Save the Date (37 page)

Jack thought about the matter that had put a smile on his face earlier in the afternoon. He’d almost confided in Ryan. He and his brother were close, best friends, if you got right down to it. But then he’d decided it wouldn’t be fair to Cara.

He hesitated, then tapped her number.

“Me again,” he said ruefully. “Listen, I’ve got a proposition for you. Maybe we can talk about it over dinner.”

When he got to his block of Macon Street, he pounded the steering wheel in frustration. A pair of bright yellow sawhorses were pulled across the street, and city work crews were busily tearing up the pavement.

“What the hell?” he muttered, taking a left turn down the lane. He had a single narrow parking space in back of his cottage, but he preferred parking on the well-lit street out front, since he still hadn’t taken the time to install a motion-activated light in the backyard as a deterrent to thieves.

Grumbling, he shoehorned the truck into his allotted space between two sets of garbage cans. He got out of the truck, locked it, then went around to fetch his heavy tool kit. No way he’d leave it in the truck for any passing thugs to steal.

He had to set the toolbox down while he sorted through the keys on his ring to find the small one that fit the back-gate padlock. Finding it, he unlocked the gate, stepped into his ill-kempt back garden, and locked it again, tugging hard on the padlock to make sure it was secure. He wasn’t taking any chances on Shaz making any more great escapes.

Although, come to think of it, the last time she’d gotten out, things had worked out okay.

“Shaz!” He looked around the yard, expecting to see the big white furball come bounding full-speed at him. He wasn’t the only one at this address whose mood had improved lately.

Since he’d started taking her on regular walks, and even out to the job site some days, Shaz was a different dog. She was lively, playful, energetic, what you expected from a puppy.

But where the hell was she? He’d put her out in the yard before leaving this morning, being careful to make sure she had fresh water in her bowl, food, and chew toys. He’d bought a dog door that would allow Shaz access to the kitchen when he was gone, but hadn’t had time to install it yet.

He peered around the yard, checking to see if she was nestled in the shade beneath the garden’s only tree, a large water oak that desperately needed limbing up. No Shaz.

“Shaz!” Jack was starting to worry. Had she somehow managed to get out some other way? He scanned the fence line, but there was no sign that she’d managed to burrow beneath it, and there was no way she could have jumped the six-foot-high stockade fence.

His pulse raced as he considered the alternatives. Could somebody have broken in and taken the dog? How? The gate had been locked. He hurried to the back porch and tried the door. Locked. He turned the key and stepped into the kitchen, hoping, against logic, that Shaz had magically figured out a way to get inside.

“Shaz!”

“Wowf!” The dog raced into the kitchen and planted her paws on his chest, her tail wagging a mile a minute.

“Damn, girl, you scared me. How the hell did you get in here?”

“Jack?”

For a moment, he could have sworn his heart nearly stopped from a combination of shock and fright.

A woman’s voice. Faint, but distinct, and it was coming from the front of the house.

“Jack, is that you?”

46

She was curled up on the sofa, dressed only in a bra and panties, drinking one of his Dos Equis beers. Her blond hair was lank and she wore no makeup, and there were dark circles under her eyes. A pair of battered Mexican leather sandals sat on the floor, along with her oversized pocketbook.

“Surprise!”

Shaz jumped up on the sofa and laid across her mistress’s lap. Reunited at last.

Jack just stared.

“Zoey? What are you doing here?”

She offered him a weak smile. “I came back.”

“So I see. Why?”

Zoey put the beer down on the floor. “What do you mean, why? I came back because I missed you.” She kissed the top of Shaz’s head, and the adoring puppy rewarded her with a lavish lick on the chin.

“What about Jiminy Cricket? Won’t you be missing him?”

Her lips were dried and cracked, but she still managed to form her signature Zoey Ackerman pout.

“Jesus H. Christ, Jack. For the millionth time, his name is Jamey. Jamey Buttons. And for your information, that’s all over.”

“I thought you were on a cruise ship. For like six weeks. What’d you do? Swim back to shore?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I happen to be pretty damn sick. Ever hear of a thing called norovirus?”

“What? That’s the name of your boyfriend’s new band?”

