Waiting On You
Page 2
Paulie shot a nervous glance back to the bar. Aha! A hint. “You know what?” Paulie said. “Never mind. He’s...he’s out of my league.”
“No, he’s not!” Colleen cried. “Paulie, you’re so nice! You are! Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Besides, Colleen always felt a little guilty where Paulie was concerned.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“It’s true,” Colleen said firmly. Granted, Paulie hadn’t been blessed with great beauty. And her dad was a little odd—Ronnie Petrosinsky, owner of four small restaurants called Chicken King that served fried chicken thirty-eight different ways, all of them very, very bad for you. He was locally famous for his commercials, where he pranced around dressed as a rooster wearing a crown. Poor Paulie was also featured in a fluffy yellow chick suit, wearing a crown—the Chicken Princess. Try getting out from under that title, especially in high school.
“Listen, Paulie. No one is out of your league. Go ahead, tell me.”
Paulina sighed gustily and drained her Genesee (first order of business: get her to drink something more feminine). “It’s Bryce Campbell.”
Oh. Okay, so that might be tough.
Bryce was gorgeous. Jake Gyllenhaal DEFCON 4–gorgeous. He got his share of tail, as Colleen knew all too well. Bryce was a regular. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but sweet. He had a certain charm, and women threw themselves at him all the time.
Lots of women.
“That’s fine,” Colleen said, realizing she hadn’t spoken for a moment. “Not a problem.”
Paulie gave her a despairing look.
“I’m serious. We can work with this. So, tell me more about you and Bryce.”
Paulie’s expression grew dreamy, the severe blush fading. “He volunteers at the animal shelter, you know?” Colleen nodded; Bryce had in fact helped her choose Rufus the Doofus. “And the animals, they all love him. I go in a lot. I, um...I’ve adopted two dogs and four cats in the past year.”
Colleen smiled. “That’s a lot. But go on.”
“And the other day, I was getting gas, and so was he, and I didn’t even plan that! He just smiled at me and said, ‘Hey, Paulie, how’s it going?’” She sighed at the memory of the magical words. “It was amazing. I mean, that smile, right?”
Yes. Bryce had a beautiful smile. That was true.
“He’s never in a bad mood,” Paulie went on. “Never has a bad thing to say about anyone. Not that I talk to him. Not much, anyway. But sometimes we lift weights at the same time, and...well, I try to talk to him. But my mind goes blank, and I never think of anything good to say. But last week? I had to walk past him, and I said ‘Excuse me,’ and he said, and I quote, ‘No problem.’ Colleen, he smelled so good.”
The woman had it bad.
“And when we were in high school, he never made fun of me.”
Colleen’s heart gave a squeeze. Paulie had a solid, athletic build and held the school record for the number of push-ups, beating even Jeremy Lyon, football god, a record that stood to this day. Her father’s business didn’t help her social status; he’d started out as a chicken farmer, and Paulie hadn’t grown up as comfortably as most of the kids in town, though not as poor as others. And then, when the Chicken King became so successful, well, that was different, too, and it was hard to be different at that age.
Though she was now the chief operating officer for the Chicken King franchises, Colleen had never seen Paulie out of gym clothes, and she always seemed on the fringe of things, as nice and smart as she was.
With a pang, Colleen realized Paulie reminded her of Savannah, her nine-year-old half sister.
“You know what? Let’s forget about it, okay? I’m sorry,” Paulie said now.
“Absolutely not,” Colleen said. “He’d be lucky to have you. I’m serious. You’re great, you have so many nice qualities...it’s not gonna be that hard, Paulie. What have your other relationships been like?”
“Um...I...I’ve never had another relationship.”
“That’s fine. So, no experience with men?”
“I’m a virgin,” she said.
“No worries. Nothing wrong with saving yourself for true love.” Colleen herself had, after all. Not that hers was an exemplary story.
“It’s more like no one’s ever asked me.”
Oh! Poor lamb! “Not a problem.”
“He’d probably rather go out with you,” Paulie said.
