Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 02 - Inn the Doghouse (3 page)

Liar.
“Whatever. You are
exactly
his type.”

“DeWayne’s a great guy and a good friend,” she admitted before promptly changing the subject. “Remember how much fun we had in high school when people didn’t know who we were? Especially when we switched classes. I’m enjoying myself. I want to take you to town and buy us identical outfits tomorrow morning.”

I snorted. “Couldn’t be any worse than having my own son not recognize me.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t cool.”

I looked around the room at the guests. “Look at all these people—all the lives our parents have touched.”

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Liz sounded wistful. “It’s hard to imagine that many decades of being married to the same person.”

I would have been married for—
Oh, no!
I was definitely not going there
. Tonight was a celebration of my parents’ marriage, not a time to mourn the premature ending of my own.

Sensing my pain, Liz looked over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m going to the cemetery next Thursday. It’s the anniversary of when Robert…” My voice faded and I closed my eyes. As my sister took my hand, I sighed and said, “I’ll either ask Jennifer to bring Zach out afterward, or just go back and get him. That way, I can center myself a little before he arrives. But I could really use some moral support when I go.” Jennifer was Paul’s wife.

“Of course, honey. I’ll need to check my court schedule, but I’ll go with you if I can. What time?”

“About ten in the morning.”

A man standing by the outer door caught my eye. He was at least six feet tall, dark-haired, and dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. He was facing away from me. From the back, however, at first glance, he looked like Gene.

Liz’s husband showed up?

Liz must have heard my slight gasp. “What?”

“Gene is here!”

Her eyes darted immediately toward where I motioned, while I prayed he wouldn’t cause any problems with Liz during the party. Or she with him.

“No.” Liz shook her head and turned back to me. “It’s just Lamont.”

“Really?” As the man turned to face us, I could see she was right. It was definitely Lamont Williams, Gene’s cousin and former partner in the real estate business.

“I can’t tell the three of them apart,” I said, referring to Gene, his brother, Jeff, and their cousin, Lamont, who was also Gene’s business partner until they amicably split the business last year and separated the two offices. The three of them shared an uncanny family resemblance, but Jeff and Gene had brown eyes, while Lamont’s were blue.

Gene and Lamont roomed together at the University of Utah and played on the football team. Best friends as well as cousins, they double-dated with their wives regularly, although I suspected Liz would be excluded from their future get-togethers. “You’re right. They have similar athletic builds, so seeing him from the back I thought…”

Lamont headed for the end of the line as Liz said, “Gene wouldn’t be caught dead wearing jeans. He only shops at the most exclusive designer shops. That made having his wallet stolen a year ago extra hard on him: he couldn’t buy pretty clothes for a few days until the new credit cards were made up.”

“Whatever came of that, anyway? Did they find out who stole it?”

“No. But it was a royal hassle for Gene to get a new license and duplicates of everything he needed.”

“Do the four of you still get together?”

Liz shook her head. “I’m never invited. Lamont’s wife left him about a year ago to go back east and live with her family, but then moved back in with him a month or so later. I never knew what caused that rift.”

“Oh, I didn’t hear that. I hate to see any marriage come to an end.” I shook my head. “I guess if I could so easily mistake two cousins, I should stop getting so irritated when people mistake us.”

“We do happen to be identical twins with the same haircut. Enjoy, Red.”

“Liz! Vicki! It’s so good to see you!” Liz and I both turned to find another high school friend, Tiffany Marrett, closing in.

She hugged me and said, “Liz, it’s been forever.”

Then she hugged Liz and said, “And Vicki, you look
fabulous
.”

She sounded so surprised, I wanted to smack her; but Liz just grinned and winked at me, not wanting to correct our friend’s mistake. Our old
caught-a-fish
game, where we would see how long we could go without a person realizing they were talking to the wrong twin.

Liz may have been enjoying herself, but I was definitely irritated.

The haircut was unquestionably a mistake.

~ ~ ~

Thirty minutes later, Liz excused herself to go to the bathroom, and I joined Paul, Jennifer, and DeWayne, who was holding the newest member of Paul’s family, adorable, little, one-month-old Amber.

“Ah, I fondly remember just last month, when you thought you were having a son,” I teased my brother. “Guess you guys will have to have a fourth child, hoping for a boy.”

Paul smirked. “I’ve decided I love my family of beautiful girls. Four, including their beautiful mother.”

“Aw, thanks, sweetie. Especially about not having any more children.” Jennifer put an arm around him and smiled sweetly. “If you’d answered differently, I might have had to do serious damage to your handsome face.”

He laughed. “Beautiful inside and out, I might add.”

It was fun watching DeWayne make faces and coo. I always thought he’d make a good daddy. I wondered why he never married. Well, actually, I knew why. Lack of Liz. But surely, he couldn’t wait forever for my sister.

Here he was, the same age as Liz and I, twenty-seven. Reasonably attractive. Good job as a Silver City policeman. And a genuinely nice man.

It really was time DeWayne found a good woman and settled down. I hated to see Liz getting divorced, but since Gene cheated and they were going through with it, I hoped it would at least end up being blessings in disguise. If they did divorce, I would love to see Liz and DeWayne end up together.

Crystal Maynard—a high school acquaintance I hadn’t seen for several years—was headed our way with an adorable little girl in tow.

When she reached our table, she asked sweetly, “Do you mind if my daughter and I join you?” and we all said collectively, of course we didn’t mind.

DeWayne glanced up at her, and I noticed how his gaze lingered. I couldn’t blame him. Her cleavage was on display and her slender thighs were advertised by a black miniskirt. She looked paler than in high school, but as a single mom, myself, I knew jobs often took tanning time away.

