I Love You Again (8 page)

Helen grinned evilly. “Let’s have Dale pick.”

“Oh, you hateful heifer,” Kit mumbled as she hung her head.

“Okay,” Dale said thoughtfully; she took a drink of beer. “How about something from The Indigo Girls?”

“Who?” Helen looked completely confused. “Oh, you mean ‘Mood Indigo’?”

“What?”

“I suppose you’re too young to know who Duke Ellington is.” Helen sighed unhappily. “And no, he is not the queen’s uncle.”

Kit looked at the beamed ceiling, wishing for something, anything. A small nuclear device, perhaps an avalanche…

 
“I’m starving.” Bess announced as she walked into the room. She glanced at her watch. “And my dinner companion is late.”

“He is not,” Kit said, absently playing the piano. “I understand he’s already at the table.”

Bess grinned and looked in that direction. “He is? A man who’s punctual? My, my…” she asked happily. “Well, see you in the dining room.” She took two quick steps, then slowed down as she nonchalantly walked away.

“Don’t break a leg,” Helen said over her shoulder. “Now we’re only waiting on my dinner companion.” She looked past Dale. “And there he is. Right on time.”

Kit’s eyes widened as the largest man she’d ever seen walked into the room. She glanced at Dale, who leaned toward Helen. “Mrs. W., you dog.”

“The
doggiest
,” Helen said with a superior grin.

“
Eww
.” Kit grimaced.

Helen ignored her as Stan walked up. “Good evening, Helen.” He smiled and offered his hand while absently looking around.

“Good evening, Stan. Give me a hand, if you please.” She groaned as Stan easily assisted her. “She’s in the dining room already,” she whispered to him.

The blush that crept up from his neck was adorable. It made his cheeks, which were clean-shaven, blotchy and red. “Thank you,” he said. “But I think I got the better end of the deal.”

Helen laughed as she slipped her arm in his.

“You say that now,” Kit said to him and offered her hand. “I’m Kit Weston, Helen’s daughter.”

“Oh,” Stan said, “so you’re Roz’s
wi
—”

“And this is a friend of mine, Dale Caldwell.” Kit saw the blush once again spread across his cheeks.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking Dale’s hand.

Kit ignored Dale’s questioning look while she and Dale followed them to the dining room.

“This should be an interesting evening,” Kit said to no one in particular.

“Indeed,” Helen said over her shoulder.

“Indeed,” Dale mimicked Helen and chuckled. “I love the way she talks. She sounds so old…”

Helen stopped and looked back.

“I-I meant cultured. Old and cultured,” Dale said with a nervous laugh.

Yep, Kit thought, this should go well.

Where was that avalanche when you needed it?

Chapter 7

“Where would you like to sit, Helen?” Roz asked, avoiding how Dale had her paw hanging on Kit’s waist.

“I think I’d like to be right where I can see everyone,
er
everything,” Helen said.

“The dining room is small,” Roz said. “You’ll get to hear everything. Don’t worry.” She led them to one of two tables by the fire.

“Oh,
Kit’n
Dale?” Helen called out. She leaned into Roz. “I love calling them that.” She motioned with her cane. “Come sit here, children.” She pointed to the table right next to hers.

Kit held her ground and smirked. “We’re fine right here, Mother.” They took the far table by the entrance of the dining room. “And it’s not quite far enough,” she added as they sat down.

Roz had to laugh at that. “I can move it onto the patio if you prefer.”

Kit grudgingly smiled, hating the old feeling that crept back just at the sight of Rosalind Maguire.

Dale looked from Roz to Kit but said nothing.

“I love that daughter of mine.” Helen laughed as Stan held her chair. “She got her wit from me.”

“I’m sure she did.” Stan took the chair opposite Helen. “And I’m starving. Thanks for inviting me.” He glanced over his menu at Bess’s table. “That’s her date, huh? He’s okay-looking.”

“He’s almost too handsome. I don’t trust someone who has no physical flaws.” Helen nodded as she grinned at Stan. She held up her cane. “I’ll trip him. You kick his ass?”

Stan blinked in astonishment, then let out a healthy laugh. “Not on an empty stomach. Maybe after dinner.”

The dining room was now filled with every guest—no one sat next to Helen, which she took in stride. She watched Roz take the drink order from Bess and scurry to the bar just as Mark came through the swinging kitchen door and grabbed his notebook. Roz said something to him, motioning to Kit’s table. Mark nodded obediently and headed back into the kitchen.

Helen sat back and regarded Stan. “What do you do for a living, Stan?”

“I do carpentry work and odd jobs here and there.” He put the menu down and looked at Helen.

“College?”

“Yep. Colorado on a football scholarship. Studied architecture.”

Helen raised an eyebrow. “You’re an architect?”

