Redwood Bend (25 page)

Katie lifted her chin a notch. “How lovely for you.”

“Seriously,” he said, catching her sarcasm. “She’s one of the few people I trust. She’s good people. We didn’t exactly keep in touch, but I’ve known her since she was thirteen.”

“I recognize her,” Katie said. “Lucky you.”

“Katie, she’s married with two kids. A nice person…”

“Well then, I guess we’re all caught up,” she said, standing up.

“Come on, sit down. I just want a chance to explain. I think you know most of what I’m going to say—I tried to say it before. I was feeling kind of serious and I told you how nervous it makes me to feel serious. That long history of family members who just can’t—”

“Blah, blah, blah,” she said.

He frowned, then grimaced because it hurt his face. “Okay, I guess you don’t buy that.”

“Oh, I buy it, Dylan. I also think it’s a pretty convenient excuse to just bail out. You went to a lot of trouble to explain all this to me—that you just don’t want a relationship. You wanted what we had. And we had it. I’m not holding you here.”

“Katie, I called,” he said. “I gave you my number—I didn’t give it to very many people. I wanted you to call. I wanted us to stay in touch because maybe down the road… You mean a lot to me. I missed you like crazy. You’re the one who said our lives just don’t match.”

“Listen, Dylan, I don’t expect you to understand this—it’s just not a part of your lifestyle and it’s very old-fashioned, but I’m a mother and a woman who needs stability and permanence. This is my fault—I knew it was going to be a fling and I don’t have flings. I don’t have any practice at it. It was bound to work out the way it did. And I was bound to be unhappy about it. I didn’t realize when I was involved with you that a part of me hoped things would be different with me, with us. Dumb. You told me up front, that would never change. So, don’t worry—we’re all square. You can hit the road with a clear conscience—you have more temporary girlfriends waiting.”

He scowled. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, you’re pissed. I don’t blame you. I don’t have girlfriends waiting and I want to work this out with you. Maybe we can stay in touch or…something.”

“Dylan, I’m not the kind of girl you want to stay in touch with. I’m looking for something a little more committed. This is not your problem. You don’t have to make amends for just being yourself. I have no regrets about getting…” She almost said
getting knocked up by you,
but cleared her throat. “It was totally consensual. And I’m really sorry about Conner—he shouldn’t have done that. It’s inexcusable.”

“And why did he?” Dylan asked.

“He must have felt kind of bad for me,” she offered. “He’s very protective.”

“Why did he feel bad for you?”

“Probably because he thought my feelings were very hurt, which they were for a while. He thought I was depressed but actually I seem to have a little…” She slid her hand over her belly. “I guess I have a little bug in me. I haven’t been feeling so well. Better now, though. Nothing serious—just a temporary thing.”
Should last about eight more months,
she thought.

“Katie, I wanted to be so much more romantic. I wanted to let you know how much you got under my skin and how hard it was to leave you, but I thought I might never leave. Every time I got near you, I just couldn’t go. It was torture. Things
were
different with you!”

“Hmm,” she said. “Well, as sorry as I am for you, I think you’ve done a noble thing, coming here to apologize, but you can leave now. I know this is going to upset your feeling of being unique, but they write articles about your type in all the women’s magazines. Commitment phobia is almost a cliché.”

“Nice,” he said, sitting back. “May I have some ice before I go, please? For my face?”

She sighed. “I suppose. But then you have to go before the boys see you. They’re zoned out to the movie in the loft, maybe even asleep already.” She got up. She put some ice in a dish towel and brought it to him. “Let’s not drag this out.”

He pressed the ice against his eye. She could only see half his face when he talked. “The thing you don’t get, Katie, it’s not an excuse. I’m not
proud
of this. I probably qualify as some player—at least technically—because I don’t get into steady things. You have no idea how much I wish it wasn’t the case. My best friend is a married man with five kids, he’s like family to me. Except for my grandmother, the only real family I have. His house is where I spend every long weekend and holiday. I would trade a kidney for his life even though he’s always strapped for cash, usually tired, in constant demand at home, lives in perpetual chaos, but he’s always got a smile on his face. I’d give anything for that life.”

She wasn’t sure if she was being played right now or if he was sincere. She took a chance. “Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?”

“It wouldn’t hurt. And you might give me a chance to…I don’t know…check this out, this thing we have. I want to. I’ve never met a woman so hard to leave.” He took a breath.

“Okay, that’s too obvious. What do you want?”

“A second chance?”

“Oh? For how many days or weeks this time?”

He got clumsily to his feet, holding the ice over his eye. “Okay, I deserved that. I won’t jam you up anymore. Would it be all right if I stayed in touch for a while? Called? Maybe visited you sometime?” He wobbled a little.

She stood, as well. “Where are you going?”

