by Brenda Novak
“Don’t challenge me,” he murmured.
“Why not?” she responded flippantly.
“Because you already know what I want.”
“And?”
“Getting it wouldn’t be good for either one of us.”
“Maybe I’m tired of being good,” she said. “But I’ll respect your wishes. Good night.”
Before Isaac could even blink, he was standing out on her front stoop with the door closed firmly behind him. Maybe I’m tired of being good? If she wanted a torrid affair and was taking volunteers, he wanted to be the first in line. But—
Remember Liz. I should be happy the evening has ended so benignly.
Only he wasn’t happy at all. All he could think about was how hungry he was to feel Reenie beneath him.
He knocked.
When she opened the door, it was only by a few inches. “Did you forget something?” she asked innocently.
He pushed the door open wider. “Yeah, this.” Taking hold of her shirt, he pulled her to him, and kissed her, really kissed her. This time he didn’t give her the chance to turn away, but neither did she try. She put her arms around his neck and arched into him. One of them moaned; or maybe they both did. Then she parted her lips, letting him drink deeply, until desire burned through him like a good shot of whiskey.
When he finally let her go, they were both shaken and breathless. “Some people just don’t know what’s good for them,” he muttered, his eyes taking in her flushed face, her half-lowered eyelids.
“Are you talking about me or you?” she challenged.
He met her gaze. “Maybe both.”
“Then consider that kiss something to remember me by,” she said.
The door clicked closed once again.
Isaac frowned at the panel, then stabbed a hand through his hair. Damn, she was frustrating. Why couldn’t she simply agree that they had some type of powerful attraction going on that was better left alone—for everyone’s sake—and then leave it alone? Instead she had to make him feel as though he was missing out on something he might later regret.
Go home. Complete your grant applications. Get the hell out of Dundee. This woman could stand between him and the future he had scripted for himself. He’d never run into anyone else like her.
On the other hand, if she could take the heat, why was he the one backing away?
He pounded the door again. “There’s more where that came from,” he called. “But you’d better be damn sure you know what you’re asking for if you ever invite me back.”
Then he walked away.
* * *
LIZ WAS UP. Isaac could see the kitchen light burning through the front window when he pulled into the driveway, and sighed before letting himself into the house.
“Isaac?” his sister called as he closed the front door.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
She came to stand at the threshold of the kitchen, wearing an elegant cream-colored silk robe. She looked as though she’d been losing even more weight. She didn’t seem to be doing well in Dundee. She had no friends. Keith called her occasionally, but she was distant even with him.
Not that Isaac hoped she’d be warmer to Keith. He just wanted her to recover, be the person she’d been before Keith undid all the good of the past several years.
Somehow Isaac needed to get her to engage again. To care about people besides her kids.
“Have fun?” she said.
The strain in her shoulders and face told him she knew where he’d been. “Sort of. Why? Keith call?”
She watched him. “Stopped by, actually. He was furious.”
“He had no right to bother you.”
“I finally told him I’d have to call you out of your bedroom if he didn’t leave.”
“I’m sorry.”
She said nothing.
“I would’ve told you about Reenie myself. You know that, don’t you?” he said.
“You have the right to decide who you want to see.”
“I know, but…I can understand how you must feel toward her, Liz. I wish—” he shoved his hands into his pockets “—I wish I wasn’t so attracted to her.”
His sister opened her mouth, then closed it again and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Say it,” he said to her retreating back.
“Say what?”
He followed her to find that she was busy sewing the curtains she’d promised Mica for her bedroom. She spent all her time, when she wasn’t at the grocery store, working on projects that included her children or served them in some way. “Whatever you want to say. I’m tired of feeling as though you might shatter at any moment. Can’t we just—” he thought of Reenie and how honestly she faced the world “—talk frankly?”
“There’s nothing to say. You like her, I don’t.”
“You don’t really know her.”
“We’re not in the position to become good friends.”
He sat at the table. “I’ll be leaving for Africa soon.”
“Which is why I can’t understand what you’re doing. It’s not fair of me to expect you not to see her for my sake. But God, Isaac, what about her? As much as I hate her for the jealousy she inspires in me, as much as I hate her because Keith still wants her more than he ever wanted me, I know she’s been through a lot. Why would you get involved with her if you know that you’re leaving?”
“Because…there’s something about her, Liz. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“She’s the other woman in my life!”
“You don’t think I realize that?”
“Is she aware of how you feel?”
“She knows I’ll be leaving in a few months,” he said in lieu of an answer.
Only the sound of Liz’s scissors cutting through fabric broke the silence. Finally she said, “How do you think she feels about you?”
He shrugged. He was pretty certain Reenie would have made love with him tonight, had he handled the situation differently. But he didn’t volunteer that. There was honesty, and then there was stupidity.
“Is she over Keith?”
“She acts like it.”
“Keith said the girls are in Texas.”
“She told me the same thing.”
Liz set her scissors down and straightened. “Isaac, I—”
“What?” he said.
