The Marriage Recipe (14 page)

Bruce sipped his drink. “I don't know. You've always had the hots for the girl and she's back in town. You tell me what's going on.”

“Her stay is only temporary,” Colin hedged.

Bruce was not to be daunted. “Sounds ideal. That's usually about the perfect relationship length for you.” Bruce pointed a forefinger at Colin as if to say
Gotcha.

“Ha.” Colin faked a laugh. “Hardly.”

“Shall I name some of them? Right before I met Christina, there was…” He snapped his fingers. “Gina, I think. Then that Miss Indiana. I'm sure you remember that New Year's Eve fiasco. I still can't keep count of all your revolving-door relationships.”

“You are such a card. See me laugh,” Colin said, swallowing some of the corned beef. He wasn't sure what the country-club chefs did, but the meat here was never tough and always tender.

“I'm being serious. Nothing or no one sticks to you.”

“Only because I haven't wanted anything or anyone to stick. Weren't you always the one in college who described women like running shoes? You try them on, but since you only need one good pair, you find the keeper.”

“Not exactly my quote, but close enough,” Bruce said. “So I didn't date seriously until I met Christina. I didn't lead anyone on.”

“We're two lawyers whose conversation is about to go in endless circles,” Colin protested. “As for Rachel, she's returning to New York once her case settles. Even if we can't get her out of her noncompete, she can work anywhere after six months. That's the maximum she'll be here until she flies the coop again. She's a big-city girl now. No more Podunkville for her.”

“You still like her, don't you?” Bruce said, savoring another sip of Scotch.

“Terribly,” Colin admitted, not telling Bruce that his feelings for Rachel already went beyond that. “I thought I could be professional, but I'm more attracted to her now than I was in high school. Especially since…”

“Since what? Don't stop.” Bruce waved his fork, prodding Colin to finish his sentence.

“I learned the truth the other night. She and I talked. You were right. She never liked you. It was always me who she preferred.”

“I knew it,” Bruce said triumphantly. Then he put another bite of potatoes in his mouth and digested the implications of Colin's words. “How did you find this out?”

“She told me.”

“Yeah, you said that. What was the impetus behind the conversation?”

“I took her to dinner. Flew her to Chicago. The River Club. She wanted to clear the air. She didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea or playing matchmaker. We both realized we'd been thinking the wrong things all these years.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair. “So this is where it gets complicated. She liked you—you liked her—neither of you knew it. And now that you've cleared the air…” Bruce paused for a second as Colin nodded in confirmation. “Now both of you have these feelings that haven't changed. If anything else, they're stronger because you're consenting adults.”

“And she's not staying and I'm not leaving. Kind of ruins anything before it starts. I don't want a one-night or two-week stand thing with her. She's worth much more than that.”

Bruce set his napkin on the edge of the table. “You know, I never thought I'd see this day again.”

Colin's brow creased. “You're not making sense. St. Patrick's Day comes every year.”

“Yeah, but you being tortured by a woman doesn't. You were always mooning over Rachel. You pined for her. And she's back, and you're moping again. You've got it pretty bad. You've never been like this over anyone else.”

“And it sucks,” Colin said, not brothering to disagree. “None of this is pleasant at all. My stomach's in knots. I'm spouting clichés.” He winced.

“I wish I knew what to tell you,” Bruce said. He'd managed to clean his plate.

Colin glanced down. Half his food remained. He'd lost his appetite. “I don't think there are any answers. I think I solve her legal problems and let her go. End of story.”

“Seems a shame,” Bruce said.

“Star-crossed lovers. Only we aren't lovers. Dramatic irony or something like that. I only got a C in English, but I understand my role in this. Whoever would have thought that?” He never had, that was for sure.

“On a happier note, you're closer than ever to getting your plane,” Bruce pointed out.

Owning his own plane. His huge dream. Colin focused on that. “And trust me, I'm counting down the days. We hear we take delivery Monday, March 31. The company reps are flying it in and staying for two days of hands-on training.”

“I want to be one of the first guests to go up with you—once you know what you are doing,” Bruce declared, staking his claim.

“Absolutely.” Colin nodded. Bruce had always supported Colin's flying habit, so he didn't correct Bruce and tell him he was already certified on the aircraft, which was why they'd chosen it. “We've just about ironed out our usage agreement. Accommodating four ownership schedules is a little tricky, but we're pretty close.”

“I guess you have to make it equitable.”

“That plus whoever flies more should, logically, pay more. That's probably me. I'm the only single one in the group. I'll use the plane a lot.”

“You could always fly to New York and visit Rachel,” Bruce suggested.

