Authors: Grace Greene
“
No. Not at all.” She was stunned by his reaction. “I wasn’t being critical. I was impressed.” She thought about it. “Was, that is, until you decided to be mean.” She turned to walk away.
He grabbed her arm.
“Just a minute. Impressed? Why?”
“
Your patience. With Will, at least.”
“
You didn’t look impressed. You looked like you were cross-examining me.”
“
Honestly, what’s up with you? Why are you so cranky?”
He dropped his hand.
“I’m sorry. I guess I was remembering when I was here for my own therapy. I wasn’t the best patient. Not a
patient
patient.”
“
So this is where you got your training?”
He stared at her as if she
’d grown a third eyeball right in the middle of her forehead.
“
What’s wrong?” She whispered, made uneasy by the intensity of his gaze.
He reached
over and she waited, mesmerized, as he touched that space between her eyebrows, softly, gently. What was going on? She didn’t know, but she held still, hardly breathing. His fingers slid down, tracing her jaw line and stopped on her throat. Before she had to make a decision regarding his behavior or her response, he pulled away. She didn’t move.
“
Join me for coffee? Maybe a bite to eat?”
She exhaled and found her voice.
“Is this a date?”
“
I don’t know. I guess we’ll figure that out.”
She nodded.
Frannie followed him down Arendell Street. He rode his motorcycle. His bike was faded and dented. Reminded her of his manners. But then who was she to critique anyone’s interpersonal skills? She was pretty sure she’d presented a calm façade during the…moment. She reached up and touched that spot between her eyes. She felt the two furrows and wished she could make them go away, and maybe erase a couple of years while she was at it. Maybe she should see a plastic surgeon.
Dinner with Brian.
The idea made her stomach flip around a little.
Play it cool. It’s dinner, not a commitment.
They passed restaurants
as they drove until finally, he turned into the parking lot of a small restaurant.
Irrationally,
now that they had finally arrived, she was tempted to press her foot down on the accelerator and keep on going.
He was already off his bike and waiting, helmet in his arm, as she pulled up in the parking space next to his and got out of her car.
She asked, “I know the weather’s been milder, but it’s not really bike weather, is it?”
“
Depends on the rider.”
He held the
diner’s door open for her and when she headed toward the tables off to the left, he steered her to a booth over by the windows. Not much real privacy, but at least the tall board between the booths gave the illusion. He helped her off with her coat, thinking it had been a long time since he’d done that. He unzipped his jacket and stripped off his gloves, dropping them next to his helmet while Fran carefully folded her coat and laid it on the seat next to her purse before she slid in.
She sat so straight. Some sort of extreme posture. He had a flash of that scene from the movie Titanic. The one where the girls were taught to sit like that. The idea of Megan in one of those lacey dresses and sitting with a board-straight back at a tea table almost choked him. Then, in a brief flash, he felt a loss, as if important things were missing in Megan
’s life and it was his fault. But not that. Megan would kill him if he tried to make her do that. The thought made him smile and Fran smiled back.
“
Have you been here before?”
“
Many times. It’s not fancy, but the food’s good and it’s easy on the wallet. You haven’t been here?”
“
No.”
“
I thought everyone in eastern North Carolina had eaten here at one time or another.”
“
Cox Family Restaurant.” She read from the menu.
“
I forget that you’re from west of I-95.”
“
Hah. You say that like it’s a different country.”
“
It sorta is.” He watched her focus on the menu items, running one finger down the list, moving like a speed-reader. Her finger came to a halt.
“
Something look good to you?”
She tapped the menu.
“Grilled cheese. I don’t think I’ve had a grilled cheese sandwich since I was a child.” She smiled. “It reminds me of my dad and autumn afternoons. Not sure why. I guess there’s memories deep down inside somewhere.”
“
Your dad. You don’t talk about him. About your mother some, though I can’t say it’s good. But not about your dad at all.”
“
My dad died when I was a teenager.” She drummed her fingers on the table. A sharp drumming, then an abrupt stop.
