Strange Neighbors (24 page)

   Maybe this was a bad idea. He still hadn't told her his little secret. Only she might not think it was so little.

   "Well? You wanted to talk to me about something?"

   "Uh, yeah." He removed his seat belt and faced her squarely. "I know we haven't known each other all that long…" he began and paused. Now what? He had rehearsed this in his mind, but the words seemed inadequate now.

   She nodded, then tilted her head, waiting for more.

   "Jesus. Words are failing me," he said, and took a deep breath.

   "Look, whatever it is, I love you. Nothing will change that."

   Deciding to just do it, he pulled the little turquoise box from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

   Her eyes widened in surprise.

   She really didn't expect this. Damn. Why didn't I wait? Well, it was too late now. The cat was out of the bag—or the box was out of his pocket, as it were.

   She opened the top and gasped at the sight of a twocarat diamond solitaire in a gold setting.

   "Holy crap!" she exclaimed. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. "Sorry. That wasn't a very romantic response, was it?"

   He laughed, grateful that she'd broken the tension. "I was kind of hoping for a yes or no, but if you need time…"

   She shook her head but didn't say anything.

   He waited with his heart in his throat. If she said yes, he'd tell her. If she said no, there'd be no need to.

   She smiled. "Well, what I mean is, I don't need time to make up my mind. I don't want to put you through that. But I'd like time to get to know each other for a while before…" She stared at the ring, but didn't take it out of the box.

   "Is that a yes?"

   "Can it be a maybe?"

   "No."

   Her eyebrows arched.

   "The anticipation is killing me."

   He hadn't planned to push her, but as it turned out, he had to. A yes meant he had more to say before they told her family. A maybe meant he had to decide, again, whether or not to tell her the rest, and maybe shift in front of her if she didn't believe him. Although the decision could be made for him. He could feel the stress building and his hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly.

   "I guess if you're okay with a long engagement…"

   "I was hoping to take you to Florida with me in February when I go to spring training, and we'll have to be married to live together."

   She gasped.

   "Well, if we want to keep my image squeaky clean. You know how role models have to avoid controversy. It's a, you know, kind of moral thing to some people." Jesus, Jason. You're babbling. Get a grip.

   "Oh." Now she seemed even more stunned. "I, um… That's so fast. Are you sure? I mean, how long is spring training? A couple of weeks?"

   "No. A couple of months."

   She groaned. "Damn. That's a long time to be apart. I'd miss you like crazy."

   "Tell me about it."

   She shrugged. "I don't know what to say."

   "Say yes."

   She giggled, but it sounded like a nervous giggle. Now what should he do? Maybe it was a sign. If she couldn't handle a fast wedding, maybe she wasn't ready for the rest of it.

   "I guess you need time to think, after all." He reached for the ring.

   She swiveled away from him, holding the box out of reach.

   "Oh, no you don't. No Indian gimmees."

   He laughed. "Well, are we going to sit in this car all day, or are you going to put it on?"

   She sighed. "If I put this on, we'll have a lot of questions to answer. Can you handle that?"

   He nodded. If she puts it on, I'll have a lot of explaining to do. Why the hell didn't I wait?

   "I love you, Merry."

   She plucked the ring from the box and slid it onto her ring finger. Stretching her arm out in front of her, she admired it and grinned. "It's gorgeous."

   Relief washed over him, but it didn't last long. Now he should tell her the rest.

   She leaned over and kissed him. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her back for a longer, deeper kiss that he hoped would convince her she'd made the right choice—no matter what.

   "I love you," she whispered.

   "Good. Hold that thought, because I have to tell you something about myself that you deserve to know if you're going to be my wife."

   "Oh? What is it?"

   "How much time do we have?"

   Her expression turned to concern and she checked her watch. "We're supposed to arrive in five minutes."

   "Five minutes? I thought we had longer than that. When did you say we'd get there?"

   "Eight o'clock."

   "Oh. I thought it was eight-thirty for some reason."

   "Well, it was, but I decided to move it up a bit. I thought I'd try a new recipe and wanted to give myself extra time."

   "In that case, the rest of this conversation will have to wait."

   "You're kidding!"

   "No, I think it's best."

   "Wait a minute. You ask me to marry you. I accept. Then you tell me there's something I have to know about you. And now you won't tell me what it is?"

   Jason leaned back against the seat and frowned. Damn. She's right. She'd probably go crazy all day if he didn't tell her something.

   "What is it? You owe the Mafia money? You murdered your ex-girlfriend? Your AIDS test was negative, but you have syphilis? What?"

   "Look, it's nothing bad, all right? Think of it like this: I'm really Superman, and you only know the Clark Kent version of me."

   After a long pregnant pause, she burst out laughing. Between Jason's extreme embarrassment, her waffling, and the prior stress of proposing taking its toll on his emotions, he felt himself beginning to shift. No, no! Not now!

   The next thing he knew, his talons gripped the steering wheel and his wings flapped wildly.

   Merry screamed, jumped out of the car, and darted between the buildings, out of sight.

   Fuck! If only he were out of the car. Peregrine falcons could fly up to two hundred miles an hour, and he could track her down before she reached her family. But try as he might, he couldn't shift back.

"MERRY!" JASON'S VOICE YELLED FROM OUTSIDE AS HE pounded on her father's front door for the third time. "Merry, come to the door. We have to talk."

   She held onto her younger brother's arm in a death grip. "No. Don't answer it."

   "But it's Jason. Your boyfriend. Remember him?"

   Do I? Not really.

   He pounded again. "I'm not going away until you talk to me, Merry."

