T
he next few days passed uneventfully, which only made them feel longer to Alex. He hadn’t spoken to Katie since he’d dropped her off on Sunday evening. It wasn’t completely unexpected, since he knew she was working a lot this week, but more than once he found himself wandering out of the store and staring up the road, feeling vaguely disappointed when he didn’t see her.
It was enough to squash the illusion that he’d dazzled her to the point that she couldn’t resist stopping by. He was surprised, though, by the almost teenage-like enthusiasm he felt at the prospect of seeing her again, even if she didn’t feel the same way. He pictured her on the beach, her chestnut hair fluttering in the breeze, her delicately boned features, and eyes that seemed to change color every time he saw them. Little by little, she’d relaxed as the day had worn on, and he had the sense that going to the beach had softened her resistance somehow.
He wondered not only about her past, but about all the other things he still didn’t know about her. He tried to imagine what kind of music she liked, or what she thought about first thing in the morning, or whether or not she’d ever attended a baseball game. He wondered whether she slept on her back or on her side and, if given the choice, whether she preferred a shower to a bath. The more he wondered, the more curious he became.
He wished she would trust him with the details of her past, not because he was under the illusion that he could somehow rescue her or felt that she even needed to be rescued, but because giving voice to the truth of her past meant opening the door to the future. It meant they would be able to have a real conversation.
By Thursday, he was debating whether to drop by her cottage. He wanted to and had once even reached for his keys, but in the end he’d stopped because he had no idea what to say once he got there. Nor could he predict how she might respond. Would she smile? Or be nervous? Would she invite him inside or ask him to leave? As much as he tried to imagine what might happen, he couldn’t, and he’d ended up putting the keys aside.
It was complicated. But then again, he reminded himself, she was a mysterious woman.
It didn’t take long before Katie admitted that the bicycle was a godsend. Not only was she able to come home between her shifts on the days she pulled doubles, but for the first time, she felt as though she could really begin to explore the town, which was exactly what she did. On Tuesday, she visited a couple of antique stores, enjoyed the watercolor seascapes at a local art gallery, and rode through neighborhoods, marveling at the broad sweeping porches and porticos adorning the historic homes near the waterfront. On Wednesday, she visited the library and spent a couple of hours browsing the shelves and reading the flaps of books, loading the bicycle baskets with novels that interested her.
In the evenings, though, as she lay in bed reading the books she’d checked out, she sometimes found her thoughts drifting to Alex. Sifting through her memories, those from Altoona, she realized he reminded her of her friend Callie’s father. In her sophomore year in high school, Callie had lived down the street from her and though they didn’t know each other that well—Callie was a couple of years younger—Katie could remember sitting on her porch steps every Saturday morning. Like clockwork, Callie’s dad would open the garage, whistling as he rolled the lawn mower into place. He was proud of his yard—it was easily the most manicured in the neighborhood—and she’d watch as he pushed the mower back and forth with military precision. He stopped every so often to move a fallen branch out of the way, and in those moments, he would wipe his face with a handkerchief he kept in his back pocket. When he was finished, he would lean against the hood of the Ford in his driveway, sipping a glass of lemonade that his wife always brought to him. Sometimes, she would lean on the car alongside him, and Katie would smile as she saw him pat his wife’s hip whenever he wanted to get her attention.
There was something contented in the way he sipped his drink and touched his wife that made her think he was satisfied with the life he was leading and that all his dreams had somehow been fulfilled. Often, as Katie studied him, she wondered how her life would have been had she been born into that family.
Alex had the same air of contentment about him when his kids were around. Somehow he not only had been able to move past the tragedy of losing his wife but had done so with enough strength to help his kids move past the loss as well. When he’d spoken about his wife, Katie had listened for bitterness or self-pity, but there hadn’t been any. There’d been sorrow, of course, and a loneliness in his expression as he spoke of her, but at the same time, he’d told Katie about his wife without making her feel like he’d been comparing the two of them. He seemed to accept her, and though she wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, she realized that she was attracted to him.
