False Impressions (27 page)
Authors: Terri Thayer
But she didn’t know what his views on the institution were.
“Did you ever come close to getting married before?”
“Once,” he sighed.
April’s heart stopped. Silly, unrealistic for a man in his thirties, but that wasn’t the answer she was hoping for.
“Well, twice,” he said.
Her heart sunk even lower. She glared at him. “What?”
“Melody Kingston asked me to marry her in second grade. There were Twinkies involved, if I remember correctly.”
She slapped his arm. “Get serious.”
He moved closer. His eyes were softened around the edges as if filling with tears. The wrinkles across his brow met in a deep V in the middle.
He let his grin fade. “I came close. My college girlfriend. We dated senior year and several years after. The time never seemed right. I wasn’t ready. She broke up with me when I didn’t deliver a ring one Christmas. I didn’t know what I was waiting for until I met you.”
April burst into tears. Mitch took a step back, surprised.
She buried her face in her hands. “I’ve ruined everything. I did it all wrong. Got married too young, stayed with him too long. Now you’re ready and I’m not.”
Mitch rubbed her back, waiting for her to finish before taking her face in his strong hands. One thumb caught a stray tear and brushed it away.
April caught her breath. Mitch didn’t speak until she was looking into his eyes.
“I’ll wait for you,” he said.
His simple words delivered a jolt of electricity. She flung herself into his arms and smothered him with kisses.
She broke off and looked at him. “This doesn’t mean I’m not renting a place of my own,” she said. “Or that I ever want to see myself on the local news again.”
He kissed her to stop her talking. She opened her mouth to his, catching his essence and savoring it. She was grateful he was still holding her. Her legs wouldn’t have held her up anyhow.
“No one’s home, right?” he whispered, his voice husky.
She heard the desire and felt herself turn to jelly. She nodded.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then let’s build a fire and enjoy it.”
The Campbells’ oversize furniture took up most of the living space. They pushed back the couch and moved a heavy coffee table out of the way and brought some pillows onto the floor. Mitch lit the fire. April poured wine. She turned out most of the lights, just leaving a small light on in the kitchen behind them.
They settled on the floor. They watched the flames lick at each other.
Mitch spoke first after they clinked glasses. “I never should have surprised you. I got caught up in the planning without really thinking about how you’d react. I had my fantasy.”
“Fantasy’s not a bad thing.” She lifted her face to his and kissed him. They started slowly, savoring the sweetness between them. Things heated up quickly. April felt the fire on her back and heard the crackling. The taste of wine in Mitch’s mouth was sweet and fruity. She closed her eyes and sunk into Mitch’s embrace, lost in the sensations.
Much later, Mitch was stoking the fire that they’d let go out when the barn door opened with a large crack. April shot up, standing before she realized it. Mitch was airborne, too, nearly tripping over her. He stepped in front of her as if to protect her. A blast of cold air assaulted them.
“Who is it?” April croaked, her heart pounding. The light switch in the kitchen was flipped on. April and Mitch covered their eyes.
It was a warring Grizz and Charlotte.
“Dang blessed. We didn’t have to get towed,” he was saying. “I could have gotten it started.”
“Good thing Scott came along when he did or else Vince would have found us next spring thaw,” Charlotte fussed. She followed him in, carrying the cooler. It had to be a lot less heavy than it had been that morning, but Charlotte acted as if it were still full.
Grizz rubbed his face repeatedly. His other hand worried his scalp. His step was heavy as he moved slowly into the kitchen. Charlotte missed the table putting down the cooler. It landed on the floor. Grizz ignored her. He pushed the door closed behind her.
“Leave it,” he grunted at his wife. April could hear the fatigue in his voice.
“What happened?” April asked.
Their heads spun to the darkened living room. Charlotte held a hand over her heart. “Oh look, Grizz, the kids are up.”
April blushed. She twisted her shirt back around so she was wearing it facing front. She pulled her sweater over it. Mitch stood behind her. She heard the snaps on his fly connect. Each one sounded like a rifle shot to her.
“Where have you been?” April turned on the floor lamp. “Did you change your mind and decide to drive home tonight?”
Charlotte shook her head. Grizz frowned at the out-of-position couch and the pile of pillows on the floor as though trying to figure out how they had gotten there. He took off his shoes and got up to poke at the fire, muttering about wet wood.
April picked up the cooler from the floor and emptied the garbage out of it, mostly waxed paper that Charlotte had used to wrap their sandwiches and cookies. She rinsed the thermos, keeping an eye on Charlotte, who hovered nearby. She didn’t like her color.
“Sit, please,” April said.
Grizz had settled in his recliner without taking off his coat. Mitch scooped up pillows and returned the cushions to their rightful place.
Charlotte sat in her armchair, wrapping herself in one of her afghans. Her cheeks looked raw. “We needed gas. We got off the highway, but we couldn’t find the place Grizz remembered. We made a wrong turn and had to detour because roads were closed with drifting snow.”
She glanced at her husband. April could fill in the rest. Old man not prone to taking advice. Lonely roads. Blowing snow. Mitch looked at her and shook his head.
“The car just died. Finally, a young fellow on his way home from work stopped and called a tow truck for us. He brought us here. The car’s stuck up there.”
April looked at Mitch, whose face was grave. This could have ended badly. He reached out and rubbed her back, acknowledging her concern.
“When? Were you coming back from Scranton?”
Charlotte shook her head. “On our way up there.”
“You were stuck in the car all day?”
Grizz grunted. Charlotte nodded and closed her eyes.
Mitch squeezed her arm. “Well, they’re home now.”
April decided he was right. False cheer was the way to go. These two didn’t need anyone blaming them for their misadventure. “That’s what counts. Are you warm enough?”