Colin pushed his plate aside, giving up on dinner entirely. “She already dismissed that idea,” Colin replied. “It's like New York is her territory and she's afraid of trespassers.”

“Someone else will come along,” Bruce said, although both men knew the words really weren't any kind of consolation.

“I never thought I was missing anything until Rachel came home,” Colin said as the waiter whisked his plate away, then returned a few moments later with a carryout box. “Both she and I acknowledge there's something between us here, but exploring it would be awkward. Her family and mine go too far back. It would be too weird to see each other after everything ended. She's already baking my mom coconut cake with real coconut. Like, she has to break the shell open to get the meat out.”

“Coconut?” Bruce's eyes gleamed. “That's one of my favorites.”

“Well, Rachel is bringing a cake to brunch on Sunday, so you better move to get a slice and tell your wife. Rachel's stuff will go fast. You snooze and you'll lose.”

“I'll make sure I'm first in line.” He laughed at Colin's expression. “Second. Right behind you.”

The waiter approached and Bruce waved off the offer of dessert. “Just the check, please.”

“She'll be baking those cakes all week. She was home resting today. I'm worried about her. She looked tired.”

“So stop by the diner and help her out. I'm sure there's something you can do.”

Colin thought back to baking the cupcakes. “Not certain that's wise,” he said, recalling the kiss. Pleasurable, yes, but not a smart idea if they were to remain “just friends.”

“Well, keep me posted on both your love life and her case. If I can help out with either, let me know.”

“Thanks…I think.”

Bruce took the leather holder from the waiter. “I'll buy this round. You get the next,” he told Colin.

“Okay.” Colin replied, reciprocating Bruce's grin. The country club sent the law firm a bill at the end of the month. Each partner had a generous food allowance, so Lancaster and Morris was really the one paying for dinner. Colin felt little guilt over the entitlement; he and Bruce had discussed legal business, after all.

Within the next ten minutes, Colin found himself driving home. He parked his car in the garage of his ranch house and entered. The place was depressingly silent. Normally, he didn't mind, but the idea struck him that maybe he ought to get a cat. Fish, perhaps. Those were pretty simple to care for. Just toss in a few fish flakes once a day and keep the water pH regulated. At least there'd be something waiting for him.

He clicked on the plasma TV. The sounds of a basketball game flooded the room and chased away the ensuing doldrums.

He kicked off his shoes and settled down on the couch. She'd gotten under his skin, darn it. She was all he thought about. Talking about Rachel to Bruce had helped, but the conversation still hadn't allowed Colin to shed his own stress, which was increasing daily. He'd work out for at least two hours tomorrow, but doubted that the karate he'd practice or the weights he'd lift would clear his mind or soothe his soul.

Colin had always been a problem solver. He liked being a detective, finding solutions to things others missed.

With Rachel, he was drawing a complete blank.

“So, are you glad you came?” Heather asked about fifteen minutes into the home-jewelry party Rachel had agreed to attend.

“Yes, you were right,” Rachel admitted to her friend. She lifted a glass of wine as she wove her way through Kristin's kitchen and stopped at a table covered with food. “I'm glad you dragged me to this. I thought it would be…Well, I was wrong.”

“Of course you were.” Heather laughed. “These home parties aren't cheesy. They're a fun excuse to get together, do a little shopping and eat a lot.”

“I could do without the eating part,” Rachel said, snagging a celery stick and taking a bite. “I've put on two pounds since I came home. I'm not sure why. I used to work at a restaurant and eat pasta all the time.”

“You're stressed,” Heather said knowingly. “I read that tension can add ten pounds. Something to do with the adrenal gland.”

“Stressed is just desserts spelled backward,” Rachel said.

“Clever. In my case, it's all baby weight. In your case, it's simply nerves. How many coconuts did you do?”

“Way too many.” Rachel laughed. “The guy at the supermarket in Batesville told me I was loco. I bought every coconut they had and still needed to drive into Greensburg for the rest. It's not like the food distributors around here stock coconuts in the quantity I required.”

“I just use the flaked stuff in that blue package.” Heather began to fill her plate with a sample of everything from chips and dips to brownies. “I don't know how you managed. How do you even crack one?”

“You drill a hole, drain the milk and then bake the shell. That makes it easier to crack when you hit it with a mallet. Then you scoop out the inside.”

“So are you done?” Heather asked.

“I wish. I still have a lot to do before Saturday. My grandmother took over baking some of the regular diner staples this week. That's helped out. I'm still baking five-dozen bear claws a day, though. She's not about to pick those anytime soon. Too sticky. Although I modified her recipe. More taste and less mess.”

