Читать книгу A Marriage-Minded Man / From Friend to Father: A Marriage-Minded Man / From Friend to Father - Karen Templeton - Страница 9

No less pissed than he’d been an hour before, Eli stormed through the shop’s door, the whining of table saws and pounding of hammers piercing his sleep-deprived brain. Yeah, Tess could play the “it’s not you, it’s me” card all she wanted, but she couldn’t wait to get out of Eli’s house, could she? To put her “mistake” behind her. True, maybe nobody could make you feel like dirt unless you let them—and maybe, considering their past, Tess wasn’t totally out of line feeling the way she did—but that’s exactly what he felt like. Dirt. Worse than dirt, like something disgusting on the bottom of somebody’s boot.

But what Eli couldn’t for the life of him figure out was why Tess’s reaction was getting to him so bad. Wasn’t like he expected anything more. Or less. And for sure it wasn’t the first time he’d had a go-with-the-flow moment, even if the last one had been a while ago. Still. For somebody who’d been singing the no-strings song for a whole lot of years now, the last thing he’d expected was to…

Was to feel something for somebody he had no business feeling anything for. Not after all this time. Not after what he’d done. Not after one freaking night, for God’s sake. What those feelings were, he couldn’t even begin to sort out. But being with Tess…it just wasn’t what he’d expected, that’s all.

Just like getting his nose whacked out of joint wasn’t what he’d expected, either.

“And what got up your butt?” his father launched at him as Eli strode across the dusty floor to the “kitchen”—a microwave, hot plate and coffeemaker set up on an old card table.

“Nothin’,” Eli muttered, grabbing the coffeepot and sloshing some into his mug. “Just didn’t sleep good last night.”

At least it wasn’t a lie. Especially after Tess passed out, and, instead of crashing, too, Eli found himself watching her sleep, hardly able to breathe through the “What the hell was that?” shock. Now, though, Eli didn’t have to look at his father to see the what-now? squint. A squint not without cause. Not after some of the boneheaded stunts he and his brothers had pulled over the years. How his parents had survived raising four boys was nothing short of a miracle.

“You got troubles, son?”

Forcing a smile to his lips, Eli looked back at the old man. Jowly, balding and paunchier than was probably good for him, Gene Garrett may not have been as physically commanding as he’d once been, but that steely-blue gaze still lasered right through a person, even behind his glasses. His boys might not always agree with him, but not for a second would any of them think of disrespecting him.

“Nothing that’s gonna cause the world to stop spinnin’,” Eli said, clapping his father’s shoulder before heading back to his own area of the shop, where a massive, carved headboard awaited staining. His father followed him, his arms crossed high on his chest. Eli glanced over.

“I’m okay, Pop. Really.”

“No, it’s not that.” His father’s gaze veered to the bed. “Guy called this morning and canceled.”

“What? He can’t do that, this is custom—”

“I explained all that, and he said he knows it means forfeiting the deposit and all, but…he said he was real sorry, but this just isn’t a real good time to be spending big bucks on a headboard.”

On a rough sigh, Eli dropped onto a nearby stool. “It hasn’t been a good time for a while now. I mean, what the hell?” He scrubbed a hand along his jaw and let out another sigh as he glowered at the almost-finished piece. “It’s not like I can just toss it in the back of my truck and go hawk it out on the highway, like Thea Griego does with those awful painted coyotes of hers. And don’t you dare start up about how if I was led to make this thing, then it’s gotta find a home.”

“Patience has her perfect work, son,” his father said, then smiled. “And God knows your mother and I have had ample opportunity to prove that particular passage over the years.”

Sighing, Eli wagged his head, then got up and snatched a manila folder off the battered desk in the corner of the room. “You see this? It’s my order folder.”

“Looks a mite on the thin side.”

Eli opened it and turned it upside down. A single sheet of paper fluttered to the gouged, sawdust-smeared floor.

“That was the bed, I take it?” his father said.

“Yep.”

“Then there’s somethin’ else better waitin’ in the wings, you’ll see.” Before Eli could groan, Gene added, “But we’re doin’ okay—you know what they say, when folks aren’t buying new homes, they remodel. So we can always use you over on this side of the shop.”

Eli glared at his father’s back as he walked away. Yesterday, he’d been happy as a damn clam. Now the clam had just been shipped off to hell in a handbasket…a trip Eli’d taken a time or two before in his life.

Except now he realized it was up to him, whether it was a one-way trip or not. He could sit here and stew, or he could act like a grown-up and actually do something about it. Or at least try. Not about the canceled order, maybe—at least, not now—but about Tess? Yeah.