“You told me you wanted me to say what was on my mind.”
“Go ahead.”
“Since you’re leaving Dundee soon anyway, could you just…stay away from her?” she asked. Her expression turned beseeching. “Please?”
He stared at his sister, wondering why he found agreeing to her request so difficult. His libido had to be the problem, right? What else could it be? He and Reenie had very little in common other than having a close connection to Keith, which wasn’t a favorable thing. She was still recovering from her divorce. She had three children. The word commitment might as well be stamped across her forehead.
When he considered all those factors, he thought he could overcome his physical desire. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said at last.
“What?”
“You quit calling Dave Shapiro, and I’ll stop seeing Reenie.”
A frown creased her brow. “You know about Dave?”
“I knew there had to be some reason you waited for the phone bill every month, snatched it out of the pile and paid it before I could.”
“We just talk like friends. It’s nothing, really. He—he gives me something I need right now, Isaac, that’s all.”
“Reenie felt pretty necessary to me tonight, too,” he admitted. When he remembered her and that kiss, she still did.
“Did you sleep with her?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“No.”
“Good,” she said. “If I fall for Dave, it isn’t as though he’s going to love me back. They’re both dead-end relationships.”
“So we have nothing to lose by giving them up.”
“Right.” She finall
y nodded. “Okay.”
* * *
REENIE HAD WANTED to arrive early, so she could get a good seat for Caldwell Elementary’s Annual Talent Show and be settled before Liz or Isaac arrived. But she’d forgotten her video camera and had gone home for it at the last minute. Now Liz and her brother were already standing at the back of the multipurpose room, and Agnes Scott, who was in charge of the talent show this year, was addressing the audience.
“The children have worked so hard. I think this will be one of Caldwell’s best talent shows ever. When I first held the auditions…”
The place was packed to overflowing. Almost immediately, Reenie removed her lightweight black jacket and slung it over one arm. The weather was cool and mellow, a perfect spring evening, but it was stifling inside. Especially because a few folks still turned to stare when she and Liz were in a room together. She hated the extra attention, wished people would mind their own business. But she couldn’t escape it tonight. Jennifer would soon be on stage doing a cheer she’d choreographed herself. Angela would perform a tap-dance routine. And Isabella would be singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
“Reenie!”
Reenie glanced up to see Keith waving at her. He’d told her he probably wouldn’t be coming, that he had to drive his dad to Boise for a doctor’s appointment in the late afternoon. Evidently he’d managed to get back in time.
I’ve got a seat for you right here! he mouthed, pointing to the chair next to him. But Reenie didn’t want to sit there. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say about Isaac coming to her house last Friday. Keith had tried to call her several times already, had even stopped by the farm again after Isaac had left that night, and then the next day. But she’d managed to brush him off with the threat that she’d call Gabe if he didn’t leave her alone. Gabe might be in a wheelchair, but no one messed with him. He could make people back off with a single raised eyebrow.
Wishing her mother wasn’t away with her father, getting ready for a fund-raiser in the Panhandle, she held up her video camera and motioned to tell her ex-husband she had other plans. Then she hurried across the room and stood against the wall. She felt Isaac’s eyes on her as she moved, but refused to look at him. She could also feel Liz’s cool disdain.
The lights lowered and a spotlight illuminated the stage as two kindergarteners came out to do a magic trick. They stuffed one scarf into a hat and pulled out a whole string of them in many different colors. Afterward, they made a ball disappear and reappear using various cups.
Everyone clapped when they finished. Then Mica came out in a pretty dress and black patent leather pumps, walking with the perfect poise of her mother. “I’m going to play Moonlight Sonata by Ludwig van Beethoven,” she said into the microphone and headed for the piano someone had rolled into the center of the stage.
Reenie put her video camera down. Angela rarely talked about Mica anymore—when she did it was with a certain amount of respect—but Reenie didn’t see any need to make Mica part of her family’s permanent record of this event.
Still, as Mica situated herself on the piano bench, Reenie began to feel very ungenerous. Mica was no different from any other child; Liz was no different than any other woman. They had suffered, too. Probably just as much as Reenie and her children, maybe more.
With a sigh, Reenie raised her camera again and pressed the record button. She was going to fight the jealousy, overcome it, she decided. Surely she could be a better person than she’d been.
Mica played strictly from memory, and not some simplified version of the sonata, as Reenie had expected. The piece was obviously very difficult, yet the girl didn’t miss a note.
When she finished, the audience erupted in enthusiastic applause. Reenie held her video recorder with her legs so she could join in. She even found herself smiling broadly. What an amazing child. Angela had mentioned, here and there, the kind of test scores Mica always received. Evidently, Liz’s daughter had a number of talents.
Smiling shyly, Mica bowed and walked offstage, and Reenie couldn’t help looking back at Isaac. She expected him to be accepting the accolades of those around him. She can really play…Wow, is she only eight?…I’ve never heard such a young girl master the piano like that… Certainly Liz was smiling proudly and responding to those around her. But her brother had his arms folded and was leaning against the wall—looking directly at Reenie.
