Almost Paradise

by Chris Keniston

  “I’m surprised it didn’t break on day 366. Electronics and other gadgets seem to know the second the warranty expires, and then,” Kara waved her now-empty arms. “Kablooey.”

  Lexie opened another box. “And we want to get Angela out of her house. She’s been holed up all week—”

  “Or avoiding us.” Kara turned to help with the second box.

  “Why would she do that?” Lexie asked.

  Yeah. Billy wanted to know. Why would she do that? At her birthday party, she’d seemed to be over her discomforts, and for the first time he saw her not as Lexie’s friend with a crush on Nick, but a bright, fun woman who he hoped considered him a friend now, too.

  “No reason.” Kara gave a nonchalant shrug before looking to Billy. “So, you’ll take on entertaining my other half?”

  “I’m sure we men can find something to do.”

  Leaning into the box again, Kara scooped up the last of the water shoes. “Just keep him out of trouble.”

  Hadn’t he always? Except right now it was Angela who worried him. He knew she was embarrassed to face the men in the shop, but why would she be avoiding her friends, too. Was it the upcoming laparoscopy thing? Or had she lied about the cancer? Or did it have something to do with that sad look he’d seen in her eyes when the doc had been talking about loss and grieving. Damn, he wished he’d been able to talk with her again that night. By the time the psychologist had finished questioning him, Angela had been drawn away by other partygoers, and the opportunity to casually circle back to her never came along. And neither did any answers to the questions still swimming about in his mind.

  Not for the first time since her birthday had he been tempted to pick up the phone and call. To ask what troubled her. But just as every time before, good sense prevailed. He’d tried the knight-in-shining-armor routine already. He was better off minding his own business. Everyone would be better off.

  Twenty minutes later he heard a lot more giggling and laughing than he’d noticed most of the afternoon. Pushing away from his desk, Billy stood and moved quietly across the room. Opening the door only a crack, he looked out.

  Kara and Lexie were showing a young couple and their two small children the new section. The little boy, who looked to be around Bradley’s age, had his nose in the shark book. He’d have to remember to add some child-sized chairs for them to sit and look through the reading material the same way the adults did at independent bookstores.

  But it was the little girl who captivated his attention. Probably somewhere around two or three years old, she had long blonde hair that swirled into gentle curls at the ends. Her face reminded him of a porcelain doll. Button big eyes and pursed pink lips. She stood twirling and dancing with the larger stuffed octopus. Every so often a bright smile would bloom across her face, she’d call to her mother and then continue dancing to the happy tune only she could hear.

  The scene drew him back to the other night and to Angela’s question. “Yes, Angela. I like children.”

  Chapter Five

  “I’ll take Hugh Jackman any day.” Angela held her empty glass out for Kara to fill.

  “I don’t know. He looked good in this movie, but he’s looking a little scraggly lately.” Lexie tossed the sofa cushion to one side and lifted the bowl of popcorn onto her lap. “I’d rather have Zac Efron.”

  “Too young.” Kara filled everyone’s glasses and set the fresh pitcher of margaritas on the coffee table. “Brad Pitt still has what it takes.”

  “If we’re talking Oceans, Matt Damon is my choith.” Angela took a sip. It definitely paid to have a native Texan as designated bartender for the evening. “Have I mentioned these are the best margaritas?”

  “Yes.” Kara raised her glass to Angela. “Just after Jack explained no woman wants to date a buffoon, and again when he announced Meg Ryan as his future bride.”

  “That’s right. Blondes always get the gweat guys. What did you put in this again? Best margarita I’ve ever had.”

  Kara laughed. “Tequila. And from the sound of it, maybe a little too much.”

  “I must have lost count. How many of those has she had?” Lexie directed the question to Kara then turned to Angela, passing the popcorn her way. “Eat some popcorn.”

  “Only two-ooh.”

  Kara and Lexie shook their heads, but Kara was the one to say, “I’ve poured three for you.”

  “And I poured her one when I refilled mine.” Lexie glanced at the pitcher then to Kara and back to Angela. “Honey, how many did you pour for yourself?”

