kind that Reeve could never see around when stuck behind one while driving the Saab. The thing looked like it had twenty leather seats, twenty-five cup holders and required a $100 fill-up every three blocks.

  The engine roared to life.

  “We love it.” Sofia grinned, hitting the gas. “And we got a good deal on it. They wanted fifty-eight for it, but I talked them down to fifty-two.”

  Reeve blinked. Fifty-two thousand dollars? US cash money? In this economy?

  “When are you going to send that old Saab to the great junkyard in the sky?” Sofia asked.

  “Okay. In case you forgot, while you and Big T were working the last four years, I was slicing up my cadaver and learning to diagnose a hot appendix,” Reeve said, drumming her fingers on the armrest while she stared out the window. “But as soon as I finish my residency in three years, pass my boards, get a well-paying job and pay off my med school loans, buying a big luxury car is numero uno on the list.”

  “No need to get snippy,” Sofia said, slipping on her sunglasses—Vera Wang, Reeve saw. “I thought you might buy yourself a graduation present, or something.”

  “Actually, I did. A kayak. It should arrive this week.”

  Sofia gave her such a dumbstruck look it seemed likely she’d veer off the road. “A kayak?”

  “Yep. Blue one. It’s a beauty.”

  “Why, in the name of all that’s holy, would you buy yourself a kayak when you’re driving a car that’s lived through three or four presidents?”

  “Hello? Because we live on the Hudson River? Because kayaking is fun? Because I’ll need the exercise? Pick one.”

  “So you don’t mind loosening the purse strings once every leap year or so.”

  “Of course not.”

  “It’s just that...You never really talk about your money situation and whether Adam—”

  Sofia trailed off.

  Reeve wondered why hearing someone else say his name was still so painful.

  “I’m okay financially for now,” Reeve said after a pause. “A fancy new car isn’t important to me.”

  “Okay, good. Got it.”

  Another pause.

  “So...” Reeve worked her shoulders and rubbed the back of her neck, where all her unnerving agitation seemed to have collected since her interlude with Edward Harper. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

  Sofia flapped a hand. “No worries. And I’ve got some great apartments lined up for you to see.”

  “I knew I could count on you. How’s Toby?”

  “He’s fine. He’ll be happy to see you.”

  Sofia’s chirpy emphasis on the word fine made Reeve glance around from the window, but Sofia’s gaze was fixed resolutely on the road and her expression gave nothing away.

  “Everything okay there?” Reeve wondered.

  “Absolutely!”

  Okay, Reeve thought. All the chirpiness was getting a little creepy.

  “You guys talking about marriage?” she asked cautiously. “You’ve been living together for four years now.”

  Careless shrug from Sofia, followed by abrupt change of topic. “All in good time. Your little rescuer back there was pretty hot, I noticed.” />
  “Hmm.”

  “‘Hmm’?” Sofia shot her a raised-brow look. “You didn’t notice?”

  “I choose not to comment,” Reeve said with hauteur, ignoring Sofia’s tinkling laughter as best she could and excruciatingly aware of the sudden heat now crawling across her face. “I’m sure I’ll never see him again, anyway.”

  “Why not? Didn’t you get his number?”

  Reeve looked around in surprise. “Why would I?”

  “Because he’s freaking hot.” Sofia managed to say this with infinite patience while simultaneously making Reeve sound like the biggest dumbass who’d ever lived. Maybe it was the delicately raised eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m not in the market for anything,” Reeve said. Adam’s face had swum back into the forefront of her mind after a brief absence courtesy of Edward Harper, whose face was still lingering around the edges of her consciousness. The juxtaposition of the two men was more than a little jarring. “You, of all people, know that.”

  “Yeah, but what about sex? I mean, who are you hooking up with? There must be someone.”

  “Nosy, much?” Reeve asked, glaring. “My battery-operated boyfriend, that’s who. If you must know.”