When their eyes met, Reenie felt her stomach lift as though she’d just been swept into the ocean by a particularly strong wave. What had happened last Friday seemed to play between them—the hours of comfortable companionship, the images he’d painted of Africa, the kiss at the door, even his final comment: There’s more where that came from. But you’d better be damned sure you know what you’re asking for if you ever invite me back.
They hadn’t contacted each other since, but the attraction hadn’t fizzled. If anything, it had grown stronger. She could tell he wanted to be with her now as badly as he had then. And she wanted to be with him every bit as much.
“What are you doing?” Keith snapped.
Reenie blinked and pulled her attention away from Isaac to see her ex-husband looming over her. “Nothing, why?”
“You’re staring at Isaac.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Who were you looking at, then?”
“Nobody. Stop it,” Reenie said. “I’m happy for him and Liz, that’s all. Mica did a great job.”
“You’re happy that Mica did well?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Of course, but…” Keith’s expression grew tortured. “You don’t care about me anymore, do you. You want Isaac.”
“I don’t want anyone.”
“He loves his work, Reenie. He loves being free to spend months at a time in Africa. He won’t stay here with you.”
“Like you did?” she said, unable to resist the barb.
“Like I’m willing to do now,” he said earnestly.
“You’d better sit down,” she said. “You’re making it hard for people to see.”
“He won’t treat you right, Reenie.”
“I can worry about myself, Keith.”
Mrs. Devonish, one of the teachers at the school, made her way over to them. “Keith, do you mind?” she whispered. “You’re disrupting the show.”
With a final frown for Reenie, he nodded and moved away, and Reenie went back to videotaping what was happening onstage, wondering if Keith could be right. Did she want Isaac? Since last Friday, she’d watched her AOL account religiously, hoping for a response to the e-mail she’d sent him, thanking him for taking her home and telling him she’d had a good time. She’d begun to look for him or his truck almost everywhere she went. And the unhappiness she’d felt about having him work at the high school had changed into something much more akin to excitement. She knew he wasn’t long-term boyfriend material, but a girl deserved to have a little fun, didn’t she?
Isabella came out and began to sing her song. As usual, every r sounded like a w. “Somewhere over the wainbow, dweams come twue…”
Reenie couldn’t help grinning as she watched proudly. When Isabella came to the end of her song, Reenie applauded wildly. Then her thoughts returned to Isaac. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t avoid the truth. She’d be a fool to get involved with Liz’s brother. With the farm and her job and her girls, she had more than she could handle already. The very last thing she needed was a quick fling with a man who’d soon be flying off to the jungles of Africa.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“YOU’RE INFATUATED,” Liz said as Mica and Christopher raced off to get another cookie from the refreshment table.
Isaac scowled, but even as she accused him, he couldn’t help letting his focus follow Reenie as she moved about the room, talking to friends, trying to gather up her girls. She was wearing a low-cut pair of jeans he particularly liked, with a tight-fitting sweater and a sexy pair of boots. He enjoyed watching her walk. “No, I’m not.”
“You’re acting very predatory, like some big cat or something. Maybe you’re not ready to pounce, but you can’t take your eyes off your prey.”
To prove his sister wrong, he forced himself to turn his back to the entire room. “I agreed not to see her, and I haven’t.” He hadn’t even responded to the e-mail she’d sent him, which hadn’t been easy to ignore. “What about you? Any calls I don’t know about?”
Her eyebrows knit as though she wasn’t finding their agreement any easier to abide by than he was. “He left me a message last night.”
“Did you return it?”
“No.”
“Good girl.”
“He’s not quite as bad as you think. And he lives a thousand miles away. What difference could it possibly make if—”
“Liz?”
Reenie’s voice. An invisible current swept through Isaac as he turned and found her standing right beside him, along with her three daughters.
Liz quickly masked her surprise. “Yes?” she said warily.
“I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed Mica’s performance. She’s very talented,” she said.
Liz blinked several times before managing to find her voice. “Thank you. I—Your girls did a great job, too.”
Reenie smiled triumphantly. Isaac knew she was proud of her children, but he could also tell that the triumph in her smile had very little to do with the talent show. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Liz repeated, then, when they were out of earshot, she turned questioningly to Isaac. “Evidently she likes you, too,” she murmured.
Isaac watched Reenie walk out. “She didn’t do that for me,” he said.
* * *
REENIE SAT in front of her computer. The kids were in bed, happily exhausted after the talent show. They had school in the morning, and she had to teach. But it was Thursday night, so the weekend was drawing close. She could handle one more short night. It was the cold shoulder she was getting from Isaac that really bothered her.
Why hadn’t he written her back? Or called? She knew he found her attractive. He’d stared at her so much tonight he’d probably missed half the show.
Her buddy list showed him as being online, so she clicked on Read Mail. Nothing.
