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Authors: Rosemarie Naramore

Actions Speak Louder (14 page)

BOOK: Actions Speak Louder
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Marcia covered her face with the pillow.  She had given him advice about carpenter ants.  She had walked around his house, assessing its condition as if she were some sort of expert.  She was so embarrassed!  He must have found her supremely amusing. 

Had he laughed at her? 

Probably

She suddenly remembered being in the restaurant with him, and suggesting that the renovation of his bungalow was too big a project for him to take on. 
Yeah, right
.

She had commiserated with him, almost intimating he was hapless when it came to the use of tools.  She’d sold him a pink hammer, for heaven’s sakes!

She dropped the pillow and glanced around her living room.  She had allowed Ethan to look around this room.  He had seemed impressed with the quality of the workmanship, but she suspected now he hadn’t been sincere.  Why would she think he’d been honest in his assessment of her work, when he hadn’t even been honest with her about who he really was?  She groaned loudly, and then fell onto her side, smacking her head against the arm of the couch.  Suddenly very tired, she decided to take a nap.

“Girls,” she called softly to the Dachshunds, but then she remembered, they weren’t there.  She was all alone. 

 

***

 

Marcia woke to the sound of pounding, or was it knocking?  She rose to a sitting position, yawned, and glanced around the room.  She realized she’d fallen asleep on the couch.  Since she was still slightly disoriented, it took her a moment to remember what had transpired between her and Ethan. 

After the cobwebs cleared, she felt embarrassed all over again.  But then she registered the knocking again.  Rising from the couch, she crossed the room to the front door and opened it.  To her horror, Ethan stood there, a hesitant smile on his face. 

“Can we talk now?” he asked hopefully.

She smoothed a hand through her hair, still feeling groggy.

“Did I wake you?” he asked with a wince. 

“It’s okay.”  She made a play of checking her watch.  “Oh, wow.  It’s late.”  She winced this time.  “I really don’t have time to talk right now.”

He gave her a dubious glance and ran a hand through his hair.  “Look, I just want to explain…”

“Explain what?” she asked innocently. 

“Marcia,” he sighed, giving her an assessing glance.  “I should have told you who I am.”

She returned his glance, feigning ignorance, but couldn’t quite pull it off.  Finally, she gave up trying to play nonchalant.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He sighed.  “I did try.  If you think back, you’ll remember that I kept telling you I had something to talk to you about.  Without fail, we were interrupted every time.”

She considered his words and then gave a dismissive wave.  “Well, you’ve told me now, and…”  She checked her watch.  “I really need to get moving.”

He looked skeptical, sensing he’d hurt her and feeling desperate to make amends.  “Do you think I could take you to dinner tomorrow evening?  I’d really like to talk to you.”

She didn’t immediately answer and the tension stretched between them.  Finally, she shook her head.  “I have plans,” she said without apology.

He searched her face and then nodded.  “Okay.”  He turned and strode off, down the steps, across the lawn, and back to his place.  He had somewhere to be anyway—had personal business to attend to.  Gwen. 

Marcia closed the door behind him.

 

***

 

“Are you nervous?” Thomas asked Ethan.

The two men sat together in Thomas’ family room.  The TV was on, featuring a ball game, but Ethan couldn’t concentrate on the screen. 

“Yeah,” he answered honestly.

“Gwen won’t bite,” Thomas said, and then grimaced.  “Well, at least I hope not.”  For a moment, he considered what Gwen might do when Ethan gave her the news that there relationship was over—with no hope for a reconciliation. 

Well, there was always hope, he realized.  Clearly, Ethan still had strong feelings for her, or he wouldn’t be so upset about the upcoming conversation.  He had never seen his friend wound up so tight.


Have
you come to any decisions about Gwen?” Thomas asked.  “Has your soul searching convinced you that the two of you still have a chance?”

“Huh?” Ethan murmured.  He hadn’t done any soul searching relating to Gwen.  Maybe when she’d first dumped him, but lately, she had been the furthest thing from his mind.  That is, until Thomas had come to him, urging him to speak to her.  He had realized that he needed to end it with Gwen once and for all, in order to give them both closure so each could get on with their lives.

Thomas cocked his head.  “Ethan, are you listening to me?”

“What?”

“What are your plans?”

“Plans?”

Thomas gave him a bewildered glance.  “Somehow I don’t think we’re on the same wave length here.  What are you thinking about right now?  Or, should I say,
who
are you thinking about right now?”

Ethan didn’t respond, but simply stared at the television screen, unseeing.           “Ethan!”

He spun toward his brother-in-law and shook his head.  “
What
?”

“Okay, spill it.  You’re not thinking about Gwen at all, are you?  You’re thinking about somebody else, aren’t you?”

Ethan was about to deny that he was preoccupied about someone other than Gwen, but knew that Thomas would see right through his act.  He sighed loudly.  “Okay, yeah.”

“Your new neighbor?”

He nodded his head.  “I really hurt her today.”

Thomas gave him a bewildered look.  “What?  How?”  He shook his head.  “Do you even know her?”

Ethan returned his bewildered look.  “Yes, I know her.  Not well, but…” 

“How is it you hurt her?” Thomas asked, spreading his hands in a gesture of confusion.

“I didn’t tell her who I am.”

Thomas laughed without humor.  “Okay, I’m confused.  Presumably, you told her your name.”

“Well, yes.  My first name anyway.”

“Okaay?”

“Anyway, earlier today, she found out who I am.”

“Look, I’m really confused here.  What exactly is the problem?”

Ethan sighed.  “When I met her, I didn’t tell her my last name.”

Thomas shook his head.  “When did you meet her?” he inquired.

“I met her the day I moved into the bungalow.  She was trailing behind an ant and…”    


What
?” Thomas said, incredulous.  “Why?”

