She could feel the flame rising in her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He smirked. “Okay.”
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something witty and unexpected, something to put him in his place, but before anything sprang to mind, he tossed the remains of the apple in the garbage and turned to rinse his hands before going on.
“Listen. I’m glad you’re here for another reason, too,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m having a little get-together tomorrow with friends, and I was hoping you’d be able to swing by.”
She blinked, unsure if she’d heard him right. “To your house?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Like a date?”
“No, like a get-together. With friends.” He turned off the faucet and began to dry his hands. “I’m hooking up the parasail for the first time this year. It should be a blast.”
“Are they mainly couples? The people going?”
“Except for my sister and me, all of them are married.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I have a boyfriend.”
“Great. Bring him along.”
“We’ve been together almost four years.”
“Like I said, he’s more than welcome to come.”
She wondered if she’d heard him right and stared at him, trying to tell if he was serious. “Really?”
“Of course. Why not?”
“Oh, well . . . he can’t come anyway. He’ll be out of town for a few days.”
“Then if you’ve got nothing else to do, come on over.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I’m in love with him.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And . . . you can be in love with him at my place. Like I said, it’s going to be fun. Temperature is supposed to get close to eighty. Have you ever been parasailing?”
“No. But that’s not the point.”
“You don’t think he’d be happy if you came over.”
“Exactly.”
“So he’s the kind of guy who wants to keep you pretty much locked up when he’s away.”
“No, not at all.”
“Then he doesn’t like you to have fun?”
“No!”
“He doesn’t want you to meet new people?”
“Of course he does!”
“It’s settled, then,” he said. He headed toward the door before pausing. “People will start showing up around ten or eleven. All you need to bring is a bathing suit. We’ll have beer and wine and soda, but if you’re particular about what you drink, you might want to bring your own.”
“I just don’t think . . .”
He held up his hands. “I’ll tell you what. You’re welcome to come if you’d like. But no pressure, okay?” He shrugged. “I just figured it would give us a chance to get to know each other.”
She knew she should have said no. But instead, she swallowed through the sudden dryness in her throat. “Maybe I will,” she said.
Seven
Saturday morning started out well—as the sun came slanting through the blinds, Gabby found her fuzzy pink slippers and shuffled to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee, looking forward to a leisurely morning. It was only afterward that things started to go wrong. Even before she’d taken her first sip, she remembered that she needed to check on Molly and was happy to find that she was nearly back to normal. The puppies seemed healthy, too, not that she had the slightest idea of what, if anything, she was supposed to watch for. Aside from latching themselves onto Molly like fuzzy barnacles, they tottered and toppled and whimpered and cried, all of which seemed like nature’s way of making them adorable enough so their mother wouldn’t eat them. Not that Gabby was falling for it. Granted, they weren’t as ugly as they might have been, but that didn’t make them nearly as beautiful as Molly, and she still worried that she might not find homes for them. And she had to find homes for them; that much was certain. The stench in the garage was enough to convince her of that.
It didn’t just smell—the odor assailed her like the Force in a Star Wars movie. As she began to gag, she vaguely remembered that Travis had suggested she build a pen of some sort to keep the puppies contained. Who on God’s green earth knew puppies could poop so much? There were piles everywhere. The smell seemed to have leached into the walls; even opening the garage door didn’t help. She spent the next half hour holding her breath and trying to keep from getting sick as she cleaned up the garage.
By the time she was finished, she had pretty much convinced herself that they had been part of some sort of evil plan designed to ruin her weekend. Really. It was the only reasonable explanation for the fact that the puppies seemed to favor the long, jagged crack in the garage floor, and their accuracy had been uncanny enough to force her to use a toothbrush to clean it. It was disgusting.
And Travis . . . let’s not leave him out of it, either. It was as much his fault as the puppies’. Granted, he had mentioned in passing that she should keep them contained, but he hadn’t really made a point of it, had he? He hadn’t explained what would happen if she didn’t listen to him, did he?
But he’d known what would happen. She was sure of that. Sneaky.
And now that she considered it, she realized that it hadn’t been the only thing he’d been sneaky about. The way he’d pressed her to answer the whole “Do I go out boating with my neighbor who happens to be a flirty hunk?” She decided she didn’t want to go, if only because he’d been so manipulative about getting her to agree. All those ridiculous questions insinuating that Kevin kept her under lock and key. As though she were Kevin’s property or something! As if she had no mind of her own! And here she was now, cleaning up a million mounds of poop. . . .
What a way to start the weekend. To top it off, her coffee was cold, her newspaper had been soaked by an errant sprinkler, and the water had gone frigid before her shower was finished.
Great. Just great.
Where was the fun? she grumbled to herself as she threw on her clothes. Here it was, the weekend, and Kevin was nowhere to be found. Even when he was around, their weekends weren’t anything like the ones she’d had when she’d visited him during her school breaks. Back then, it seemed as if every visit were fun, filled with new experiences and people. Now he spent at least part of every weekend at the golf course.
She poured herself another cup of coffee. Granted, Kevin had always been the quiet type, and she knew he needed to unwind after a hard week at work. But she couldn’t deny that since she’d moved here, their relationship had changed. Not that it was completely his fault, of course. She’d played a role, too. She had wanted to move in, settle in, so to speak. Which was exactly what had happened. So what was the problem?