“Oh, please,” Colleen said with a flinch. “Bryce? No. We’re not... He’s a sweetheart, but not my type. But you guys...you’d be great together.”
Paulie’s face lit up. “Really? You think so? Honest? I’ll do whatever you say. You think I have a shot?”
“Absolutely.”
Connor was back. “Dad called. Wants you to babysit. Apparently, Gail needs a break.”
Ah. Gail Chianese O’Rourke, their stepmother, four years their senior, not so lovingly known as Gail-the-Tail-Chianese-Rhymes-with-Easy-Hyphen-O’Rourke.
“A break from what?” Colleen asked. “From spa appointments? From shopping? A break from having breaks?”
“I don’t know. Ask him to call you on your cell next time. Hey, Paulie, anything else for you?”
“Uh, I’m good, thanks,” she said, shifting to take a ten from her pocket.
“On the house,” Connor and Colleen said in unison.
“Thanks.” She stood, tripped a little over the chair; Con grabbed her arm and Paulie flushed again. “Well. Thanks, Coll. You rock.” With that, she headed out into the beautiful spring night.
“I’m fixing her up,” Colleen said.
“Oh, God,” Connor muttered.
“What? You have something against true love?”
“Do you have to ask?”
The bar was emptying; the sidewalks, few that there were, tended to roll up early in Manningsport. Connor sat down with her. The only folks left were on the volunteer fire department, who felt that O’Rourke’s was their home away from home.
“Con, you think Mom and Dad screwed us up forever? I mean, neither one of us has a significant other.”
Connor shrugged. He hated talking about their parents.
“You should go out with someone. Jessica Dunn, maybe. Or Julianne from the library. Or I could fix you up.”
“I’d rather hang myself, but thanks.”
“If you do, can I have your car?” She gave him a look. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He grimaced, but hey, the twin telepathy was alive and well. “Don’t have kittens, okay? But actually, I’m seeing someone.”
“What? Since when? Who?”
“No kittens, Colleen.”
“Well, you’re my twin, my family, my coworker! We share a house!”
“Another life mistake.”
“Connor,” she said more calmly, “how are you seeing someone and I don’t know about it? Who is she? How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because of this. I didn’t want you to go crazy and give me advice or start naming babies.”
“When have I ever done that?”
“An hour ago. You told Faith to name her baby after you.”
“Well, so did you.”
Her brother crossed his arms. “It’s not serious. Not yet.”
“I can’t believe you kept this from me. God, those three minutes you have on me ruined you. I should’ve been born first, and I would’ve been, if you hadn’t shoved me out of the way.”
“Okay, we’re done here. You wanna kick out the fire department, or shall I?”
“Get out, people!” Colleen yelled, and the various and sundry members of Manningsport’s bravest started reaching for their wallets.
Hello. Bryce Campbell was there, too. He must’ve come in when she was with the girls. He was watching the fire department with an almost wistful look on his face. Boys. They never got over the thrill of their first shiny red truck.
Well, no time like the present.
“Hey, Bryce,” she said, ambling over.
“Hi, Colleen.” He looked at her and smiled, and yes, Paulie had a point. Bryce was cute. That wasn’t news, but still.
“How’s your dad?” Smiling Joe Campbell was one of Colleen’s favorite patrons, though he hadn’t been in much in the past year.
“He’s great!” Bryce flashed another look at the MVFD, who were now filing out the door, laughing.
“You should join the fire department,” she said.
“Yeah. I doubt my mom would approve of that. I might get hurt.”
“You probably wouldn’t, though. Their safety record is stellar, even if they are a bunch of goofballs.” She took his empty glass and wiped the counter in front of him. “So, Bryce, you seeing anyone these days?”
He raised a friendly eyebrow. “You asking?”
“No.”
“Right.” He gave a mock grimace. “Nope, no one special. I wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend, though.”
This was going to be easier than she thought. “Really? What’s your type?”
“Aside from you?” He winked.
“None of that, now. Answer the question.”
“I don’t know. Pretty. Kind of...pretty and nice and hot, you know? Like Faith Holland, except maybe taller and skinnier, and don’t tell Levi I said that, okay?”
