Some Girls Do (7 page)

Spotting a brown-haired boy on the front steps, Katie quickened her pace. Her heart lifted at the sight of her brother. Jeremy represented everything good that was possible in a world full of disappointments. He thought she visited him out of the goodness of her heart. What Jeremy didn't realize was that she needed their visits, perhaps more than he did. She needed to see the one good thing in her life to keep her going. She needed to see Jeremy.

She stepped into the yard and his ten-year-old blue eyes met hers. Grinning from ear to ear, he jumped up from the porch and raced toward her. He flew into her arms and she closed her eyes at his sweet, familiar scent. Her heart twisted as he clung to her.

He looked up at her face, his gaze searching hers. Excitement mingled with distress in his eyes. “I heard Mama talking to me again last night.”

Katie's eyes burned with tears because she knew her brother was nearly deaf from the accident that had taken her mother's life. Both Katie's world and Jeremy's world had changed in the explosion that had occurred two years ago. Using sign language more as practice for herself than for him because he was determined to master reading lips, she moved her fingers to reassure him. “It's okay, sweetheart,” she signed, admitting to her brother something she would tell no one else in the universe. “She talks to me too.”

“
A child's kiss can mend a broken heart.
”

—S
UNNY
C
OLLINS'S WISDOM

Chapter 5

F
rowning, Jeremy tugged her hair loose from the tight knot. “It's ugly that way,” he said.

She chuckled. “That's the idea,” she said, slowly signing her words. “I don't want to be noticeable at my job.”

“It works,” he said, hooking his arm through hers and pulling her along for a walk. “Have you gotten my birthday present yet?”

“Your birthday? You have a birthday soon?” she teased, knowing perfectly well Jeremy's birthday was just a few weeks away. “What was it you said you wanted? A football? Was it a bike?”

He gave her a playful shrug. “You know I want a new video computer game.” He paused and looked at her earnestly. “Is it too expensive?”

Her heart broke a little. Jeremy shouldn't have to be concerned about money. She shook her head. “Not at all. What kind of cake do you want?”

“Chocolate with lots of icing. And ice cream with gummi worms,” he added.

She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds gross, but you're the boss, at least for that day. How are your classes going?”

“Ms. Kimball says I'm her Speedy Gonzalez except for signing.” He stomped his toe into the dirt. “I want to read lips.”

His diction was nearly perfect, she noticed. Katie had needed to learn a lot about Jeremy's disability, and she'd learned that one of Jeremy's advantages was that his speech was normal because he'd spent years talking before he'd lost his hearing. Just after the accident two years ago, he had tended to yell, but he'd learned to control his volume.

“Sign language is a backup. Everyone can use a backup,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “What did Mama say to you?”

“She sang ‘You Are My Sunshine,’” he said and rubbed his stomach. “I'm hungry.”

Her heart twisted. Her mother had sung the same song to her often at bedtime. Katie headed back to the porch. Jeremy wasn't saying anything, but she could feel his turmoil. It was tough being a boy trying to learn how to be a man, especially when you've lost just about everything.

She looked down at him and carefully signed at the same time she spoke. “Would you like to bake cookies?”

“You just asked me if I'd like to bake a newspaper. Priss, your signing really stinks.”

Chagrinned, Katie frowned. She clearly had a long way to go with signing. “Newspaper? I meant to ask about cookies.”

“I know because I was watching your mouth.”

“Smarty pants. Did you know that you are the bravest boy in the world?”

He met her gaze with innocent eyes as old as time. “Does that mean you'll get me the computer game, Priss?” he asked craftily.

She swatted him and laughed. He was the only one she allowed to call her Priss. “We'll see. Birthdays are all about surprises,” she said, even though she'd bought the game just this past week.

The rest of the day flew. Jeremy engaged her in a cookie dough fight that required extensive cleanup and they played computer games. He stomped her every time except one, and she was pretty sure he'd let her win that time. A few of his friends joined in the fun. His popularity with the other students eased some of her worry for him. She barely caught the last bus a mile and a half from the school and replayed the treasured moments all the way back to Society Hill. Being with Jeremy made her feel like a real person, and she often felt she had a tougher time leaving him than he had waving good-bye.

