A Date With Fate (29 page)

NanaBel feels sorry for this granddaughter. Even though Candy is three years my senior and has tried her damnedest to make my life a living hell; NanaBel has asked me repeatedly to go easy on Candy since we were kids. It proved impossible to like her, but for years I have avoided her, ignored her, and reluctantly turned the other cheek and kept quiet rather than destroy her--all in honor of respecting my grandmother’s wishes.

NanaBel wants me to have pity for Candy because she’s an unhappy, empty soul and vastly needy. I say pity is a wasted emotion that benefits no one involved in the long run. The person being pitied learns nothing of value from their actions, and the people doing the pitying get the dubious satisfaction of being condescending and feeling morally superior. Big whoop.

In this particular instance, I have disagreed with my grandmother’s judgment since day one. Throughout our childhoods and into adulthood, NanaBel doesn’t know half the shady shit Candy’s pulled. Candy grabs anything she wants as her due and knows no boundaries in her pursuit of this belief.

I’m a girl who believes more in the motto of her forbearers from Scotland,
Nemo Me Impune Lacessit.
This is the
Latin that translates roughly, “None shall provoke/injure me with impunity
”.
Combine that sensible motto with the proverb
, “
Revenge is a dish best served cold” and I’m good to go.

Candy and I are long, long overdue for a cousinly chat, and NanaBel is far, far away in Egypt. You see, Candy has pushed me to my wall. She didn’t ask to borrow my gun, but stole it out of my apartment last Wednesday. Leaving a “Got your gun” note on my kitchen island hardly constituted asking my permission. Using the word stole is not too harsh or inaccurate. She knows I would not extend her a helping hand if she were drowning; much less lend her my gun.

Tonight Anna, looking very cute and cozy in a purple wool jacket complete with matching plum colored mittens, hat and a scarf, gave the Honda a scowling glance, as if reading my thoughts.

She touched my arm and held me back as the others continued up the sidewalk.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something all damn day, but keep forgetting and getting sidetracked.” Anna didn’t wait for my response but rushed on, “I wanted you to hear this before Candy or Kenna tells you. I ran into Mike last night at the Contented Cow. He’s joining his Uncle’s law firm in Minneapolis and is back living here. In Northfield, I mean.” She hesitated briefly. “He asked all about you. He wanted me to give you a message.”

I stood frozen for a moment, processing what she said. My brain felt as cold as my hands. I’d drawn a blank for a second when she said the name Mike, but at the mention of my cousin and my sister her meaning became crystal clear.

Mike McClain was my one awful aberration of a boyfriend and long term relationship. When we’d broken up, I’d talked about it only with Anna, and only once, so she’d understand why he was out of my life forever. My family was extremely surprised initially when we broke up, but soon forgot about it when I appeared disinterested and never spoke of him. The name Mike McClain was rarely brought up again in my presence since I was nineteen. It helped that his parents moved out of state due to a job transfer his second year in college and he’d never come back to Northfield. Until now.

This was officially the day from hell. Could it get any more unreal? It only made a terrible kind of sense that ten years later, this would be the one day the name Mike McClain waltzed back into my life. My life was turning into a “Final Destination” movie. Fate was trying its damnedest to kick my ass.

“Okay.”

Anna peered at me in the moonlight. “Okay? What does ‘okay’ mean?”

I linked my arm through Anna’s and started steering her up the sidewalk, snuggling against her for warmth. “Okay means okay. Now I know. Thanks.”

Anna dug in her feet to stop me. “Wait, Junior. Don’t you want to know what questions he asked? Do you want to hear his message? Do you want to know if he’s fat or bald, or married to a heifer?”

“Nope.” I pulled her forward again, and this time she walked with me up to the house.

Anna grumbled, “I didn’t tell him anything about you, or answer any of his questions if you were wondering.”

I may be cursed and doomed, but I couldn’t resist smiling at these grumpy words. “Never crossed my mind you would.”

Anna grinned back while shaking her head. “Sometimes, I don’t understand you. It would drive me crazy to not ask questions if I hadn’t seen Reg in ten years. I want to know, June, how can you not be curious what he looks like now, if nothing else?”

Standing under the porch light with a hand on the back door knob, I stared at my friend in silent deliberation. I softly blew out a long puff of white, cold air.

‘
What the hell, it was a long time ago and this was my best friend asking.’