“Bryce Campbell. Looks aren’t everything, you know.” And if he had a problem with Faith—who was built like a 1940s pinup girl—she was going to have to tread carefully with Paulie. “How about personality?”
“Really outgoing. Like me, kind of. You know anyone?”
“Hmm. No one leaps to mind.” Actually, four women leaped to mind, but Bryce was a typical man—he didn’t know what he needed; he just knew what he liked. “But I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Thanks, Coll! You’re the best!”
“It’s true. Now get out, we’re closing.”
Half an hour later, Colleen walked to the yellow-and-red Victorian she shared with her brother. A duplex, so it wasn’t quite as dysfunctional as it sounded. Connor had left a little earlier, and the first-floor lights were out. Colleen’s apartment was on the second floor—a staircase in the back led to a small deck and her door.
She wondered if this mystery woman of his had visited the house yet.
“It’s all good,” she murmured to herself as she opened her door. “After all, we have somebody to love, too. Right, Rufus?”
One hundred and sixty pounds of scruffy gray canine agreed. She allowed him to maul her, scratched his rough gray fur, gazed meaningfully into his eyes, and then extricated herself. “Who wants a cookie? Is it us? I want an Oreo, and you, my beautiful countryman, can have a Milk-Bone.”
Some bozo had bought Rufus as a puppy, then, shocker, learned that the breed tended to get a wee bit large. But the idiot’s loss was her gain, because, as Bryce Campbell had suspected, Rufus and Colleen were kindred spirits.
She called Rushing Creek and talked to Joanie, the night nurse in her grandfather’s wing, and ascertained that Gramp was having a good night. Then, with a sigh, she got the snacks, made Rufus balance his cookie on his nose before allowing him to inhale it, then flopped down on the couch with the box of Oreos. Because really, no one had just one Oreo.
Love was in the air. It was all around her, as a matter of fact—Faith and Levi maybe percolating a baby; Honor and Tom getting married; Brandy and Ted now engaged. Paulie and Bryce (complicated on several levels...but maybe a chance for Colleen to do something good).
“No, he’s not!” Colleen cried. “Paulie, you’re so nice! You are! Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Besides, Colleen always felt a little guilty where Paulie was concerned.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“It’s true,” Colleen said firmly. Granted, Paulie hadn’t been blessed with great beauty. And her dad was a little odd—Ronnie Petrosinsky, owner of four small restaurants called Chicken King that served fried chicken thirty-eight different ways, all of them very, very bad for you. He was locally famous for his commercials, where he pranced around dressed as a rooster wearing a crown. Poor Paulie was also featured in a fluffy yellow chick suit, wearing a crown—the Chicken Princess. Try getting out from under that title, especially in high school.
“Listen, Paulie. No one is out of your league. Go ahead, tell me.”
Paulina sighed gustily and drained her Genesee (first order of business: get her to drink something more feminine). “It’s Bryce Campbell.”
Oh. Okay, so that might be tough.
Bryce was gorgeous. Jake Gyllenhaal DEFCON 4–gorgeous. He got his share of tail, as Colleen knew all too well. Bryce was a regular. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but sweet. He had a certain charm, and women threw themselves at him all the time.
Lots of women.
“That’s fine,” Colleen said, realizing she hadn’t spoken for a moment. “Not a problem.”
Paulie gave her a despairing look.
“I’m serious. We can work with this. So, tell me more about you and Bryce.”
Paulie’s expression grew dreamy, the severe blush fading. “He volunteers at the animal shelter, you know?” Colleen nodded; Bryce had in fact helped her choose Rufus the Doofus. “And the animals, they all love him. I go in a lot. I, um...I’ve adopted two dogs and four cats in the past year.”
Colleen smiled. “That’s a lot. But go on.”
“And the other day, I was getting gas, and so was he, and I didn’t even plan that! He just smiled at me and said, ‘Hey, Paulie, how’s it going?’” She sighed at the memory of the magical words. “It was amazing. I mean, that smile, right?”
