Foolish Notions (23 page)

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Authors: Aris Whittier

BOOK: Foolish Notions
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“Is everything okay, Mr. Taylor?
I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you haven’t seemed
like yourself lately. Is your mom doing all right?”

“She’s doing as well as can
be expected.” He was going through the list of messages Shelly
had set on his desk. He held the dozen or so memos in the air. “Are
any of these urgent?”

“Nothing that can’t wait
until Monday.”

He tossed the blue pieces of paper on
his desk and looked up. He smiled for the first time that day. “I’m
fine, too. Go home to your husband and have a great weekend.”

“You try and do the same.”

“I will.” When he heard the
door click shut he stretched his arms over his head. The muscles in
his back felt like a mesh of tight cords. They protested against his
movement so he dropped them back to his sides. He needed his
recliner, an ice-cold beer, and the sports channel.

* * * * *

Samantha saw the headlights through the
bedroom window as James pulled into the drive. Her stomach fluttered
as she bent to tie her sneakers. She had been hoping to have been
gone by now. She looked at her watch; it was her turn to drive to
yoga class and she was running fifteen minutes late. Paul would
undoubtedly be worried about her if she didn’t get a move on
it. Taking the bag off the bed she left the room and went down the
hall. She looked in on Marie. “I’m going.”

Marie smiled over the book she was
reading. “Have a nice class, dear.”

“I will.” She set the gym
bag at the door and moved into the room. “James just pulled in,
so you won’t be alone.”

“Did you keep a plate warming?”

Samantha closed the blinds beside the
bed. “Yes, just as you requested.” She went into the
bathroom and turned out the light.

“The corn bread is wrapped in
foil in the oven and the chili is in the Crock-Pot on low.”
Before she set a little bottle of pills on the nightstand, she
emptied one into a clear cup. “If the pain gets too bad, take
one.”

Marie regarded the pills. “I’ll
be fine.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“If I take one of those I forget
who I am for a day.”

“That’s why you take them
at night.” She moved back to the bed and hugged Marie. “Now,
you’re going to be okay?”

“We already discussed this, this
morning. I’m fine.”

“Sleep tight.”

* * * * *

Marie wasn’t reading for more
than ten minutes before James walked in. “Hi.” He winced
as he bent down to kiss her.

Marie leaned forward to meet his kiss.
“You must have left early this morning.” She patted his
cheek. “I didn’t hear you get up.”

James didn’t look at his mom.
Instead he leaned against the wall because standing on his own was
too much effort. He crossed his legs at the ankles, and shifted his
weight to find a more comfortable position. His attempts were wasted.
Nothing was going to put him out of his misery.

“You look tired. Have you had a
busy day?”

“Very busy. We’re trying to
set everything up in Europe.”

“Will you have to go over there?”

“Possibly.” He reassured
her with a smile. “But not for a while yet. Deals like this
take time.” He would have to go when the merger was closed, but
until then he would send someone else, because he wasn’t going
to leave her. “How do you feel?”

“Good. I think I’m
regaining some of my strength,” she said brightly.

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah, but the next treatment is
going to knock me back down.”

His tone lightened. “But it’s
your last treatment. You’re almost done.”

“I know.” She looked toward
the door. “Did you see Samantha?”

He shook his head. “Why?”

“She just left for yoga class.”

“I guess I just missed her.”
It was probably more like she had purposely avoided him. “I
went into the office to check my messages before I came up. Why, is
something the matter? Do you need something?” He looked at the
array of different prescriptions beside her bed. He wouldn’t
have a clue about what to give her if she did need something.

“No, she just hasn’t seemed
like herself lately.” She tried to keep her look casual and not
too prying. “You wouldn’t know what’s the matter
with her, would you?”

“Mother.”

“Well, I just—”

“Mother,” he repeated. His
deep voice commanded that she stop.

“Oh, all right, I’ll keep
my nose out of it.” She waved her hand in the air.

“Thank you.”

“Have you eaten?” She
smiled when he shook his head.

