Distracted (14 page)

Spence watched the interplay between the enraged
beauty queen and her companion and noticed that despite her
apparent hostility at the guy, she sat back down. He couldn’t
figure out if she liked him or not. He sighed knowing that women
would always be a mystery to him.

As they moved through the entrance, Billy Peachy
looked up from his station in the hair salon. “Erin,” he called.
“Welcome home. Give me a call and I’ll squeeze you in.”

Spence looked at the nearly empty salon, then at the
effeminate young man teasing the hair of an elderly woman.

“Squeeze you in?” he muttered.

“Thanks Billy. I’ll call you,” Erin promised.

Spence paused at a sign calling for investors.
“Somebody’s got big plans for the place,” he said.

Erin read the sign and admired architect Jack Frey’s
drawing of the new and improved Peachy’s. His mother was a Peachy
and she still operated the fitness center that also offered video
and DVD rentals. “Wow! Eaton will finally get a shopping mall!”

Spence eyed the cacophony of storefronts, each opened
individually and without much regard for the design or location of
its neighbor. One window featured wrestling puppies under the shop
name, “Mazie’s Pet Store.” Around the corner was a chiropractor.
Someone had plunked a jewelry kiosk in the walkway next to the
arcade.

“Is there anything this place doesn’t have?” Spence
asked.

“It’s got a boutique and a gun shop, but it could use
a Gap. Or Peachy’s version of the Gap,” Erin suggested. “Now’s the
time to get in on the action. Want to invest some of those
millions?”

Spence smiled grimly but said nothing.

Mac Peachy, Billy’s grandfather, was stocking the
cereal aisle as they rounded the corner and entered the grocery
store.

“Erin. Nice to see you,” he said. “Good day, sir.
Welcome to Eaton and to Peachy’s.”

Spence nodded to the courtly old gentleman. He noted
the box of bran flakes in Mac’s hand. “Excuse me, do you carry
Captain Crunch?”

“Ah, a sweet tooth. All filling and no fiber but yes,
we carry it. Down aisle seven on the right.”

Erin smiled at Mac and pushed her cart down the
aisle. Spence dropped two boxes of cereal in the basket. Erin
picked up a box of shredded wheat.

“I prefer substance,” she said.

Still moody, the two silently worked their way down
each aisle, dropping items helter skelter into the basket.

“Don’t they sell beer or wine here?” Spence
asked.

“You have to go to a package store for that. Alcohol
is only sold in state stores.”

“That’s ridiculous. What if I want a glass of wine my
meal?”

Erin sighed. “I have wine at the cabin.”

They checked out silently; Erin insisted on paying
for the food. At the SUV, Spence loaded the grocery bags into the
back compartment. Slamming the hatch shut, he moved to the driver’s
side.

“Give me the keys,” he demanded.

“You don’t know where you’re going,” Erin argued.

“I’ll figure it out. There’s only one road.”

Erin stared at his chin then flipped him the keys. He
caught them high in the air. Then, taking her elbow he escorted her
to the passenger side. He opened the door and waited for her to
slide in before closing it quietly.

Erin wanted to shriek. Spence climbed in and as he
was placing the key into the ignition, Erin put her hand on his
arm.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t be angry. No silent treatment. If you have
anything to say, then say it. I said I was sorry. I didn’t see how
it could matter.”

“You’ve been living with me for weeks and you didn’t
think it could matter that you’re married?”

“We’re not ‘living together’ and I’m not
married!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because he doesn’t matter.”

“How could he not?”

“Spence, you’ve been with many beautiful women. I
know; I’ve seen the magazines.” She slid next to him and put her
arms around his neck, pressing her cheek to his. “Do you think
about them when you’re with me?”

His arms tightened around her and he kissed her,
punishing her with his angry mouth. Despite the pain, Erin welcomed
his touch, her lips pliant against his. He abruptly pushed her way,
turned to the steering wheel and started the engine. The truck
tires spun as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards
the Chappell farm.

He was going too fast and he knew it, blowing past
the 55 speed limit sign. Erin squirmed uncomfortably as the red
speedometer needle rose to 70. Just as she started to speak and
caution him to slow down they both heard a “whrrppp” and saw red
flashing lights in their side mirrors.

