Be Sweet (24 page)

“Maybe now is not the time to talk about it?”

Well, actually, no. I'm kind of busy.

“Char!”

Janni's voice slices through the air, and I whip around with a start. The sap is overboiling and the stench of scorching syrup starts to fill the air.

“Oh, Peter, I'm sorry. I have to go. I'll call you later.” Hurriedly, I click off my cell phone. All of us scurry about the Sugar Shack, trying to get the temperature down and get things back to normal.

By the time we finish, we're all exhausted, and the day's a total waste. I ruined all that sap, and forever lost the title of being the best gauge-watcher- person.

“Don't give it another thought, Char. Those things happen. We've done it before.” Janni lifts the spaghetti from the strainer and puts it in the serving bowl with a bit of olive oil.

“Yeah, but I knew better than that. I've always prided myself on doing a good job where that's concerned.” Pouring the thick homemade spaghetti sauce with chunks of meat and mushrooms into the serving bowl, I take a deep whiff. It eases my sour mood somewhat.

“We'll survive. Though we may have to cut down your supply.” Janni pulls the crisp garlic bread from the oven, brushes butter over the top, and slices it into pieces before placing it in a basket with a towel to keep in the warmth.

“That's fair.” I glance around the table to make sure there are enough settings.

“I'm only kidding. We all share in the work and in the bounty. You'll get the same as everyone else.” Janni carefully places the silverware around each setting, and I pour iced tea in the glasses.

“What happened anyway? Important phone call?”

I explain about the call and how Peter's voice and comments made me nervous.

“I knew this would happen.”

“What?”

“That Peter would either move on because he can't make a commitment, or that he would confront you and you would be faced with a decision.”

“I like Peter, but we're just friends.”

“I could be wrong, but it looks to me as though he sees it as more than that.”

“Maybe.”

“Time to eat,” Janni calls out from the kitchen entrance.

Mom, Dad, Daniel, and Stephanie come and join us. The front door clicks open.

“Am I too late?” The tip of Russ's boots appear before he does. I'd know those boots anywhere. My heart somersaults.

“You're right on time,” Janni says. She whispers to me on her way to the sink, “I forgot to tell you Daniel invited him for dinner.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.” I primp my hair, but realize it's too late. Now I'll have to wash my hands again.

Daniel and Russ help Dad get situated, while everyone else settles into their seats. Before Dad prays for our meal, I dash up the stairs, brush on some blush, and spruce up my hair. Not wanting to blatantly announce that I spruced up for Russ, I dab on a slight trace of lipstick then head downstairs.

Amid the clatter of silverware, jostling ice against glass, and chairs scooting against the hardwood floor, everyone laughs about how I ruined the syrup today. For an instant I consider going back upstairs. Until Russ's gaze meets mine. An empty chair waits beside him. He winks and motions for me to come over. He doesn't have to tell me twice.

With a stiff upper lip, I try to take the bantering good-naturedly, but if they're not careful, I could turn on them.

After the hubbub dies down, Dad looks across the table at me and says, “Well, I still say you're the best at the gauge, Zip.”

I love my Dad. They've obviously already prayed for the meal, so I bow my head and say a quick prayer.

“You always were a softy where those girls are concerned,” Mom says before biting into her garlic bread.

“Hey, remember that time you tried to bake a cake for Mom years ago when she passed her real-estate exam?” Dad says with a chuckle.

Janni laughs. “Yeah, you put too much baking powder in the cake or something and it overflowed. Almost burned the house down. Set off the fire alarms. It was hilarious.”

“We had to open every window in the house,” Mom says with a chuckle. “But it was sweet that you went to the trouble for me.” Mom's little burst of tenderness catches me off-guard and takes the edge off my humiliation.

“That's right. It's the thought that counts, and Zip here went through a lot of trouble for her mom that day,” Dad says.

“Yeah, and I never did a thing with that real estate license. But look at you, selling big homes,” Mom says.

“Well, I'm not actually selling homes. Remember? I work in com-mercial real estate these days.”