Yes. Bryce had a beautiful smile. That was true.
“He’s never in a bad mood,” Paulie went on. “Never has a bad thing to say about anyone. Not that I talk to him. Not much, anyway. But sometimes we lift weights at the same time, and...well, I try to talk to him. But my mind goes blank, and I never think of anything good to say. But last week? I had to walk past him, and I said ‘Excuse me,’ and he said, and I quote, ‘No problem.’ Colleen, he smelled so good.”
The woman had it bad.
“And when we were in high school, he never made fun of me.”
Colleen’s heart gave a squeeze. Paulie had a solid, athletic build and held the school record for the number of push-ups, beating even Jeremy Lyon, football god, a record that stood to this day. Her father’s business didn’t help her social status; he’d started out as a chicken farmer, and Paulie hadn’t grown up as comfortably as most of the kids in town, though not as poor as others. And then, when the Chicken King became so successful, well, that was different, too, and it was hard to be different at that age.
Though she was now the chief operating officer for the Chicken King franchises, Colleen had never seen Paulie out of gym clothes, and she always seemed on the fringe of things, as nice and smart as she was.
With a pang, Colleen realized Paulie reminded her of Savannah, her nine-year-old half sister.
“You know what? Let’s forget about it, okay? I’m sorry,” Paulie said now.
“Absolutely not,” Colleen said. “He’d be lucky to have you. I’m serious. You’re great, you have so many nice qualities...it’s not gonna be that hard, Paulie. What have your other relationships been like?”
“Um...I...I’ve never had another relationship.”
“That’s fine. So, no experience with men?”
“I’m a virgin,” she said.
“No worries. Nothing wrong with saving yourself for true love.” Colleen herself had, after all. Not that hers was an exemplary story.
“It’s more like no one’s ever asked me.”
Oh! Poor lamb! “Not a problem.”
“He’d probably rather go out with you,” Paulie said.
“Oh, please,” Colleen said with a flinch. “Bryce? No. We’re not... He’s a sweetheart, but not my type. But you guys...you’d be great together.”
Paulie’s face lit up. “Really? You think so? Honest? I’ll do whatever you say. You think I have a shot?”
“Absolutely.”
Connor was back. “Dad called. Wants you to babysit. Apparently, Gail needs a break.”
Ah. Gail Chianese O’Rourke, their stepmother, four years their senior, not so lovingly known as Gail-the-Tail-Chianese-Rhymes-with-Easy-Hyphen-O’Rourke.
“A break from what?” Colleen asked. “From spa appointments? From shopping? A break from having breaks?”
“I don’t know. Ask him to call you on your cell next time. Hey, Paulie, anything else for you?”
“Uh, I’m good, thanks,” she said, shifting to take a ten from her pocket.
“On the house,” Connor and Colleen said in unison.
“Thanks.” She stood, tripped a little over the chair; Con grabbed her arm and Paulie flushed again. “Well. Thanks, Coll. You rock.” With that, she headed out into the beautiful spring night.
“I’m fixing her up,” Colleen said.
“Oh, God,” Connor muttered.
“What? You have something against true love?”
“Do you have to ask?”
The bar was emptying; the sidewalks, few that there were, tended to roll up early in Manningsport. Connor sat down with her. The only folks left were on the volunteer fire department, who felt that O’Rourke’s was their home away from home.
“Con, you think Mom and Dad screwed us up forever? I mean, neither one of us has a significant other.”
Connor shrugged. He hated talking about their parents.
“You should go out with someone. Jessica Dunn, maybe. Or Julianne from the library. Or I could fix you up.”
“I’d rather hang myself, but thanks.”
“If you do, can I have your car?” She gave him a look. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He grimaced, but hey, the twin telepathy was alive and well. “Don’t have kittens, okay? But actually, I’m seeing someone.”
“What? Since when? Who?”
“No kittens, Colleen.”
“Well, you’re my twin, my family, my coworker! We share a house!”
“Another life mistake.”
“Connor,” she said more calmly, “how are you seeing someone and I don’t know about it? Who is she? How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because of this. I didn’t want you to go crazy and give me advice or start naming babies.”
