The Older Woman (13 page)

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” another voice said. “This is none of our business. We should
not
be doing this—”

“Excuse me!” the first voice called loudly, and he looked around.

“Hi,” she said. “You’re Kate’s friend, right?” she asked, but she didn’t give him a chance to answer. “She’s having a little…get-together—steaks on the grill kind of thing—this evening. Can you come?”

Slick, he thought. He knew damn well she was making it up as she went along, but she got the invitation out and never once did she say it was Meehan’s idea. He strongly suspected that Meehan didn’t have a clue that she was entertaining this evening.

“Sure,” he said, anyway. “What time?” He wanted to go so he could see what she was going to do to them, if nothing else.

“Six o’clock. Sharp,” the sister who had to be Grace, the bossy one, said.

“Okay,” he said. “Want me to bring anything?”

“Just

yourself.”

“I can handle that,” he said, and she forced a smile. He went back to washing the car.

“Kate is going to kill you, you know that,” he heard the sister who must be timid Gwen say.

“Will you stop worrying? If she won’t tell us what’s going on, it falls on us to find out the best way we can.”

“Yes, well, I hope you like the color green—because she’s going to turn all three of us into frogs.”

Doyle laughed softly to himself. This was going to be so good. Or bad. Clearly, the sisters thought they had cause for alarm where he and Meehan were concerned, and he couldn’t help but feel encouraged. Maybe it was more than just Arley seeing them
not
dancing. Maybe Meehan had said something—protested too much.

He kept working on Mrs. Bee’s car, feeling the eyes on him from the row of windows at the back of Meehan’s house. He was good at that—feeling eyes—thanks to all his peacekeeping deployments to places that were anything but peaceful. Coyote Jane was probably looking out the window, too.

He was tired when he finished, from the unaccustomed exertion and from the lack of sleep. He went inside and showered, then opted for a short nap under the heated throw before he went to the impromptu get-together next door. He was looking forward to seeing Meehan—if she didn’t find out what her sisters had planned and make a run for it.

He woke up to a soft knock on the door. He had been sleeping so soundly it took him a moment to orient himself.

“In,” he said when the knock sounded again. He had been reasonably comfortable with the throw over his legs, and he was in no hurry to make things hurt. He expected to see Mrs. Bee, but Meehan stepped through the doorway.

“I understand I’ve been stood up,” she said.

With considerable effort he sat on the side of the bed. “Stood up?”

“The steaks are on the grill and no Doyle. I’m willing to accept that you might stand
me
up, but you wouldn’t miss a steak—so I figured I’d come and see—especially after I heard you’d been washing cars. So. How bad are your legs hurting?”

“Not bad,” he said.

“You are such a liar,” she said in exasperation, and he couldn’t keep from smiling.

“Okay. Bad. For a while. They’re pretty good at the moment, though.”

“So are you up for the inquisition?”

“Are

you?”

“No—I feel like an idiot. I’m too old for this—but I guess I need your help. If you can come over and make an appearance—just long enough to show them there is absolutely nothing going on between you and me, I’d appreciate it. You’ll get a steak out of it, and I’ll get some peace and quiet. Okay?”

He was looking at her, thinking how pretty she looked and about taking the pins out of her hair and letting it fall down. There was no denying it. Her pants were by no means as safe as he’d led her to believe.

“Doyle?” she prompted.

“Lead the way,” he said. “But not too fast.”

“You understand the plan,” she said as he unplugged the throw and got up from the bed.

“Affirmative. There is absolutely nothing between us.”

“And you’ll convince my sisters.”

“How am I going to do that?”

“Just be…normal. You know…indifferent.”

Of all the things he might have been in her presence lately, “indifferent” wasn’t one of them, but he didn’t say so.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I just stayed here? And they think I really did stand you up?”

“No,” she said pointedly. “Your not showing up would just put blood in the water. My sisters travel in a pack, and they think I’m getting into something with the potential for a lot of trouble and heartache. Believe me, they never give up.”