“I thought it seemed pretty obvious you’re all done talking here…”

“I don’t know that you’re okay,” she said. “You’re a little unsteady.”

He pulled the ice pack off his eye. “It’s just my balance with the ice over one eye. And the fact that your brother tried to beat my brains out.”

“So, where are you going?”

“Not sure,” he said with a shrug. “I passed by Riordan’s and they’re full up. Even that funky little trailer he let me have for a week is in use.”

She just stared at him for a minute. “I don’t think you should drive…”

“I’ll be okay,” he said, handing her the ice pack.

She groaned in resignation, handing it back. “You can have the couch. I’m going to get my children in bed before they see you. If you sneak into my room tonight, you’d better be coming to get me because the house is on fire or you’re going to live to regret it. Are we clear?”

He looked down. “Can I take off my boots? Or should I be ready to run?”

“You take off anything else, you better run,” she said, and she turned away from him, going upstairs. She hustled the boys into their room before they noticed him. And then the door to her bedroom closed.

Dylan felt the sunlight, then he felt the eyes. He opened one of his to four brown ones. “Y’know, you guys are sometimes a little creepy. The way you do that.”

“Did you have a sleepover again?” Andy asked.

“And forgot your pajamas?” Mitch added.

“I had a sleepover,” he said. “I was feeling a little wobbly and your mother thought maybe I shouldn’t drive.”

“She said you had an accident,” Andy shared.

“That’s right,” Dylan said. “Ran right into a big, stupid fist.”

“Boys, go to the table,” Katie said. “Your waffles are ready.” When they left and she looked at Dylan, she made a face. He was more swollen and the skin around his eye was definitely black-and-blue. “The color is setting in,” she informed him. Then she picked up four empty beer bottles from the top of the trunk. “Go ahead and help yourself to a beer.” She carried them into the kitchen.

He followed. “I’ll be glad to replace them. I had a little trouble sleeping. Did you have trouble sleeping?”

“Sleeping seems to be one of my gifts lately,” she said. “I slept like a dead person. Would you like an egg or something before you leave?”

“Coffee would be nice,” he said.

When she turned away from him to grab a cup, he eyed her backside. She was wearing some thin summer knit sweatpants that fit loosely around her hips and a short shirt, leaving her midriff exposed. He remembered her as tiny, but today she was looking thin. When she turned toward him with a cup of coffee he asked, “Have you lost weight, Katie?”

“I told you, I had a little bug. I’m not completely over it, but almost…”

“Katie,” he asked, stepping closer. “Did I do that to you?”

“Probably,” she said. “Egg?”

“Let me take you out to a big breakfast,” he said.

“Boy, guilt really works on you, doesn’t it? I’m going to have a little cereal, not feeling like a big breakfast.”

“You’ve gotten too thin,” he said. “Makes me want to feed you. And hold you.”

“Wow, that’s real talent,” she said. “You know how to make a woman feel unattractive and desired in the same sentence. Do you want an egg or are you on the way out?”

He tilted his head. “Have you always been this cranky? Could you be a little nicer, please? Your brother beat me up and I’m concerned about you.”

“I’m really just fine,” she said in a calmer voice. “Meet me on the porch.” She grabbed her glass of juice and headed out the door. She sat in one of the chairs and when he sat down beside her, she winced again just looking at him. “What are the chances Conner looks as bad as you?”

“I think he won,” Dylan said.

“Lord. Men.” She cleared her throat. “Listen, Dylan, I apologize if I’ve been less than friendly. But just how many times do you think I want to go through withdrawal? Because seriously, I am not interested in a close casual friendship with benefits. It’s not who I am. I’m not comfortable with that kind of relationship.”

“Did Charlie ask you to marry him after the first week?”

“No,” she said. “After the first week he said he couldn’t live without me. It was after the second week he begged me to marry him. But that has nothing to do with us, with now. Now I’m a mother first and I’m feeling a little protective. I’m not a good mother if I’m worrying about how some man feels about me.”

He felt a smile come to his lips. “That’s very reasonable.”

“Thank you. No regrets, but I’m not getting involved with you. Again.”

“I understand. But you don’t hate me?”

“I don’t hate you. I’ll never hate you. After all, I loved you for three years when I was a girl. And that was before I even slept with you.”

He smiled wider. “What if I wanted to be friends? Without benefits?”

“Big talk,” she said. “We have history. We’d probably end up in the sack and I’d just get hurt again.”

He took a thoughtful sip of his coffee. “Katie, I’d never deliberately do anything to hurt you.”

“You know what? I believe you. But I’d end up hurt just the same and you’d be fine—off meeting up with old movie star girlfriends, et cetera, while I sit here alone in the woods wondering what happened. And the boys…”