Point of Attraction (9 page)

She looked away to Daisy and Max, not
really wanting to hear what was coming. “I have to go
feed...”

“No,” he said, reaching out to take
hold of her hands. “You have to listen. I’d give anything if I
could trade places with Sam and have struck that black ice instead
of him.”

“Don’t say that...”

“I’m trying to make a point here.” He
gave her hands a gentle tug and held her left one up, his thumb and
forefinger toyed with her wedding band. “It’s time, Georgie Girl.
It’s time to let Sam go. It’s time to be you. There’s a life left
ahead of you.”

She pulled free and stepped back. “What
does this have to do with Mas... Officer Montgomery? If I’m so
ready for a man, what about you?”

“Me! Oh, good God! That’s incestuous.”
He shuddered and wiggled his fingers that she not touch
him.

Georgie laughed so hard it brought
tears to her eyes; tears for the humor of it, for the longing for
her Sam, and for what used to be, never to be again. And she
laughed at Nick’s open shudder as though he were trying to escape
from his skin that was suddenly too small for his frame. His mouth
pulled to the side in that silly half grin of his, as he wrapped
his arms around her and patted her head into his chest.

“You, Cassie and me. All we have is
each other. Don’t you think it was fate that brought us together as
neighbors, giving us the siblings we didn’t have? Cassie on one
side, me on the other. That was us.” His grin was comical and
carried so many memories. “You don’t know what Cassie and I put Sam
through before we let him date you. But he held in there, our Sam
did."

She opened her mouth wanting to ask
more, to bring up more memories of Sam, but Nick gently urged her
from him and looked at his watch. “Listen, I have to get going
here. Have things to do, people to see.”

“That is such an over worked
phrase.”

“I’m not the writer. You are. So I can
use it as many times as I want.” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling
with a quick dismissive wave. “What freedom that is.”

“You can be such a... well, such a you,
I guess.”

He nudged her chin and nose with his
knuckle, and she reached for his jacket, but he grabbed it first.
So she got the key, led him through the front room and out the
door, Daisy ahead of them. “You coming this Saturday?”

“Not sure. The company sales rep has
this thing brewing.” He raised his hands, once more fingers
wiggled. “Big doings.” After he put on his helmet, he looked back
over his shoulder. “What time on Saturday?”

“About six or seven.”

He zipped up his jacket, put on his
gloves and started the motorcycle. After the roar of the motor went
into idle, he gave her a thumbs-up and roared away. She watched
until his taillights disappeared, then looked down at Daisy. Her
nose too pointed in the direction the motorcycle had gone. Georgie
patted a hand over the loyal head. “At least he’s home, Girl.” The
phone rang in the house and they both ran inside.

The caller ID indicated
BLOCKED.

“
Hello? Hello?”

With no response, she hung up. Slowly,
she went about locking up, then down the hallway remembering those
days how often she spent the night at Cassie’s house or at Nick’s,
or they at her house... until their parents finally gave in and cut
out a section in the fences. They never even bothered to put in
gates. That was how they grew up.

When she married Sam, they moved in
with her dad. After her father passed away, only her two children
kept the house filled with pieces of her parents. But when the kids
went off to college, she told Sam she couldn’t live there anymore.
It was the first of the three houses to be sold, and they bought
this house; small yet big enough for her writing, kids to come
visit, “and those grandchildren,” Sam had grinned, and hugged her
tight. “We’re going to grow old here, Georgie, old and
wrinkled.”

Tears welled and rolled down her cheek.
Sam missed the first grandchild by three years. Georgie leaned on
the doorframe and flipped on the light to his small medical room
where he kept his veterinarian emergency supplies. It was empty of
all those things now, and made into a second spare bedroom. Steven
and Paula had helped her pack everything with all the love this
little family had nurtured.

Sam was the best veterinarian to be
had, and a thoroughbred mare at Prime-Breed Ranch was in trouble
with a breach birth. They worked with the mare all night; saved
both her and the foal. Instead of spending the night at the ranch,
he drove home, but the roads had iced up during the cold October
night, and her Sam hit a patch of black ice.

I didn’t even get the
chance to say good-bye to you
, she sighed,
wiped away the tears, and turned off the light.

Chapter eight

Georgie poured soymilk creamer into her
morning oatmeal, flavoring it with her sugar free Hazelnut coffee
syrup. While the steaming breakfast cooled, she dressed. When the
phone rang and the ID said it was Cassie, Georgie put it on
speaker, and sat to eat her oatmeal as she listened.

“I see the salesman from the twilight
zone was here,” Cassie said.

“Oh, yeah. Nick was in the shop when
the police were there about Raggs.”

“He told me.” Cassie’s laughter was the
clear twinkling of crystal glass in a chandelier, and Georgie
prepared herself.

“Who did?” Georgie asked, her first
thought going to Mason wanting to check out Nick’s story with
Cassie.

“The nut case himself, who
else? He told me he pulled the
Spook
thing on the cop.” Cassie
finally stopped laughing and took a breath. “We had coffee last
night while waiting for yet another boy-arrival into this
world.”

“I wonder if Nick’ll ever grow up; get
married.”

“Naaahh,” Cassie said. “Never happen.
He’s Peter Pan, our brother is.”

“Cassie, don’t encourage
him.”

“God, you are such a sourpuss in the
morning,” Cassie said, followed with a loud overdone sigh. “You
know what you need?”

“Hanging up now,” Georgie said, more
than ready to end this call.

“Okay, okay, dropping it. Nick said it
was M&M that came out to check on Raggs.”

“He
is
a policeman after all.” Georgie
swallowed the spoonful of oatmeal and made a mental note to do Nick
great bodily harm when she saw him again.

