2 Maid in the Shade (21 page)

“Nope, got it under control. It’s one of my old standbys.”

“Impressive.”

“I don’t cook every night,” he explained. “I make something every other night which takes care of the next day or two.”

“I would have figured you for a diner or fast food window type or, with all your dating, that would keep you out of the kitchen most evenings.”

“Nope
. That stuff is tiresome. Too much and I would look like—I don’t know, those doughnut munching parodies of law enforcement. Not that what I’m making tonight is healthy,” he hastily added. “But at least I know everything that’s in it.”

“Never figured you for a health nut.
I seem to recall you downing four hotdogs at the Oasis once.”

“I
’m just being responsible. Health is a gift, so you get some exercise, eat reasonably well, and make sure your kids aren’t saddled with your issues you could have controlled.”

“
I never figured you for the family man type either.”

“Don’t you think that’s because you’re more comfortable with me as some simple sex starved good ol’ boy
?”

“Maybe there is more to you than that, but you’re just as guilty.”

“How so?” He asked as he grabbed a mitt and brought the first dish out of the oven.

“I think you believe
I’m far more complex than I really am.”

“Nope, every time I turn around and look at something you’re up to, there’s another facet that I didn’t catch before.
That’s probably because you’re not mine to sit and study.” He said it easily, reaching up to grab the plates high up in the top shelf of the cabinets.

“I don’t usually bring this out,” he explained
placing the plates carefully on the counter and filling up two glasses with tea. “But I have my doubts I’ll be cooking for you again and it seems fitting all of a sudden.”

He brought one of the plates over and handed it to me. “My grandmother had this from when she was a bride, she gave it to me because I cared most about their things and their history” he explained as I examined the intricate hand painted pattern of leaves and tiny birds.

“
My God,” I said startled. “Every time an old college friend gets married and I go through her registry I end up looking at china. I just thought someday I would buy some for myself. This is perfect. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Maybe there’s a reason for that. Check out the pattern name.”

I
turned it over carefully. “Gretchen” by Waterford. 

“Almost impossible to find now,” he said,
“I broke a teacup once and I felt like I had run over my cat.”

I
looked warily around. I’m allergic to cats. Highly allergic. In fact so allergic I should be scrambling for my Benadryl and wheezing about now.

“Not a house cat.” Jared said. “Alfred has never been in the house.”

“Do you know how many songbirds are killed every year by domestic cats?”

“As a matter of fact I do. My grandmother would come after me with the broom if I ever kept a cat outdoors
. She was a large animal vet and still is a crazed environmentalist.”

“So, this is a neighbor’s cat you feed
?”

“Nope, but Alfred should be around, if he comes around at all, at about time for dessert. You’ll disapprove as much as she does, but stay and meet him anyway
. You want to eat in here or on the porch?”

“Porch,” I said quickly.
The large kitchen with a stone fireplace, glowing warm pine cabinets and floors and a hominess you could just sink into and never want to leave was making me feel overwhelmed.

E
legant rustic was something so many people attempt and never achieve. But it was all here in a great open plan that simply came from a well-built old home filled with family treasures.

“I’m assuming this is yours, or your family place, a home place
”

He
smiled, “THE home place, I’m very lucky it was deeded over to me. Of course I had to have it appraised and pay off family for the adjoining land, but that was easy enough to do. No one but me thought it was worth much and I think it’s just about priceless. No matter where I go it will be here and be kept up.”

“That’s right, you inherited from that uncle.”

A shadow of disgust passed over his face. “I had money settled on me when I turned twenty-one. Nothing about that man had a thing to do with this place being mine.”

W
e carried the tea and plates out to the porch, Jared pulled a chair out for me and went back inside for napkins and flatware.

I
surveyed the land and pond in front of me, the stable off to the side looked almost as old as the house. I heard the sound of horses settling in for the night.

I
quickly unbuttoned the third button on my blouse that I had deemed a little too “come hither” when I was getting ready earlier. I heard the screen door slam shut as I was looking out over the land again. He laid the napkins out properly with some heavy old silver and I saw his eye travel immediately over to that third button as he was doing so.

“Damn him,” I thought, “we both just got lucky and unlucky in the space of a minute.”

“Thanks,” I said lightly. “This looks wonderful.” And it did. We had our plates filled with chicken and dumplings, string beans and sweet potatoes.

I
took a sip of tea and carefully laid my napkin on my lap. “Who made the table?” I asked as I caressed the wood. It was arched on one end and attached to the house on the other. He had just flipped it down with his elbow when we had brought out the plates and I heard it snap into place.

J
ared smiled, “Dig in and I’ll tell you anything you want.”

“You in a big hurry
?” I asked, smiling as I took my first bite.

He
looked at my third button again before his eyes traveled up to meet mine.

“I never hurry anything.”

“Oh,” I gulped and for a second was afraid I might choke. The chicken and dumplings melted in my mouth which was probably the only thing that saved me from a Heimlich maneuver.

I
took a quick sip of tea and took the glass and rubbed it against my neck, he was looking at me, seemingly spellbound.

I
felt like I had the upper hand again, if just barely, and set the glass down carefully. When I looked up his eyes fixed on a trickle of moisture I could feel making its way down my neck.

