Taking Heart (16 page)

“I mean back there. We have a lot of cakes to get done.”

Eric walked towards the swinging door. “Let me just check, okay?” He
stuck his head into the kitchen. “Can you guys spare Ren for an hour or so? We
need to go to the store to get some stuff for that table.”

“No problem,” she heard Lisa say.

“She can take the rest of the day off if she wants,” Jolene piped in.

Eric turned back to Ren with a cheeky smile. “Looks like we’re good to
go.”

For Eric, walking down the wide aisles of Home Depot with Ren was a
surreal experience. He couldn’t believe he had actually boarded a plane in the
middle of the night and flown to Chicago on a whim, and from the looks that Ren
was quietly shooting
him,
she must be experiencing the
same sense of astonishment.

“You’re very quiet,” he said, nudging her arm. “You still in shock?”

She looked up at him with those big brown eyes. “Yes. I still can’t
believe you flew all the way over here to fix my table.”

“You know that’s not the only reason I came,” he said. “I wanted to visit
you.”

“How long are you staying? And isn’t your woodworking sensei going to be
mad that you’re gone?”

“As a matter of fact,” he said, perusing the store’s selection of wooden
spindles. “He took the day off today, so I’m flying back tonight.”

He could sense that she was trying to find the words to articulate just
how grand a gesture he had made, but he didn’t want to go there.
At least, not right now.
“I don’t see anything that matches
the other legs.” He turned to Ren. “We can just change them all out. Which one
do you like best?”

After Ren chose, they made their way back to Jolene’s house and the shop
tools in the garage.

“These were my dad's,” Ren explained, touching a hacksaw gently. “Paul,
Jolene's husband, works a lot and never has time to use them. So all these
years they've been sitting in here, in exactly the same place that my dad left
them.”

Eric ran his hands along the dusty shop tools—a table saw, drill
press, even a lathe—and thought it a travesty that they were going to
waste.

“Jolene said we could help ourselves to whatever we need,” she said as
they carried the table and legs into the garage. She searched the shelves for
the can of satin white paint she’d used on the table. “Aha!”

He smiled to himself as he began to take the remaining legs off with a
screwdriver, glad that Ren had finally relaxed. Now that she was in her
element, he was seeing another facet of her personality. “So you grew up in
this house? How come Jolene is living here?”

“My mom died six years ago, and my dad two years after that. They left us
this house and some money to start the bakery. Jo bought our share of the house
after she got married.” Ren looked around as if her family history was written
on the garage walls. “I’m really glad she didn’t change too much.”

When he noticed that she was beginning to stare into space, he decided to
change the subject. “So I ran into Will Smith the other day,” he said, drilling
holes into the tops of the spindles to align with the table. “He was at
Starbucks with his daughter, Willow.”

Ren spun around, her eyes wide. “Really? Did you talk to him?”

“Yes. I walked in right as they were getting their order, and we said hi.
I guess he remembered me. Then I told him that my friend Ren was his biggest
fan and could rap the Fresh Prince theme song at the drop of a hat.”

“No! What did he say?” She sat down on a short rolling chair, her mouth
agape.

“He laughed and told me to tell you hi.” Eric watched as her face went
from shock to joy.
I put that smile there,
he thought with some small
amount of satisfaction. “He said he’d like to hear you rap if you’re ever in
Los Angeles.”

Ren grinned from ear to ear. “So Will Smith knows that I exist?” she
asked with wonder. “Perhaps a trip to California is in my near future.”

“I think that that would be much welcomed.”

With a little drilling and painting, the table was once again good as
new. They stared at his handiwork an hour later as they waited for the paint to
dry.

“You did a great job,” Ren said, inspecting the legs that, after shaving
a bit off the
ends,
were now perfectly balanced. “You
can’t even tell that these are brand new legs.”

He shrugged. “The power of paint. But really, it was an easy fix.”

She gazed up at him, a lopsided smile on her face. “I suppose I have to
pay you those promised cupcakes now.”

“I actually would just like something to drink.”

“Do you want to sit on the deck out back? I’ll meet you out there with a
drink. What do you want?”

“Just ice cold water please. I feel a little dehydrated.” He felt Ren’s
eyes on him as he licked his dry lips.

“Sure? I could make some iced tea.”

“Water’s fine,” he said and opened the side door that led to the
backyard. The yard was not large by any means, but the grass was green and
short and the plants that ran along the fence were well kept. At the rear of
the house was a raised wooden deck and on it sat a long Adirondack-style bench
with a matching wood ottoman. He walked up to it for a closer inspection,
recognizing its exquisite handmade quality.

“My dad made that,” Ren said as she emerged from the house with two tall
glasses of water.

“Really? It’s fantastic. I’ve never seen anything like it, with an
ottoman no less!” He motioned to it. “Can I?”

“Sure,” she said, handing him a glass. “That’s what it’s made for.” She
sat down beside him, and even though they were not touching, he could still
feel the warmth she was radiating. They sat in cool silence for a long
time,
sipping their drinks and watching the sun begin its
descent from the sky in a display of crimson and gold.