When we graduated from high school, Crystal left town, without looking back, according to the gossip at the Round Table in the Moose Muffin Café. Then last month, I heard she was back in town—divorced with a small child in tow. Now here she was, sitting at our table, and obviously still a firm believer in the if-you’ve-got-it-flaunt-it
philosophy.

She wasn’t exactly the kind of good woman I had in mind for DeWayne, but it only took a matter of seconds for me to realize that Crystal had designs on him. DeWayne Smith, police officer and all-around nice guy. When she smiled at him, it was impossible to miss the flirtatious look on her face. She may have courteously said hello to all of us, but after that, her eyes were fastened on DeWayne. She sat next to him, pulling her little daughter onto her lap.

DeWayne was the quiet type, and I’d known him long enough to know how shy he was. Having gone to high school with us, Crystal knew him well, too. She also apparently knew that when speaking to DeWayne, you had to hold up your end of the conversation. She went on about being back in town after her divorce, and her daddy getting a job for her at the Moose Muffin Café.

My sister-in-law, Jennifer, asked about the little girl.

“This is Emily,” Crystal said with a proud smile that softened me a little toward her. Her daughter couldn’t be more than four, and her hair was neatly arranged in fancy curls. She wore pink from head to toe, while her mother wore black, and they were both beautiful. “I tried to talk her into watching the movie, but she wanted to stay with me.”

The younger children were being entertained in the primary room with a movie, with some young women keeping watch.

“Hi, Emily. You’re a cutie,” Jennifer said and the girl shyly leaned into her mother. Looking at Crystal, Jennifer said, “Our girls are watching it.
Parent Trap
is one of their favorites.”

“The original?” asked Crystal. “Or the Dennis Quaid remake?”

“Original,” I said. “Always the best version.”

Crystal smiled. “It was such a silly movie, but I loved them whacking the sticks. And I bet you two loved all the twin stuff.”

“Like refusing to say which twin they were,” Liz said. “Yup.”

Jennifer nodded. “My favorite part was the honey on the toes.”

“And that silly, silly song.” I glanced around the room to keep track of my son. He was sitting at another table with two cousins and David Weston—one of the two guys recently showing some interest in me. In front of Zach was a plate heaped high with brownies and cookies, as well as a glass of punch to wash them down.

Fairly new to Silver City, David Weston was a hotshot reporter working for the small-time
Silver City Sentinel
. He seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time at my Who-Dun-Him Inn, even considering his current moonlighting gig as my interim chef.

As if sensing my gaze, David looked up and caught my eye, smiling lazily.

My insides tingled and I couldn’t help smiling back.

After a long pause and a wink, he turned to the boys, and soon, the four of them were laughing. I wondered if Zach was sharing his silly, seven-year-old jokes with them.

Lonny Singer—David’s younger competition—joined us, pulling up a chair beside me. I tried to ignore David’s intense glare at Lonny. David shifted in his chair, still staring at Lonny while he talked with the boys.

A long-time friend of our family, and a few years younger than I, Lonny used to follow me around my family’s Ross Mansion, which was now my Who-Dun-Him Inn. He often dragged his teddy bear behind him, but proved to be an attractive and steady man last month when we had a murderer snowed in with us during the worst blizzard in twenty years. He grew into something of a teddy bear, himself—a handsome, muscular, warmhearted teddy bear, who tacitly invited you to cuddle up next to him for security.

Keeping his gaze on Lonny, David was the opposite of a teddy bear. He was a nice guy, too, but there was an intangible danger of the unknown about him. David was more tiger than teddy.

I wasn’t quite sure how to handle either a teddy
or
a tiger, having become pretty rusty at the whole male/female thing.

Paul reached out to take his baby back from DeWayne. It was fun watching my brother be a good daddy, too.

“You weren’t nearly so kind and gentle with Liz and me,” I commented, watching David stand up and turn toward me. I looked back at Paul.

“Heck, no,” Lonny said. “I remember them telling me about the time you tied them up and threatened to burn them at the stake.”

Paul cooed at his baby, his third child after Trisha and Amy, and said, in baby talk, “And I would have gotten away with it, too, if the girls hadn’t been such big crybabies. Amber doesn’t want to grow up to be a big crybaby, does she?” he cooed.

“I figured we were goners that day. Poof! Up in smoke.” I watched a young man enter the room. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Nudging Lonny, I asked, “Who’s that?”

Everyone looked over. Lonny said, “Matt Borman. His dad owns all the property up Sidewinder’s Gulch. A good part of the mountainside, actually.”

“How does Matt know our parents?”

“Everyone knows your family and everyone in it.” Lonny laughed. “Especially your grandmother.”

I felt sure he was right. Everyone in Silver City, nearby Park City, and even parts of neighboring Salt Lake City, I’m sure, knew about Naomi Ross and her flamboyant personality and reputation. Most people were amused by her. Usually, I was, too. Liz was the one she drove crazy because she and Grandma were so much alike—but tonight, our roles seemed to have been reversed.

David and Zach joined us. David said, “Did you watch your grandmother on the dance floor? She’s a pro.”

My son’s eyes grew wide. “Old Mr. Myers asked her out on a date.”

I looked at the corner with no tables. Grandma was, as she said, “cutting a rug” with old Mr. Myers, who had more wrinkles than a Shar Pei and had already buried three wives. The whole town was making a big deal about his hundredth-year birthday coming up soon. The oldest citizen in Silver City, not to mention one of the richest, too. “They’d better make it quick or he might not be around to blow out the candles.”

“Did she say yes?” Jennifer asked in a horrified tone of voice.

“No,” Zach announced. “She told me he was too old for her.”

Paul chuckled hearing that.

“She was looking for a boy toy last month,” I said. “Like Demi used to have.”