Mom waves her hand. “Oh, I don't understand all that stuff now. It's been too long.”

The conversation moves on, and Russ talks to me in hushed tones. “Work has been crazy for the past couple of days.”

“A surge of cavities, huh?” I tease.

He laughs. “Don't know if Daniel told you I called, but I did check on your dad.”

“Thank you for that,” I say, wondering why he didn't talk to me about it.

“I had a good talk with myself about moving too fast with you, so that's why I didn't call you about it.”

His comment causes me to choke. Seems I do that a lot—especially when Russ is around.

“You okay?” He asks while he whaps me between the shoulder blades.

“Yeah.” I reach for my iced tea and take a drink.

“Anyway, I'll try to be patient.” He reaches for a piece of garlic bread and flashes a wide grin. “We need to work on my house plans some more.” He looks me in the eyes. “Well, when you have time.”

Oh, I have time for you, baby. Wait! Did I say that out loud?

A gasp lodges in my throat.

“Still choked?” he asks, raising his hand to whap my back again.

“No, no, I'm fine.” It's true. I am fine. And looking at his blue eyes right now, I decide I've never been more fine. Really fine.

twenty-one

“Okay if I put on some old records?” Janni asks
after dinner while Russ and I work side by side on the sofa, sketching out his dream home. Daniel and Stephanie step into the room and join us.

“Sure,” I say, feathering my pencil across the paper as I draw up the space for the master bedroom.

“I'm glad you're here, Charley,” Russ whispers into my hair, stopping my pulse.

Thoughts of Peter flash through my mind—though I must say his face is a little blurry—and I realize I have to deal with all of this, but for now I just want to enjoy my time with my family and, well, Russ Benson.

“So you say you want a balcony off the master bedroom?”

He grins and nods.

“I take it you have a lot with a view?”

He nods again. “Near the lakeshore.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Wow, that's nice.”

“Yeah, I've been keeping my eye on that lot. Dad knew the guy was thinking of selling, so I asked him to let me know when he decided to do it. He did, and I bought it the day it became available. Never even made it to a Realtor. Sorry.”

“Hey, whatever works.” I smile. “So you're definitely building.” Okay, my ego deflates a tad here. I thought he was using this whole building thing as a means to spend time with me.

He gives me a “well, duh” look and says, “That would explain the drawing.”

“Oh, yeah, the drawing.”

His eyes crinkle with amusement, and now my ego surfaces with the idea that he trusts me with so great a project. Time to get serious about the sketching.

“I'll take you over to the see the lot sometime.”

“I'd like that.” Clearing my throat, I break free from his gaze. “Okay, so, a balcony off your master bedroom overlooking the lake?”

“Probably sounds crazy because most people want to see the lake from the front of their house, but when I'm in the front of the house, I'm usually busy and wouldn't notice the lake anyway. When I'm in the bedroom, I have time to relax and enjoy.”

His words melt over me like syrup on hotcakes, and I give an in-voluntary shiver. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I thought a patio out back with a view of the lake would be good too.”

“Good idea.” My pencil sweeps across the page as he explains his ideas, and I try to get them in tangible form. “So you like the open floor plan, right?”

“Yeah.” He rubs his chin. “How about a small porch on the front?”

“Sounds good.” More pencil strokes. “With pillars and white picket-type rails.”

“I'll leave that stuff to you. All I know is I want spacious and a balcony with a view.”

“This will be great, Russ.” I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed drawing up house plans and working on general real estate.

“Thanks.” He squeezes my arm, I suppose, from the sheer excite-ment of getting a new place.

“How about you and Russ pick out some songs you like,” Janni says, handing us the stack of records. She pulls out her Sudoku puzzle magazine.

Placing my sketchbook aside, Russ and I finger through the records, picking a variety from Chicago, Jackson 5, Donny Osmond, Carpenters, and other oldies-but-goodies.

Seeing Janni engrossed in her Sudoku, I start to get up.

“Let me put those on for you.” Russ walks over and starts the first record.