Her eyes, her fingers,
moving and fidgeting like when she was watching him paint. Always moving except for when he’d seen her with Megan.
“
Laurel is my stepmother.”
“
Yeah? As in evil stepmother?”
“
No, that sounds childish and, besides, she’s actually my adoptive mother. I’ve only just found out and I’m still getting used to the idea. She and I have some things to work out.”
“
Just found out?”
She grimaced.
“Long story and not good for the digestion.”
She
’d said it with finality and he let it go. “You’re a mystery woman.”
“
Me? Sorry to disappoint, but there’s nothing about me or my life worth being mysterious about.”
“
Order?”
They both jumped. He didn
’t recognize the waitress. He knew most of them and would’ve engaged this one in conversation, but didn’t want to annoy Fran by making it look like he was flirting in front of her, so he jumped right into ordering.
He asked her,
“Grilled cheese for you, right? Coffee or soda?”
She raised her eyebrows. He knew right away he should
’ve let her speak for herself. Maybe her edginess was catching.
“
Do you have sparkling water? With a slice of lemon?”
The waitress said,
“No, ma’am. Glass of water?”
“
That will be fine.” She threw up her hand. “No, wait. Do you have iced tea?”
“
Sweet or unsweet?”
“
Sweet tea. Yes, with lemon, please.”
Sweet tea
. Yet she looked so pleased with herself. Almost smug. But those eyes. Was it the innocence in them, or the wariness that kept snaring him?
She caught him staring.
“What about Megan? It’s not a school day.”
“
She’s with Diane.”
“
Her mom’s back?”
He shrugged.
“Yep. No idea where she went. She didn’t have much to say about it.” He’d asked, for all the good it did him. “She’s keeping her secrets to herself.”
“
Secrets.” Frannie sighed and put her elbow on the table and rested her cheek against her hand. “Now that I think of it, by the time a woman gets to be my age she ought to have a few secrets.”
“
I’d say so.” He grinned. “It’s not that hard to get into enough trouble to have some. I can give lots of advice on that.”
“
I’ll let you know if I need some of that advice.”
Was she flirting? Sounded like it.
“You seem more relaxed now. In the beginning, you were pretty nervous.”
She shrugged, but looked down at the pepper shaker as if it were fascinating.
“You were a stranger. Isn’t every woman uneasy around strange men?”
He tried not to laugh and it came out sounding like a snort.
“Actually, no.”
“
Well, I am.”
“
Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living?”
“
Do? As in a job?”
“
Yes. You must have a very flexible employer if you can hang around here for several weeks without them complaining. Or maybe you took leave?”
“
I tried a couple of jobs, but they didn’t work out. Mostly, I do volunteer work. A little here, a little there.”
“
Isn’t it boring, staying at someone else’s house? With not much to do, I mean.”
She shook her head.
“It’s too far to keep driving back and forth. Besides—”
“
Besides what?”
“
I’m enjoying the break from Laurel.”
Brian found himself pushing the salt shaker back and forth between his hands. He set it aside.
“Am I getting too personal?”
“
Like I said, I don’t have any secrets. Other people, but not me.”
“
So you live at home?” He stopped short of adding
still
.
Sigh.
“I moved back home for a while and stayed. It’s only my…Laurel and me. She was lonely after father died. She asked me to live at home while I was going to college, so I did, but when I graduated, I insisted on striking out on my own and she was supportive, but, well, there were problems and I went back. I didn’t intend to stay with her, but you know how that is.”
“
How what is?”
“
Best laid plans.”
“
I do know how that is.” He did know and he knew how painful reality could be. He smiled but thought it probably looked forced, so he dropped the attempt. He sat back abruptly as he realized the waitress had returned with his food.
“
Oh, wow. This looks good.” Fran picked up one half of the sandwich and blew on it lightly. “And hot.”
“
Now, what about you? Let’s talk about you for a change. I’m willing to bet that your life has been a lot more interesting than mine.” She bit into her sandwich like she was punctuating her sentence.