   Matt strained to reach the doorknob. "Just because you had a fight doesn't mean—"

   "I'm not opening that door until you're gone," she said to her brother.

   Jason knocked again. "At least let me give you your purse. You might need your inhaler."

   "See, Merry? He's trying to be nice. At least talk to him."

   She hissed in her brother's ear, "I will not speak to him with an audience. Leave or I'll never open it." She waited an anxious, silent minute. At last, Matt skulked out of the living room. Whew.

   Opening the door, Merry snuck around it and stood on the stoop, lost for words. Jason leaned against her doorframe with the saddest, most pathetic expression she'd ever seen. The nurturer in her wanted to rush into his arms and comfort him. Then she remembered she didn't know this man—if he was a man. Never having been exposed to anything so bizarre in her life—except a vampire father and a haunted apartment building—all she could think of to do was protect herself. Protect her family. How could she expose them to… what? A magician? Shaman? Some kind of weird animal spirit possession?

   He reached out to her. She hesitated, then walked into his arms and started to shake.

   "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

   She couldn't speak, so she shook her head vehemently.

   "I'm—I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out like that."

   "Find out what? I don't even know what I just saw. Are you some kind of magician?"

   "I'm a shapeshifter."

   "A shape-who?"

   "Shapeshifter. You may have heard of us in Native American legends. But they're not just legends. We exist, and my alternate form is a falcon."

   She reached for the railing. "I have to sit down."

   "Here, let me help you." He supported her forearm as she lowered herself to sit on the top step, then he sat next to her.

   "I wouldn't have believed you if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Do you shift into any other shapes?"

   "No. Only a peregrine falcon."

   "Why did you wait this long to tell me?"

   "I was afraid of losing you."

   "But you asked me to marry you. When were you planning to tell me?"

   "Merry, I screwed up. I should have told you before I proposed. I thought we had more time than we did. I never should have come with you for Thanksgiving. Stress and the full moon affect shifters."

   "How?"

   "It's harder to resist the desire to shift under stress. You've heard of the fight or flight response, right?"

   "Yes."

   "Well, my tendency is for…"

   "Flight," she finished for him.

   "That's right. Listen, I—I think it's better if I just go home. I can come back and get you when you're—"

   "No. I'll ask my dad or Matt to take me home. I need to think."

   He offered a sad smile. "I understand, but I'm glad you think of Boston as your home now."

   "Yeah," she murmured absently. "I worked too hard to get out of Schooner. I, uh… I'd better get back inside."

   He helped her up. "You know I'm head over heels in love with you, don't you? That I'm not dangerous or crazy… that I'll be right there waiting for you when you get back."

   She nodded, opened the door, and he handed over her bag.

   As she took it, she said, "Thanks. It was sweet of you to think of my inhaler. I'm surprised I didn't need it half an hour ago."

Jason called his manager from the road. He was a young, single guy, so maybe he wasn't all tied up with a big family Thanksgiving dinner. Fortunately, he answered his phone.

"Hey, Jason! What's up?"

   "Hi Brian, I need to find a batting cage and beat the shit out of some balls."

   "Whoa, that doesn't sound good. Did something happen?"

   "Yeah, but it's hard to talk about."

   "What's her name?"

   Stunned, Jason hesitated, then asked, "How'd you know this has to do with a woman?"

   "It always does."

   He sighed. "Look, I just need to get some aggression out and I'll be fine. I figured you might be able to call around for me and see if there's a place open or willing to open, even though it's Thanksgiving Day."

   "Sure, buddy. Let me call some of my contacts and get back to you."

   "Thanks, Brian. I owe you."

   "Just give us a winning season and call it even."

   Yeah, right. If Merry doesn't come around I'm fucked… and not in a good way.

Merry had taken the ring and tucked it into the zippered compartment of her purse. She would give it back, of course… or not, depending upon her decision. So many conflicting thoughts and feelings warred inside of her. Her family hadn't seen it. She managed to hide it in her bra before she walked into the house, but she didn't want to take a chance of losing it.

   All day her family had asked what was wrong. Thank goodness her father had been in the shower when Jason showed up and didn't know anything about it. She swore Matthew to secrecy with the threat of instant death if he breathed a word of it. So all anyone knew for sure was that she seemed more moody than usual. If anyone pushed it, she could always blame it on PMS again, but thankfully no one did. Now that she was on the seasonal pill, that would be a fib, and she was a lousy liar.

   All day she'd been going through the motions woodenly. Even during the meal and the football game, all she could think about was what had happened in Jason's car. Did it really happen?

   Before she moved to Boston, she was bored. Now boredom was beginning to look really attractive. However, she was not moving back to Rhode Island. Not, not, not!

   At last all the guests had gone and her father cornered her in the kitchen. "You seem so preoccupied, Merry. What's wrong? Did Falco break your heart?"

   She exhaled, defeated. "Not really."

   He balled his fists. "I knew it! Merry, I want you to come home. You're far too young and impressionable to live alone in a big city."

   "I'm not alone," she protested. "I have Roz and I've made several friends in my building, plus Jason didn't break my heart. He just—surprised me." The ring. Maybe if I see the ring again I'll know I didn't dream up the whole thing.

   "Surprised you how?"

   Merry knew that if she didn't give her father some kind of explanation, he'd harp on her about coming home until he either drove her crazy or talked her into it.

   She trudged to where she'd left her purse, saying, "I'll be right back."

   In her old bedroom, she opened the zippered compartment and fished around. When she didn't feel cool metal, she panicked. The ring! It's gone!

   She turned it upside down and dumped the contents on her bed. No ring fell out. How could this happen? Oh, lord. I'm losing it. I just know I am.