“Anybody got a phone book?” he yelled to the world at large. Seconds later one flapped to his feet, sending up a cloud of wood dust. With a nod to Jose, one of their employees, Eli snatched it up, elbowing off the cobwebs. Two years out of date but good enough. He flipped open the thin book, found Tess’s number, then dug his cell phone out of his shirt pocket before he lost his nerve.

Maybe last night was a one-time thing—and maybe that’s all it should ever be—but that didn’t mean he and Tess Montoya didn’t have a few things to clear up between them.

Like, now.

Toweling her hair, Tess stared at the ringing landline as though she’d forgotten it was there, since nobody called her on anything but her cell anymore, prompting her to wonder why she even kept the darn thing—

“You gonna get that or what?” her aunt yelled from down the hall.

“No,” Tess yelled back.

Seconds later, Flo appeared at her door, phone in hand and speculative look on face. “It’s Eli Garrett,” she said, conveying a wealth of questions in three words. Because not only would Flo undoubtedly remember Tess’s Eli phase, she would know Tess’s and Eli’s dealings since then had been virtually nonexistent.

Still, Tess played it as cool as a woman in a towel with recently applied beard burn across much of her person could. “Now what on earth do you suppose he wants? We haven’t even spoken in years.”

“I’m sure I have no idea,” Flo said, handing over the phone. With a pointed look at Tess’s abraded neck.

“Hot shower,” she whispered.

“Whatever,” Flo said, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

“Are you insane?” Tess said into the phone. “Why on earth—”

“Just making sure you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“And maybe that’s not an opening you want to be giving people, just at the moment. But that’s neither here nor there. We need to get together. To talk.”

“Eli…Last night…Nothing’s—”

“Gonna happen. I know that. But there’s stuff I need to get off my chest.”

She tensed. “Then just say it.”

“Dammit, Tess—where’s it written you get to call all the shots? You don’t have to accept my apology—”

“For what?” she said, thinking, All the shots? How about any of the shots? “Last night?”

“Hell, no, not for last night. Got no regrets about that. Never will. No, for what I did a dozen years ago.”

Her chest cramped. “Eli—”

“I’m not offering up any excuses. But I’m truly sorry, Tess, for hurting you. I was then, even if I couldn’t get over myself enough to say it. As for the other stuff…well. I’m not gonna make any excuses for that, either. But I want you to know…I’m not that person anymore.”

“Why would I believe that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, sounding…tired. Sounding much too much like a man looking for comfort…making her much too much aware how willing she’d be to give it. Maybe. Under other circumstances. Like if they were two different people who didn’t have some really bad history between them. “I don’t suppose I’ve exactly given you—or anybody else—cause to believe I’ve changed,” he was saying. “But last night…I guess it shook loose some stuff in my head I didn’t even know was there. Ah, hell, I’m not even sure what I’m saying.”

“Then don’t,” she said, fervently wishing he’d stop. Now. While she still had a grip on her anger. On her control.

“No, I’ve got to get this out.” He paused, then said, “It’s just…being with you again reminded me of what we had, I guess. What I threw away. But it’s not like I was having some kind of let’s-go-back-to-high-school fantasy or anything, okay?” Another pause. “Can I be honest?”

“I thought you were.”

“Okay, more honest.” He blew out a breath, then said, “Look, there’s been a few women in my life—”

“A few?”

“Yeah, well, there were a lot of nonstarters in there. Even so—and I know this isn’t gonna win me any points—most of ’em were…diversions. I’m not proud of that, but I never led any of ’em on, either. Given ’em any reason to think I was offering anything more than I was. I might’ve been a jerk, but I’ve always been an up-front jerk. But here’s the thing, and I know this is gonna sound like a line, and a lame one at that…but it was different with you—”

“Oh, Eli, for God’s sake—”

“I swear, Tess,” he said, forcefully enough to shut her up. She could count on one hand how often that’d happened. “You weren’t a diversion, you were a helluva lot more than that. And I’m not sayin’ that to get you back into my bed, or my life or anything. I know you weren’t looking for anything last night except what happened, and that you’re not likely to be looking for anything in the near future. Least of all from me. And that’s okay, because I’m not, either. But I just couldn’t stand the thought of you goin’ for another second thinking…I don’t know. That I didn’t respect you or something. So. We clear on that?”

Another shudder of something damn close to terror snaked down Tess’s spine. She had absolutely no idea how to respond, not to this…this take-charge person who in no way, shape or form resembled the laid-back, goofy Eli she remembered.