“When have I ever done that?”
“An hour ago. You told Faith to name her baby after you.”
“Well, so did you.”
Her brother crossed his arms. “It’s not serious. Not yet.”
“I can’t believe you kept this from me. God, those three minutes you have on me ruined you. I should’ve been born first, and I would’ve been, if you hadn’t shoved me out of the way.”
“Okay, we’re done here. You wanna kick out the fire department, or shall I?”
“Get out, people!” Colleen yelled, and the various and sundry members of Manningsport’s bravest started reaching for their wallets.
Hello. Bryce Campbell was there, too. He must’ve come in when she was with the girls. He was watching the fire department with an almost wistful look on his face. Boys. They never got over the thrill of their first shiny red truck.
Well, no time like the present.
“Hey, Bryce,” she said, ambling over.
“Hi, Colleen.” He looked at her and smiled, and yes, Paulie had a point. Bryce was cute. That wasn’t news, but still.
“How’s your dad?” Smiling Joe Campbell was one of Colleen’s favorite patrons, though he hadn’t been in much in the past year.
“He’s great!” Bryce flashed another look at the MVFD, who were now filing out the door, laughing.
“You should join the fire department,” she said.
“Yeah. I doubt my mom would approve of that. I might get hurt.”
“You probably wouldn’t, though. Their safety record is stellar, even if they are a bunch of goofballs.” She took his empty glass and wiped the counter in front of him. “So, Bryce, you seeing anyone these days?”
He raised a friendly eyebrow. “You asking?”
“No.”
“Right.” He gave a mock grimace. “Nope, no one special. I wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend, though.”
This was going to be easier than she thought. “Really? What’s your type?”
“Aside from you?” He winked.
“None of that, now. Answer the question.”
“I don’t know. Pretty. Kind of...pretty and nice and hot, you know? Like Faith Holland, except maybe taller and skinnier, and don’t tell Levi I said that, okay?”
“Bryce Campbell. Looks aren’t everything, you know.” And if he had a problem with Faith—who was built like a 1940s pinup girl—she was going to have to tread carefully with Paulie. “How about personality?”
“Really outgoing. Like me, kind of. You know anyone?”
“Hmm. No one leaps to mind.” Actually, four women leaped to mind, but Bryce was a typical man—he didn’t know what he needed; he just knew what he liked. “But I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Thanks, Coll! You’re the best!”
“It’s true. Now get out, we’re closing.”
Half an hour later, Colleen walked to the yellow-and-red Victorian she shared with her brother. A duplex, so it wasn’t quite as dysfunctional as it sounded. Connor had left a little earlier, and the first-floor lights were out. Colleen’s apartment was on the second floor—a staircase in the back led to a small deck and her door.
She wondered if this mystery woman of his had visited the house yet.
“It’s all good,” she murmured to herself as she opened her door. “After all, we have somebody to love, too. Right, Rufus?”
One hundred and sixty pounds of scruffy gray canine agreed. She allowed him to maul her, scratched his rough gray fur, gazed meaningfully into his eyes, and then extricated herself. “Who wants a cookie? Is it us? I want an Oreo, and you, my beautiful countryman, can have a Milk-Bone.”
Some bozo had bought Rufus as a puppy, then, shocker, learned that the breed tended to get a wee bit large. But the idiot’s loss was her gain, because, as Bryce Campbell had suspected, Rufus and Colleen were kindred spirits.
She called Rushing Creek and talked to Joanie, the night nurse in her grandfather’s wing, and ascertained that Gramp was having a good night. Then, with a sigh, she got the snacks, made Rufus balance his cookie on his nose before allowing him to inhale it, then flopped down on the couch with the box of Oreos. Because really, no one had just one Oreo.
Love was in the air. It was all around her, as a matter of fact—Faith and Levi maybe percolating a baby; Honor and Tom getting married; Brandy and Ted now engaged. Paulie and Bryce (complicated on several levels...but maybe a chance for Colleen to do something good).
