Part 7 (1/2)
It was true; she missed having a good time that didn't include chatting with her mother's odd friends. She shrugged. It was what it was.
”I've been thinking about this for a while, but I've decided to move back here for the summer.”
”Is your dad worse? Blanche is back now, isn't she? Does he need full time care?”
He shook his head. ”She's back now, but I can't expect her to be making sure he eats and sleeps. I don't think he needs a caregiver; he's just lonely. And sad. But he definitely needs enough supervision that I'm down here every weekend. So I might as well just stay for the summer as soon as cla.s.ses are finished and finals are turned in.”
”What about your house? You can't just leave it empty.” Especially in a college town. There would be summer squatters in the garden shed about two minutes after he left the area.
”I have a friend who needs a place for the summer. I'm going to let her stay there. She can keep an eye on the place and water the gra.s.s when needed.”
”She?” It shouldn't have mattered, but Mrs. Gray's ugly little comments were lodged somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind. A woman suddenly takes up residence in Brooks' house and they'd never even met her? A tall, gorgeous woman appeared in her mind's eye and she looked an awful lot like Lauren Fairfield, with large gray eyes and a perfect smile.
”Yes, Finley, it's a she. You're as bad as my mother was.”
Her face went hot, not from being called his mother but from being outed as a jealous friend. It didn't matter what he did with his house. It was really no concern of hers. He was a grown man and he had grown-up friends.h.i.+ps with other people, many of whom happened to be women. Now one of those grown-up woman friends would be living in Brooks' house, touching his dishes, using his bathroom, maybe even sleeping in his bed. She shouldn't care. But for some reason, she did.
”As I said, I'll be here for the summer.” He looked at his hands, as if unsure what to say next. ”We can run in the mornings, if you want. I won't ask you spend weekends at the reenactments because I know your threshold for grits is too low to measure, but maybe we could take a few trips, get out of town.”
The thought of Brooks being around all summer was like finding out they'd skipped half the year and ended up right at Christmas. She felt a huge smile crease her face and she popped up from her chair, launching herself at him. ”You're probably doing this as an act of mercy to atone for some horrible past sin, but I don't really care!”
Her arms were around his neck and she could feel him laughing into her hair. The warmth of his palms went through her cotton t-s.h.i.+rt and right into her skin, filling her with a glow that was like stepping into the sun. When he was gone, how she missed his warmth, his smell, his laugh!
He pulled back, his blue eyes lit from within by a familiar joy. ”You're just counting all the chili-slaw dogs I'll bring you.”
”Absolutely not! It hardly even crossed my mind.” Although, at this moment it seemed like a pretty fine idea. Her arms were still around his neck. She dropped one hand to his tie, absent-mindedly fiddling with the knot. ”Honestly, I feel like I don't have anyone to talk to when you're gone.”
”Surely not. You've got loads of friends.” His voice was rough.
Her gaze still on his tie, she frowned. ”Not really. I can't think of a single person to call when I'd like to go out to lunch. You have to admit, that's pretty sad.” She bit her bottom lip. ”I'm not saying I've got a short list of people I could call in a time of trouble; I'm saying the list of people I could call for a no-stress social occasion is a complete blank.”
He said nothing for a moment. ”And what about that list of people to call when you're in trouble?”
She met his gaze and smiled. ”Only one right now. Hope you don't mind being my go-to guy for everything.”
Something flashed behind his eyes, an emotion she couldn't quite catch. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Before he could speak, she leaned forward and inhaled, her nose inches from his jaw. ”Hey, is that a new cologne?”
He cleared his throat. ”I... can't remember. Maybe.”
Leaning back, she shot him a look. ”Can't remember? The man who hasn't changed his brand of breakfast cereal in twenty years? The man who's had his hair cut at the same barber shop every six weeks since the age of twelve?”
”Okay, maybe it's something I picked up recently. I thought it smelled good.” He took a deep breath. ”You don't like it?”
She leaned closer, eyes squeezed shut. He smelled like Brooks: a combination of soap, guy, and those hot little spearmint candies he liked to chew. She wasn't quite sure about the cologne. It wasn't him. She was so used the Brooks she knew, the guy who never changed, steady as a rock. Her nose b.u.mped his jaw as she tried to decide, but another sniff left her feeling just as confused. The thought occurred to her that he was trying something new for someone special, maybe even Lauren.