  “Told you. Two-ooh.” Okay, so maybe the world was a little happier now, but the way her friends were staring at her, anyone would think she’d turned into a pumpkin. Or maybe a pumpkin margarita. Now that was funny.

  Kara set her glass down on the end table. “Uh-oh. She’s laughing all by herself. Not good.”

  “I’ll put on the coffee.” Lexie sprang up from her seat and headed into the kitchen.

  Kara followed quickly behind her. “I’ll get some crackers.”

  “Do you think we’ll be able to sober her up before Nick gets home?”

  “Not a chance, but maybe we can help make tomorrow morning a little less frightening.”

  “I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” Holding the glass in one hand, Angela pushed to her feet without spilling a drop. She grinned to herself. All small successes were worth applauding. “I’m fine. Just a wittle bit happy.”

  “Wittle?” Kara marched back into the living room.

  “Not wittle. Wittle.” Angela smiled and put her drink to her lips only to have Kara reach out and pull it away.

  “Sorry, girlfriend. You’ve been cut off.”

  “Party pwooper.” Angela had to laugh at herself. Even to her own ears, that didn’t sound right. “Oops.”

  “Yeah. Oops.” Kara chuckled. A box of crackers in one hand, she offered Angela a few. “Here you gwo. I mean go.”

  “Oh, no. Not you twooh.” Angela spurted through fits of giggles, dropping to the floor, arm straight up, finger pointing to the ceiling. “It’s con-tay-gious.”

  Clutching the box of crackers, tears filling her eyes from laughter, Kara sat beside her friend. “Have a cracker.”

  “I’m really glad you moved to Hawaii.” Angela flashed a Cheshire grin.

  “Me, twooh, too.” Kara wiped at the corner of her eye.

  Angela leaned closer to her newest friend. “I used to have a crush on your husband.”

  “I know.” Kara lowered her voice. “Lately I thought you might be avoiding me because…well, because.”

  “Nah, I like you better.” Angela grinned.

  Kara spewed out a cracker. “Excuse me?”

  “Not like you.” Angela giggled. “Like you. I didn’t want to like Nick’s fiancée, but you’re too nice not to like. And ’sides, you make gweat margaritas.”

  “Thanks, and for the record, I didn’t think I’d like you either.” Laughing to herself, Kara shook her head. “There was this Realtor back home who really wanted to get her hooks into Nick.” Kara lifted her hands, curled her fingers in a clawlike gesture, and laughed out loud. “I expected to find a Brenda Westfall on the prowl for my future husband, and instead I find myself bonding with Farah Fawcett and Jacqueline Smith.

  “That makes you Kate Jackson.” Giggling, Angela held up her arm, toasting with an empty hand. “To Charlie’s Angels.”

  “To Charlie’s Angels.” Teary eyed with laughter, Kara raised her nonexistent margarita to meet Angela’s hand.

  “What the hell are you two doing on the floor?” Lexie stood over her friends with a cup of coffee in each hand. “And what is so damn funny?”

  Between gasps of laughter and fits of giggles, Angela and Kara filled Lexie in on their recent revelations. By the time they’d finished, all three of them were sitting on the floor swiping tears from their eyes and cackling like schoolgirls at a slumber party.

  “I vote we make Kara’s margaritas the official girls’ night
out drink.” Angela bit her lip to stay the laughter, but she was fighting a losing battle. Suddenly everything from the two coffee mugs on the floor beside her to Nick and Billy standing in the doorway staring at them seemed like the most hilarious thing she’d ever seen. Nick and Billy? “Oops.”

  * * *

  It took Billy a few seconds to realize the clump of laundry in the middle of the living room floor was actually his best friend’s wife, his shop manager, and the woman he’d been worrying about for almost a week. All laughing like hyenas. Softly he asked Nick, “Is it always like this?”

  “Nope.” Nick shook his head. “First time for everything.”

  He was pretty sure the women were too busy laughing to notice they’d come home. “So, man, uh, what do we do now?”

  “Beats me. I’m new at this husband thing. Not sure if there’s anything in the rule book about this.”