“Samantha made a delicious
dinner. She’s kept everything warming for you. Wasn’t
that thoughtful of her?”

“Yeah, thoughtful. Do you need
anything before I go?”

“No. I’m going to read for
about twenty more minutes, then Wheel of Fortune is coming on.”
She shooed him away with her hand and picked up the book that was
folded open beside her.

“You go and get some dinner; I
need to finish this chapter.”

* * * * *

James polished off the last of his
chili and sipped his beer as he watched the ball game. He regarded
the half-full amber bottle in his hand. He would need about five more
to ease the pain he was feeling.

Motion to his left caused him to look
up. Samantha stood with her gym bag in one hand and the car keys in
the other. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a ponytail. She
looked as bad as he did. Their eyes met. “We need to talk.”

He took a long sip and then said,
“Don’t you think we did enough of that last night?”
Just seeing her rekindled what little pain he had been able to
suppress over the last few hours. He fought his building tension. “I
don’t want to do this again.” He closed his eyes, then
opened them. “I can’t. I know where you stand and how you
feel. Nothing more needs to be said.”

“No, you don’t.” Her
voice sounded small in the large room. “You don’t know
how I feel.”

Disbelief took over James’s
expression. His gut twisted into a tight knot. “You can’t
be serious. You may think I misinterpret things often but I got your
point last night.”

“I need to explain—”

“There’s nothing to
explain.” James muted the game and stared at her. All the hurt
he was feeling surfaced. Damn, he thought he had managed to get
control of it. Hadn’t he spent the last twenty-four hours
stuffing it inside of him? “I don’t want to talk.”

“But I need you to talk to me.
Please, James.”

“Do you really think that I’m
that type of man?” He shrugged his aching shoulders. “Did
I ever treat you like some possession that I wanted to acquire?”
He watched her for a moment. “Answer me. Did I ever treat you
that way?”

She shook her head as her lashes slowly
covered her eyes. “No, of course not.”

He slapped his hand on the arm of his
chair. “How can you compare what we had to other meaningless
and loveless relationships?” For a brief moment he forgot about
the pain, he forgot about everything, he remembered only what they
had shared. “We never just existed, Samantha. We lived. We
loved. Don’t twist what we had into something that it’s
not. What we shared was beautiful and magical, regardless of how it
ended.”

“You’re right.”

He didn’t speak for a few
minutes. “Do you mean it?”

She moved toward him. “Yes. What
we had was amazing.”

“Then what in the hell happened
last night?”

She sighed as she thought about it.
There was no plausible excuse for the way she behaved. “I said
those things last night because I was mad.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was mad at myself for wanting
you.” She linked her hands together. “I thought if I made
you out to be the bad guy then—”

“Then you wouldn’t want
me,” he added for her.

“Something like that.” She
moved to the couch, too weary to stand. “The things I said last
night were not only uncalled for, but untrue.” She shifted when
he didn’t answer. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you fighting this,
Samantha?”

“You know why.” She shook
her head quickly. “I don’t want to fight anymore and I
don’t want to say hurtful things. So, we’re not going to
talk about it.” Her fingers played with the hem of her baggy
sweatshirt. “I’m trying to deal with this the best way I
know how.”

“By not dealing with it at all?
You can’t ignore what we have, it’s too strong.” He
turned his entire body in the chair, because if he just turned his
neck he feared he would die from the pain. “If you would just
let me explain—”

“Stop.” She held up her
hand. “Please don’t say another word.” It took a
moment for her to put together what she wanted to say. “We’re
friends. I am here because I love Marie and I want to help her. I
want to help you, too. That’s all.” She got ready to
continue but then saw the way he was sitting—the odd way he was
looking at her. “Are you okay? You don’t have to look
like it’s the end of the world just because I said we’re
only friends.”

“My neck is killing me.”

“Your neck?” she said in
disbelief.

“Yes. And my shoulders, and my
back, and my head. Right now everything pretty much hurts.”

