The Penalty Box (40 page)

“Me, too.” The serious look in Tuck's eyes was gone, replaced by an expression of sheer relief, even happiness. It was a look Katie had seen on his face all too rarely. The emotion of the moment seemed too much for Tuck as he backed out of the doorway. “I love you, Aunt Katie,” he mumbled.

Katie let her tears fall. “I love you, too, honey,” she whispered fiercely.

 

 

The rest of
the spring and summer passed in a blur. Soon it was time for Katie and Tuck to return to Fallowfield so she could get him enrolled in school and prepare herself for re-immersion into academia. She was excited, not only about returning to her own home and the classroom, but about creating a life for herself and Tuck. She knew it would be hard at first, but Katie never shied from a challenge—except one.

She was touched when Paul called to ask her and Tuck to come down to the Penalty Box for lunch so he could say good-bye. As he'd promised, he'd kept in touch with Tuck once the school year ended, taking him out for the occasional ice cream or movie. Of all the people Tuck was leaving behind, Katie knew it was Paul he'd miss most.

“What do you think you'll have?” Katie asked Tuck as she locked up her car and they began walking toward Paul's bar. “The curly fries are awesome.”

“Maybe a cheeseburger.”

“Those are good, too.”

She held open the Penalty Box door to allow Tuck inside first. The place was dark. Had she jotted down the wrong date?

“SURPRISE!” a chorus of voices rang out as the lights flicked on.

There stood Paul, her mother, Gary, Snake, Frank and Bitsy, and Denise beneath a banner that read GOOD LUCK, KATIE AND TUCK! WE'LL MISS YOU! Tuck looked up at Katie, awestruck. “Awesome!” he exclaimed, running over to join Gary. The two immediately took off to play table hockey. Astonished, Katie approached her family and friends.

“You had no idea, did you?” her mother crowed.

“None at all,” Katie admitted. Her eyes traveled to Paul. “Was this your idea?”

Paul nodded. He tilted his head in Tuck's direction. “I wanted to make it special for him.”

Katie shook her head in amazement. “You are something else.”

“About time you realized it,” he ribbed, his gaze holding hers. Katie forced her eyes away. He made her feel vulnerable and transparent, like he could read every thought in her head. She didn't want him to know she was remembering the first time their eyes met at the reunion and she'd been swamped with uninvited desire. Nor did she want him to know the memory of him moving inside her was imprinted in every cell of her body, causing her to flush anew. Yet she couldn't escape the feeling he
did
know. How else to explain the uncomfortable cough he gave to put end an end to the moment?

“Listen up, everyone!” Paul bellowed, even though there were only eleven people there. Katie smiled in amusement. He was acting like he was in a locker room addressing a gaggle of kids. “Drinks are on the house! The staff is in the kitchen, so order whatever you want for lunch! Just make sure you leave room for cake! I'm going to put some music on.”

Katie watched him walk away, his confident swagger turning her on more than she cared to admit.

“He has a beautiful ass,” Denise rhapsodized, sidling up on Katie's right. “Don't you miss it?”

“Sometimes,” Katie admitted.

Bitsy sidled up on Katie's left. “He still loves you.”

Katie ignored her.

Denise looked forlorn as she ordered a Diet Coke from Frank, who had happily assumed his rightful place behind the bar. “I can't believe you're really leaving. Fat Fighters won't be the same without you.”

Katie was surprised to find herself getting choked up. Returning to Didsbury for her sabbatical year, she never imagined she'd make new friends. Yet here she was, saddened by the prospect of not hanging out at Tabitha's every week with Bitsy and Denise.

“You guys can always visit me, you know.”

“You can visit us, too,” Bitsy reminded her. “Unless you still find Didsbury too suffocating to ever return to.”

“You know I don't feel that way anymore, Bits.”

“Good,” said Bitsy, looking relieved. “Now aren't you glad you went to the reunion last fall?”

The question stopped Katie in her tracks. She'd never really paused to think about the chain of events the reunion had set off. If she'd skipped it, she'd never have met Denise, who would have never introduced her to Bitsy at Fat Fighters. She never would have arrived at an appreciation of her past. And then there was Paul.

She glanced around the bar, looking for him. Predictable as ever, he stood watching Tuck and Gary play table hockey. He appeared to be coaching them.

“Can you guys excuse me?” she asked her friends. “I need to talk to Paul a minute.”

She ignored the knowing look that passed between Bitsy and Denise. “Have fun,” Denise trilled.

Walking over to Paul, Katie passed her mother on the way: She was talking to Snake about Mina. Katie was glad Paul invited Snake, whom she realized she now considered family.

Katie tapped her former lover on the shoulder. “Got a minute?”

Paul turned, smiling. “For you? Always.”

They moved away from the table hockey game. “What's up?” Paul asked.

Katie gestured at the friends and family gathered. “I can't tell you how much this means to me. And Tuck. Look at him.” They both eyed the boy, who was completely entranced with the game he was playing, a semi-delirious grin plastered to his face. “He's so happy.”

“He deserves it.” Paul seemed subdued. “I hear you're off tomorrow.”

Katie nodded.

“All packed?”

“Of course I am. Remember who you're talking to here.”

Paul chuckled. “I forgot how anal retentive you are.”

“Nothing wrong with being organized,” Katie insisted.

“Make sure you don't run down any more pedestrians, okay?”

“Hey, if someone
runs out in front of my car
, that's their problem, not mine.”

Paul responded with the faintest of smiles. Katie could feel her defenses beginning to crack. The longer she stood here like this with him, teasing, flirting, reminiscing, the harder it would be to say good-bye—not just to him, but to everyone.