  “How drunk do you think they are?”

  “Depends on whether they’re sitting on the floor on purpose or if it rose up to greet them.”

  “Makes sense.” Billy’s vote was on they were royally plastered. “I guess it’s a good thing Bradley spent the night at his friend’s.”

  “Mm. Do you suppose this is going to be like going in and rescuing our own or facing a bevy of drunken Marines?”

  “I certainly hope our own. I can’t swing back at a woman. My mother would kill me.”

  “On three?”

  Billy took his eyes off the laughing women and turned them to his friend. “Coward.”

  “I want to hear you say that when you have your own wife.”

  Not going to happen. Not anymore.

  * * *

  “Shh. Ladies. Look.” Angela swallowed another giggle and pointed to the door.

  “Oh.” Kara muffled a laugh and pushed to her feet. “Hi, honey.”

  Nick offered a wobbly smile but remained in place. “We’re home.”

  Angela wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard Billy mumble “smooth.” Logic told her now would be an appropriate time to get up off the floor, but her legs weren’t receiving the message.

  “Need some help?”

  She wasn’t sure when he’d moved, but Billy stood over her holding out his arm. Beside him, Nick extended a hand to Lexie who seemed to spring up easily. Angela wasn’t convinced standing was such a good idea. Her legs were still not communicating with her neurons. Or was it synapses?

  “Angela?”

  “Why don’t you join me?” Patting the carpet beside her, it suddenly struck her what a stupid thing for her to say. From what little she’d seen, Billy’s prosthetic leg seemed to let him do everything a human leg did. Most of the time she’d forgotten he’d lost a leg. But squatting on the floor beside her didn’t strike her as something easy for him to do. And if it was, surely getting up again would be problematic.

  “As much as I’d enjoy sitting with you, I think Nick and Kara need their floor back.” He kept his hand extended in front of her.

  “Oh. Yes.” She giggled again. “I suppose so.”

  Unlike her legs, her arms were willing to follow instructions, only slowly. And a little off center. She was tempted to tell Billy to keep his arm steady, but the part of her brain that could still process clearly knew Billy wasn’t the problem.

  Focused intently on getting her arm near Billy’s, she’d nearly given up when his hand swallowed hers and lifted her straight up. Gravity seemed to work against her, or was that for her? Whichever sent her flying against his chest. His wide, hard, sculpted chest. “You smell nice.”

  The corners of his mouth tilted up. “Thanks, so do you.”

  “You’re tall, too. How tall are you?”

  “Six two in my stocking foot.”

  “Hee hee, foot, that’s good. I have two.” That same part of her brain that was thinking rationally shouted for her to shut up, but her mouth didn’t feel inclined to cooperate. “You’re strong.”

  Instantly his brow curled with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Nope. You’re just right. Too late. But just right.” Too bad. “What a waste.” Stepping back, she noticed Billy’s eyes had circled big and round. What had she said?

  “You, young lady, are sleeping here tonight.” Kara handed her a saltine.

  Lexie dropped into the nearby sofa. “She’s right. I’m going to crash in the guest room. We can share.”

  “No. I’m okay.” Too bad her legs still hadn’t gotten the memo. She bit into the cracker.

  “You may be feeling okay, but you can’t drive.” Nick stepped up beside his wife. “Guest room bed is king size. Plenty of room for you and Lexie.”

  Except for Lexie on the sofa, Nick, Kara, and Billy had circled around her. Her legs felt a bit more stable, but her friends were right. She was in no shape to drive. “I have to go home. Tomorrow they’re coming to install the new Internet wiring. I’ve had to wait a week for the stupid appointment anytime between eight and noon.”

  “We’re all up early here. We can get you home in time.” Kara nudged Nick.

  “She’s right. I have to be at the marina by seven. You’ll have plenty of time to get home by eight a.m.”

  “I’d rather wait till I can drive and sleep in my own bed.”

  “That’s my night owl,” Lexie called from the couch. “Billy, you have to drive right past her house. Why don’t you give her a ride home? Kara and I can drop her car off tomorrow at a reasonable hour of the morning.”