A frown creased Spence’s face as he moved his foot
from the gas pedal and slowly braked. He put on a turn signal and
looked ahead for a turn-off. With no shoulder on the country road,
he waited for a driveway and then pulled in. The old farmhouse it
served was set a quarter mile off the road so he didn’t think they
would mind.

“Great,” Erin muttered. “This is all we need.”

A few seconds later a tall, dark-haired man, his eyes
shuttered with dark sunglasses and a police-issue Stetson on his
head, was at the driver’s side door of the SUV. Spence rolled down
the window and had his wallet in his lap, searching for his
license.

“Hi Boone! How you doing?” Erin flashed a dazzling
smile at the man.

Spence glanced at Erin then back at the police
officer, and watched her turn on the charm.

“Didn’t I hear that you’re the sheriff now? That’s
awesome. How’s your mom? Your daddy still preaching at the Baptist
church?”

Sheriff Alec Boone nodded and smiled. “Hello Erin.
It’s good to see you again.” He turned back to Spence and said,
“License and registration please.”

Spence handed him his North Carolina license and
looked to Erin for the paperwork. She opened the glove box and
pulled out the contract. “It’s not our car. It’s a lease. Spence
and I just arrived in town and he’s not used to the roads here
yet,” she said, explaining.

“It’s fine,” Spence growled at Erin. To Boone he
said, “It’s okay. I know I was speeding. Just write the ticket and
we’ll be on our way.”

Erin chewed her lip and looked out the passenger
window.

Boone read the license and the car lease info for a
few seconds. He handed them to Spence and tipped his hat back. He
recognized tension and figured the man was clenching his jaw
because of the woman next to him, not concern for a speeding
ticket. He’d been repressing a lot of his own frustration
lately.

“No ticket, just a warning. Keep your eye open for
deer also. They can do a lot of damage, even to a large vehicle
like this.” Boone ducked a little lower and smiled at Erin. “Erin,
have a nice day. Yes, daddy’s still preaching and mama is fine.
I’ll tell her you said hello.”

Spence watched his side mirror as the tall man
sauntered back to his police car. When the door closed and the
flashing lights turned off, he turned towards Erin.

“Is your seatbelt fastened?” he asked. With a nod, he
turned on his blinker and slowly backed out of the driveway and
onto the highway. It was a quiet ride the rest of the way to the
cabin. It was, after all, only one road and he did recall the
way.

Spence helped unload the grocery bags and then headed
out the door. “I’m going for a walk.”

Erin watched as he strode down the path to the shore.
A tear slid down the side of her nose. She sniffed, then turned to
the kitchen cabinets and began putting away the food. She decided
to grill steaks, and pulled a bottle of merlot from the wine rack.
She popped the cork and filled two glasses with the deep red
wine.

With her left hand clutching her wine glass and a bag
of charcoal in the other, she walked outside. Setting her glass on
the picnic table, she ripped the bag open and spilled the contents
into the grill. She squirted lighter fluid on the briquettes and
inhaled as she lit them, cravenly enjoying the dizzy rush from the
fumes. Soon the charcoal glowed red beneath a layer of white ash.
She hoped Spence would smell the steaks and realize his would be
well done. Too well done. Fine, she thought, tipping her third
glass of wine at the clock, let him stay outside, in the woods.
Probably lost. She took another deep gulp. Hope he’s out there all
night. Hope he’s freezing.

She piled a salad of mixed greens, walnuts and
strawberries on the bright blue fiesta ware plates. The table,
heavy with its Formica top and chrome legs, was another “Retro”
treasure. She broke a loaf of French bread in half, and then into
smaller chunks, arranging them in a basket lined with a red-checked
napkin. A generous dollop of butter in a small, avocado-green bowl
completed the scene.

Steaks, salad, bread, wine. All the ingredients were
there except for Spence. Where was he? Erin tipped the bottle of
wine, filling her glass again. Darn, now the bottle’s empty. No
matter; she picked up Spence’s glass and sipped his. Serves him
right. I’ll eat his steak, too.

Erin curled up on the sofa and waited, the pink
vintage radio playing Golden Oldies. Mom, Dad? Where are you? How
did I make such a mess? Erin emptied the wine glass and, leaning
back, closed her eyes.