“Can’t you just rip them a new one?”

“That’s Plan B—I promised our mother I’d do what I could to keep the peace.”

“Got your work cut out for you, huh?” he said.

She ignored his remark. “Plan A is simply letting them see us together. Then they can see for themselves that I’m not trying to hide anything, and they’ll go run somebody else’s life.”

“Works for me,” he said.

“Good.”

“I get the steak either way, though,” he said, and she grinned.

“Deal,”

she

said.

“Should I apologize?” she asked as they crossed the yard.

“For

what?”

“For whatever my sisters said to you. I realize they can be less than subtle.”

“Nobody said anything worth an apology,” he said, resting for a moment before he tried walking again.

She gave a sharp sigh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. You’re one of my
patients,
and I’m dragging you over here when you should be resting.”

“I’m not a patient, I’m a friend. And I can rest anywhere. So do they have husbands—the sisters?”

“Yes.”

“Where

are

they?”

“Hiding if they know what’s good for them.”

He got a whiff of the steaks on the charcoal grill. “Man, that smells good.”

Good enough to entice him into walking again.

“You look nice,” he said as he hobbled along. “What?” he added, because of her extremely incredulous look.

“You can’t say things like that!” she whispered. “I told you, they think something is going on!”

“Well, did they hear me? No. I don’t think it would matter if they did.”

“And I don’t think you understand this situation.”

“Sure I do. What’s not to understand? Your sisters travel in a pack, and they think you’re doing the dirty-dirty with me. You don’t want them to, and they’re not about to butt out, so you’re going to implement Plan A—when you’d really rather lock and load. Unfortunately, your mama put it on your shoulders to keep the peace and you don’t feel like you can tell them where to park it no matter how bad you want to, so you’re stuck with making nice. My personal opinion is that what you need here is a good slash-andburn policy, so that you can put an end to this kind of meddling once and for all—but, what do I know? I couldn’t handle my female relatives, either. This is your operation all the way, and I got it. No problem.”

She looked at him doubtfully.

“I got it, I got it,” he assured her.

She sighed again. Clearly, she really was bothered about all this.

All three sisters were on the alert and waiting for him to reach the patio.

“You’ve met my sisters,” Meehan said when they were close enough, holding out a hand in their direction.

“Not exactly,” he answered truthfully.

“Well, this is Grace,” she said, indicating the tall one he had already guessed was the bossy one. “This is Gwen and Arley. And Scottie you know.”

He hadn’t realized the kid was on the premises. “Hey, buddy. How’s it going?

You got any more rocks?”

To his surprise the boy ran to him, nearly bowling him over with an enthusiastic hug to the knees.

“This is Bugs,” Scottie told his aunts. “He doesn’t wait for the plane to land—

come on, come on, Bugs!” he said, pulling Doyle by his free hand. “Come and see!”

Doyle let himself be taken into the house to the same couch he’d spent the night on, and he immediately made a mental note not to say anything about
that.

In any event, it seemed as good a place as any for him to be “indifferent.” The couch was in the traffic pattern from the patio to the kitchen. The sisters walked back and forth, all three of them keeping their sights on him as if they thought he might make off with the silverware. He was not in what he would call a target-rich environment. There was only one. Him.

Scottie didn’t have his rocks with him this time; he had books. A
lot
of books. Doyle ended up sitting with a cat under one arm and a boy under the other, and the entire stack of books on his lap. Meehan brought him a footstool, and Grace brought him a glass of iced tea. Arley frowned—and Gwen cut her finger on something lethal in the kitchen.

He read. And read. By the third book, two-thirds of the couch potatoes were fast asleep.

“I’ll take those,” Meehan said, lifting the books off his knees. “And that,” she said of Scottie.

“He’s all right. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll just move him to the other end so he can stretch out. The steaks are almost ready.”

“Great,” he said, taking advantage of the opportunity to watch her while she put Scottie into a more restful position on the couch. The boy didn’t wake.

“Big day, I guess,” Doyle said, nodding in Scottie’s direction.