The problem, she heard a little voice answer, was that it seemed as though there should be . . . more. She wasn’t exactly sure what that entailed, other than that spontaneity seemed to be an integral part of it.
She shook her head, thinking she was making too much of it. Their relationship was just going through some growing pains. Moving out onto her back deck, she saw that outside, it was one of those impossibly beautiful mornings. Perfect temperature, light breeze, not a cloud in the sky. In the distance, she watched a heron break from the marsh grass, gliding above sun-drenched water. As she stared in that direction, she caught sight of Travis heading down to the dock, wearing nothing but low-slung plaid Bermudas that stretched almost to his knees. From her vantage point, she could see the muscle striations in his arms and back as he walked, and she took a step backward, toward the sliding glass door, hoping he wouldn’t spot her. In the next instant, however, she heard him calling out to her.
“Hey, Gabby!” He waved, reminding her of a kid on the first day of summer vacation. “Can you believe how beautiful the day is already?”
He started to jog toward her, and she stepped into the sun just as he pushed through the hedges. She took a deep breath.
“Hey, Travis.”
“It’s my favorite time of year.” He opened his arms wide to take in the sky and trees. “Not too hot, not too cold, and blue skies that stretch forever.”
She smiled, refusing to eye his admittedly sexy hip muscles, which, she always thought, were far and away the sexiest muscles on men.
“How’s Molly doing?” he chattered. “I assume she made it through the night okay.”
Gabby cleared her throat. “She’s fine. Thanks.”
“And the puppies?”
“They seem okay, too. But they made quite a mess.”
“They’ll do that. That’s why it’s a good idea to keep them in a smaller area.”
He flashed those bleached teeth in a familiar grin, way too familiar, even if he was the hunk-who-saved-her-dog.
She crossed her arms, reminding herself how sneaky he’d been the day before. “Yeah, well, I didn’t quite get to it yesterday.”
“Why not?”
Because you distracted me, she thought. “I guess I just forgot.”
“Your garage must smell to high heaven.”
She shrugged without responding, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
He didn’t seem to notice her carefully choreographed response. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be complicated. But pooping is all puppies do for the first couple of days. It’s like the milk runs right through them. But you’ve got the pen up now, right?”
She tried her best to keep a poker face but obviously failed.
“You don’t?” he asked.
Gabby shifted from one foot to the other. “Not exactly,” she admitted.
“Why not?”
Because you keep distracting me, she thought. “I’m not sure I need one.”
Travis scratched at his neck. “Do you like cleaning up after them?”
“It’s not so bad,” she mumbled.
“You mean you’re going to give them the run of your whole garage?”
“Why not?” she said, knowing that the first thing she was going to do after this was to build the tiniest pen she could.
He stared at her in obvious bafflement. “Just so you know, as your vet, I’m going to come right out and say that I don’t think you’ve made the right decision.”
“Thanks for your opinion,” she snapped.
He continued to stare at her. “All right, then. Suit yourself. You’re going to come to my house around ten, right?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“I see,” he said, sounding exactly like her mother.
“Good.”
“Is something bothering you?”
“No.”
“Have I done something to upset you?”
Yes, the little voice answered. You and your damn hip muscles. “No.”
“Then what’s the problem?” he asked.
“There’s no problem.”
“Then what’s up with the way you’re acting?”
“I’m not acting any way.”
The teeth-baring smile was gone, as was all the friendliness he’d shown earlier. “Yeah, you are. I drop a basket off to welcome you to the neighborhood, I save your dog and stay awake all night to make sure she’s okay, I invite you over to have some fun on my boat today—all this after you screamed at me for no reason, mind you—and now you’re treating me like I have the plague. Since you moved next door, I’ve tried to be nice, but every time I see you, you seem angry at me. I just want to know why.”
“Why?” she parroted.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady. “Why.”
“Because,” she repeated, knowing she sounded like a sulky fifth-grader. She just couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He studied her face closely. “Because why?”
“It’s none of your business.”
He let her answer settle into the silence.
“Whatever,” he finally said. He turned on his heels, shaking his head as he walked toward the steps. He was already on the grass when Gabby took a step forward.
“Wait!” she called out.
Travis slowed, took another couple of steps, then came to a halt. He turned to face her. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” she offered.
“Yeah?” he said again. “What are you sorry for?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I didn’t expect that you would,” he grunted. When she sensed him getting ready to turn again—a turn that Gabby knew would signal the end of cordial relations between them—she took a step forward, almost against her will.
“I’m sorry for all of it.” To her ears, her own voice sounded strained and tinny. “For the way I’ve been treating you. For the way I’ve made you think I’m not grateful for the things you’ve done.”
“And?”
She felt herself shrink, something that seemed to happen only in his presence.
“And,” she said, her tone softening, “I’ve been wrong.”
He paused, hand on hip. “About what?’
Gee, where should I start? the little voice answered. Maybe I haven’t been wrong. Maybe my intuition has been warning me about something I don’t quite understand but shouldn’t be under-estimated. . . .
“About you,” she said, ignoring the little voice. “And you’re right. I haven’t been treating you the way I should, but to be honest, I’d rather not go into the reasons why.” She forced a smile, one that wasn’t reciprocated. “Would it be possible for us to start over?”