“You remember, right, how it was for Mike McClain and I for over two years?”

I don’t know what she saw written on my face or heard in my voice, but Anna nodded solemnly, eyes serious.

I spoke matter-of-factly to get it over with. “I really loved Mike with every fiber of my being. It wasn’t naively; I knew every one of his faults and I loved them, too. Yes, I was young and innocent, blah, blah, but I was never
that
young. It wasn’t some high school crush for me. I would have joyfully loved him forever, that’s how sure and deep and right it was for me.” I smiled wistfully at Anna, letting myself recall for a moment how it felt to be so completely in love. “I never doubted he felt the same way.”

I saw her face soften, but she stayed quiet.

“I believed back then our bond, our connection, was something undeniably special. After all the men I have met since then, I know now how true that was.” I shrugged lightly. “At least, for me it was. I could live to be a million years old and I will still never get why Mike did what he did. Why he threw me away. Of course, I never bothered to talk to him about it, but you know the really strange thing about it all, Anna? I’ve always suspected somewhere deep down Mike didn’t know why, either.”

This was the hard part. I hated to even think about this period in my life and rarely did anymore. I forced myself to push the words out. “At the time, I told you how he betrayed me. What I didn’t tell anybody was how rough it was dealing. I had to cut Mike out of my heart so missing him didn’t eat me up like a cancer and kill me; it was that bad. I was sick to my soul not having him in my life. My pride insisted I hide it from everyone.” I shrugged. “So I did. I hid it every minute, of every hour, of every day, week after miserable week.

“Finally, after a few years, and I do mean years, I cut off my feelings deep enough that it was actually true. I no longer needed him to feel whole and right. I thought about him less and less. I didn’t have dreams about him at night that made me hate waking up and facing the morning. Sounds dramatic, right? Yeah, well, how I wish I was being a drama queen.” I smiled softly, reaching out to wipe a tear overflowing from Anna’s welling eyes. “You little crybaby.” She whipped off her mitten to give me the finger and I smiled again. “I say it’s okay because he’s nothing to me now, Anna, less than nothing. All right?”

Anna nodded quickly, wiping under her eyes with her bared hand. “I did know how in love you two were. Whenever I’ve thought about it over the years, I still can’t believe he did it.” She smiled a sad little grimace. “I gotta hand it to you, though, Junior. You succeeded in fooling everybody, me included. I thought you got over him so quickly it was weird, but I was so pissed off at him I was relieved you did. I’m really blown away to hear how bad off you were inside. Perception is such a confusing thing, isn’t it? I wish you didn’t have to be so freakin’ strong all the time. Sometimes, it makes me feel like a whiny bitch always blabbing about my problems when you don’t, but I guess it’s just who you are.” She sighed and squeezed my arm. “Okay, I see what a dumbass I was to bring him up. Let’s go in and get that Margarita. What do you say?”

“I say you, Miss Softie, are a gentleman and a scholar.” Grateful she changed topics; I pushed open the door and entered the toasty heat of Mac’s spacious back hall. “And don’t ever call yourself a dumbass. I reserved that right, remember?”

Anna laughter trilled. “I thought you reserved the right to call me an ass pants?”

“Well duh, dumbass, that too.”

I was called a mean name and pushed from behind by an indignant Anna only to be enveloped in a tight hug by my oldest sibling. I got cheek kisses between getting harped at for wearing no coat. All this hugging today was wearing me down. I heard Anna enter behind me and close the back door. I also heard the sound of a car starting nearby.

I took my head off Mac’s big sister shoulder. “Did we scare off Diego?”

Mac held me away and gave me an incredulous look. “You’re kidding, right? Diego Esteban Tomas Dos Santos trying to escape from a house full of women?” She chuckled at the absurdity. “We’d have to force him out. No, he’s working at the new market. That would be Candy you hear taking off. She stopped by to drop off that duffle bag for you on the bench, but didn’t stay. She has,” Mac raised her hand in quotes, “a mysterious ‘man meet’ tonight. Didn’t you see her out back?”

“She must have left by the front door.” I laughed shortly, briefly pitying the man. I reached for the duffle bag thinking maybe NanaBel would feel my pity vibes across the globe and finally be pleased I pitied something.

Mac slanted me an odd look, but turned to give Anna a hug. “Hi, heard you guys had an exciting day, huh?”