  Aghast, Sofia’s jaw dropped so low it was in danger of hitting the steering wheel. “You use a plastic toy? That’s pathetic, honey. I’m just being honest. They’re fine for supplementation, but—”

  “Honestly? How about you shut the hell up?”

  Sofia snorted with repressed laughter. “This is how you treat me when I come rescue you?”

  “Yeah,” Reeve said, pressing a hand over her heart and making a show of hanging her head for a second. “And I feel terrible about it, but I still want you to shut the hell up. Okay?”

  “But...How do you live?” Sofia persisted.

  “Very well, thanks. Lack of sex is nothing to get worked up about. And med school is exhausting, in case you never got the memo. And I cannot believe we’re having this conversation.”

  “Well, you never know when the right person is going to turn up and rock your world,” Sofia said. “Just keep an open mind, okay?”

  Reeve hesitated while Edward’s image edged Adam’s out of the picture. Then she shook her head to banish him, too.

  “I’m open to meeting men, ghosts, and extraterrestrials, but that doesn’t mean I’m going hunting for one.”

  “All I’m saying,” Sofia said, nailing her with a full dose of patronizing concern, “is that when the right person comes along, he’s going to change everything you think you know about everything. You’re not going to know what hit you. And that’s all I’m going to say.”

  Reeve fidgeted, smoothing her hair and then checking her earrings. “You’re a walking cliché. You know that, right? You seriously need to stop watching Disney princess movies before you turn into a big fat ball of cotton candy.”

  “I can’t wait to tell you I told you so,” Sofia said smugly.

  “You’ll be waiting a long damn time,” Reeve grumbled.

  They lapsed into silence for the final leg of the drive.

  After swinging by her house on the outskirts of town so they could drop Muffin off and Reeve could change into dry clothes, Sofia turned onto the main street leading to downtown Journey’s End, which seemed to be thriving, probably thanks in part to the July Fourth weekenders up from New York City. Reeve took a moment to admire the view. For this arrival home, her sleepy little hometown presented her with a perfect slice of summer, and she couldn’t stop her excited grin as she peered out the window.

  DeGroot Street—as kindergartners, they’d all learned that the area had been settled by the Dutch and de groot actually meant large—was on such full and leafy display that it seemed unlikely that The Black could find her here, even if it tried. Massive white oak and hickory trees threw the quaint storefronts into shade, but she could make out the low-key signs for some of the new businesses that’d popped up while she was away at med school. An antique store. Open Sky Outfitters, one of those shops for the active life outdoors. Java Nectar, a coffeehouse and café with a blue awning and matching market umbrellas shading the fenced seating area near the sidewalk. There were a couple other restaurants farther down, including one called Pub 221B, apparently after Sherlock Holmes’s London address, and another called Harper Rose Bistro.

  “Hang on,” Reeve said, pointing. “Harper Rose? I had a really good Chardonnay called Harper Rose a couple weeks ago. Is that the same outfit?”

  “Yeah. Local winery. They make great reds, too.”

  “Oh,” Reeve said, wondering if Edward and his family had anything to do with the winery.

  “And we have gelato now, too. Look.”

  It was the pale yellow storefront. A gaggle of kids happily licked cones on the sidewalk in front of it while their harried-looking parents brandished napkins and tried to stay on top of the drippy messes.

  “Gelato!” Reeve breathed. “For dessert tonight?”

  “Maybe. We might have some people over after the fireworks.” Against all odds, Sofia found an open space at the meter at the end of the street, smoothly slid the behemoth into it and killed the engine. “Wait’ll you see the cookies and stuff at Java Nectar. You might want one of those after lunch.”

  “Why choose? It’s a holiday, right?”

  “Amen, sister,” Sofia said, fist-bumping her.

  Laughing, Reeve started to open her door, but Sofia put a hand on her arm to hold her back.

  “I want to talk to you before we go inside.”