“Are you all right?” Meehan asked.

“Who me? I’m fine. Why?”

“I thought maybe you had a big day, too.”

“I washed a car. Period.”

“I didn’t know you were going to have to baby-sit again.”

He looked into her eyes, just to see if she’d let him. She did—briefly.

“He’s not any trouble.”

“I wish his father felt that way,” she said.

“So where is his father?” he asked. Scottie wasn’t the first little kid he’d seen starved for male attention.

“With his new girlfriend.”

“We have a problem, Kate,” Grace called from the patio.

“There’s my cue,” she said wearily. “It can’t be Gwen—she’s run out of fingers.”

“Are you getting the third degree out there?” he asked.

“You bet,” she assured him. She walked off to see what Grace wanted, and Arley almost immediately took her place. She sat down on the coffee table and looked at him a long time before she said anything. He had thought the first time he saw her that she looked like a younger version of Meehan. He still did. There was something missing in the eyes, though. A lot of something missing.

“So,” she said finally. “Is it serious?”

“Is what serious?” he asked, deciding to make The Handful work at it.

“This thing between you and Kate,” she said.

“It’s not serious,” he said.
Yet.

“That’s not what she says.”

“No?”

“You know, you’re really not her type,” she said, completely changing directions.

“Correct,” he said, because she’d definitely gotten that right. He’d been all over the world, and about all he had to show for it was a bunch of chewing gum stickers—

pictures of naked women that came in nickel packs of chewing gum the Balkan locals sold to peacekeeping soldiers to help make ends meet. It would be a
long
time before he’d be running around with a bag of gourmet bagels and driving an expensive silver car. If ever.

The cat got up and immediately lay down again, its head now resting conveniently under his fingers. He gave it a token scratch between the ears and once again he could feel it purring.

“Are you the reason she dumped Paul?” Arley asked, he thought, more to see if she could get to him than because she actually wanted to know.

“Don’t think so. I don’t even know who Paul is.”

“Well, he was the love of her life until a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, you mean the real estate guy. No. I’m not the reason.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I can’t help that. So what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. What about this guy you think you love with all your heart.”

Her eyes flashed—and for a moment he thought she was going to hit him with something.

“
That
is none of your business.”

He smiled. “Oh, I see. Dishing it out is your thing.”

She got up from the coffee table and left. Grace almost immediately took up the slack. Grace didn’t look like Meehan. At all. She had the same air of competence, but that was about it. This woman was born to command. She couldn’t be bothered with lipstick or shaving her legs, and Calvin “Bugs” Doyle had her full attention.

“Has everybody abandoned you?” she asked. She sat in the nearest chair.

“No, I’m fine,” he said. “How’s Gwen doing?”

“Oh, she’s gotten a new wound. Some people have no business around sharp objects. So. You’re Kate’s friend.”

“Yes,” he answered truthfully.

“And?”

“And…whatever else I am is none of your business,” he said easily. “To tell you the truth, I’m a little surprised you think so.”

“She’s my sister. And she hasn’t had the best judgment when it comes to men.”

“People usually believe what the people they love tell them—until they have good reason not to, don’t you think? It’s got nothing to do with judgment.”

“You have a very simplistic way of looking at a very complicated situation,” she said.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning Kate has…baggage. Things someone like you wouldn’t want to have to deal with.”

“Someone like me? I know about the ex-husband, Grace. I know about the real estate guy. And I know about the cancer,” he said.

She stared at him, clearly surprised that she didn’t have the upper hand here. He didn’t think she was used to it, and he was definitely sure she didn’t like it.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said after a moment. “You and Gwen and Arley have got the cart way before the horse. Right now Kate’s a friend. Period. But whichever way it goes, I don’t think you’re going to have much to say about it.”

Scottie stirred on the couch and turned over. Gwen burst through the door carrying a platter of steaks that was clearly too hot to handle.

“Too many mosquitoes to eat outside!” she said on the run. “Come on, everybody!”