“
Me? Okay, fair is fair. I was married. We had a daughter. We divorced. She wanted the divorce, but in the end she did me a big favor.”
“
She has custody?”
“
Technically, we share custody.”
“
But she lives with her mom.”
“
My apartment is small. I’m not really set up for long term stays.” He chewed on his burger, seeing those lines between her eyes again. Knowing she wasn’t accepting or at least, not approving, his excuse.
“
When did you hurt your leg?”
“
After the divorce. Actually, so you know, we were in the middle of a fight over primary custody of Megan when it happened.” Maia had urged him to consider reconciling because Diane had changed her attitude. “We had a fight and I had a wreck. My rehab was long. Megan ended up with her mom.” After a pause, he ended with, “Since then, my life has been unsettled.”
She seemed to be savoring the second half of the sandwich, not wolfing it down like the first half, yet her eyes
stayed on his face as she listened. Big eyes. Eyes so dark blue, almost navy blue, almost black, yet the lights in them brought to mind the depths of the ocean when sunlight makes it through, pressing down through the deep water. Long lashes like…like he didn’t know what, but they gave her big, round eyes that should’ve looked innocent, a serious look. Mysterious. Yet, Fran was the least mysterious brunette he’d ever met. She was a puzzle, though, full of puzzling contradictions.
“
Life, huh? Nothing’s ever easy. And the easier it would seem to be, the messier it gets.”
“
Sorry. You lost me.”
“
Like me.” Fran pointed at herself. “I’ve had everything going for me my entire life, except for losing my dad, and yet I feel like I’m still waiting for it to start.”
“
Waiting for what to start?”
“
My life. I always have the sneaking suspicion that someone else, anyone else, would’ve done a better job with it.”
Brian shrugged.
“Maybe. But then it’s really about perspective, right? I mean, it’s about how you see it. Like the glass half-full, half-empty thing. Sometimes you have to find a better perspective to look at it from.”
“
Is that how it works for you?”
“
I do the best I can.”
Frannie closed her eyes and groaned. Opening them, she said,
“Sorry. I’m always saying the wrong thing.” She managed an embarrassed little chuckle. “Thank goodness this is just sharing food, and not a date.”
Brian asked,
“Not a date?”
She gave him a funny little smile and tilted her head as she asked,
“Is it? Is this a—”
“
Is this what?”
A feminine voice startled them, maybe him more than her, she thought, because Brian almost jumped to his feet before he gathered his cool and s
at back down.
The woman leaned against the upright post of the booth and laughed. Petite and blonde, she wore jeans so tight that Frannie hurt for her.
“Hello, Brian.” She waved her hand toward Frannie. “This is your new friend that Megan was telling me about?”
“
She’s my friend, yes.” He looked around. “Where’s Megan?”
“
Ladies room. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“
Fran, this is Diane.”
Frannie tried not to stare. There was something
a little past pretty about Diane—like a hard way of living that was about to eat away enough of her prettiness to age her, make her look worn. She blinked and looked away, and saw Megan as she came around the corner. Megan saw her mom and then saw who was seated in the booth. She did a quick stutter-step.
Diane put her arm around Megan
’s shoulders and pulled her in close. “Hey, Megan, say hello. Use your manners.”
Megan looked wooden. Or maybe sullen. Far from friendly.
“We’re on our way to do some shopping. We’ve got special plans. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”
Brian
’s face was turning dark. Frannie tried to break the tension.
“
You’ve got a lovely daughter, Diane. And smart.” She looked directly at Megan. “I hope you’ll come by soon so we can visit again.”
Diane ignored her.
“We have to be on our way now. Nice to meet you.” And they left.
Had Megan been upset to see them together? She wouldn
’t be the first kid to cherish the dream that her parents would get back together. She felt sad for Megan. If looks and behavior indicated anything at all, Brian was right—Diane had done him a favor by leaving him. It was sad that Megan was caught in the middle.