The minute the music to “Sugar, Sugar” starts playing, my mind zips back to the school rec room where a bunch of us girls met before the school bell rang the start of a new day. We'd play records from the jukebox and sing along. This was one of the songs we played over and over. Even worked out a few choreographic steps, if I remember right. A sliver of bravery comes over me, so I get up and sway with the music. Reverting to my junior-high days, I throw in some arm thrusts, twirls, and leg kicks, causing Janni to look up in surprise. Russ joins the fun and soon punches the air with his fists in awkward movements that make me laugh so hard I'm afraid I'll join Janni with the hyena thing.

When we finish, everyone claps. Then Daniel gets up and pulls out the Three Dog Night song “Joy to the World.” Okay, Russ may not be Fred Astaire, but Daniel's movements remind me of Baloo in
Jungle
Book
.

Next, Stephanie picks out a song and plays it. The opening line of Helen Reddy singing “You and Me Against the World” squeezes my heart. Tears fill Steph's eyes, but she smiles, so I doubt anyone even notices but me. Tears sting the backs of my own eyes and threaten to spill over.

Stephanie wants a relationship with Janni so desperately. I can only imagine how it would feel to have a child love me that way. She's afraid telling Janni will change everything, and she won't get a chance to truly get to know her biological mother. But Stephanie needs to know the truth so she can move on in her search.

After the record fun, Janni points out that Wiggles hasn't been out of his cage all day.

“Oh no, I'm outta here.” I make a beeline for the living room.

“Don't be such a wimp, Char. Sit down. Wiggles needs to get to know you. He won't hurt you if you're sitting in a chair. Just don't move.”

“Oh, fun.”

“Come on, Charley,” Russ says, flashing his infamous grin. “Wiggles doesn't know me either. Sit by me, I'll protect you.”

Okay, I'm liking the sound of that.

Daniel laughs, walks over to Wiggles's cage and opens the door. The curious squirrel hops off his perch onto the door of his cage, then takes the next step to freedom.

With skittish movements, he ambles over to Daniel and jumps up on the ottoman in front of him. “We know what you want.” Daniel reaches down beside his chair and pulls out a sack full of sunflower seeds. Pouring some into his hand, Daniel feeds Wiggles one seed at a time. Sitting on his hind legs, the squirrel splits the shells off, then nibbles away at the meat of the seed.

“Well, will you look at that,” Russ says. “It's amazing to me that he doesn't try to get away. You know, with the call of nature in his blood, you'd think his natural instinct would be to escape outside.”

“Why should he? He has everything he needs right here, and he's protected,” Janni says.

“Still, it's not his true home.”

Russ's words zing me. All this talk about home makes me want to watch
The Wizard of Oz
.

Over the next half hour, Wiggles entertains us with his little antics, but I'm relieved when Janni finally puts him back in his cage.

“I'm surprised he goes so willingly,” I say, watching the squirrel run back to his cage at Janni's insistence, hop on his perch, and crack open another sunflower seed.

“As I said, it's his safe place.”

Which would explain why I want to stay in Maine.

Russ turns to me. “Hey, want to run with me to the coffee shop?”

“Is it still open?”

“It's only ten o'clock. They're open for another hour.”

“You don't have to ask me twice.” I grab my coat and drape it over my arm as we head for the door.

“That was fun. I haven't exercised that much in
years,” Russ says, sliding into the leather driver's seat in his Lexus. One look at his firm self makes me question the truth of his statement.

“Yeah, it was fun.” Flipping the visor down, I turn on the makeup mirror light and adjust my makeup. I'm surprised I have the nerve, but one look at my face tells me I've done the right thing.

“You don't need that stuff. You look beautiful just the way you are,” he says.

“Please don't tell me your last eye exam was in 1982.” My ego is hanging by a thread.

“Nope. Just had an eye exam six months ago.”

“Works for me.” I brush on a dab of lipstick and flip the visor back in place. Russ's laugh warms me clear through.

“It's great to be back home. The military was good to my wife and me, and we loved the travel, but my heart was always here. Guess I'm a small-town kind of guy.”