Beyond that, her feelings were complicated. Not since Atlantic City had she lowered her guard enough to let someone else get so close, and that ended up being a nightmare. But as hard as she’d tried to remain aloof, it seemed that every time she saw Alex, something happened to draw them together. Sometimes by accident, like when Josh fell in the river and she’d stayed with Kristen, but sometimes it seemed almost preordained. Like the storm rolling in. Or Kristen wandering out and pleading with her to come to the beach. To this point, she’d had enough sense to volunteer little about herself, but that was the thing. The more time she spent with Alex, the more she had the sense that he knew far more than he was letting on, and it frightened her. It made her feel naked and vulnerable and it was part of the reason she’d avoided going to the store at all this week. She needed time to think, time to decide what, if anything, she was going to do about it.
Unfortunately, she’d spent too much time dwelling on the way the fine lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned or the graceful way he’d emerged from the surf. She thought about how Kristen would reach for his hand and the absolute trust Katie saw in that simple gesture. Early on, Jo had said something along the lines that Alex was a good man, the kind of man who would do the right thing, and though Katie couldn’t claim to know him well, her instincts told her he was a man she could trust. That no matter what she told him, he would support her. That he would guard her secrets and never use what he knew to hurt her.
It was irrational and illogical and it went against everything she’d promised herself when she’d moved here, but she realized that she wanted him to know her. She wanted him to understand her, if only because she had the strange sense that he was the kind of man she could fall in love with, even if she didn’t want to.
B
utterfly hunting.
The notion had popped into his head soon after waking on Saturday morning, even before he’d gone downstairs to open the store. Strangely, as he’d been pondering the possibilities of what to do with the kids that day, he’d remembered a project he’d done in the sixth grade. The teacher had asked the students to make an insect collection. He flashed to a memory of running through a grassy field at recess, chasing after everything from bumblebees to katydids. He was certain that Josh and Kristen would enjoy it, and feeling proud of himself for coming up with something exciting and original to occupy a weekend afternoon, he sifted through the fishing nets he had in the store, choosing three that were about the right size.
When he told them at lunch, Josh and Kristen were less than enthusiastic about the idea.
“I don’t want to hurt any butterflies,” Kristen protested. “I like butterflies.”
“We don’t have to hurt them. We can let them go.”
“Then why catch them in the first place?”
“Because it’s fun.”
“It doesn’t sound fun. It sounds mean.”
Alex opened his mouth to respond, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Josh took another bite of his grilled cheese sandwich.
“It’s pretty hot already, Dad,” Josh pointed out, talking as he chewed.
“That’s okay. Afterward, we can swim in the creek. And chew with your mouth closed.”
Josh swallowed. “Why don’t we just swim in the creek now?”
“Because we’re going butterfly hunting.”
“Can we go to a movie instead?”
“Yeah!” Kristen said. “Let’s go to a movie.”
Parenting, Alex thought, could be exasperating.
“It’s a beautiful day and we’re not going to spend it sitting inside. We’re going butterfly hunting. And not only that, you’re going to enjoy it, okay?”
After lunch, Alex drove them to a field on the outskirts of town that was filled with wildflowers. He handed them their nets and sent them on their way, watching as Josh sort of dragged his net while Kristen held hers tucked against her, in much the same way she held her dolls.
Alex took matters into his own hands and jogged ahead of both of them, his net at the ready. Up ahead, fluttering among the wildflowers, he spotted dozens of butterflies. When he got close enough, he swung his net, capturing one. Squatting down, he carefully began to shift the net, allowing the orange and brown colors to show through.
“Wow!” he shouted, trying to sound as enthusiastic as he could. “I got one!”
The next thing he knew, Josh and Kristen were peering over his shoulder.
“Be careful with it, Daddy!” Kristen cried.
“I will, baby. Look at how pretty the colors are.”
They leaned in even closer.
“Cool!” Josh shouted, and a moment later, he was off and running, swinging the net with abandon.