“Yeah, Eli,” she said, startled to realize her voice wasn’t steady. “We’re clear.”

As mud.

“Good. Then I’ll let you get back to it. You have a good one.”

Still wrapped in her towel, Tess sat on the edge of her bed for a long time after Eli hung up, feeling a little like she’d just seen a spaceship land outside her window—a combination of disbelief, apprehension and curiosity, all underpinned with the sneaking suspicion that life as she’d known it would never be the same.

Although there was no earthly reason for her to feel that way. Even if Eli had somehow done a one-eighty, what difference did it make? Like he said, she wasn’t even remotely interested in starting up something. With anybody. Because hope don’t live here anymore, she thought, tossing the phone onto the bed.

She dressed on autopilot, pulling items out of drawers and closets without thinking. Or, apparently, looking. Not until she returned to the kitchen, and her aunt’s eyebrows shot up, did it hit her she was wearing her fave suede skirt, the designer boots she’d scored on eBay, a dressy sweater.

In other words, she’d dressed for work.

On Saturday.

It’s official, cookie, she thought, dropping onto a kitchen chair—you’re losing it. Or already had. Not that she’d never worked on Saturday, if that’s the only time a client could look at houses, but when was the last time that had happened?

At the sound of the chair opposite dragging across the tiled floor, she peered over at Flo, whose heavy-handed makeup was not holding up well in the daylight. Something about the glittery eyeshadow.

“Okay,” Flo said, “I was gonna keep my mouth shut—don’ you roll your eyes at me, young lady—but firs’ you get a call from Eli Garrett, an’ now you come out here dressed like Miss Hot Shot Real Estate Lady when you haven’t been to work in a month—”

“The two are not related.” She didn’t think.

“Maybe not. But somethin’ is going on with you. An’ I’m not leaving this house until I find out what. You can start by telling me where you really were las’ night.”

Tess looked around. “Where’re the kids?”

“Out back, playing. Micky’s keeping an eye on the baby. An’ don’ change the subject.”

“Hard to do when I don’t even know what the subject is.”

Leaning back, Flo crossed her arms across her breasts, such as they were. “I got one word for you…Eli?”

“What makes you think—?” Her aunt laughed. “Glad you think this is funny.” Suddenly starving, Tess got up to pour herself a cup of coffee before wrenching open a large metal tin on the counter filled with Little Debbie treats. She tried to remember how long ago she’d bought the chocolate-coated donuts. Couldn’t. From outside, she heard Julia’s belly laugh; ripping the cellophane off the donuts, she walked to the window over the sink, then twitched back the curtain. Her babies were playing tag, an obviously still bummed Miguel letting Julia tackle him to the ground.

An entire stale, tasteless donut stuffed in her mouth, Tess’s eyes smarted as she decided she was oddly grateful that the kids were as young as they were, that maybe their parents’ divorce wouldn’t scar them for life. But you know, considering the long stretches when they didn’t see Enrique before, how much could his absence—his deliberate uninvolve-ment—affect them now?

Guilt, justifier of all things.

Three of the four donuts devoured, she grabbed her coffee and returned to the table, realigning the crooked salt and pepper shakers before cramming in the last doughnut. “Do I act like I think I’m perfect?” she asked with a full mouth.

“Where did that come from?”

“Something Thea said.”

Underneath a head of stiff, black curls, Flo’s brow crinkled. “I don’ know about perfect, but…when you were real little, you’d go outside and play, bring half the dirt back inside with you. Pull out all your toys an’ leave them all over creation. You know, like a normal kid?” Her mouth thinned. “Then your father walked out, an’ everything changed. Suddenly, you couldn’t stand messes. Wouldn’t let yourself get dirty, never left a toy out of place. Your mother told me how you’d come home from school an’ go straight to your room to make sure everything was exactly the way you left it. How you’d jump up from the dinner table to be the first to clear the dishes.”

“So I became more orderly. What’s wrong with that?”

Her aunt shrugged. “Nothing. On the surface. Only it was like after your father left, a switch flipped inside your brain, you know? An’ suddenly it became all about control. About you having control over your universe. An’ every time something threatened that control…” Her aunt shrugged again. “You got worse.”

Tess stood to rinse out her coffee mug, setting it in exactly the same spot in the drainer she did every morning. Oh, God. But…Frowning, she looked at her aunt over her shoulder. “There was more to it, though, wasn’t there? It was about me trying to please Mama.”

Flo raised her coffee cup to her in salute.