Heather added carrot sticks to her plate. “You need to load up and not just eat one thing at a time,” she told Rachel.

“I'm good,” Rachel answered. Meaning she was fine on food. Heather had deliberately misconstrued her words.

“I'm not so sure about that, but I bet I know someone who'd like to find out.”

“Don't go there,” Rachel warned. “Not where Kristin could overhear anything you say.”

“What—is there some good gossip being spilled over here?” Kristin asked as she moved to add more crackers to a tray.

“Colin's still got a crush on Rachel,” Heather announced.

Rachel momentarily closed her eyes as her jaw dropped open. “Heather!”

“It's okay. We've all known that. That's old news,” Kristin said, as if that made everything better.

Rachel wished the floor would open up and swallow her. Unfortunately, it was too early to bow out gracefully from the party and go home. “Great. Everyone in town's probably been talking about me.”

“Yeah, and most of them are here,” Heather teased.

“And I wasn't coming to this party tonight. Why did I change my mind?” Rachel asked. She reached for a small piece of brownie and popped the chocolate in her mouth. Yep, stress made you eat. Big-time.

“Ah, don't let Heather here scare you away,” Kristin teased. “You know we can't take her anywhere. Besides, my mother's the busybody. She's been raving for a week about the Easter cake you're bringing Sunday. I think she wants to hook you up with my brother just so he doesn't starve. The man can't cook a bit.”

Rachel remembered the incident with the flour, and her face heated. Kristin didn't seem to notice as she continued, “Mom's the one you have to worry about, so I would try to avoid sitting by her.”

Kristin finished loading the cracker tray. “I myself believe my brother's an idiot and any woman would be a fool to take him on. Here, let me get you some more wine. You're just about empty. If this is only your first glass, you definitely need a refill.”

Kristin took Rachel's glass and made away with it, empty cracker box in her other hand. “I'm going to kill you later,” Rachel promised Heather.

Heather had the gall to smirk. “No, you won't. You love me too much and have missed getting grief from people who care about you. Your life in New York has been stodgy. I'm making it my mission to liven it up. Besides, Kristin's married to a shrink. She's using reverse psychology on her brother and you. I use the technique on Keith all the time. Works wonders.”

“Great.” Rachel's sarcasm was obvious.

At that moment a group of five girls, two of them twins, raced into the room and grabbed plates. “Mom, she's butting!” one of them shouted.

“Cut it out and take turns!” Kristin hollered.

“I am so not ready for this next phase of my life,” Rachel said as one of the young girls accidentally jostled her.

Heather grinned at Rachel's discomfort. She'd left Erin at home with her husband, who was probably enjoying the semifreedom. “Sure you are. Now, let's go look at the jewelry. Moms like the reasonable stuff since grimy little hands grab it all the time. This company guarantees everything. I've returned one or two things and never had a problem.”

“We're not going to play any of those silly games, are we?” Rachel asked, succumbing and taking a plate and covering it with veggies.

“That's at the basket party. Beware, you get on our party circuit and you'll get hit up for candles, too. Now, those you can really use. Light a few and let the magic happen.”

“I'm going to remove your entrails. I'm trained to use knives. I know how to do it. You should see me bone a chicken,” Rachel said.

“So not listening,” Heather chanted, leading the way into the large family room. Rachel found herself sitting between Heather and Colin's mother as the home-party lady began displaying her wares. Kristin brought Rachel a refilled glass of wine and Rachel sipped the liquid gratefully.

She knew most of the people present, but others were more recent Morrisville transplants. All but Rachel were married, yet no one seemed to mind or care about Rachel's single status. Even better, no one mentioned Colin or fixing her up with a brother or some divorcé they knew at work.

She hadn't socialized exclusively with women, if you didn't count her mother and grandmother, in ages. She'd never spent much time with Marco's sisters. They'd liked her, but they hadn't made much of an effort to do things with their future sister-in-law.
And they were to be my bridesmaids,
Rachel realized ruefully. Funny how she was more comfortable with the people from Morrisville, Indiana, who thought rings from some home-party catalog were pretty high-fashion stuff.

Rachel studied the various rings on display, which were at least made with fourteen-carat gold. Suddenly, one caught her attention. The ring was woven gold in a simple floral design, but Rachel fell instantly in love with both the ring and its forty-dollar price tag.

Why not,
she said to herself. The jewelry from Marco that she hadn't sold she'd put in her mother's safe-deposit box. She had no idea what to do with the various pieces, which were gaudy and worth hundreds. She also had no place to wear them and out of sight was out of mind.

“You should get that,” Heather said as Rachel tried the display model on her left hand.