Kristen continued to study the butterfly. “What kind is it?”
“It’s a skipper,” Alex said. “But I don’t know exactly what kind.”
“I think he’s scared,” Kristen said.
“I’m sure he’s fine. But I’ll let him go, okay?”
She nodded as Alex carefully pulled the net inside out. In the open air, the butterfly clung to the net before taking off in flight. Kristen’s eyes went wide with wonder.
“Can you help me catch one?” she asked.
“I’d love to.”
They spent a little more than an hour running among the flowers. They caught about eight different kinds of butterflies, including a buckeye, though the vast majority were skippers like the first. By the time they finished, the kids’ faces were red and shiny, so Alex drove them to get ice cream cones before heading to the creek behind the house. The three of them jumped off the dock together—Josh and Kristen wearing life preservers—and floated downstream in the slow-moving water. It was the kind of day he’d spent as a kid. By the time they got out of the water, he was contented by the thought that, aside from going to the beach, it was the best weekend they’d had in a while.
But it was tiring, too. Afterward, once the kids had showered, they wanted to watch a movie, and Alex popped in
Homeward Bound
, a movie they’d seen a dozen times but were always willing to watch again. From the kitchen, he could see them on the couch, neither one moving in the slightest, staring at the television in that dazed way particular to exhausted children.
He wiped the kitchen counters and loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, started a load of laundry, straightened up the living room, and gave the kids’ bathroom a good scrubbing before finally sitting beside them on the couch for a while. Josh curled up on one side, Kristen on the other. By the time the movie ended, Alex could feel his own eyelids beginning to droop. After working at the store and playing with the kids and cleaning the house, it felt good to simply relax for a while.
The sound of Josh’s voice jarred him awake.
“Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s for dinner? I’m starved.”
From the waitress stand, Katie peered out at the deck and then turned back again, staring as Alex and the kids followed the hostess to an open table near the railing. Kristen smiled and waved as soon as she saw Katie, and hesitated only a second before scooting between the tables and hurtling directly for her. Katie bent down as the little girl threw her arms around her.
“We wanted to surprise you!” Kristen said.
“Well, you did. What are you doing here?”
“My dad didn’t want to cook for us tonight.”
“He didn’t?”
“He said he was too tired.”
“There’s more to the story,” Alex announced. “Trust me.”
Katie hadn’t heard him come up, and she stood.
“Oh, hey,” she said, blushing against her will.
“How are you?” Alex asked.
“Good.” She nodded, feeling a bit flustered. “Busy, as you can tell.”
“It seems like it. We had to wait before they could seat us in your section.”
“It’s been like that all day.”
“Well, we won’t keep you. C’mon, Kristen. Let’s go to the table. We’ll see you in a few minutes or whenever you’re ready.”
“Bye, Miss Katie.” Kristen waved again.
Katie watched them walk to the table, strangely excited by their visit. She saw Alex open the menu and lean forward to help Kristen with hers, and for an instant, she wished she were sitting with them.
She retucked her shirt and glanced at her reflection in the stainless steel coffeepot. She couldn’t make out much, only a blurry image, but it was enough to make her run a hand through her hair. Then, after a quick check to make sure her shirt hadn’t been stained—nothing she could do about it, of course, but she still wanted to know—she walked over to the table.
“Hey, guys,” she said, addressing the kids. “I hear your dad didn’t want to cook dinner for you.”
Kristen giggled but Josh simply nodded. “He said he was tired.”
“That’s what I heard,” she said.
Alex rolled his eyes. “Thrown under the bus by my own kids. I just can’t believe it.”
“I wouldn’t throw you under the bus, Daddy,” Kristen said seriously.
“Thank you, sweetie.”
Katie smiled. “Are you thirsty? Can I get you something to drink?”
They ordered sweet teas all around, along with a basket of hush puppies. Kristen brought the drinks to the table and as she walked away, she felt Alex’s gaze on her. She fought the urge to peek over her shoulder, though she desperately wanted to.