Katie noticed the interested gaze of a man on the other side of the aisle. He smiled and she remembered she needed to pull her hair back. When the train pulled into the station, she jumped out and slipped into a ladies’ room to face the mirror. She quickly fixed her hair, plopped her glasses on her nose, and dodged raindrops during the last quarter mile to the Rasmussens’ home. She walked through the door and Michael Wingate immediately greeted her.

“We have a crisis,” he said.

Instead of a suit, she noticed he wore jeans that faithfully covered his hips and powerful thighs and a black pullover shirt emphasized his broad shoulders. Her stomach took a strange dip. The casual clothes better matched the raw, rugged look in his eyes.

Crisis.
Her brain kicked in along with panic. “Wilhemina? Did something happen to Wilhemina?”

He shook his head. “Worse. That animal they call a cat got out.”

Katie winced. “Uh-oh. She catches colds easily.”

“'Wilhemina wants to go look for her.”

Katie shook her head. “Wilhemina catches colds easily too,” she said and didn't like the look in his eye. “Don't say it. Wilhemina is much nicer than that cat. Even you have to agree.”

He shrugged. “Just make sure Wilhemina stays inside. I'm heading out to find Chantal now. Any places she particularly likes?”

“The trees in the backyard and the next-door neighbor's sandbox.”

He grunted and left. Katie quickly sped up the stairs and knocked on Wilhemina's door. It took a couple of moments, but Wilhemina finally cracked the door. “Yes?” Her eyes rounded. “Oh, good. It's you. Chantal is missing, so I have to go look for her.”

“It's dark and getting nasty out there. Mr. Wingate has already left to find her.”

Wilhemina's eyebrows knitted with concern. “But he doesn't know where to look for her.”

“I told him her favorite places to go,” Katie reassured her.

“But Chantal might not come to him when he calls. He's still a stranger to her.”

Katie swallowed her impatience. “Would you feel better if I looked for her too?”

“Well, at least Chantal knows you,” Wilhemina said.

“Okay. Promise me you won't come outside looking for the cat.”

Wilhemina paused a full five seconds. “I promise I won't go outside to look for Chantal.”

Something about Ivan's daughter's tone bothered Katie, “You're sure?”

“I promise I won't go outside to look for Chantal,” she repeated.

“Okay” Katie said, and turned toward her room.

“Katie?”

She turned around to look at Wilhemina. “Yes?”

Wilhemina laced and unlaced her fingers together. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

Katie felt a tug at Wilhemina's solemn gratitude. She'd known Wilhemina was attached to Chantal, but she hadn't known she was that attached. Impulsively, she stepped forward and embraced her. “It's nothing,” she said. “Don't worry. Mr. Wingate and I can handle this.”

In a couple of moments, Katie pulled on a rain slicker, grabbed a flashlight, opened a can of tuna, and headed out the door. The rain was pouring.

“Here, kitty-kitty,” she called, waving the can of tuna as she meandered through the backyard. “Here, Chantal.” She repeated the calls and continued walking between the trees farther away from the house. “Here, kitty-kitty—” She broke off when a loud thump sounded behind her.

Her heart stopped at the black figure, until she realized it was Michael. “You scared me to death. Do you always have to sneak up behind people?”

“I wasn't sneaking,” he said, his dark hair glistening from the rain. “I was looking in the tree for the cat. Do you really think that animal will answer to
kitty-kitty?
”

“What am I supposed to say? Bonsoir, Chantal!” She shrugged. “I need to let her know I'm out here. I was hoping she would respond to the combination of my voice and the smell of tuna. Did you have a better idea?”

He sighed in disgust. “This isn't my area of expertise. I can't believe I'm wasting my time looking for a cat.”

“You can go back inside,” she suggested, thinking she would prefer he left if all he was going to do was complain.

“No,” he said, his expression dark. “I'm here for the duration. I'm not just out in the rain looking for a pussy. I'm looking for the ugliest pussy in the world.”

Katie locked gazes with him for a long oddly-charged moment, then looked away. She wasn't going to touch that pussy comment with a ten-foot pole. She continued to call for Chantal and Michael climbed up at least half a dozen trees. They circled the perimeter of the yard another time.