Caroline sat back, dropping her hand from his tie. ”Did you have someone in mind when you bought this?”
He opened his eyes, as if he'd been about to drop off to sleep. ”Why?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. ”Did Manning tell you Lauren will be at the party? I'm sure she'll make a gorgeous Regency woman, with that tall, willowy figure.” An even worse idea occurred to her. ”Or maybe you don't have to go to the party to see her. Maybe you've seen her around Th.o.r.n.y Hollow since we all met at the Werlin's.”
His chest was rising and falling as if he were angry, but he let out a short laugh. ”Haven't seen her.”
”But you'd like to.”
He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. It wasn't something he usually did and Caroline felt a thrill of alarm run down her spine. Just talking about Lauren unnerved him. ”As much as anyone, I suppose.”
”More than me, I'm sure.” She'd tried to like the woman, really. Once she got past Mrs. Reynolds' incessant boasting of Lauren's many accomplishments, she'd thought they could be friends. But Lauren was cool, quiet.
Brooks answered, as if he hadn't really heard her. ”It's true she's coming to Badewood tomorrow to look around. She wants to take some pictures of the ballroom and the greenhouses.” He paused. ”Would you like to come, too?”
Caroline stood up and went to the laptop, fiddling with the screen for a moment. Of course she wanted to go hang out with Brooks. She loved every inch of Badewood, almost as much as she loved her own home. When they were kids they'd run a dirt path through the adjoining pasture between their houses that was visible to this day. But she didn't want to be there while Lauren took her photos, amazing Brooks with her knowledge of antebellum mansions and porticos and Greek revival architecture.
”No, you two have fun. I'd just be in the way.” She clicked through a few screens, trying to find her place in the Regency costumes again.
He let out a sigh. ”Finley, you wouldn't be in the way. You're so at home there, it's almost like your house, too.”
”Oh, I don't think so.” She looked up, laughing. ”My own house is enough for me. Just think how much of a mess I'd make if I tried baking triple layer cakes in your kitchen, too.”
He said nothing for a moment, then stood. ”I'd better get on home for dinner.”
Absalom jumped to his feet in excitement. Caroline had to smile at an eighty pound dog doing the whole body wag. ”You don't want to stay? I think there's lasagna in the fridge. Don't worry, Angie made it.”
His lips tilted up. ”I'm not worried. And I'd stay but my dad's refused to eat anything but boiled chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s for weeks. I'm going to try and tempt him with some simple pasta.”
Weeks? Caroline's heart clenched in her chest. She complained about her mother's hovering but she was eating well enough and seemed healthy, if a little obsessed with keeping track of her only child. Brooks was dealing with parental issues in a whole other realm of seriousness.
”I'll walk you downstairs.” She folded down the page. ”I need to get some iced tea before I melt into a puddle, anyway. What I wouldn't give for AC up here.”
They walked through the narrow hallway and onto the landing, Absalom's nails ticking against the pine plank flooring. The sound of voices drifted up the wide staircase as they neared the first floor.
”Your mother has company.”
Caroline frowned, trying to identify the speaker. ”If it's Mrs. Reynolds, you're on your own.” There was only so much inane chatter she could take, especially when it revolved around Lauren and her brilliance.
He stepped onto the landing. ”Sounds like a man. Expecting anyone?”
She shook her head and wondered if Frank had popped by. It wasn't likely, since he lived in Spartainville and would have called. Or maybe not. He seemed a spontaneous sort of guy. She smoothed down her wrinkled shorts, adjusting the pretty blue polka dot scarf she was using as a belt. The red striped T-s.h.i.+rt had seemed bright and cheerful earlier but now seemed immature, even a little silly. It was too early for the Fourth of July and she looked like she should be twirling a baton in a Main Street parade.
”You look fine,” Brooks said.
She rolled her eyes at him and started down the stairs. ”Right, to you. The problem with men is that I could have lipstick on my teeth, crazy bed head and wearing three shades of green, and you'd think everything was fine.”
”Are you saying I'm un.o.bservant?”
”No, I'm saying your focus is elsewhere.” She'd reached the last step and the man's voice was much clearer. Definitely a male, Southern, and able to entertain her mother. The low laughter echoed from the living room.