  The determined set to Sofia’s chin did not bode well, and Reeve so wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. Not on this beautiful summer day. “I thought we’d been talking, Sof. This whole time.”

  “This is serious,” Sofia said.

  Reeve rolled her eyes. “Fine. But can’t we have this serious talk over some serious food? I’m starving.”

  “No. Now.”

  Reeve sighed harshly. Waited.

  Sofia took off her sunglasses, the better to nail Reeve with her most penetratingly concerned expression. “You’re not still going through with your crazy plan to see Mrs. B, are you?”

  “It’s not crazy, and yes,” Reeve said, folding her arms and frowning, not that negative body language ever did any good with Sofia. “Anything else?”

  “I think it’s a bad idea.”

  “Wow. There’s a news flash,” Reeve muttered.

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “I mean, have you talked to her at all in the last four years? Did you call to say you were coming? Have you heard anything whatsoever about her?”

  The answers were no, no and no, not that Reeve’s guilt would let her admit it. She turned her head away from Sofia, staring stonily out the window.

  Sofia, of course, gleaned the worst. “Reeve! What do you hope to accomplish by just waltzing in there with no warning? She’s not going to want to see you! You know that! You’ve got to let go of those regrets!”

  “That’s the thing,” Reeve said.

  Her voice was hoarse, probably because The Black was back, crowding in on her with a suffocating wave of ugliness and gloom. It never went very far. It would let her enjoy small snippets of a sunny day, or a few minutes of a handsome man’s company, but whenever it thought she might be having too much fun, developing a life or planning a complete escape, it swooped back in to remind her it was still her daddy.

  As usual, it brought its own personal chorus of hecklers with it, and they all lined up in her head and started spewing their shit. It was always the same shit. And just because Reeve knew it was shit didn’t mean she didn’t believe it deep in her heart.

  You think you get to be happy?

  After what you did to Adam?

  Really?

  You don’t deserve to be happy, Reeve. You know you don’t deserve it.

  “I don’t feel regret because I know I did the right thing for me. And that makes
me feel guilty. I feel so. Freaking. Guilty.” Reeve laughed bitterly, turning to face Sofia again. “I’d like to try some regret for a while, though. It might be a refreshing change.”

  Sofia gave her a sad smile and squeezed her arm. “When’re you going to stop punishing yourself, honey?”

  Good question. Reeve shrugged hopelessly. “I have to try with Mrs. B. Maybe if I make some progress with her, I’ll be able to look at myself in the mirror again.” Another bitter laugh. “Maybe I’ll finally be able to sleep at night.”

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  Feeling antsy and having nothing better to do for the afternoon, Edward decided to drop by Open Sky Outfitters on his way home. With the long holiday weekend in full swing, he figured his older brother James might need some help selling hiking boots, camping supplies and other outdoor goods to all the tourists in from the city. DeGroot Street parking was a bitch, so he circled the block a few times and wound up parking in his own damn driveway before making the five-minute walk back to Open Sky, dodging tourists as he went.

  When he opened the glass door and strode into the air-conditioned comfort inside, he was immediately greeted by James’s blue-eyed husky named Frank (for Sinatra), who trotted over, sniffed Edward’s crotch to make sure he was still friend and not foe, then sat at his feet and licked his hand.

  “What’s up, Frank? You having a good holiday week—oh, hell, no, what’s this?”

  Frank, who rolled in deer shit whenever he got the chance and therefore didn’t know any better, gave him a tongue-dangling doggy smile while Edward examined the garish red, white and blue bandana someone had tied around the poor canine’s neck.

  “Who did this to you, man?” Edward asked the dog.

  “Miranda and the boys.” James, balancing a three-foot-high stack of shoeboxes, strode out from the back room and over to the display on the back wall opposite the plate glass window. Edward and Frank followed him. “They decorate for every holiday. I have half a mind to tell them that Richard Nixon Remembrance Day is in the fall, just to see what they come up with.”