Part 37 (1/2)
Here it comes, she thought. she thought. The smooth good-bye. The smooth good-bye.
”Of course,” she said, bracing herself.
He was casually leaning against the door, acting as though he had all the time in the world to dump her. ”I used to hate pickles when I was a kid. It's an acquired taste,” he explained. ”I love them now.”
Now that, she had to admit, was a unique beginning.
”And I call you pickle.”
She gave him a quizzical frown.
He pulled away from the door. ”Jeez, Kate, put it together.”
”I get it,” she said. ”But you love lots of foods. You love black olives and pretzels and sweet corn and pizza and hot peppers and-”
”No, I don't. Those are all really swell foods. But . . . I only love pickles.”
”This is the strangest good-bye . . .”
”I'm not saying good-bye. I'm saying I love you.”
”You love . . . you what? No, you don't.” She waved the cereal box around as she reacted. ”Don't say . . . you can't . . . ” Cheerios were flying everywhere.
”Every time I ran into you on Nathan's Bay, you interfered with my love life. You were such a pain. When you weren't s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g things up, you were acting like I wasn't there. I was so d.a.m.ned mad at you all the time, but I kept coming back for more. Then it occurred to me that I always made it a point to find out when you were going to be there for the weekend, and I'd show up, too. Yes, I love you. It just took me awhile to figure it out. And when I did, I started calling you ”pickle” just to make you crazy.”
”You knew I didn't like it.”
”So? I didn't much like being in love with you. For a long time there I thought you were ignoring me and it . . . unnerved me.”
She pointed the box at him. ”What do you mean, you thought I was ignoring you?”
”You love me, Kate. It took me awhile to figure that out, too. I think you've loved me a long time. You just hadn't realized it yet.”
She shook her head. ”No.”
”Yes.” He stepped toward her. ”I love you.”
She was afraid to believe it. ”Do you tell all of your girlfriends you love them before you leave them? Now that's just mean.”
”Jill Murdock.”
She backed into the dining room. ”Who?”
”Jill Murdock,” he repeated, coming toward her. ”When she called the house, you told her I hadn't made bail yet.”
”I don't recall-”
”Heather Conroy.” He kept coming; she kept backing away. ”You told her you were my wife, but you and I were keeping it quiet because we were first cousins.”
Kate smiled. She'd forgotten that one. ”Actually, Jordan came up with that.”
”Stephanie Davis.”
She bit her lower lip. ”I don't remember her.”
”I couldn't take her out because I had bubonic plague and was quarantined,” he reminded.
”Those constant phone calls were irritating people.”
”Like who?”
”They irritated your mother.”
He looked absolutely incredulous for a couple of seconds and then burst out laughing. ”My mother?”
She shrugged. ”I suppose they may have irritated me, too,” she admitted.
He was looking a little too arrogantly pleased. She wagged the cereal box at him. Cheerios exploded everywhere. A few landed in the chandelier above the dining room table. Two more landed in her hair. She had never behaved like this before, but then she'd never felt like this before. Dylan trapped her in the corner. The only way out was through him. ”And why were you so irritated, Kate?” Dylan asked.
She was afraid to believe him. He couldn't love her . . . could he? There was only one way to find out: commitment. If there was anything that would make him disappear, it was the truth.
”Because I love you,” she said.
But he didn't vanish. He just smiled. Shaking her head and frowning, she repeated. ”I love you. The door's behind you.”
He planted his hands on either side of her and leaned down. His mouth was just an inch from hers when he whispered, ”Marry me.”
Epilogue.
On a glorious Friday afternoon, Kate-with her sisters, Isabel and Kiera-walked into the First National Bank of Silver Springs and happily ruined three lives.
It was a fine day indeed.
Following her instructions, Anderson had had a long chat with the new bank president, Andy Radcliffe, and had set up the meeting. There was quite a group a.s.sembled in Radcliffe's office. Leah MacKenna's former accountant, the weasel, Tucker Simmons, and his insipid wife, Randy, were waiting for what they believed was the transfer of Kate's company to them. Edward Wallace was also there. He was the loan officer who had added a few extras to the loan papers after Leah had signed them.
Chief Drummond was waiting for the sisters in the lobby and followed them into the office. Isabel and Kiera refused to sit. They stood with the chief by the door.
Kate didn't bother to introduce herself or say h.e.l.lo. She simply handed the president a file. ”Inside you'll find loan papers my mother, Leah MacKenna, signed. You'll note she listed all of her a.s.sets. Now please read the copy of the original that's filed here at the bank.”
”You broke into bank files,” Wallace protested. ”That's illegal.”
”Illegal? Did you hear that, Chief Drummond?” Kate asked.
Radcliffe stopped Wallace from saying anything further. ”I pulled the files for Miss MacKenna.” He turned back to Kate. ”Now, what can I do for you?”
”Do you see what was added?” she asked. ”Whoever changed the doc.u.ment didn't even bother to imitate my mother's handwriting.”