April went to Charlotte and put another blanket from the back of the couch over her legs. She knelt and rubbed the old woman’s hands. They were freezing. “Are you okay?”
“Just tired,” she said, eyes closing.
“Going to bed,” Grizz said. With another loud sigh, he began taking off his belt. April knew the rest of his clothes would soon follow.
She’d have Dr. Wysocki stop by and check on them first thing in the morning. For now they needed rest. April turned the heat up and heard the furnace kick in. Of course that meant her loft would be unbearably hot within minutes.
Mitch read her mind. “You can stay at my place,” Mitch whispered, steering April toward the door. “I just did laundry. You’ve got a change of clothes at my place.” He grabbed her heavy coat from the closet. She picked up her purse and keys. She looked back at the couple, feeling a slight catch in her throat. She was so glad nothing had happened to them.
“Do you think they’ll be all right?” she said.
Mitch looked around the loft. “Sure. I stoked the fire so it’ll burn out. The flue is clear. They just need to rest.”
“But . . .” April turned. “They’ve been through such an ordeal.”
“All the more reason we let them get the sleep they need. Listen,” Mitch said.
Both of them were already snoring. “You’re right.”
April tucked the blanket around Charlotte’s feet and made sure Grizz had another blanket within easy reach. She turned off the floor lamp and turned on the light over the stove for a night light.
She and Mitch tiptoed out. They bypassed the big door and went through the kitchen, closing the door gently.
“Wake up,” Mitch said in her ear. April opened one eye. Her
face felt plastered to the pillow, and she wondered if she’d been drooling. She wiped her mouth surreptitiously. She had been deep in a dream that had vanished but left her feeling good. Or maybe it was Mitch’s ministrations to her before they fell asleep that were responsible for the endorphins still in her system.
face felt plastered to the pillow, and she wondered if she’d been drooling. She wiped her mouth surreptitiously. She had been deep in a dream that had vanished but left her feeling good. Or maybe it was Mitch’s ministrations to her before they fell asleep that were responsible for the endorphins still in her system.
She slapped playfully in his direction, hitting only empty mattress. “Leave me alone, you sexy beast. I need some rest.” She pulled the covers higher, reveling in the comfort of his warm bed. She never wanted to leave.
“April.”
She lifted her head, hearing something in his voice that turned her stomach to cold stone. It wasn’t morning yet. Her concerns about the Campbells came flooding back.
“The fire chief called.” Mitch’s face was grave.
“Is there a fire?” she asked, sitting up. She tried to remember if she’d heard sirens in the night. Mitch didn’t answer her right away.
Mitch threw a Pendleton wool blanket around her bare shoulders, pulling it tight under her neck. He looked into her eyes. She saw compassion in his that frightened her, made tears spring forward. Her entire body shuddered as if trying to rid itself of the fear that possessed her.
“The barn,” he said.
She wrestled from his grasp. “The barn. No way. That place has been standing for the last hundred and fifty years. No way.”
“Chief Islington called, looking for you.”
She rooted around, looking for her clothes. Mitch grabbed a pile of clothes and handed them to her. She noticed he was dressed already.
She stepped into her underwear. “We never should have left the fireplace . . .” she stuttered.
Mitch pulled her close. “We didn’t do this. It was an explosion.”
That made no sense. She pulled back. She saw something else in his face. Something that spoke to a deeper tragedy.
“Grizz?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Charlotte?” The sight of them tucked under a homemade afghan crossed her eyes. She shut them, but the picture wouldn’t go away. She looked at Mitch.
Mitch nodded. His handsome face was marred by a solemn reserve. “Chief said no one could have gotten out. That’s why he called, to see who was at home. Your car was the only one in the driveway. The barn is burning now, fully engulfed, he said.”
April bit her hand. A tiny noise leaked out of the side of her fist. More like a squeak but it hurt as if it had been torn out of her throat. “Why? How?”
“No one knows yet. Gas leak, maybe? Neighbors said it sounded like a bomb going off.”
“Charlotte hated that gas stove . . .” April couldn’t form complete sentences. “Do you think she started cooking? I bet she was making cinammon buns. Even after the ordeal they went through yesterday, she’d be up early . . .”
She buried her face in his shoulder. “Is the chief sure?”
“I asked him that, too,” he said. “There was no sign that anyone got out.”
“Come on,” Mitch said gently. “Let’s go over there.” He handed her her coat.
The scarf Charlotte had made for her was hanging around the collar of her coat. She sobbed when her fingers touched it.
Tears streamed down her face. “I’ve got to call Vince.”
Mitch nodded. April sat heavily at his kitchen table. She rubbed the surface. So much like the one in the barn that he’d made for Vince and Ed before she’d come home. Now it was gone.
He handed her his portable phone. “I dialed. Just push talk if you’re ready. Or you could wait until we know more.”
She grabbed for his free hand, squeezing. He took the pain. She knew he could handle sharing her burden, and that knowledge gave her back her voice.
“I’m going to call now,” she said.
The phone rang. She pictured her father and Vince sleeping in their Florida time-share, filled with bamboo furniture and brightly colored paintings. The opposite of the dark, dreary landscape outside.
After several rings, a sleepy Vince answered.
“It’s April.”
She heard him take in a quick breath. “What’s happened?”
Calls at this hour were never good. April went on. “There’s been an explosion at the barn. It’s gone. I wasn’t home, but your parents were.”
Vince was a volunteer fireman. He knew better than April what an explosion could do. He groaned. She could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to take in what she’d said.
Ed came on the line. “April? Tell me. Vince can’t speak.”
She filled her father in. “Mitch and I are heading over there now. I’ll call when I have more details.”
She knew her father. He wanted to get off the phone to comfort Vince. She let him go.
CHAPTER 19
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