Considering Kate
Page 30
Then he just stayed there, staring into space.
Are you going to marry her?
Why the devil had Jack put that idea into the air?
Made everything sticky. He wasn't thinking about marriage. Couldn't afford to think about it. He had a kid to consider, and his business was just getting off the ground. He had a rambling, drafty old house that was barely half finished.
It simply wasn't the time to start thinking of adding someone else to the mix by getting married. He'd jumped into that situation once before. He didn't regret it, not a minute of it. But he had to admit the timing had been lousy, the situation difficult for everyone involved. What was the point of heading back in that sort of direction when his life was still so much in flux?
Just asking for trouble, he decided.
Besides, Kate wouldn't be thinking about marriage. Would she? Of course not. She'd barely settled back into town herself. She had her school to think about. She had her freedom. She spoke French, he thought irrelevantly. She'dbeen to France. And England and Russia. She might want to go back. Why wouldn't she want that? And he was anchored in West Virginia with a child. Anyway, he and Connie had been stupid in love. Young and stupid, he thought with a gentle tug of sentiment. He and Kate were grown-ups. Sensible people who enjoyed each other's company. Too sensible to get starry-eyed.
The hand that dropped on his shoulder had him jerking and nearly dropping the electric drill on his foot.
"Jeez, O'Connell, got the willies?"
Hissing out a breath, Brody got to his feet and turned to Jerry Skully. Rod's father had been a childhood pal. Even though he was over thirty Jerry maintained his cheerfully youthful looks and goofy smile. It was spread over his face now. "I didn't hear you."
"No kidding. I called you a couple of times. You were in the zone, man." Jerry put his hands on his hips and strutted around the room. Put a suit and tie guy in a construction area, Brody thought, and they looked like strutters. "Need a job? I got an extra hammer."
"Ha ha." It was an old joke. Jerry was a whiz with math, great in social situations and couldn't unscrew a light bulb without step-by-step written instructions.
"You ever get those shelves up in the laundry room?" Brody asked with his tongue in his cheek.
"They're up. Beth said elves put them in." He cocked his head. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?'' "I don't hire elves. Their union's a killer."
"Right. Too bad, because I'm really grateful to those elves for getting Beth off my back." It was all the acknowledgment and thanks either of them required. "Downstairs is looking real good," Jerry went on. "Carrie's driving Beth and me crazy about starting up with this ballet stuff. I guess it's going to get going next month after all."
"No reason it can't. We'll be up here awhile longer, and there's some outside work yet, but she'll have the main level ready." Brody started to set the next cabinet. "What're you doing hanging out in the middle of the afternoon? Banker's hours?"
"Banker's work a lot harder than you think, pal."
"Soft hands," Brody said, then sniffed. "Is that cologne I'm smelling?"
"Aftershave, you barbarian. Anyway, I had an outside meeting. Got done a little early, so I thought I'd come by to see what you're doing with this old place. My bank's money's getting hammered and nailed in here."
Brody tossed a grin over his shoulder. "That's why the client hired the best." Jerry said something short and rude that symbolized the affection between two men. "So, I hear you and the ballerina are doing some pretty regular dancing."
"Small towns," Brody said. "Big noses."
"She's a looker." Jerry wandered closer, watched Brody finesse the angle of the cabinet. "You ever seen a real ballet?"
"Nope."
"I did. My little sister—you remember Tiffany? She took ballet for a few years when we were kids. Did theNutcracker. My parents dragged me along. It had some moments," Jerry remembered. "Giant mice, sword fights, big-ass Christmas tree. The rest was just people jumping and twirling, if you ask me. Takes all kinds."
"Guess so."
"Anyway, Tiffany just came back home. She's been down in Kentucky the last couple of years. Finally divorced the jerk she married. Going to stay with the folks until she gets her feet back under her."
"Uh-huh." Brody laid his level across the top of the two cabinets, nodded.
"So, I was thinking maybe, since you're back in the dating swing, you could take her out sometime. Cheer her up a little. A movie, maybe dinner."
"Mmm." Brody moved the next cabinet to his mark where it would sit under the breakfast bar.
"That'd be great. She's had a tough time of it, you know? Be nice if she could spend some time with a guy who'd treat her decent."
"Yeah."
"She had a little crush on you when we were kids. So, you'll give her a call in the next couple of days?"
"Sure. What?" Surfacing, Brody glanced back. "Give who a call?"
"Jeez, Brody, Tiff. My sister. You're going to give her a call and ask her out."
"I am?"
"O'Connell, you just said—"
"Wait a minute. Just a minute." Brody set down the drill and tried to catch up. "Look, I don't think I can do that. I'm sort of seeing Kate."
"You're not married to her or living with her or anything. What's the big deal?" He was pretty sure there was one. Being out of the stream for a few years didn't mean he didn't remember how it was supposed to work. Moreover, he didn'twant to ask Tiffany, or anyone else out. But he didn't think Jerry would appreciate him saying that. "The thing is, Jerry, I'm not into the dating scene."
"You're dating the ballerina."
"No, I'm not. That is… We're just—"
Perhaps it was best all around that while he was fumbling for an excuse, he looked away from Jerry. And saw Kate in the doorway.
"Ah. Kate. Hi."
"Hello." Her voice was cool; her eyes hot. "Sorry to interrupt." Recognizing a potentially sticky situation, Jerry flashed his smile and prepared to desert his old friend on the battlefield. "Hey there, Kate. Good to see you again. Gosh, look at the time. I have to run. I'll get back to you on that, Brody. See you later."