Finally he couldn't take any more of the silence. “So how are you doing?
With the Ben situation, I mean,” he asked, looking down at the empty glass in
his hand.

“I don’t know. Sometimes, I still dream about him and I wake up and carry
around that sadness with me all day. But some days, I just completely forget to
think about him. And I know that it means I’m starting to get over him, but it
fills me with guilt, you know? What if I forget him completely?”

“I don’t think that will happen,” he said, daring a look at her face and
seeing the sadness behind her eyes. But this was different from the looks he’d
seen in Colorado, a little less despair and a little more hope. “Unless you get
amnesia or something.”

A smile touched her lips. “Well that certainly makes me feel better.” She
nudged him. “So what about you? How are you these days?”

He held his breath and cleared his throat. “I’m good. I’m seeing
someone.”

Without missing a beat, she said, “That’s great. What’s her name?”

He released his breath, resigned to the idea that Ren truly wanted to be
friends and nothing more. Her reaction alone was proof of that. “Her name is
Karen. She was a girl I dated back in college. We actually just reconnected and
are seeing each other again.”

She finished the rest of her water and set the glass down on the deck.
“I’m glad you’re dating. Do you like her?” she asked softly. “Never mind,
that’s a silly question. Of course you like her.”

He wanted to say that he liked Ren too, even more actually, but pride
kept his mouth shut. “I think it could be something serious, but we’re taking
it slow.” He regretted the admission the moment it was said aloud. He ran a
palm down his face, wondering what could have possibly possessed him to admit
something that he’d only fleetingly thought about. Then again, he realized with
bittersweetness, this was Ren, the one person in whom he could always confide.
“I was in love with her in college, but I dumped her because I got scared.”

He felt vindicated when he spied a hint of discomfort on her face. “And
now? Are you still in love with her?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Then I think that means you’re not.” The intensity of her gaze bore into
his brain, but what would have normally repelled him instead drew him closer.

“Do you love me, Ren?” he found himself asking. It was a simple question
with two distinct answers, two roads that lead to either happiness or
disappointment.

Her eyes roamed over his face and he knew, just felt it in his
bones, that
she was still not over Ben and had once thought
he’d carried Ben’s heart in his own chest. “I don’t know.”

Her words hung between them like fog.

“Hey, there you are!” a small voice said behind them, dispersing the
tension.

Eric turned, glad for the interruption, and saw a cherub-faced girl with
curly brown hair. “You must be Nina,” he said with a friendly smile.

She clung to Ren’s side and whispered loudly, “Who is that boy, Aunt
Ren?”

“His name is Eric,” Ren said, giving the girl’s shoulder a squeeze. “He
flew all the way here from California.”

Nina gave him a once over and turned back to her aunt. “Is he your
boyfriend?”

Ren shot him an apologetic look. “No,” she said to her niece. “He’s not
my boyfriend. He’s just a friend.”

He tried to smile despite the nail in the coffin.

Dinner with Ren and her family was pleasant enough, with Jolene’s husband
present to help counterbalance the estrogen overload. Eric suspected Paul
served as a damper to the sisters’ curious natures and prevented them from
throwing out questions they wouldn’t have normally thought twice to ask.

Eric began to feel more at ease as they ate and talked. He couldn’t
remember the last time he’d experienced a family dinner, as his own family was
scattered across the globe. His mother and stepfather lived in Norway, his
stepsister in Germany with her military husband, and his various grandparents
either passed on or living in a suburban retirement home. Getting everyone
together for a meal would take nothing short of an act of Congress.

The dinner went by fast, and all too soon he and Ren were back in the
car, heading towards Chicago O’Hare airport. They had not talked to each other
much during the night, had only exchanged silent looks and sideway smiles, and
the awkwardness extended to the car. The uncomfortable silence was almost too
much to bear.

Finally, as they neared the departure terminal, Ren broke the silence.
“Thank you for coming out to visit, and for fixing my table,” she said as she
parked the car by the curb.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’m glad I came.”

They stepped out of Ren’s silver Honda Accord and faced each other. He
slung his backpack over one shoulder and smiled thinly.

“You know your question before...” she began, looking at her feet. “I do,
you know, love you. Just not the way that you want me to.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll take any kind you have to offer.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because you’re my soul mate, remember?” He squeezed her once before
letting go. “I said I’d be your friend. So here I am, being friendly.”

“This is more than friendly. This is downright humanitarian.”

“Well, you can add Do-Gooder to my many other titles.”

She stood on tiptoe, and for one moment he thought she was going to kiss
his lips. Instead, she twisted her head slightly and planted a lingering kiss
on his cheek. “You take care.”

“You, too, Ren.”

With one last wave, she climbed back into the car and drove away, and
even though it made absolutely no sense, he couldn’t help but feel as though
he’d been abandoned.

chapter
eleven

“Did yesterday really happen?” Ren asked the bakery kitchen the next day.
It seemed so bizarre that less than twenty-four hours ago, Eric had been in
their store, filling the room with his cheerful presence, and today he was back
in L.A., back to his life and new girlfriend. The thought dampened her mood,
but only slightly. Eric had still flown across the country just to see her;
that alone was enough to make her smile.