Anna, still wiping her feet on the door mat, held her finger and thumb up in a little bit gesture. They laughed together, and then Annie started in excitedly catching Mac up first on the news about Cheryl Crookston’s disappearance.

I checked out the contents of the duffle while Anna was talking. The Glock appeared to have been recently cleaned. I could smell the solvent and oil. The two clips Candy had snatched along with the gun were in the bag. One ten round magazine was still full of cartridges; the other had only five bullets left. Unless she had brought her own bullets, she hadn’t shot the gun much. I idly wondered what her real motivation was for going on the Duluth getaway. Had to be man related, Candy was always chasing some unsuspecting sucker.

I took out the gun, racked the slide and verified there was no bullet left in the chamber. I couldn’t take chances with Candy that it was unloaded properly. I inspected the Glock to verify no deposits were left in the chamber from earlier firing. I don’t know why I even bothered checking, I planned to thoroughly clean the gun later again no matter what I found. I placed the handgun back in the duffle and zipped it up.

I looked up just as Mac swung her attention back to me. Dressed simply in a light blue wrap shirt and black leggings, my sister didn’t look much older than Stella tonight. Every time she moved her left hand, sparkling color dazzled the eye from the four karat diamond knob she called a wedding ring. Eyes and cheeks shining, Mac’s lovely face reflected the same light and glowed with contented happiness.

I smiled. “So, what’s on the dinner menu tonight?”

“I made Nachos,” Mac laughingly rolled her eyes when Anna and I each shouted out “Nachos” at the same time she said the word, “and Jazy’s in the kitchen right now making Margarita’s.”

Mac doesn’t cook regular meals; her idea of dinner is appetizers. Her most frequent top choice is Nachos, but sometimes she messes with our heads and it’s a layered Taco Dip or Quesadillas. We play a guessing game which of the three it will be. It’s similar to Rock, Paper, Scissors. It’s all in good fun, but she’s gently discouraged by all the family from hosting Thanksgiving.

Anna headed for the sound of the blender. I started to follow; I could hear the tequila calling my name. The minute Anna cleared the back hall doorway, Mac had other ideas. She cupped my shoulders. We were eye to eye because she was in flats and I had on high heels.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you for watching over Stella! I know you’d take a bullet for her, but on Freddy’s grave, I swear to God if you ever do, Bel, that bullet had better kill you or I will.

We touched foreheads lightly even as I snickered. I love convoluted woman logic that makes such perfect sense. “Sure, Spook, whatever you say.”

Mac snickered back. “What, Freak? You don’t think I’ll kill you? Try me.”

She pulled back. “Now, how come I haven’t met this Superman Luke, and what’s up with the Candy Coater?”

Seeing Mac’s sly, humorous smile, it hit me how much Mac and Stella look alike with their expressive, aqua-blue eyes and their matching noses; elegant with a slight bump near the bridge. Mac recently started coloring her dark brown hair a pale, golden blonde. It still took me a minute to recognize her in public. I have walked right by her on the street more than once. It looks good on her. I don’t know why she’s pissed Reg has taken to calling her Malibu Barbie. I think it’s a cute name.

My oldest sister is persnickety. She’s immaculate, from her personal grooming and stylish clothing, to her overall spotless house. Nothing falls out of her kitchen cupboards in surprise when you open a random door, and you could eat off the floorboards of her vehicles. I didn’t let these flaws stop me from adoring her. I knew it was that responsibility-driven, overachieving, first kid birth order issue she couldn’t help. Not everyone can be the well-adjusted middle child.

What Stella didn’t inherit from her mother was Mac’s clever ability to size up a situation in a glance, and her innate understanding of the words subtle and nuance. Mac took in my outfit of choice for tonight and added, “Oh yeah, and I like the innocent, cupcake look. Doing a little damage control, are we?”

Smiling broadly, I held my arms out and curtsied in obsequious response to her mental acuity. I was a sweet, feminine confection in a high pony tail, pink silk top and tight, winter white slacks. I was even wearing brown heels. No all black for me tonight; looking like a dominatrix was no way to help the cause.

I was sure the grapevine drums were beating loud along the Mohican; I’d be getting all sorts of crap from friends and acquaintances tonight. Waiting around to go out in public wasn’t going to do me any good. Mac was spot on; I was planning on showing John Q Public things couldn’t have possibly been as bad as they’d heard at Bel’s Books just a few hours before.