Are you going to marry her?
Why the devil had Jack put that idea into the air?
Made everything sticky. He wasn't thinking about marriage. Couldn't afford to think about it. He had a kid to consider, and his business was just getting off the ground. He had a rambling, drafty old house that was barely half finished.
It simply wasn't the time to start thinking of adding someone else to the mix by getting married. He'd jumped into that situation once before. He didn't regret it, not a minute of it. But he had to admit the timing had been lousy, the situation difficult for everyone involved. What was the point of heading back in that sort of direction when his life was still so much in flux?
Just asking for trouble, he decided.
Besides, Kate wouldn't be thinking about marriage. Would she? Of course not. She'd barely settled back into town herself. She had her school to think about. She had her freedom. She spoke French, he thought irrelevantly. She'dbeen to France. And England and Russia. She might want to go back. Why wouldn't she want that? And he was anchored in West Virginia with a child. Anyway, he and Connie had been stupid in love. Young and stupid, he thought with a gentle tug of sentiment. He and Kate were grown-ups. Sensible people who enjoyed each other's company. Too sensible to get starry-eyed.
The hand that dropped on his shoulder had him jerking and nearly dropping the electric drill on his foot.
"Jeez, O'Connell, got the willies?"
Hissing out a breath, Brody got to his feet and turned to Jerry Skully. Rod's father had been a childhood pal. Even though he was over thirty Jerry maintained his cheerfully youthful looks and goofy smile. It was spread over his face now. "I didn't hear you."
"No kidding. I called you a couple of times. You were in the zone, man." Jerry put his hands on his hips and strutted around the room. Put a suit and tie guy in a construction area, Brody thought, and they looked like strutters. "Need a job? I got an extra hammer."
"Ha ha." It was an old joke. Jerry was a whiz with math, great in social situations and couldn't unscrew a light bulb without step-by-step written instructions.
"You ever get those shelves up in the laundry room?" Brody asked with his tongue in his cheek.
"They're up. Beth said elves put them in." He cocked his head. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?'' "I don't hire elves. Their union's a killer."
"Right. Too bad, because I'm really grateful to those elves for getting Beth off my back." It was all the acknowledgment and thanks either of them required. "Downstairs is looking real good," Jerry went on. "Carrie's driving Beth and me crazy about starting up with this ballet stuff. I guess it's going to get going next month after all."
"No reason it can't. We'll be up here awhile longer, and there's some outside work yet, but she'll have the main level ready." Brody started to set the next cabinet. "What're you doing hanging out in the middle of the afternoon? Banker's hours?"
"Banker's work a lot harder than you think, pal."
"Soft hands," Brody said, then sniffed. "Is that cologne I'm smelling?"
"Aftershave, you barbarian. Anyway, I had an outside meeting. Got done a little early, so I thought I'd come by to see what you're doing with this old place. My bank's money's getting hammered and nailed in here."
Brody tossed a grin over his shoulder. "That's why the client hired the best." Jerry said something short and rude that symbolized the affection between two men. "So, I hear you and the ballerina are doing some pretty regular dancing."
"Small towns," Brody said. "Big noses."
"She's a looker." Jerry wandered closer, watched Brody finesse the angle of the cabinet. "You ever seen a real ballet?"
"Nope."
"I did. My little sister—you remember Tiffany? She took ballet for a few years when we were kids. Did theNutcracker. My parents dragged me along. It had some moments," Jerry remembered. "Giant mice, sword fights, big-ass Christmas tree. The rest was just people jumping and twirling, if you ask me. Takes all kinds."
"Guess so."
"Anyway, Tiffany just came back home. She's been down in Kentucky the last couple of years. Finally divorced the jerk she married. Going to stay with the folks until she gets her feet back under her."
"Uh-huh." Brody laid his level across the top of the two cabinets, nodded.
"So, I was thinking maybe, since you're back in the dating swing, you could take her out sometime. Cheer her up a little. A movie, maybe dinner."
"Mmm." Brody moved the next cabinet to his mark where it would sit under the breakfast bar.
"That'd be great. She's had a tough time of it, you know? Be nice if she could spend some time with a guy who'd treat her decent."
"Yeah."
"She had a little crush on you when we were kids. So, you'll give her a call in the next couple of days?"
"Sure. What?" Surfacing, Brody glanced back. "Give who a call?"
"Jeez, Brody, Tiff. My sister. You're going to give her a call and ask her out."
"I am?"
"O'Connell, you just said—"
"Wait a minute. Just a minute." Brody set down the drill and tried to catch up. "Look, I don't think I can do that. I'm sort of seeing Kate."
"You're not married to her or living with her or anything. What's the big deal?" He was pretty sure there was one. Being out of the stream for a few years didn't mean he didn't remember how it was supposed to work. Moreover, he didn'twant to ask Tiffany, or anyone else out. But he didn't think Jerry would appreciate him saying that. "The thing is, Jerry, I'm not into the dating scene."
"You're dating the ballerina."
"No, I'm not. That is… We're just—"
Perhaps it was best all around that while he was fumbling for an excuse, he looked away from Jerry. And saw Kate in the doorway.
"Ah. Kate. Hi."
"Hello." Her voice was cool; her eyes hot. "Sorry to interrupt." Recognizing a potentially sticky situation, Jerry flashed his smile and prepared to desert his old friend on the battlefield. "Hey there, Kate. Good to see you again. Gosh, look at the time. I have to run. I'll get back to you on that, Brody. See you later."