“This isn't looking good. I think we may need to try the Hathaways,” she said, glancing at the stone wall separating the two estates.

He nodded. “Okay. Put your foot here.” He laced his fingers together and cupped them like a stirrup.

Surprised and strangely touched by the offer, Katie just stared at him. “I-uh-I-don't—”

“Would you move it? I'm not getting any younger.”

She blinked, the sliver of a tender feeling disappearing in an instant. Stepping into his hands, she grabbed on to the wall and hitched herself up to the top, successfully saving the can of tuna. She slung her legs over. Before she had a chance to slide down, Michael appeared on the other side of the wall, his hands outstretched.

She immediately fell on top of him.

He made an
oof
sound and fell to the ground, protecting her from the fall. His body was hard beneath hers, his arms strongly supporting her. She couldn't remember a time when anyone had broken her fall. Her face suspended above his, she stared into his dark eyes and felt an odd sensation in her stomach. The scent of rain and man swam in her head.

“Your hair,” he murmured.

Katie blinked, noticing that her hair had come loose from the tight knot. She felt it damply clinging to her cheeks. Her glasses were missing. They must have flown off her head.

Swearing, he shook his head and lifted a finger to one of the strands. “Why in hell do you look better wet in the rain than perfectly dry in the daylight?” His gaze demanded an answer. “Why do you deliberately make yourself look plain?”

“It's my job to look plain.” Pushing aside the jittery breathless feeling inside her, she pulled back and gingerly stood.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if I want to keep my job, I need to be nearly invisible, nonthreatening to Ivan's wives, completely—”

“Asexual,” Michael finished for her.

The term jarred her, especially after she'd just felt the strength of his body cushioning hers. She gave a slow nod. “I was going to say ordinary, but I think you get the picture.”

“You're so afraid of losing your job that you make yourself look ugly to keep it?” he asked in disbelief.

“Ugly is a harsh term,” she said, her ego smarting. She began to look for her glasses.

“That wasn't the point,” he said. “I meant you must be damn scared of losing your job to go to such lengths.”

She didn't like his description
damn scared.
It hit too close to the truth. She felt his hand on her arm and tensed, rounding on him. “I have a damn good reason to keep my job. That's all you need to know.”

He frowned, lifting his hand to her hair. He pulled something from it and lifted it to his nose. “Sugar? You spent your day off making something with sugar? You are one weird cookie.”

She lifted her lips in a forced smile. “Exactly. You have me perfectly pegged. I'm weird, strange, and asexual. I give new meaning to the word plain. We can look for the cat now. The mystery of Katie Collins is solved. All your questions are answered.”

“Not by a long shot,” he muttered, still gazing at her in a way that made her feel like she was Chantal and he was the hunter. “But you're right about the cat. Where's the sandbox?”

An hour later, they temporarily gave up and stomped back to the side door that led to the kitchen. Katie ditched her shoes and slicker in the mudroom. When she saw Michael pull off his shirt, she quickly skedaddled down the hallway to the kitchen, hearing her mother's sultry singsong voice in her head.
Nothing wrong with looking, Priss. And he's definitely worth looking at.

“The way I calculate it, Mama, the earliest I can think about sex is in seven years. Jeremy won't graduate until then,” she muttered under her breath and was immediately filled with the sense that she had just shocked her mother into complete silence. Considering the fact that not even death had silenced her, that was pretty amazing.

Making a face, Katie dumped what remained of the tuna into the garbage and washed her hands. As she turned, she caught sight of a note propped on the table.

Katie, I found Chantal hiding under the sofa. I would have told you, but you made me promise to stay inside, Sorry for your trouble. Thank you again for everything. Gone to bed. Sweet dreams, Wilhemina.

“What is it?” Michael said from just behind her, nearly making her jump.

Katie's heart pounded at his closeness, and her eyes really wanted to look at him, but she kept them trained on the note. “We're in luck. Wilhemina found the cat under the sofa.”

“Figures,” Michael said. “Maybe I can get a barrier bracelet to use for that animal's collar. Come to think of it, it might be a good idea for Wilhemina too.”