“I should mingle,” said Katie.

“I guess it's your duty as guest of honor.”

“Thank you again, Paul,” Katie said, heartfelt. “For this, for everything.”

“Not a problem. How about a friendly hug for old times' sake?”

“Of course.” Katie stepped into the loose embrace of his arms.

“You'll keep in touch, right?” he murmured into her hair.

Katie swallowed. “You know we will.” His eyes, his scent, the warmth of his hard body—it was too much. Katie broke contact.

“Take care of yourself, Paul.”

Paul smiled sadly. “You, too, Professor.”

“
This place
is great.”

Paul nodded, unsure how to react to Tom Corday's pronouncement as he showed him around the Penalty Box, explaining its inner workings. When they'd met at the wedding in Fallowfield earlier in the year, Paul assumed Katie's colleague was being polite when he said he'd like to come down to Didsbury and pick his brains. Yet here he was, hanging on Paul's every word as if owning a bar was the most exciting profession in the world.

“What type of promos do you do?” Tom asked.

Paul noticed his guest couldn't stop running his hand back and forth across the smooth oak of the bar as if stroking a beloved pet.

“Pretty much the usual,” Paul answered. “On St. Patrick's Day we did the whole green beer thing, complete with an Irish sing-along. Since it's Halloween next week, we'll probably hold a contest for best costume. We also sponsored a local softball team this summer, which was fun.”

Tom looked intrigued. “How does that benefit the bar?”

“They all come in here to drink after the game,” Paul explained with a grin.

“Ah.”

“You should really talk to my bartender, Frank DiNizio. He's the real heart and soul of the place. Been here for years.”

Tom glanced longingly around the Penalty Box for the umpteenth time. “You must be so proud of this place. I'd love to own a bar like this.”

Paul smiled, covering his discomfort. He'd bought the Penalty Box because it was a sound financial investment, and because he hadn't known what the hell to do with himself after retiring. Owning a bar seemed as good a choice as any. Tom's unabashed enthusiasm reminded him how little he'd thought things out after his career blew up; how desperate he was to do something—
anything
—with the void he perceived his life to be.

He gave Tom a clap on the back. “Who knows? Maybe some day you
will
own a bar like this.”

“You selling?” Tom ribbed.

Paul chuckled. “If I do, you'll be the first to know, I promise.”

“Well,” Tom sighed, sliding off his bar stool, “I suppose I should head back. Fallowfield is a bit of a drive.”

“How's Katie?” Paul asked casually. The question had been on the tip of his tongue all day. Bitsy said she was doing well, but Paul wanted confirmation from someone who saw her regularly.

“She's hanging in there,” Tom said after a careful pause. “Seems a little stressed. I don't think she realized what she was getting herself into when she took custody of her nephew. He seems like a great kid, but she's got a very heavy academic schedule, so between that and taking care of him, she's on the go nonstop. But you know Katie; she prides herself on being able to juggle it all.”

“Sounds like Katie, all right,” Paul agreed. He could picture her bustling here and there, her book bag permanently slung over right shoulder. “Any idea when her book will be out?”

“Next May, I think. I'm not sure. She's very excited about that.” Tom looked at him curiously. “You two aren't in touch?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I won't pry,” said Tom, jangling his keys in his pocket, “but for what it's worth, she did tell me to say hello to you when I saw you.”

“Tell her I say hi, too. Tell her—”

He wanted to say more, but stopped.

 

 

Katie sat on
her porch wrapped in a fleece blanket, hands gripping a steaming mug of sugar-free hot cocoa. Though the October nights had grown chilly, she still liked to come out here to unwind after Tuck went to bed, looking up at the stars or listening to the wind cut through the trees.

Arriving back in town two months ago, she'd had a hard time imagining herself and Tuck settling into a “normal” life, if such a thing existed. Yet here they were, their days busy yet relatively predictable, which was what Tuck needed: routine and stability. He'd had little problem making friends at his new school, and had joined a youth hockey team, proving himself one of the more skilled players.

He seemed well adjusted and happy, which was more than Katie could say for herself.

She enjoyed being back in the classroom, and it was nice to be able to buy a skim chai latte whenever she felt like it, or go see a foreign film, or listen to live music if the mood struck her. But she missed Didsbury. She missed her mother, with whom she'd formed an actual adult bond. She missed Bitsy and Denise. She spoke with both of them on the phone, but it wasn't the same. There was something about hanging out at Tabitha's, analyzing each other's problems and laughing themselves silly over a plain old cup of joe, that no phone call or email could replace.

And she missed Paul.

Sometimes she caught herself playing “What if.”

What if she hadn't held him at arm's length? What if she had allowed herself to succumb to the unknown and see where it led? Would they still be together? Or would she be exactly where she was right now: busy but alone, wondering about the man she drove away because she was too afraid to color outside the lines?

She sighed, sipping her cocoa. She wondered if Paul was at the bar right now, entertaining patrons with salty tales of the NHL. She'd heard from Bitsy that he wasn't coaching youth hockey this year, which surprised her. She couldn't imagine him foregoing that kind of hands-on connection with the sport he loved so much. Maybe he was holding out for a coaching position with the AHL team in Hartford.

She closed her eyes a moment, conjuring his face in her mind as she sent her thoughts to him across the silent miles.
I'm sorry I made you feel bad about yourself and your decision to return to Didsbury. I hope you find happiness in whatever you do. If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn't have been so skittish, so scared, so—anal retentive! I would have taken the leap of faith.

She wrapped her blanket tighter around her, imagining her words being carried to him on the wind. Silly, she knew. But she couldn't help it.