Drying her hands on a dish towel, Tess returned to the table, sinking back into her chair with a sigh. “And after Ricky went into the service…all those months of feeling like my heart was in my throat…” Her eyes watered. “It was the only way I could keep from losing my mind.”

“I know, querida,” Flo said, leaning forward to briefly squeeze Tess’s hand. Then she sat back again, her arms folded again. “Whatever happened las’ night must’ve been really something.”

Tess’s eyes shot to her aunt’s. “What makes you say that?”

“When was the last time we actually talked?” At Tess’s blush, she added, “So. You spent the night with a man. An’ now you’re eaten up with guilt.”

Tess’s mouth flattened. “I’m not exactly proud of myself.”

“One lapse don’ make you a bad person, Tess.” Her lipsticked mouth quirked up. “An’ not to put too fine a point on it…but if you ask me, you were way overdue.” At Tess’s slightly hysterical laugh, Flo added, “You’re a young woman still. An’ a divorce isn’t a death sentence.”

“It’s only been a year—”

“You don’ really expect me to believe that, do you?”

Tess bounced up out of her chair again and returned to the sink, her hand knotting atop the cold porcelain as she watched the kids through the window. It was true, she rarely talked about her feelings, to her aunt or anybody. But after last night…“Having a man around…it’s just too confusing, trying to figure out who I’m supposed to be. And anyway, then they leave, or change their mind—or change, period—and then what?”

Flo came up to pull Tess close, as always the mother Tess’s own mother had never really been. “You know, baby doll, you don’ have to be strong all the time.”

“What choice do I have?” she said, gesturing lamely toward the window, her babies. “It’s not like their dad’s exactly picking up the slack.”

“What about Eli?”

Tess frowned into her aunt’s concerned eyes. “What about him?”

“Does he like kids?”

“Oh, geez,” Tess said on an airless laugh. “Eli as…as…omigod, I can’t even find the words. No, no, no…” Her hands lifted, she walked back to the coffeemaker and poured herself another cup. “That was an aberration, pure and simple. A meltdown. And no how no way will it happen again.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not serious? Flo, you’ve heard the stories, same as I have—”

“So maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

The mug almost to her mouth, Tess lowered it, nonplussed. This from the Gossip Queen of Tierra Rosa. “Yeah, well,” Tess said, “not only do I have firsthand experience—”

“Sixteen doesn’t count.”

“—but corroborative evidence abounds,” she continued, ignoring her aunt, “to back up my theory.” Never mind his parting words—that he had changed—gonging in her head. “Eli and me…ain’t gonna happen. End of discussion.”

After a moment, her aunt returned to the table to retrieve her own mug. “So. You going into work?”

“No,” Tess sighed out. “Not sure I’m ready yet. Besides, it is Saturday.”

“So?” Flo said, clicking back to the sink to rinse it out. “Give your brain something to do besides chew the past to bits. Find an outlet for all that excess energy. Not unless you wanna have another one of those meltdowns.”

“I won’t—”

“I’m off until Monday, I’ll watch the kids since I know Carmen doesn’t sit for you on the weekends—”

“I’m not going into work today! It was a mistake, okay?”

“Tell that to the boots and skirt,” her aunt said, nodding at Tess’s outfit, and Tess thought, Rotten subconscious.

“I know you needed some downtime after…after you signed the papers,” Flo said gently. “But you gotta be goin’ nuts by now, not working. So go into the office for a couple hours. Jus’ to take your mind off…everything.”

She could fight her, she supposed. Say, No, don’t wanna, not ready yet. Except…Flo was right, damn her meddling little heart. A couple hours focused on the miserable real estate market would definitely take her mind off Eli, yep.

“You sure Winnie and Aidan don’t need you?”

“I’m the housekeeper, not their slave. An’ he’s busy workin’ on one of those big paintings for that show in New York, anyway. He won’t even miss me. So go.”

So Tess hugged her aunt, grabbed a leather jacket from the coat closet and her purse from the counter, kissed her children—who’d tumbled back into the house, panting and looking for juice—bye-bye and told them she’d see them in a little while, to be good for Auntie Flo. Julia just waved and resumed her juice quest—little twerp—but Miguel gave her a look of such longing it nearly ripped her heart out.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said, leaning over to cup his cheek. “We’ll make cookies, okay?”

“’Kay,” he said, smiling a little.

And that, Tess mused as she eased herself behind the wheel of her slightly dented and dinged white SUV, just cried out for a serious caffeine and sugar injection, one Flo’s wussy coffee and a pack of stale Little Debbies couldn’t even begin to address.

Fortunately, Tess knew just where to get her fix.