2 Maid in the Shade (20 page)

Message to health nut brother: “Glad you are enjoying Asia and thanks for the photo of your dinner of fried donkey penis. Really shocked that you would eat something fried.”

Chapter 15

I
spent the night and through the next early afternoon ignoring my phone and wallowing in self pity. Then I’d had enough. I could almost hear a voice telling me “Buck up or fuck off.” It sounded like Lucy.

I
chose to buck up.

F
irst I listened to all my voicemails. Jackson, Mona and Lucy all called to tell me Herb had been arrested. I was glad to know it hadn’t become common knowledge yet that I had been there. YET was key; this town had a gossip mill that was more efficient than a national gossip rag.

T
here were no job orders.

There was a message from my d
ad, saying that Elizabeth was quite upset with Ben, evidently he had called and left a message when he knew she would be out for her weekly task of changing out the flowers at the chapel. Ben’s message had been that he would be away for quite awhile but he had prepared for that and I would manage his personal bills and the condo.

I called the number I had for Ben’s office and made an appointment to meet with his assistant Kalinda the following Monday at a Caribou coffee near her home in Dilworth. I had no desire to go all the way into town again so soon.

I washed my hair, very carefully shaved my legs and applied lotion until my slightly tanned skin had a nice sheen. I slipped a robe on and went downstairs to look for something I could call an early dinner. I spotted the Diva Mama pie in the freezer but it was off limits. I had bought it for Jared who was off limits too and then stopped short. With Ben’s sudden flare-up of an old relationship and his suggestion that I use the picnic basket with another man, getting out for the evening wasn’t the worst idea in the world anymore.

M
ooning about and pining for Ben wasn’t getting me anywhere. After I thought about it all I dialed Jared and asked him if I could stop by his house that evening.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he said, “they brought Herb in with a confession, so you were right about that and the
re’s some scuttlebutt around the department that you were involved?”

“Not really,” I said, pleased that Bud wasn’t sharing the tape around the office. “He had the confession planned already, I just happened to be nearby. So do you have a few minutes for me to drop something by tonight
?”

“H
e hesitated, “I had a date but it’s something I can cancel.”

“A date
?” I squeaked—oh hell my shock and disappointment were out all in two words and a very vivid delivery. My guard of sarcasm and quick snide rebuttals had been weakened. I blamed Ben and Hugh for that as I tried to regain my emotional footing quickly. “Absolutely not! I can just drop it by tomorrow at the station.”

“So this wasn’t a personal visit between pals
?”

“No,
” I said, “I was just going to drop something by your house. It’s not a problem. I’m going to take it by the department now. Right this minute, get it checked off my list as soon as I get dressed. I will ask them to keep it in your fridge there.”

“Why aren’t you dressed
?”

“Huh
?”

“You said “as soon as I get dressed
.”

“I’m just not dressed to drop off anything at the
sheriff’s office. I’m not in the nude.”

“So what are you wearing
?”

“Want the truth
?”

“Sometimes.”

“I’m wearing a kimono and a Viking helmet.”

H
e laughed. “Well that probably would cause some consternation in town so come on out here.”

“I’m not interrupting your evening
just to deliver something. You can pick it up at work tomorrow.”

“Sooo, I was just on your ‘to do’ list.”

“I was going to bring you dinner since I still owed you, according to you, for the shooting.”

“And you were going to say it with
supper,” he said flatly. “No point negotiating something a little more personal I expect.”

“You have a DATE.” I said hotly
. “You must need Excel spreadsheets to keep all your women straight.”

“She’ll understand. Come on by.”

Aggghh. Now I really didn’t want to go, but protesting did no good and besides I had already revealed that I had my schedule free this evening. 

I
was looking for a distraction. Why I wanted that distraction in the form of Jared didn’t bear examination. It was unwise to go rambling out there just to take Jared an awesome chicken pie. I wanted to spar with him then flee like some sort of ninja seductress. I wanted to catch an appreciative gleam in his eye as salve to my bruised ego. It was absurd and unfair to Jared, but I realized suddenly that when I contemplated even the remote possibility of happily ever after, it had always been with Ben. A Ben who no longer fit the image I had of him. He certainly hadn’t wasted a moment sowing more wild oats before he returned; if he returned to me at all. “Sis,” I muttered. He had to know what a blow it would be to say that to me. And what was all that about using up his money on diamonds and furs? Those were two things I had no plans to acquire as a matter of principle.

“
Sis.” Suddenly I had been quite drastically demoted. If Irinia was a deeply serious relationship there would be no better way to convey my change in status. He had hit the trifecta of pain. “Sis, diamonds, and furs” as well as his implication I could play it fast and loose with his money and use “our” picnic basket for dates. Perhaps I had been blind to Ben because I had formed my impressions of him at such a young age. Apparently he wasn’t that different from Jared, without the fishbowl effect of a small town.

I
had Ben on a pedestal for so long I had never entertained the possibility that I only saw the best of him and sporadically. Just as I had made a caricature of Jared, I had cast Ben as
some
sort of lesser god.

W
hat I did know is that I had to do something, and quickly, before I turned catatonic. I’m very good at compartmentalizing and that is what I would do now. It is what I do best. It is what forces me to survive, and if it’s unhealthy screw the experts. I’m still standing.