“Used to be. Worked for a company in Denver, but…” He shrugged and picked up his napkin.

“But what?”

“I guess it did nothing for me. I didn’t build or design what I wanted, only what I was told. So I stayed and worked and socked away the money until I couldn’t stand myself any longer, quit, and moved back here. That was about five years ago.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes. No money, but what the heck,” he said with a laugh. “Roz and I agree money is overrated.” He pulled at his tie, which had Helen laughing. He wore a dark sport jacket, denim shirt, and a dark tie.

“You look very handsome.”

“Thanks. I—”

“And very uncomfortable. Loosen the tie, dear, before you pass out.”

Again, Stan’s face reddened as he laughed and did as instructed. He also unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “Whew!” he said with relief.

“You remind me of Roz.”

“I heard my name. That can’t be good.” Roz stood by the table and looked at Helen. “Need anything? A little hemlock?”

“I’m ready to order,” Stan said, looking at Helen.

Roz took their order and picked up the menus. “And don’t believe a word she says.”

Stan laughed as Roz walked away. “She’s still in love with your daughter.”

“I know. If knocking their heads together would help…”

“Roz told me she was wrong in leaving,” Stan said.

“Well, Kit is quite stubborn.” Helen sat back. “She’s afraid of growing old.”

Stan leaned his elbows on the table. “Is that why she’s with that woman? She looks like my niece.”

Helen nodded. “Trying to hold on to her youth. She’ll kill herself trying.”

Stan smiled then. “Roz is totally different. She almost embraces her age. Well, she complains when her knee acts up. And when she can’t do something.” He laughed then. “She called me once, so upset. She was trying to cut down a tree…”

“Good Lord.”

“I know. But she’s an independent woman. Anyway, she didn’t want to use the chain saw, which I totally agreed with. Especially after she told me she was having a menopausal moment, as she put it.”

“Oh, the stories I could tell about that crazy nut and her love of mowers, saws, and all things powered, gas or electric.” Helen held up her cocktail. “You’re a smart man, Stan.”

“I don’t know about that. She was using the ax and taking her frustrations out on the poor tree. And she almost gave herself a heart attack, not wanting to quit. ‘I won’t let a damned tree get me,’ she said. I mean, it really wasn’t a big tree at all, but she called me anyway. She was sweating, her face was beet red, and she worried me. I found her leaning on the ax.” He laughed again. “And swearing at the tree. I’ve never heard a woman drop the F-bomb so many times. Anyway, I know she had her nursery business, and she knew what she was doing, but… Well, she may be stubborn, but she’s not stupid.”

“So you came to the rescue and what? Picked the tree up with your bare hands?”

“Nope. I’m an architect, Helen, and a carpenter. I know about angles and leverage. I may be a big man, but I know where my strength lies.” He pointed to his temple and winked. “I called my buddy.”

Helen laughed along with him. “I’m glad Roz has you as a friend. I’ll worry less now. And I think Bess could use a man like you in her life.”

Stan laughed. “I don’t even know her.”

“But you’re attracted nonetheless. We’re only here for a few days. You’ll have to get a move on, young man.”

Stan shook his head. “At least let me finish my dinner.”

********

Across the dining room, Kit watched her mother chatting away with Stan. “She’s up to no good.”

“This is great pasta.” Dale looked up from her plate. “Who?”

“My mother,” Kit said, still watching them. “It’s positively Machiavellian.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Dale said, concentrating on her dinner.

Kit turned her attention to Dale and watched while she ate. She was going to explain but decided against it. Honestly, if “Mood Indigo” confused Dale, Machiavellian would surely undo her, and Kit truly didn’t have the strength. She’d been on the verge of exhaustion since she first saw Roz.

“Your mom is okay. She just wants to see you happy, I guess. Here, have another glass of champagne.” She took the icy bottle out of the bucket and poured another glass for both of them.

“Thanks.” Kit picked at her food; she’d lost her appetite when she saw Roz, and it hadn’t come back. She laughed inwardly, this would figure—her only way to get into shape was thinking of Roz. She glanced at Dale, who had just finished her plate of pasta.

“Dale, we need to talk,” Kit said, setting down her fork.

Dale winced and sat back. “I know. You’re
pissy
because I made reservations without telling you.”

“
Pissy
? No, I’m not
pissy
. I was surprised by my mother, and I suppose by you, too.”

“I shouldn’t have come?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Kit looked up to see Roz standing by the bar looking from table to table. When their gazes met, Kit’s heart started that familiar quick beat. Roz smiled slightly, then walked behind the bar. Kit looked back and found Dale watching her.

“Okay. Something’s going on here. You and your mother seem way too familiar with the owner of this place.”