“And how many policemen does Portland
have?”

Georgie didn’t even try to stifle her
own sigh of frustration. “Did it occur to you that the other
policemen may have gotten important assignments and poor Mason got
stuck with mine. I should never have called them.”

“Oh, it’s
poor
Mason now, is it?
And why not call? It was Mason that said you should.”

“Okay, I can see this is
turning into a
KOBAYASHI MARU
situation.”

“Don’t talk your Trekie lingo to
me.”

“
At least you recognized
it. This is progress.” Georgie’s spoon clinked loudly in the now
empty bowl as she stood staring at the phone in its cradle on the
table. “It’s a term for a no-win situation, no right answer that
doesn’t land you in quicksand. So, Doctor Blanes, you go deliver
another baby. I am going to work. You tell Nick...”

“Which reminds me,” Cassie said, as
though she’d heard nothing of a good-bye. “Nick asked me the
strangest thing.”

“And this really surprises
you?”

“He asked me if I thought M&M was
the type to leave a rose on a windshield?”

Georgie slowly turned to
stare at the rose in the vase on the counter corner where Nick had
shoved it. What was it Nick had answered?
Oh, that rose
. But he never did say
it was he that put it under the windshield wiper.

“Georgie? Georgie, are you there? Did
you hang up on me?”

“No, I’m here.”

“Why would he ask that?”

“Don’t know,” Georgie said, going to
the vase. “Why does Nick do anything he does?” She poked at the
rose, struck a thorn, and jerked back her finger. “I have to get
going. I want to get an hour’s worth of writing before I leave for
the shop.”

“I sure wish I had a job where I could
just decide to write for an hour before going to work. Must be
nice, you know?”

“Uh huh. And if I were to look inside
that little notebook you keep in your pocket; the one you scribble
on while having coffee as you’re waiting for the right dilation,
counting how far apart the contractions are? What would I find,
Doctor Blanes?”

“Hanging up now.”

Georgie burst into laughter. “God, I am
sharp in the morning.” And a dial tone agreed with her.

But when Georgie put the phone back on
its base, she couldn’t help but look at the rose again, the morning
mirth slipping away. “So who tucked you under my wiper? Jeffrey?
Jeffrey. No. But if not Jeffrey, then who?”

Daisy barked and Georgie looked out
into the back yard. A soft morning breeze sent golden leaves
floating across the scene. Both Max and Daisy were doing their
outdoor thing; Daisy sniffing, following that all-important scent
from one end of the yard to the other along the fence line, Max
sitting in his corner of the covered patio, watching
Daisy.

Georgie smiled. She had
been so pleased when Sam had this huge window put in over the
kitchen sink. It was like letting the outside come indoors.
“
I can work in the yard and look up and
see you
,” he said. She’d have to call the
landscaping people to start dealing with the falling
leaves.

She gave the rose one more moment of
reflection and headed for her writing room.

~~0~~

“Hey, Georgie. Good morning. Want your
usual?”

Georgie looked at Parker,
manager of the Cup Java Espresso House, but his question only
brought back Tonie Clark’s words,
They did
say they could adjust their clocks by Ms. Gainsworth’s comings and
goings
.
Which is
not a good idea, having a predictable schedule like
that
.

“Georgie? You okay?” Parker asked while
making the espressos already ordered. “I heard about Raggs. I’m so
sorry. Shall I make you your usual?”

It was difficult to hear Parker over
the hissing steamer and the murmuring chit chat among morning
caffeine patrons. Georgie took a deep breath and said, “No.
Surprise me. I need surprising this morning.”

“All right, Georgie!” He smiled his
twenty-something charming grin. “Look, your corner table is
empty.”

Georgie glanced to the far corner where
she often waited for the girls or just sat and sipped an espresso
while re-reading what she’d written the night before. For a second,
she felt shock and a quick shudder. A red rose with a white ribbon
beneath the bud lay on the table. She almost turned to ask Parker
about it, but one of the Cup Java workers towel-dried a bud vase,
poured some water in it, then slipped the rose inside. Georgie then
noticed all the tables this morning sported a rose in a
vase.

“Georgie?”

“No, not this morning.” she told
Parker. “I have to get to the shop and get it going.”

“Here you go then,” he said, handing
her a twenty-ounce espresso. “That’s five-seventy-five.”

“Ouch! It better be good.” Georgie took
a cautious sip and her taste buds responded. “Oh, yes,” she cooed,
handing over a ten dollar bill. “What is this drink of the
gods?”

“A Parker Morning Wake-up Special,” he
whispered with a smile that Georgie was certain could send heat
waves through many a young woman’s body. “Coming in for a hair cut
soon.”

“Call me.” She nodded while slowly
savoring another sip then motioned to his worker, Delsie, to put
the change in the tip jar. “Hmmm. Worth every penny. You’re my
man.”

“Don’t I wish.” Parker grinned, did the
Groucho Marx-eyebrow lift, and went back to his job. Georgie turned
to leave and found a wall of black jacket and neatly pressed black
shirt with shiny buttons. She sidestepped while sipping her Parker
Special, but the wall moved with her, still blocking her way. Her
sight finally focused on the weaponry at the waist and she looked
up.

“You and I need to talk,” Mason said,
and pointed to the far corner table.

“No,” Georgie said, and indicated a
table at the big window facing the parking lot and the street
beyond. “Over here.”

When they sat down, the tip of his shoe
touched hers and he pulled his feet back, but his large hands
almost touched hers on the small round table. She fought the urge
to look into his eyes and centered her attention on her espresso,
his fingers still very close.