“
Sorry,” Brian said.
“
About what?” She was reluctant to assume. After all, it was possible he was sorry they’d been seen together.
“
Let’s drop it.” His good humor was gone. “Are you done?”
Apparently, the fun was spoiled all the way around. In a really sick way, she was more comfortable with that than with everything
going well. She was more comfortable with the half-empty glass.
“
No.” He said it so loud, it startled her.
“
No?”
“
She won’t win.” He hit the table, but gently. “We won’t let her spoil the day.”
A small electrical charge tickled her spine.
He’d found their time together good enough to be able to be spoiled. She asked, “What would you like to do?”
“
Let’s get out of here.”
At that moment, she thought she
’d follow him anywhere, but the feeling wouldn’t last. That was for sure.
“
If it was warmer I’d take you for a ride on my bike.” He looked like he was still considering it. “Come on.”
“
The bike—”
“
No, don’t worry. Follow me. We’ll drop the bike off at my place.”
He signaled the waitress and handed her some bills, told her to keep the change, then helped Fran on with her coat and hustled her out. She could already feel her feet dragging with doubt.
In the car, once again following in his wake, she started thinking of excuses to duck out on him. His energy seemed reckless. It made her uneasy. But also excited.
****
They left Morehead City and crossed the bridge back to the island. In an area along Atlantic Avenue where the live oaks grew thick and were entangled in masses of green growth more effective than a man-made privacy barrier, there were few houses to be seen, but only driveways, and they turned off onto one of them. It sloped up between the tall jungle-like hedges and emerged into an open area, landscaped to wintry perfection and complementing a large house.
He
’d said a small apartment, right? This place was substantial.
He
continued around the side. She followed and saw Will’s van parked next to a garage. A single story garage, but wide and deep. There were three wide garage doors and one of them lifted and Brian pulled his bike inside alongside a shiny, expensive looking SUV. As she drove around she saw the door and windows. His apartment was behind the garage.
She
’d planned to wait for him in her car, but instead she got out. The back yard was as private as the front, surrounded by wild hedges mixed with live oaks and pines. The house was buff-colored stucco with a slate patio. On the far side of the yard was a covered pool.
The house looked and felt
empty. Any outdoor furnishings were stowed away somewhere. The windows had a vacant feel.
“
I live in the garage apartment and keep an eye on things.”
“
It’s beautiful back here. Even this time of year. Absentee owners?”
“
Sure.”
She did a three-sixty, slow and appreciative.
“Very peaceful. Secluded.”
“
No one bothers me here.”
Sad, somehow. She looked at his light blue eyes and the lines around them. Sad, maybe, but he didn
’t look unhappy.
“
Would you like to come inside?”
Inside?
Instantly, her defenses flew up. She stepped away. “No, thanks.”
“
Hey, I didn’t mean anything. Relax.”
She
’d offended him. Maybe he hadn’t meant anything. She’d overreacted. “Sorry.”
He laughed.
“Don’t be. Wait here and I’ll get my other jacket. I don’t need this one if I’m not riding. It’s not that cold.”
She watched him go. Her feet were cold. She could
’ve gone inside. He wasn’t a monster. Not all men were. She shivered.
Frannie
walked up to the patio doors. With her hands cupped around her face, she could make out the dark forms of furniture, the occasional odd shape of a vase or a lamp, shadowed in the unlit interior. Uncle Will’s house might not be a match for this, but good things could also come in smaller packages. It only needed the right touch.
“
Boo.”
She jumped and spun and found herself in Brian
’s arms. Her reaction, the heart pounding and knees softening, were almost instantaneous and alarming. He tightened his arms, pulling her in close to his chest.
For one long breathless moment, they held that pose,
and then he smiled and slowly eased his arms away.
“
Steady?”
Steady? Was that
intended to steady her? “I’m fine.”
“
Glad to hear it.” He stepped back. “I have the key to the house. Would you like to take a look inside?”