“Ha ha. Don’t you ever watch the news? Norovirus is a highly contagious virus that’s like, the scourge of cruise ships. We were just off Raritan on our last trip when people started getting sick. I was teaching a Pilates class on the sunset deck when all of a sudden, I just, well, I barely made it to the bathroom. And the next thing I know, everybody else in my class is barfing and … you know.”

“Diarrhea?”

She shuddered. “I barely made it back to my cabin in time. Ten minutes later, here comes Jamey—and now he’s sick!”

“Too bad,” Jack said.

“Have you ever seen one of the bathrooms on those cruise ships? They’re like the size of a telephone booth. And we had to share it!”

“Poor you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You think it’s funny, don’t you? I thought I was dying. For two whole days, I couldn’t leave our cabin. And neither could he. It was beyond disgusting. And there was like, nobody to help us. Almost everybody on the whole ship was sick. I kept ringing for the steward, but he was sick too. Finally, somebody brought some Gatorade and some saltines, but I couldn’t keep anything down. I lost six pounds in three days.”

“But you lived,” Jack said.

“No thanks to that jerk Jamey.” She sighed dramatically. “We are so over, it’s not even real. I guess you never really know somebody till you’re locked up in a shoebox-sized room with them with raging diarrhea and nausea, huh?”

“Words of wisdom,” Jack said. “Very sage. But you still haven’t told me how you ended up back here.”

“They had to turn the ship around and go back to port in Lauderdale two days early,” Zoey said. “They gave all the passengers discount vouchers for another trip and stuff, and the cruise line wanted me to stay on, and work on another of their ships, because now they have to completely sanitize the one we were on, but I was like, no effin’ way. I hope I never see another cruise ship as long as I live. Or Jamey. I got off the boat Wednesday, but I was too sick and weak to travel, so I got a room near the port. Then, this morning, I drove straight here.”

“To my place.”

It took a moment for that to sink in. “Our place. I live here, Jack.”

He squatted on the floor beside the sofa so that he could be at eye level. “Zoey, you left me. You said you were in love with another guy, so you packed up your clothes, and you left.”

Huge tears welled up in Zoey’s blue eyes. “It was a mistake,” she whispered. “I, I can’t explain it. That thing they say about women, going for musicians? It’s true! He had like a spell on me. But it wasn’t real. I figured that out. The whole time I was sick, I just kept thinking, if I get off this boat alive, I’m going back to Jack, and I’ll never leave him again.”

She grabbed his hand and clutched it to her chest. “I missed you so much, Jackie.”

His cell phone rang. He stood, awkwardly, and pulled it from his pocket, checking the caller ID. It was Cara.

“Jackie?” Zoey looked up at him expectantly.

“I gotta take this call,” he said, his voice brusque. He turned and strode back into the kitchen.

“Hey, you,” Cara said. “I just heard your message. I’d love some dinner, if it’s not too late.”

He paused and glanced back over his shoulder. Zoey now stood in the doorway from the living room, glaring at him. Her skin was deeply tanned, but she looked gaunt.

“Uh,” he stammered. “I just got in myself, and I haven’t even showered yet.”

“I can wait,” Cara said. “What, thirty minutes?”

“The thing is, there’s been kind of an unexpected development here.”

“Shaz didn’t run off again, did she?”

“No, nothing like that,” Jack said. “I’ve got some out-of-town company, is all. Sort of out of the blue.”

Zoey frowned. “Since when am I company? Who are you talking to? Is that a woman?”

“Jack?” Cara said. “What kind of company?”

Shaz trotted into the kitchen and rubbed up against his legs. He looked helplessly from Zoey to the dog to the back door. If he left right now, he could make it over to Cara’s house, explain everything in person. And maybe Zoey would dematerialize.

“Hey!” Zoey called loudly. “Whoever is on the phone? Jack can’t talk right now. Because his girlfriend is back. And he needs to take care of her. So just hang up, okay?”

He covered the phone with his hand. “Shut the fuck up,” he said hoarsely, slamming the kitchen door in Zoey’s face.

“Cara?”

There was a long pause.

“Oh,” Cara said. “Was that really Zoey?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “When I got home from work a little while ago, she was here. That cruise ship she was on? Everybody got some kind of stomach virus. She said they got back to port yesterday, and she drove here today. Out of the clear blue.”