For the next few minutes, she took orders and cleared plates from other tables, delivered a couple of meals, and finally returned with the basket of hush puppies.
“Be careful,” she said. “They’re still hot.”
“That’s when they’re the best,” Josh said, reaching into the basket. Kristen reached for one as well.
“We went butterfly hunting today,” she said.
“You did?”
“Yep. But we didn’t hurt them. We let them go.”
“That sounds like fun. Did you have a good time?”
“It was awesome!” Josh said. “I caught, like, a hundred of them! And then we went swimming.”
“What a great day,” Katie said sincerely. “No wonder your dad is tired.”
“I’m not tired,” both Josh and Kristen said, almost simultaneously.
“Maybe not,” Alex said, “but you’re both still going to bed early. Because your poor old dad needs to go to sleep.”
Katie shook her head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said. “You’re not poor.”
It took him a moment to realize she was teasing, and he laughed. It was loud enough for the people at the next table to notice, though he didn’t seem to care.
“I come in here to relax and enjoy my dinner, and I end up getting picked on by the waitress.”
“It’s a tough life.”
“You’re telling me. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me that I might want to order from the kids’ menu, seeing as how I’m gaining weight.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” she said with a pointed glance at his midsection. He laughed again, and when he looked at her she saw an appreciative gleam in his eye, reminding her that he found her attractive.
“I think we’re ready to order now,” he said.
“What can I get you?”
Alex ordered for them and Katie jotted it down. She held his gaze for a moment before leaving the table and dropping the order off in the kitchen. As she continued to work the tables in her station—as quickly as people left, they were replaced—she found excuses to swing by Alex’s table. She refilled their waters and their teas, she removed the basket when they were done with the hush puppies, and she brought Josh a new fork after his had dropped on the floor. She chatted easily with Alex and the kids, enjoying every moment, and eventually brought them their dinners.
Later, when they were through, she cleared the table and dropped off the check. By then, the sun was getting lower and Kristen had begun to yawn, and if anything, the restaurant had gotten busier. She had time for only a quick good-bye as the kids scrambled down the stairs, but when Alex hesitated, she had the sense that he was about to ask her out. She wasn’t sure how she was going to handle it, but before he could get the words out, one of her customers spilled a beer. The customer stood quickly from the table, bumping it, and two more glasses toppled over. Alex stepped back, the moment broken, knowing she had to go.
“See you soon,” he said, waving as he trailed after his kids.
The following day, Katie pushed open the door to the store only half an hour after opening.
“You’re here early,” Alex said, surprised.
“I was up early and just thought I’d get my shopping out of the way.”
“Did it ever slow down last night?”
“Finally. But a couple of people have been out this week. One went to her sister’s wedding, and another called in sick. It’s been crazy.”
“I could tell. But the food was great, even if the service was a little slow.”
When she fixed him with an irate expression, he laughed. “Just getting you back for teasing me last night.” He shook his head. “Calling me old. I’ll have you know my hair went gray before I was thirty.”
“You’re very sensitive about that,” she noted with a teasing tone. “But trust me. It looks good on you. It lends a certain air of respectability.”
“Is that good or bad?”
She smiled without giving an answer before reaching for a basket. As she did, she heard him clear his throat. “Are you working as much this coming week?”
“Not as much.”
“How about next weekend?”
She thought about it. “I’m off Saturday. Why?”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before meeting her eyes. “Because I was wondering if I might be able to take you to dinner. Just the two of us this time. No kids.”
She knew they were at a crossroads, one that would change the tenor of things between them. At the same time, it was the reason she’d come to the store as early as she had. She wanted to figure out whether she’d been mistaken about what she’d seen in his expression the previous evening, because it was the first time she knew for certain that she wanted him to ask.
In the silence, though, he seemed to misread what she was thinking. “Never mind. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yes,” she said, holding his gaze. “I’d love dinner. But on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve already done so much for me that I’d rather do something for you this time. How about I make you dinner instead? At my house.”
He smiled, relieved. “That sounds perfect.”