It was much later when Spence mounted the cabin steps
and quietly pushed open the screen door. A soft light glowed in one
corner of the room. The kitchen table had been set for two, a
romantic dinner it seemed. An empty bottle of wine sat on the
counter, a goblet in the sink.

Erin, asleep on the couch, had curled into a ball
still clutching the other goblet. Her light hair fanned her cheek.
Spence gently took the glass out of her relaxed fingers and knelt
on the floor beside the sofa. He stroked her cheek and whispered
her name.

“Spence?” She roused slowly, groggy still from
drinking too much wine.

“You partying without me?”

“I waited long as I could. I’m sorry.” She snuggled
against his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Don’t leave me,
Spence.”

“I’m not, baby. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you. I mean, I
didn’t want you to find out… I don’t know what I’m saying. Stop
me,” she said, drowsily stroking his cheek.

He bent to her lips, tasting the wine and breathing
in the heady aroma of spirits and her clean, female scent. “Woman,
you make me crazy.”

Erin put her arms around his neck. “Shhh. Kiss
me.”

Dinner forgotten, Spence did as he was told.

* * *

“Okay, its Day Three in Pennsylvania and we really
have to get some work done,” Erin said. She flipped open her laptop
and plugged it into the nearest outlet. Booting up her computer,
she clicked on the word processing icon. She typed a few words then
patiently waited for Spence.

He lolled on the sofa bed, his hair wet from their
late morning swim. They spent the night at the cabin and made love
twice, then again in the lake that morning.

“We’ve only got a bare-bones outline and a few
raggedy-ass chapters. We have to move on. Patricia is going to fire
me if I can’t get you motivated.”

“Erin, I don’t have time to write a book; I’m too
busy slaking my editor’s lust.”

She blushed furiously and tossed a cinnamon bun at
his head. He caught it and took a bite.

“Lord, if you would only work as hard on this book as
you do making excuses.”

“Let’s make a deal: You give me a massage and I’ll
work steady for one hour.” He rolled over, crossed his arms under
his chin and winked at her. His hair, tousled with streaks of brown
and red, shone like gold in the morning sun. His smile, white teeth
against his tanned face, took her breath away. Does he know how
beautiful he is, she wondered. Dazzled, she stood and walked over
to the sofa bed. She stumbled over the covers, kicked off the night
before.

“Ooof,” she gasped as she fell against the arm of the
sofa.

“Easy, easy,” he drawled, stretching out an arm to
help her up. “Don’t injure yourself. I really need this
massage.”

She picked up the vial of lotion they had
experimented with hours earlier and squirted some into her palm.
She rubbed her hands together to warm up the cream. Then,
straddling his hips, she leaned over and began working her fingers
into his thickly muscled upper arms. “I like my men strong.”

“Mm hmm,” he replied.

She put more lotion in her hands and then, impishly,
squirted a zigzag on his back. She kneaded his shoulders and
pressed her thumb into a knot.

“Ow. That hurts!”

“It’s supposed to. It’s a trigger point. I press hard
and it releases. That means the muscle relaxes.”

“Where’d you learn that?”

“I worked one summer at Peachy’s Chiropractic Clinic.
Jimmy Peachy’s a doctor.”

“Chiropractors aren’t doctors.”

“Of course they are.”

“Whatever.”

Spence relaxed under Erin’s care, and soon he was
gently snoring. She tweaked his nose. “Hey, wake up. You promised
to work for an hour.”

He sat up reluctantly, and started unbuttoning her
shirt. “Your turn.”

“I don’t need a massage.”

“Oh yes you do.” He unclasped her bra and pushed it
off her shoulders. As she reached for her straps to pull it back
on, Spence caught her wrists and tucked both of them behind her
back.

“Fine, keep your shirt on,” he said as he pushed the
sleeves down her arms.

“Let go of me you galoot.”

“In a minute,” he said, tweaking her nose.

Erin leaned back, watching him mistrustfully. Her
hands were pinned behind her and his added weight kept them there.
Spence held the tube over her and squeezed. A line of cucumber
lotion flowed onto her skin. She sucked her breath at the cold and
her belly danced. He drew lines and symbols across her breasts,
circling her nipples. Dots and dashes marched up her neck and out
her collar bones.