“
Siren of the Seas
? I heard about that on the news. That’s the ship she was on?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Jack said, wearily rubbing his hand across his face, staring at his own grubby reflection in the kitchen window. “You gotta believe me, Cara. I had no idea she was coming back. I don’t want her here. We’re through. I was just trying to tell her that when you called.”

“What’s she want from you? What happened to the Jimmy Buffett impersonator?”

“She says they broke up. I guess she thinks she can just show up here and I’ll take her back. But she’s dead wrong.”

“What’ll you do?”

“Tell her to leave,” Jack said. “She sure as hell can’t stay here with me.”

“Is she still sick?”

“Zoey? She’s fine! Okay, it looks like she lost a little weight. But she was well enough to drive seven hours straight from Fort Lauderdale, so as far as I’m concerned, she can just keep driving.”

“That seems awfully mean,” Cara said. “The people on that ship were really sick. Some of them are still in the hospital.”

He snorted. “You don’t know Zoey. She’s like a cockroach. No matter how many times you stomp on her, she just gets up and keeps going. Look. Are we still on for dinner? Let me grab a shower and I’ll be over there in fifteen.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. What do you feel like for dinner?”

“Doesn’t matter. After the day I’ve had, I’ll just be happy to see a friendly face.”

“I can do friendly,” Jack said. “Very friendly.”

*   *   *

He stalked back into the living room. Zoey was stretched out on the sofa, with Shaz perched at her feet. She gave Jack a playful wink. “Was that your new squeeze? Did you tell her about me?”

“None of your business,” he said, looking around the room. “By the way, where the hell are your clothes?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Gross. The health department people who met us at the port told us we should make sure and like, sanitize everything. So we don’t spread the virus. Or get it again. God forbid. As soon as I got here, I threw everything into the washing machine.”

“Everything? What were you planning to wear in the meantime?”

She arched one eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning to wear anything. Actually, you kind of spoiled my surprise, coming in the back door the way you did. I had this big welcome back to Jack all planned out.”

“Yeah. I remember the last surprise you planned for me. I came home to an empty house, and a puppy who’d peed all over the floor. I’m pretty much over your surprises, Zoey.”

She stood up, stretched, and reached her arms out toward him. “It’s different this time, Jackie.”

“Forget it,” he said, deftly stepping sideways. “Not interested.”

Zoey was not to be deterred. “I’m not contagious.”

“No,” Jack said, deadpan. “You’re not. Whatever you’ve got, I’m finally immune to it. I’m gonna take a shower now, then I’m going out for a while. While I’m gone, I suggest you finish up your laundry, get dressed, and move along down the road.”

“What? You’re kicking me out? Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he agreed. He headed for the shower. “Why don’t you check the washing machine? I bet your stuff is clean by now.”

*   *   *

He’d just stepped into the shower when he heard the bathroom doorknob turn. And then turn again. Jack chuckled and turned his face up to the nozzle, letting the water stream over his face.

Zoey pounded on the door. “You locked the door?” she hollered. “Asshole! What if I need to pee?”

“Take it outside,” he called back. He reached for the soap and frowned when he saw the familiar silver and pink bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the window ledge. She’d already begun the process of moving in again. This time, though, the process would stop. Tonight.

When he’d toweled off and put on clean clothes, he walked out to the living room to find Zoey still reclining on the leather sofa. Thankfully, she’d gotten dressed, and was wearing an oversized blue-and-white-striped shirt and jeans. She’d combed her hair and twisted it back from her face and was looking semihuman again.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You never wear this shirt, so I didn’t think you’d mind. My stuff’s still in the dryer. I found a pair of my old jeans in the laundry room. You look nice. Where are you off to?”

“Out.”

“Like, out to dinner? Not that you’ve asked, but I haven’t had anything to eat. Not in hours and hours. And there’s nothing in the fridge. I checked.”

“Maybe you should go find yourself something then. Right after you pack up your stuff. I’m not taking you to dinner. And you can’t stay here, Zoey.”

“Where would you suggest I go? This was my home too, Jack. I can’t believe you’re being like this.”