  “Since when do you have a problem with mornings?” Nick asked.

  “Since you married a Texan who makes killer margaritas.” Lexie threw her elbow over her eyes. “You know. I’m thinking this sofa will work great. Good night.”

  Nick spun on his heel to face his friend. “Looks like it’s on you, bud. Taking her home or are we hog-tying her for the night?”

  “I can drop her off.”

  “Excuse me, do I not get a say in this?”

  “No,” the two former navy men chorused.

  “Do you need some help?” Billy held his hand out to her again.

  “Sure.” She didn’t really, but how often did she get to hold hands with a good-looking guy? When his fingers folded around hers, all her senses went on high alert. “Where were you two years ago?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Not you. My senses.” Her hand still firmly ensconced in his, her brain finally caught up with her mouth. Oh shit.

  * * *

  Well, wasn’t this an interesting way to end the evening? Billy turned the corner into Angela’s driveway. The building wasn’t much from the outside, but he’d heard Lexie mention more than once the woman had a view to die for.

  A small fourplex, each apartment had assigned parking under the main area of the building. Time to wake up Sleeping Beauty. “Angela, what’s your apartment number?”

  She didn’t budge. Shoulder against the window, elbow on the armrest, her cheek weighed heavily on her closed fist. Her parents had named her well. Sleeping so peacefully, she looked like an angel. Pretty, too. “Come on, Angel. I need a little direction.”

  He tapped her shoulder, and she shifted her head, straightening her back. From the brief grimace that flashed across her face, he’d venture she was going to have one heck of a kink in her neck come morning. “Angela, where do I park?”

  Lashes fluttered, and sleepy eyes struggled to focus.

  “You’re home. Which is your apartment?”

  Blinking repeatedly, she turned in his direction. Billy wasn’t sure if she was trying to better see or hear him, but whichever, he repeated the question. “I need to park. Which apartment letter is yours?”

  “D,” she muttered, closing her eyes as though satisfied her job was done.

  “I’m going to need keys.”

  “Mm.”

  He was losing her again. Shifting the car into

  Park, he reached for her purse on the floor and placed it on her lap. This was not how he’d planned to spend the remainder of his ev
ening. He’d intended to go straight home. Check the online registration pages for the new junior program. Maybe fine tune the recently added web pages. If that didn’t take long, he’d start that new book his mom gave him. Or he could tinker some more with the program schedule. Not that it needed it. He’d spent most nights tweaking and retweaking the program until it practically squeaked at him. Of course, none of it mattered. Anything was better than sleeping.

  Exiting the car, he circled his way around to Angela’s side, opened the door, and almost didn’t grab her in time as she tilted off balance. Her head landed against his hip. Only his hands held her steady.

  Big brown eyes gazed up at him, and a broad smile emerged. “Hi.”

  “You’re home.” Billy tugged on her arms, lifting her out of the car. At first her legs didn’t seem to catch on to the concept of standing, but after a few seconds they grew more surefooted. “I need the keys to unlock the door.”

  Still smiling at him, she swung her purse in his direction. As groggy as she was, he had no idea when she’d had the consciousness of thought to actually grab her purse in the first place, but he was eternally thankful he didn’t need to be on all fours at this moment scooping up the mysterious contents of a woman’s dropped handbag.

  “Yellow key is front door. Green is storage. Blue is office. Red is Lexie’s.”

  Clearly she meant for him to find the keys. It couldn’t be any worse than scavenging through his sister’s purse for tampons. This was keys. How personal could keys get? Unzipping the leather bag, he glanced inside, hoping they’d be tossed on top. No such luck. Moving things around, he found a wallet, checkbook, small spiral notebook, pocket calendar. People still used paper calendars? Spotting another zippered compartment he opened it. Damn, the dreaded tampons. Next idea. Outside pouch. Bingo.

  Considering Angela could watch him raid her purse and not blush, he knew she was still more tipsy than groggy. Keys in one hand, he gave her back the purse and offered his arm. “This way, Angel.”