“There’s something I have to tell you. I do know Roz. We all do. You see, Roz and I…”

“Roz?” Dale asked. “You’re on a first-name basis?”

Kit tried to gauge how she would continue. “We’re…um…a little more than that.”

“How little?”

“A lot little. We, you see, we…”

“Don’t tell me. You were lovers?” Dale asked, leaning forward.

“Well, yes, but—”

Dale laughed. “That’s not such a big deal. Hell, Kitty Kat, me and Sandy at the skydiving place were lovers a while back. Well, actually, it wasn’t that long ago. Anyway, that’s no big deal. Boy, if I had to avoid all the women I had sex with…”

“We had a ceremony and a relationship for almost eighteen years,” Kit blurted out. “She’s my wife. Well, I guess ex-wife.” She hated that term. Just to say it out loud had her stomach roiling.

Dale had the glass of champagne to her lips and did the quintessential spit-take. She let out a deep cough; the champagne bubbled and spewed out of the sides of Dale’s mouth.

Kit winced and leaned out of the way of the spray. She nervously glanced around the dining room and noticed—of course—her mother with eyebrows raised, a smirk on her face, and a song in her heart, Kit had no doubt. Helen nodded as if she knew what had transpired between them. Bess had her hand to her mouth, stifling a guffaw of laughter; Kit could see her face turning red from the effort. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Roz.

Mark quickly was at Dale’s side, who was still coughing. Mark sharply rapped Dale on the back, nearly sending her off her chair. He looked at Kit. “Is she choking?”

“No. Except for the ruptured vertebrae, she’ll be fine.” Kit offered the napkin, which Dale snatched out of her hand. “She just saw the menu prices.”

“Would you like something else to drink?” Mark asked, looking at the empty bottle of champagne. He quickly went back to the bar when Dale said “a beer” and waved him off.

“Are you all right?” Kit asked.

Dale leaned in. “You could have told me before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I came here.”

Kit rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t know you’d show up. Remember? Surprise? My birthday? And I had no idea where my mother was bringing me.”

Dale let out a derisive snort. “Right. You just happened to pick this place out of the blue.”

“I didn’t pick this place, and please get that tone out of your voice. I had no idea about any of this.”

“Why would your mother do such a thing?”

“Because she’s addlepated. I tried to tell you that the first time you met her.” Anger was finding a happy home throughout Kit’s body again.

“She’s what?”

Kit looked up. “Oh, will you get a dictionary or read a book, for god’s sakes?”

“No need to get bitchy, Kit.” Dale tossed her napkin down, just as Roz came up to the table with her drink.

“This one’s on the house.” She quickly left after Dale glared up at her.

“Your mother sure has put me in an awkward position.”

“You?” Kit’s jaw dropped. “You put yourself in this position when you took it upon yourself to come here. I wish you’d remember that.”

“Well, I must have looked like an idiot at the bait shop today. And you could have told me when we went for that walk.”

“Frankly, I was too exhausted from our death march, and if I recall, talking about my fitness program took up most of our time,” she said more rudely than she wanted. “Look, I’m sorry for all this. My mother has some crazy notion that Roz and I are still in love.”

“So you’re the wife she was talking about this afternoon?” Dale’s voice came out in a squeak.

“Yes.”

“The one she should have paid attention to?”

“Yes, Dale.” Kit painfully rubbed her eyes.

“Is that why you’re not together? Because of her fly-fishing?”

Kit looked up then. “No,” she said, trying to be patient. “It was more than fly-fishing.”

“Will you quit making it sound like I’m some idiot?”

“Well, who in the hell would end an eighteen-year marriage over fly-fishing?” Kit sighed and sat back. “We wanted different things. I…I really don’t want to go into this.”

“I think I have a right to know.”

“Based on what? We’ve known each other exactly eighteen days. And in that time, we have exchanged kisses and light dinner conversation. We have not even broached the topic of sex between us and have never spoken of anything intimate. I’m not sure what you think you have a right to know about my past.”

Dale angrily tossed back the rest of her beer and looked back at the bar, raising the empty bottle. “Can you at least tell me how long it’s been since you’ve seen each other? From the look on your faces this morning…” She sighed angrily.

“Two years.”

Dale nodded. “So now what?” she asked, turning around to Kit. “I leave?”

“Of course you don’t have to leave.”

Kit stopped talking when Roz walked over and replenished her beer, placing the bottle on the table; without a word, she walked away. Dale picked up the beer and took a drink.

“I appreciate you wanted to be part of my fiftieth birthday and—”

Now beer spewed all over the table.

“For god’s sake, Dale…” This time, it caught Kit full in the face. She slowly wiped the foam out of her eyes and picked up her napkin. “No more drinking while I’m talking,” she said, wiping her face. “
Whattaya
say?”