“I have carpenter ants.”  He gave a humorless laugh.  “I mean, the house has ants.  Anyway, apparently, the neighborhood is infested—probably thanks to the mother lode at my place—but anyway, she was trailing behind an ant, trying to find the nest.”

“Okaaay.”

“Well, I didn’t see her at first, but I saw the ant, and I killed it.”

“Go on.”

“We began talking.  She’s fairly knowledgeable about carpenter ants…”

“And you’re a veritable expert,” Thomas piped in, and then his eyes narrowed in understanding.  “I assume you didn’t mention this particular detail, in order to keep her talking…”

Ethan gave him a puzzled glance.  “Why would you ask me that?”

“I know you.”

“Hey, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that remark.”

“Take it as you will.”

Ethan sat silently for a moment, slightly offended, but unsure if he had a right to be.  Arguably, he had been a bit of a playboy in his younger days, but those days were long past.  He’d been faithful to Gwen.  He was an honorable enough man to know that he should never start a new relationship unless an old one was over.

Thomas chuckled, prompting Ethan to glance his way again.  “Look,” he said, “I’ve seen your neighbor.  My vision is twenty-twenty…”

“She’s much more than a pretty face,” Ethan snapped, giving his friend a dirty look.

“Hey, bud, as you well know, I’m a happily married man, but I’m just trying to understand what’s going on here.  You have an appointment in a few short hours with your longtime love interest who…”

“Broke up with me six months ago,” he interjected.

“Yeah, but who still believes you two can work things out.”  He made a face.  “I don’t think it’s even occurred to her that there could be a different outcome.  And you know Gwen—she usually gets what she wants.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Ethan acknowledged with a weary sigh, but roused himself.  “But she broke up with me!” he charged.

“Yes, but she believed it was simply a hiatus—an opportunity for you to shape up and get back on track.”

“I don’t even know what I did wrong,” Ethan said. 

Thomas sighed.  “Gwen told Holly you became a … homebody.”

Ethan gave him a surprised glance, but had to concede he had grown weary of the social scene Gwen so enjoyed.  She craved attention, whereas, he had rejected the spotlight—or had at least tried.  “Wait,” he said, remembering a conversation with Gwen just prior to her breaking up with him.  “She didn’t call me a homebody.  She called me … boring!”

“I didn’t want to say it,” Thomas said with a wince.

“We’re just too different,” Ethan mused.  “I guess we want different things.”

He didn’t take any pleasure in the knowledge that he was about to hurt Gwen, but knew in his gut that he was doing what was best for the both of them.  In truth, he’d checked out of the relationship the night she’d broken up with him.  He had not deceived her, or given her false hope that a reconciliation was imminent.  He felt no guilt in that arena. 

He hadn’t dated anyone during the past six months, although he’d read enough times in the society pages that Gwen had been spotted about town with a series of eligible men.  Of course, he well knew that photos could be deceiving.  He couldn’t count the numbers of times he’d been engaged in innocent conversation with a woman, only to have a photo hit the paper with evocative speculations.  Frankly, he was sick and tired of the invasions on his privacy.      

“You don’t love her, do you?”

Ethan’s eyes snapped to his friend’s face.  No, he didn’t love Gwen.  He knew that now.  He’d known her for several years and had never experienced the intensity of feeling that he had for…

He rose and moved to stand beside a large picture window in the family room.  He looked out across the manicured lawn.  Thomas came up beside him. 

“Ethan!  Talk to me.”

He turned to his friend.  “Thomas, do you believe in love at first sight?”

Chapter Twelve

 

Marcia backed down her driveway and pulled to a stop at the end.  She turned her head to check for traffic, and waited for the stream of cars to abate.  She glanced over at Ethan’s and saw him on the roof of his house.  She watched him as he carefully aligned a three-tab shingle and nailed it in with a hammer. 

She wondered why he wasn’t using a nail gun.  And why had he chosen the cheaper composition roofing, when he could have chosen something more aesthetically pleasing?  If the stories in the paper were true, price was no object for Ethan Winslow.

She shook her head, attempting to force away thoughts about her neighbor.  What did she care that he’d opted to forgo using the more efficient nail gun, or that he chose a cheaper roofing material?  It wasn’t any concern of hers.

She hadn’t spoken to him since the Friday before.  It still bothered her that he had kept his identity a secret from her.  Well, maybe ‘secret’ was too strong a word.  Perhaps he hadn’t given any thought to supplying her with his last name.  Perhaps it hadn’t even occurred to him that he hadn’t told her his last name.  She hadn’t actually asked him for his surname, had she? 

But then, when her neighbors had inadvertently brought it to her attention that he owned E.J. Winslow Construction, he had definitely appeared as if he’d been caught in the act of being dishonest.  Why had he mislead her by giving her the impression that he knew little about home repair?  What did he have to gain from concealing his name from her?

The obvious answer loomed large in her mind.  It was exactly as she had thought before.  He found it amusing to hear her give advice on home repair, as if she thought she was some sort of expert.  The thought that he was probably still laughing at her stung sharply enough that she felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment.             

It wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to be laughed at.  She had grown accustomed to criticism, having been married to Jay.  He had routinely put her down, making fun of her desire to learn everything she could about home repair.  When he had heard she intended to open a hardware store, he had actually made a special trip to see her—to tell her in no uncertain terms that she was making a terrible mistake and that she’d only end up looking like a fool.

Weren’t couples supposed to be on the same team?  Wasn’t a husband supposed to support his wife, rather than diminish her?  Of course, their marriage had ended by the time he’d offered that final business advice, but he’d been equally unsupportive during their married years. 

BOOK: Actions Speak Louder
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