R
ight now, I needed to walk out to my car and do something unexpected. It might be a terrible decision but if so I would rather focus on kicking myself for that rather than replay the sound of Ben’s indifferent and condescending message.

I
turned my mind back to what I would wear. Abs or legs I wondered? As I slipped on a thong and bra I rummaged through my closet. I should look casual, I thought. Maybe I should look a little better than usual but explain it was not for his benefit. I could tell him I was going to a movie in Charlotte, or the local watering hole to meet someone for drinks. I called Lucy.

“You have plans later tonight
?”

“No, not really, why?
Jackson’s home I thought I might stop by and see how college is going, but I’m free later.”

“Want a maybe date with me
?”

“What for, a little B&E,
tasering the locals, bullying the elderly, tree climbing? Speaking of the elderly I don’t feel so bad about you picking on Herb anymore, who would have thought he would kill Mae? I cannot wait to find out why, but everyone seems to be assuming it was over the divorce. So what’s the maybe date?”

“
I’m taking supper to Jared, if I need an escape plan for a quick getaway I thought we could meet at Bunburry’s and have a drink.”

“You don’t drink.”

“No, but you do, besides I always order tonic water with a twist. I have no problem being in bars. I never did my drinking in bars.”

“Are you going to tell me why if we get there
?”

“Definitely.”

“Are you going to tell me why if we don’t?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay but you owe me. I get to pick my own ring tone.”

“Seriously
, you are obsessed with ring tones.”

“I wonder what Jared’s is for you
?” Lucy mused.

“Jared doesn’t strike me as the type to use individual ring tones. If he put one on there for every woman h
e has had a passing interest in he’d have to sell his house to pay for them.”

“The man loves his music, plays the guitar, gets a lot of social calls, and has waaay more than a passing interest in you
. I bet you have a ring tone.”

“I don’t think I want to know if that’s true.”

I hung up and looked for the outfit that is the bain of every woman’s existence, the “I look great, but it’s completely unintentional and not for your benefit” ensemble.

I
finally settled on a J Brand denim skirt, a tie up sleeveless top by Equipment and I tied it just below my rib cage. A lilac and lace balconet bra with just a little push to it made me button an extra button at the top. The shirt had just a hint of sheerness allowing a little fine detail of the bra to show.

I
debated over Haviana flip flops with a slight wedge which said (I hoped), “Flip flops! Not being provocative here.” The slight heel emphasized my legs which are probably my best feature so that was a yes.

I
gave myself the once over in my limited mirror after I carefully put on mascara and curled my eyelashes, then combed through them so that it looked pretty natural. I painted my toenails red and finished up with a little nude lip gloss. Legs nicely tanned and defined, arms and abs decent, due to my sit ups, the occasional oak tree chin ups, and regular swims in Lucy’s pool, I was looking a little better than on an average day. Besides, I have a definite attention deficit disorder when it comes to getting ready. After a few minutes I want to scream, which is why I’ve always worn my hair very short or long enough for a ponytail.

T
onight I was wearing it long and loose; unusual, but not unprecedented. My fingernails were short with a clear glaze as they always were. I can barely tolerate a haircut, although I love to be shampooed, the mani-pedi was not ever on my calendar. I did them myself, regularly and faster than it takes to drive to a salon and wait.

I
had my father’s cast off vintage watch. My mother had given it to him long ago and he had buckled it on my wrist after her funeral explaining that it made him too sad to look at every day. It was large against my slim wrist but it actually had the opposite effect on me. Every time I looked at it the silver face spoke to me more about love than the passage of time. I slipped my keys in my skirt pocket, grabbed the pie and I was ready to hit the trail. As an afterthought I climbed up on the counter and brought the basket down and rested the pie inside.  It was a patently “screw Ben” kind of move
,
but I was done questioning my motives and being cautious with men’s hearts. Clearly no one was looking out for mine,

Fifteen minutes later I was traveling down Jared’s winding drive with the basket sitting securely in the passenger floorboard. As I rounded the pond, I saw Jared on the porch seated comfortably in a dark wicker arm chair with a guitar. His head was down as he played and he only looked up when I swung quickly out of Bessless and on over to the passenger side where I bent over quickly to retrieve the pie from the basket.

H
e watched my approach, only remembering his manners as I started up the white wooden steps. Then he jumped up, put the guitar down carefully, relieved me of the pie and held his front door open. I hadn’t meant to go in, had I? I had intended to do my sparring briefly and outside. Nevertheless I
was
in and he was leading me to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to eat it now,” I explained. “It's fresh
. You could still make your date. Just throw it in the freezer when you have company or something.”

“I seem to have company or something now” he said. Turning to smile as he popped the Diva Mama Pie into the freezer he walked over to the stove top and stirred something then opened the oven.

“I made dinner,” he explained, “why don’t you stay?”

I
made a pretense of checking my watch. “I’m supposed to meet someone later at Bunburry’s,” I said, purposely naming the locally famous, homey and faintly respectable pub.

“
I wondered what was up. You don’t usually dress so feminine. I thought it might be for me, and then I remembered we’re just friends.”

He
regarded me thoughtfully then crossed over to the opposite corner where I was leaning and picked me up and sat me on the counter.

“I did make dinner,” he said firmly, “you can at least eat something before you rush off.”

I thought about it for a second then nodded.

“Great, I didn’t cook for you,” he said hastily.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, and glad to hear it. That would kind of erase the apology pie. Can I help?”