“Why didn’t you say
something?” She moved behind his chair and put her hands on his
neck. She felt the tight muscles and began to work them. “You’re
one giant knot.”

“If I turn my head too fast I
feel like I’m going to pass out.” He winced as she felt
around, assessing the damage. “I took some aspirin but it
hasn’t touched it.”

“You know, yoga could take care
of this.” Her fingers found their way to his temples, where she
applied gentle pressure, using a circular motion that was amazingly
effective.

“I’m not getting down on
the floor and contorting myself into some crazy position that my body
shouldn’t be in in the first place.”

“Well, that crazy position would
relieve this tension.”

James rested his head against the back
of the chair and let out a long breath. “You seem to be
relieving it just fine.”

She allowed herself to smile. “You’re
lucky that I’m not as demanding as my yoga instructor.”

“Yes, I’m sure Paul worked
his magic on you tonight.” His voice was a calm mask of
disgust.

Samantha used her thumb and dug into
the muscles that covered his shoulder blade. She held the pressure
for a very long moment. “As a matter of fact he did.”

Yeah, James was sure the jerk had his
hands all over her when he was doing it, too. “Is that why
class ran late tonight?”

“Are you timing me?”

“Not exactly,” he said
seriously.

“I had to run by my place.”

“I don’t like him.”

“I do.”

“Why? He’s not your type,”
His voice was scornful.

“How do you know what my type
is?”

“I just know.” He couldn’t
take the pressure any more.

“Okay, ease up.”

She reduced the pressure. “At
least I’m able to walk upright. A chiropractic adjustment
would—”

“Don’t even go there,
Samantha.”

“Fine.” She brought her
hands to his neck. “That hot tub of yours, which hasn’t
seen the light of day, might help, too.”

“It might,” he agreed. “Are
you going to get in with me?”

“Not likely.”

James sunk a little farther down in the
seat and closed his eyes. “I’ll pass then. Besides, I’ve
got a full belly, a beer, a ball game, and one hell of a masseuse.”
He raised the remote and pressed the mute button filling the room
with the voices of two over exuberant commentators. “What more
could a man ask for?”

* * * * *

Samantha watched the game for a few
moments, allowing herself time to relax and regroup. The drive home
from class had been pure torture because she hadn’t been sure
what was going to happen when she got home. She was almost positive
her antics had put her job in jeopardy and she was just as certain
they would surely destroy the feeble relationship she and James had.
When she had walked through the door and had not seen her bags, she’d
felt a glimmer of hope.

“We’re all right?”
she asked, now.

Samantha was surprised when James
raised his hands and placed them over hers. Suddenly, he reached over
and pulled her over the chair and into his lap. She landed with a
thump, her face inches from his.

“I want a confession first,”
he said as he cradled her to him.

She brushed the hair from her face and
studied the warm darkness of his eyes. They reflected power and
control. “What do you want me to confess to?”

“I want you to admit you can’t
ignore what’s here.” He moved his hand in the small space
between them.

It would be a miracle if she could tune
out what was between them, she thought. If she could find a way to
eliminate and dispose of all the emotions, which seemed to fall in
the category of passion, living with him would be tolerable. His
request wasn’t unreasonable, and after the way she behaved the
question seemed meager, so she answered him. “If I could ignore
it, do you think we would be going through any of this?”

“You know it’s there.”
His reply wasn’t a question, but a conformation.

The look in his eyes prevented words,
so she nodded.

He touched the tip of her nose with two
fingers, then her lips, even though he really wanted to kiss her. He
studied her beautiful face briefly, and then suddenly tossed her back
over his shoulder in one silent fluid movement. Taking each of her
hands, he rested them on his shoulders, precisely where they had been
only moments before. “There’s ten minutes left in the
fourth. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”

Chapter Eighteen

James found Samantha stuffing dirty
clothes into the washer in the laundry room. He waited until she was
finished measuring the detergent before he spoke. “Hi.”

“How’s your neck feeling?”
she said as she bent down and pulled clothes out of the dryer.

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