“I don't know. It's not like I wear jewelry when I bake. I'm also trying to save up. It seems like too much of an indulgence. I'm getting used to my hand being bare again,” Rachel said as her second thoughts started.

“Live a little,” Heather encouraged her. “Tell you what. Put that ring on my ticket and I'll buy half. Consider it an early birthday present.”

“Oh, no,” Rachel said, shaking her head as she realized the implications. “You are not getting me a present or throwing me a party.”

“Never said that,” Heather responded as she tried on a necklace.

“Maybe not, but I know you,” Rachel insisted. “I'm turning thirty. You would do something like that.”

“I might. Thirty is a milestone,” Heather admitted with a guilty expression. “I've been thinking about hosting a small gathering around April 15.”

“Don't,” Rachel warned. “I'm not in a partying mood.”

“Fine,” Heather said, removing the necklace and reaching for another one. “But no matter what, you are purchasing that ring.”

In the end, Rachel caved and bought the ring. However, she paid for her only item herself. “You should receive your purchase in about three weeks,” the party consultant said as she handed Rachel her receipt.

“Thanks.” Rachel stood. Checkout was in the dining room and she'd just survived her first American home-sales party unscathed. Already someone else waited behind Rachel to order the items she'd selected.

“Hey, Rachel,” Kristin called into the room. “Would you be able to take Mom home? She doesn't drive at night and I'm not going to be able to get out of here for a while yet.”

“Sure,” Rachel agreed. “Do you want me to take her now?”

“Whenever you're leaving is fine. No hurry,” Kristin replied.

Less then ten minutes later, Rachel drove Loretta Morris home. She pulled into the Morris driveway, right behind a silver Aura.

“Oh, Colin's here. He must have come to see his father. They're working on a case together. You'll have to step inside and say hello.”

Rachel recognized she was being set up, but before she could decline, Loretta was already out the passenger door and halfway up the walk. The motion sensors caught her movements and light flooded the yard.

“Mom? Is that you?” Colin walked through the front door and onto the porch. “Hi, Rachel. What are you doing here? Mom, I thought I was to pick you up if you wanted to leave early.”

“With the price of gas what it is, that would be silly,” Loretta said, pointing. “Rachel was driving this way. She lives right next door, you know.”

“How well I do.” Colin stepped off the porch and gave his mother a kiss as she passed by. He walked over to where Rachel waited, protected only by her driver's door.

“I think we've been set up,” she said.

The corners of Colin's lips inched upward into a grin. “Looks like. But it's okay. I needed to talk with you anyway. Running into you makes things convenient. Marco's attorneys answered my letter. I was going to call you tomorrow and arrange a meeting so we could discuss their response and what to send back to them.”

A tremor of fear gripped her. “Is it bad?”

“It's not what we'd hoped for, but certainly not the end of the world,” Colin said easily, as if he had few worries about dealing with her case.

“It's nerve-racking for me,” she admitted.

“I understand. That's the hard thing about negotiations. You have to be patient. You come from opposite ends and meet somewhere in the middle. We'll end up where we want. Trust me.”

Somehow, she did. He was a professional and he wouldn't steer her wrong. He was on her side. She nodded.

“So you had fun tonight?” he asked.

The words slipped out. “I bought a ring.”

“Ah. Fingers feeling a little naked.”

She shook her head, the desire for companionship overriding her urge to leave. “I'm not sure if I was simply caught up in the moment or what, but I really like the ring. The party lady said I'd receive it in about three weeks. I hope I still want it then.”

He was more confident. “You will. Can I ask how much you spent?”

“Forty. Plus tax. Shipping. So it was about forty-six something altogether. I probably shouldn't have.”

He chuckled. “An occasional urge to be irresponsible is normal. I'm glad you let go a little. This whole thing with Marco and moving home has you uptight. You are feeling better than yesterday, right?”

She nodded and stepped out from behind her door. “Absolutely. My grandmother's taking on some of the baking this week to help out. Tomorrow's going to be a big day, as is Thursday. Everyone's going to church Friday, since it's Good Friday, so I'm doing all the icing that day. Pickup is Saturday. The diner will be crazy.”

“So should we talk about the case now?” He glanced at his illuminated watch. “It's only nine. When are you due at the diner?”

“Actually, I'm off. Kim banned me from arriving until one. I left enough bear claws for everyone to get their fix.”

“So you don't have to turn in right away.” He'd edged closer to her.

“No, I'm all right. We could talk now if that's what you're suggesting. That might be a good idea, because I doubt I could sleep worrying about what's in that letter they sent.”

“Then let's get out of here and head over to my place. I brought your file home so I could work on it tonight.”