“If it’s too hot we can go inside,” he said huskily.

“No, of course not, I’m cooling off,” I said brightly, feeling just a little triumphant. “So you were about to tell me who made the table?”

“
I did, or at least thought of it. When my Grandpa was working on the spring house one day he made a little new door, I was probably about in second grade, yeah, it was second grade, and when he threw it on the burn pile I cried for it. So they took it and stored it in the attic and every time they wanted to throw something out from then on it was “Don’t forget to check with Jared.” Or “Don’t forget about Jared’s door.” Anyway, this table is the old spring house door. I hated change back then. I could tell if there was a book missing. I even got them to save the claw foot tub when they updated their house in town. I got that here too. I’ll show it to you later.”

“Oh I won’t be here that long will I? After all, we both have plans.”

“Yes,” he smiled and said with emphasis, “equally legitimate plans.” 

“So how did you get the idea to make the table
?”

“Oh beds, I am fascinated by beds.”

“I would assume so since you have undoubtedly been in so many,” I murmured taking another quick bite.

H
e grinned, “No it actually started out with tree houses, I love them, used to draw up plans for them with a Murphy style bed and damned if my Grandpa and I didn’t end up building three tree houses; one at each place. But I was always trying to figure out a way that I could live in one permanently when I grew up, thought about how to fit everything you’d need in one. So as much as possible I’ve built things where they don’t take up floor space.”

“
Three!” I shook my head, “I would really love to see one sometime if they’re still there. I love trees,” I added fervently like some wallflower the prom king had just tripped over on his way to the bathroom.

“You still climb them if memory serves.”

I blushed. “I never got over wanting to be a professional gymnast, but my body held sway over that decision. You don’t see many lanky gymnasts. I was throwing heart and soul into it when my instructor told my mother it just wasn’t feasible for someone so tall, she was right to stop me when she did. I am an animal when it comes to competing. But my height was a definite handicap. Just like for a jockey, as my dad explained. So I practiced on my own, in the woods.”

“
It saved your life.”

I
smiled, “It made me even more of a joke in town. I must be such an anomaly around here.”

“You kidding? That’s not a bad thing. You’re more fun to talk about than an HBO series. Beautiful girl, tall as a model with a top degree coming here to
clean up blood, fight off criminals, heal animals, plus crack through the wall of Lucy, who has very stringent and odd requirements of what few women she allows in her life. Everybody is just about breathless waiting to see what you will do next.”

“Ah Lucy, I own that girl right now.”

“How in the world did that come about?”

“
I was mad at her for telling you things about my life, or rather things I thought she told you.”

“
You were pretty mad at both of us.”

“I was,” I said nodding slowly, “and then I realized she hadn’t and maybe it was okay if she had.”

“So you in a sharing mood now?”

“Neither one of us will feel much like getting lucky if I pull you into that swamp.”

Jared brightened, “I’m going to get lucky?”

“I have no idea if you are or not. But your chances are better if I leave soon.
I’m still going to Bunburry’s. Anything could happen at Bunburry’s and you could still make that date.”

“Anything might happen here.”

“I bet a little of everything has.”

“I don’t bring girls here.”

“Oh cut the tale of waiting for true love and not sullying the home of your future bride. I just KNOW that is what you were going to say.”

“Actually, I never thought of it that way, I d
on’t want to bring any old girl here. This is a home place, not a bachelor pad. Ask any girl I’ve ever been with.”

“A
nd I told you before; I don’t have the time or interest in calling up everyone you’ve slept with.”

“Subject change,” h
e said firmly.

“OK, Batman, greatest superhero EVER or are you insane
?”

He
grinned, “Where do you think I got the name Alfred?”

“So you named this cat after-”

“Shh” Jared hissed. “Speak of the devil, here he comes.”

S
liding around an ancient oak tree a bobcat began to wind its way toward the house. My fork was halfway to my mouth and I froze at his approach.

“Just relax,” Jared said, “he doesn’t know your smell or your voice yet.”

I could have responded that I knew my way around wildlife as well as he did, but I held my tongue.

A
lfred continued to draw near although he stopped to sniff the air. He was wary, but willing to investigate. He made it to the end of the stone path and looked up at us.

J
ared took a small bowl that had been sitting on the far side of the table, grabbed a piece of chicken and Alfred caught it neatly in his mouth, turned and strode away in a dignified fashion. He stopped at the oak to eat, and sat down for a minute staring at us.

“That will be all Alfred,” Jared said in a pretty good imitation
of Christian Bale’s Batman.

“Say something,” he urged, “if you ever see him again he’ll know your voice and your s
cent.”

“Goodnight Alfred.” I said expecting him to turn and dash away.

Instead he continued to sit there for a moment, turning his head from side to side as if he were pondering my presence.

T
hen he stretched out and rolled around in the leaves for a moment and took one long last look at us before he was gone, much more quickly than he had appeared.

“Well
, I have to say, that was pretty wonderful.”

“No scolding over feeding a wild animal, painting a scenario where I could end up in the hospital and Alfred starving to death or approaching people for food
?”

“I can’t say for sure but it looks like you give him the occasional treat, he isn’t depending on you to exist and he certainly looks like he has a pact with you, not our entire species. So like the rest of the things in your life, I don’t judge.”